Write whatever comes to mind
One creates but can’t control the fire
Hate me more than the humour from Borderlands
Shut my trap had enough of Claptrap, next warning handback
Glove a mouthshutter, slap a man in public after a slanderous utterance
Asking for duels down the pub, cloaked and wearing jewels
No submissions, knockouts only
Pistols at dawn if he’s really scolded
Leave him with steaming holes
Like he ate the whole Hot Ones roster
Father Acosta how demons accost me
When I’m alone, wroth to them, Crom
Send me crops, corn kings in bogs
I glide over them in a log toboggan
Mishaps mischances lapped the last champion
He was pampered since setting the land speed record
I came at him like a hungry panther escaping a dictator’s pad
Fast as that, he ended up coming last then collapsing
I cut the last record in half, they pin the belt on me after
I’m on the podium flipping birds at opponents, scolding
Anyone who told me I wouldn’t win golden trophies
Barred no holes, nowhere this mad bad retarded bard won’t go
Pogo so close to the edge of the cliffs of Moher I almost go over
Into the throat of the Atlantic, cold as magma is hot, horsethrowing.
Alchemisland 
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