A/N

The idea for this came from seeing a one-stanza poem in an Irish pub, of which the first stanza of this is loosely based on. Granted, the pub was much more pleasent than Moe's Tavern (actually had females for instance) but it got the creative liquors flowing.

Where Everyone Knows Your Name

There are many reasons for drinking at Moe's,

And one has just entered my head.

It's good to spend your life drinking,

'Cause you can't while you're dead.

...

It's the place where your name's always known,

Like yours, Mister...Smith?

Mister I say because women don't pay,

They always give this pub a miss.

...

The backroom's got runaways of all kinds,

And animals going for sale.

The beer's always good, it's your main course,

Because the food is going stale.

...

There's no drink limit, crash all you want,

Just make sure you can drive back.

Drink up your grog, spill out your spoils,

And I won't give you any flak.