“That’s a chest of gold!” the Thief, she said,
With eyes of treasure-lust.
“A moment, pray,” the Wizard said,
A voice of measured trust.
“Perhaps,” he said, in expert tones,
To show he was a Sage:
“We ought to be quite well-aware
Of the challenge of our age.
“Great chests of gold do find we all
To fill our greedy coffers
And oft we find, not gold, but death!
…is all the treasure offers.
“The MIMIC!” then, did cry the Bard
(A very striking fellow:
Purple cape, glowing lute
And not an inch of mellow.)
The Bard then searched his training
And knowledge of monster lore.
“The Mimic appears to be a treasure chest
But is something less…and more.
“It’s voracious. Hungry, too
And we are its protein source
Be careful of this chest;
It may have uncertain force.”
“Oh, relax,” the Paladin said,
“I’ve got news, and it’s a banger
Don’t know if that’s a Mimic;
But I’m a doppelganger.”
“…(anyone want to buy some slightly-used adventurer gear?)”
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