OK, here's another of my pathetic humor fics! To get this you have to have read the ballads 'Threes' 'For Talia' 'Fundamentals' and 'Magic's Price'. This is a sick fic, I warn you.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Mercedes Lackey's stuff.

Skif wobbled on his feet, swaying from side to side. "Sho Taliash," he mumbled. "Hash you gosh any good songs for ush?"

Talia opened one bloodshot eye. "Nah, but Methinksh Dirk 'as a song or two."

Keren nudged an unmoving figure on the floor. "Hey Dirkie," she said. "Talia wansh a song."

After much prodding, Dirk warily got up, clutching the table. He cleared his throat and began. "The lady I cherish in enamored of a fool," he started, and dredged up some more energy, standing firmly on his feet. "A fool who can't tell the north from the south, and tries to stick his dick in her mo-"

Talia pushed him over. "Not thash kinda song, you idjut!"

Kris walked in. "Hey, I got a good song."

Talia squinted at him. "You're supposed to be dead."

Kris shrugged. "Weird things happen when you're drunk."

"And you should know, eh!" Elspeth shouted from the other end of the bar.

Kris, oblivious to it all, climbed on the bar counter and started to sing. "Ground and center; we begin, feel the shape inside your skin, long and hard and masculine!"

Talia pushed him off the bar. "Dipstick! I mean a song that doesn't mock me!"

Tarma and Kethry stood up from two seats away. "Hey, we got one!"

Talia's eyes widened. "But you're supposed to be dead too!"

Kethry shrugged. "I'm a hundred and fifteen."

"And I'm a hundred and fourteen." Tarma added as they both climbed up onto the bar. "Three things never anger," they began, "If ya wanna live to bear a sonny! A wolf with cubs, a man who's horny, and a woman out for MONEY!"

"Amateurs!" cried a voice from the door. Everyone's head turned to see Bard Stefen at the doorway.

Kris stared at him. "But your even deader than I am!"

Stefen swaggered in, unslinging his gittern as he went. "Watch and learn." He strummed a chord. "Then Vanyel turned to Stefen, and he told the bard to ride

To warn the folk of Valdemar- "They call me 'Magic's Pride'".

"But wait! There's time before the enemy's advance-

So right now what I'd like to do is have you in my pants!"

Van came up behind Stef and calmly strangled him. "Pot calling kettle black, oh Brother of the Order of Perpetual Indulgence."

"The Order of Perpetual Indulgence?" Firesong piped up. "I've been the Abbot there for years!"

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