The Dragons were first, for even the Devils
Spend too much time in underground levels,
and even Devils most fireproof
Fear a Dragon’s ire: “POOF”
And if the Devils were next,
each with sharp trident,
and flames abundant,
and voices strident,
They scarce overshadowed the Necromancer
Who was evil and scary and a really good dancer.
But as unlikely as toucans kissing storks:
There were also seventeen misplaced Orcs.
The Kobolds had the basic decency
To avoid everyone (at least, recently.)
The Goblins, each with greenness replete
Had all buggered off to Plato’s Retreat.
The greatest Monsters assembled to fight,
The smaller ones were generally sufficiently bright
To go elsewhere, like popping corks…
Except for exactly seventeen Orcs.
Now, a horde of Orcs can be quite a force
And of nightmares they’re a source
But that’s with, say, ten thousand or so.
Seventeen? They’d likely blow
Away with the first sharp wind;
Or under a Griffon they’ll get pinned
Who let them in? What Dark Lord sent
Such a silly little regiment?
(The seventeen Orcs just wanted to help,
But the other Monsters treated them like kelp.
And when the Forces of Good curbstomped the rest
The Orcs were dutifully impressed.)
The Orcs and all their many kin
Decided that Humans would do themselves in
And if they all did work remote
No-one would find them. So, this note:
The next time you think your customer service
Is intentionally making you mad and nervous
It might not just be Human error;
It might be inhuman terror–
For this was the Dark Lord’s secret plan:
Who can defeat the Light? No-one can.
Except, of course, the Light itself.
So the next time you see some happy Elf,
Just go whisper in that pointed ear:
“I know why all of you fear
To get online. For you’re defeated
Inconvenienced forever…
…and someday deleted.”
