The Legendarye Queste To Gette Up And Go To The Mysticale Fridge

Gather 'rounde, fellow goodly knightes and faire maerrymakers! For thise saucy troubador has a talle tale to singe to thou, a tale as olde as ye merry olde taverne we now maerrymake withine! It begins as any goode tale doth, with a hearte as noble as the charginge Ram and a ladde so faire and sweete that the treese of the foreste doth bow to him as he walkes past. I speake of goodly Sir Jay of the Rounde Table.

_Tra la la! Bold sir Jay! Tra la la! 'Tis a good day! Fa la la! When Jay doth ride! Fa la la! No evil doth he abide! Tra la la, Fa la!_

Jay doth hungered one fine summer day at noone houre. So with greate and mightye strength, he doth sprange forth from his comfortable chair!

_Tra la, fa la la!_

And he doth journeye past The Bathroome of Despaire!

_Tra, la la! Fa la!_

And into the Faire Court of Jay's Kitchene.

_Fa la la-la!_

There he doth openede The Ivorye Cheste, sealed by darke magick. And lo! Leftover friede fowl from yesterday! A great boon! Rejoice!

_Tra la la! Fa la la tra fa laaaaa!_