It just doesn't seem right to not give this an ending.
He looked around, saw all the brew stuff
It was still all here, and boy was it enough
From carboys to barrels of grains and hops,
Of kettles and burners and siphons of the shop
All was still here, enough for any brewer
and it was then Stu's doubts never fewer
Stu stood up and announced to them all,
ladies of the evening and "dates" to the ball,
"For your money you'll no longer need to screw,
Relax and rejoice, I'll teach you all how to brew!"
"I've got great ideas, my list of brews not shorter,
from cheap tail pale ale to prostitute porter
We'll brew them all here, the house of ill repute,
for our bringing in cash will never be dispute."
The banker said softly, a grin on his face,
"You know dear boy, this is my kind of place,
We could get right down and pump out some cash,
pump out some beer and maybe later some ass,
We'll make an awful lot of dough,
and our brewmaster will be a fine ho."
The ladies all looked, and smiled ear to ear
forget what they'd done, now they'll make beer
and whenever he wants, give Stu some rear
So that's our story, take it as you will
Sometimes it may have sounded like swill
But our poem was epic, and lasted many a line
and finally, our ending has reached its time.
Remember the moral of Stu and the banker,
Neither will no longer be a lonely spanker
Whenever you're in doubt remember it's here -
a place full of hotties who make damn good beer.
