Party? Party.

[misterbunny.livejournal.com]

So, the Bunny has gotten things set up for a nice little alcohol fueled party. There's an Ipod attached to a boombox for music, a nice cleared spot for dancing, some hijacked foods for eating, and, of course, the booze.

The Booze is laid out in row after row of wonderfully full bottles. It starts with the cheap stuff, and gets gradually better. But the good stuff, the long aged, good brewed, never tapped stuff, is in the five barrels the Bunny is currently sitting on. He's got a glass of cheap in front of him, just to start things off right.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and assorted creatures! I give you, booze! But, I am not one to give things away for free. And money ain't worth shit no more. So, instead I ask of you, a simple thing. A joke, a toast, a tale or a song, any two of these, and you can drink all night. All four, and we crack open the casks. Lay on!"

Comments

Toasts!

[misterbunny.livejournal.com]

The easiest to accomplish. The Bunny raises his glass as high as he can, "May these ladies distrust man in general, But not us in particular."

Jokes!

[misterbunny.livejournal.com]

The Bunny searches his memory for a moment, trying to find a good one. "Pirate walks into a bar, with a steering wheel sticking out of his pants. The Bartender says 'What's with the wheel?' to which the pirate replies 'It's drivin' me nuts!'"

Songs!

[misterbunny.livejournal.com]

With a deep breath, the Bunny launches into one of his favorites.

"Axes flash, broadswords swing
Shining armors’ piercing ring
Horses run with polished shield
Fight those bastards ‘til they yield

Midnight mare, blood red roan
Fight to keep this land your own
Sound the horn and call the cry
How many of them can we make die?

Follow orders as you’re told
Make their yellow blood run cold
Fight until you die or drop
A force like ours is hard to stop

Close your mind to stress and pain
Fight ‘til you’re no longer sane
Let not one damn cur pass by
How many of them can we make die?

Guard your women and children well
Send these bastards back to Hell
We’ll teach them the ways of war
And they won’t come here anymore

Use your shield and use your head
Fight ‘til everyone is dead
Raise the flag up to the sky
How many of them can we make die?

Dawn has broke, the time has come
Move your feet to the marching drum
We’ll win the war and pay the toll
Fight as one in heart and soul

Midnight mare and blood red roan
Fight to keep this land your own
Sound the horn and call the cry
How many of them can we make die?

Axes flash, broadswords swing
Shining armors’ piercing ring
Horses run with polished shield
Fight those bastards ‘til they yield

Midnight mare and blood red roan
Fight to keep this land your own
Sound the horn and call the cry
How many of them can we make die?
How many of them can we make die?
How many of them can we make die?"

Stories!

[misterbunny.livejournal.com]

"So, this one time, at band camp..." He stops, scratching at his ear with a foot. "Naw, y'know what? I'll just listen to the stories. Don't wanna scar anyone."

Drinking!

[misterbunny.livejournal.com]

"Drink up me hearties, yo-ho!"

Dancing!

[misterbunny.livejournal.com]

And there's room for that as well.