Epic Poem

OK, we had a short story. How about a epic poem?

There once was a man named Stu,
who loved to brew fine beers...

One day he was stuck in ole 'frisco
were he met some very fine ....

steers..

..With steak on his plate

He grinned at the fate
of the belligerent Calgary queers...:rockin:

The Very Deeps did Rot "O Christ
That ever this should be..."

That anyone should chance to meet
as foul a wretch as me

with outreached hand..
..How ya doin ,Man!
excuse me but I gotta pee....

Well, Stu , it seems , was not content

To brew his beer and pay the rent.

He came up with a super plan.
and went to see the banker man.

Alas the banker, while warm to the plan,
held the idea to the hot frying pan
"Why should I back this flimsy endevour
when I have no guarantee on return from you ever?

Surely I would be able to sing all your praises,
And I would like to be the one that works and he raises
the capital you seek, for the plan it is capital,
But I need to to describe you plan, and the process,
to map it all...

Out on the whiteboard, so go back to your lab,
and get me the documents that I may grab
and take to the loan partner without any fear,
and if you get a chance, can you bring me some beer?

So off he ran, set off in a tizzy
To scrounge up a beer both yellow and fizzy.
A materials list and a bus i ness plan
All to take back to the big banker man.

...When out on the lawn
There arose such a clatter...

Oh! don't mind me Sir
I'm just relieving my bladder.

So on Pale Ale
on Lager
on Sweet Stout
on Weissen

Run to the lab
but be sure to be nice and
stop for the reds and go forth for the greens
(now if you do not mind, I'll delete some long scenes)

Alas at the shop I could not find a pen,
Though a buddy stopped by and asked if I can
Tap the big stout I had been bragging about?
I said I was busy;he started to pout...

It's the Homebrewers' cross
That we all have to bear
Our friends all come begging
for a taste of our wares

But we like it, in truth,
Cuz in so many ways...

It makes us feel good
while maintaining the daze.

I'll digress no further,
and get to the point...

but just hang on while
I roll up this joint...

Is this still digressing?
I can no longer tell...
At the thought of fresh Homebrew,
I'm beginning to swell.

So we stand back in amazement
enough to be clear
of that swelling your feeling
will soon pass through your rear.

"Not my rear!" quoth Sasquatch,
"I'm not that kind of beast."
"You'd think maybe a guy'd get
a drink bought, at least."

Fear not my dear Sasquatch,
It won't hurt a bit.
It's been done before,
t'was ether which hit.

Quoth the Sasquatch "Nevermore."

An onlooker caught of by surprise,
by the audacity of you guys...
"'Tis more than I can believe,
or hath my eyes been decieved?"

Quoth the Sasquatch "Nevermore."

And yet I demand a reply, and ask with clear voice
For insight and response in relation to thine choice
And yet thee sit there at my window rapping,
and threaten upon my garden to be crapping
To respond with such a voice as a hairy boar,

Quoth the Sasquatch "Pass some paper, man, I made a helluva pile out here. Nevermore."

I fumed as I picked up the scooper,
upset at that hairy-ass pooper,
I can't believe we've turned to Poe,
is it what we started with? No,
The truth is while I laughed myself sick,
Our poem was supposed to be epic.

Such a distraction the gods have sent,
all of which my attention was spent,
while the beer had flowed down the drain,
only one determined thought entered my brain.
So with turpentine and flint, I set the garden ablaze,
I had work to do, to travel and save my ale from hades.

My pride behind me I asked for his help,
Though compared to its size my voice was a yelp
I explained my plight, my reason for flight
with a disgruntled tone, an irritated moan,

..Wake up Stu
You have much to do.
the Banker will not tolerate tardy.
Wake from your dream ..Sounded Hairy . I mean!
The Bankers expecting a party.

Stu's plan was together, albeit not neat,
He started with the haste of his feet
Time he had so lost, looking for a pen,
odd dreams of talking steins and hairy men
Must make it in time, he had slept through four
and made before the bank closed the door

When out in the lobby , there arose such a clatter-
The banker flew from his office to see what was the matter-
And what , to his beady banker eyes should appear?
Stu ! With some papers and a kegfull of beer !







( Please forgive me )

Come in to my office
let's discuss whats so dear.
I have checked your references
and theres a few details to clear.
Mug was quite clear, you make excellent beer
but Sasquatch refused to reply.
Cheyco I guess, severly digressed
wandered off with that hairy guy.

Stu started to sweat- he knew he was caught
The banker had guessed that the beer was store-bought !
He jumped from his chair , knocking over the keg.
He fell to the floor and started to beg:
" Oh, please, Mr. Banker, if you'll just hear me out !
Cheyco and the hairy guy drank all my stout !"

They really are good guys
Yes , I know one stinks
sits in the corner and never blinks
But they are part of my crew
they help me make brew
You should reconsider..I thinks.

All we need is some cash, we'll find us a spot.
We'll set up the burner and big-assed brew pot.
We'll stir in our grains, our adjuncts and hops.
We'll ferment and keg and bottle our brew
And each week we'll bring a free case to you.
So there is the deal, you give it a think.
Excuse me, I must go throw up in your sink.

Get out of my bank you vomitous wretch
supporting your habit is too much of a stretch!
Go back to your friends and drink to their kind
Or shall I serve you my home-made wine?

Stu stood still- he was in a bind.
Did the Banker just mention his homemade wine?
Surely , a winemaker must understand-
what life must be like for a beer makin' man.
You work and you sweat, you stress and toil.
You carry your creation to the end of the boil.
Most mother F ers, they can't understand
What life is like for the beermakin' man

Pour me a glass of this vintage you speak
I'd like to know what road you seek
When was this born, spring, summer or winter
and how long have you been this closet vintner.
The Banker raised his glass and with a toast
said cleanup that vomit its really gross.

Stu was given a second chance,
and started into a happy dance
It's strange to see one clean vomit as so,
all the while doing a one-man mambo

"It's something that you'll soon see,
My beers are great and soon we'll taste,
and then see who further can pee,
So let's get this brew going with haste!"

So off he ran to his lhbs
only to find, to his great distress
that his brewshop was gone, it was no more
He approached the site slowly, and knocked on the door

"Come on in, Big Fella"
He heard a voice declare.
Charlotte the Harlot was
Displaying her wares.

She'd taken over the old
"Shoppe de Home Brew"
(which was number 22
Acacia Avenue)

The man who sent me, his name was Bruce
He said you may indeed have use
for a man who's learned the ways of yeast,
and on he mumbled about 'The Beast.'
And so it is to you I pose,
I need a chiller, have you some hose?