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Wondered once, little Penguin did:
"In this Azerothian puzzle, where do I fit?"
"Will I be great, will I be tall?"
"Will I spread shields, to help slay them all?"
A day did come when this Penguin did rise,
A wizard named Dave, had entered his mind.
This wizard, you see, was quite great and quite grand,
Clearly he must be sponsored, many died by his hand.
A Gladiator he became, like his mentor had led,
He joined soon a legion, elitism would spread.
The age of the Bag was looming, Lothar was primed,
Through Wrath they did fight, nubs fell as they climbed.
As Deathwing arrived, a great Cataclysm ensued,
As Azeroth was torn, those in the Bag were renewed.
The Great(er) Purge had come and gone,
Leaving (mostly) the ham, in Tol Barad, they slayed on.
But Alas, this group of Champions would slowly be dwindled,
Each day they were dictated left them all feeling swindled.
As they crawled closer to the Greatest of Greatness,
They fell one by one, disappearing seemed contagious.
Off in the distance, a young Zæya was training,
Resurrected for free, her interest in Azeroth was waning.
Across the land, a vicious rogue did beckon,
Looking for lackeys, "Come forth to Ulduar, I will summon!"
This lady rogue did whisper, "Bring me to your raid, fine sir,"
Virral obliged and so it began, the Bag her chauffeur.
On this night in Ventrillo, sure, she did moan,
But as Viscious Virral reminds us, "To each their own."
This story of Baggery does not end so simply,
For into the Firelands this group soon gained entry.
The minions of Ragnaros fell by the weapons of Baggers,
Horde firsts were achieved, appending mad swagger.
But as the fire raged on, the tension grew higher,
Young Zæya caught attention that wouldn't soon retire.
Soon the Bag had split, Zæya in the middle,
None spoke to her, save maybe a Whittle.
To be free of Koorban's reign, they all left the guild,
Leaving no Gladiators for the Bag to rebuild.
Though cast out by these gentlemen, Zæya acted in kind,
Passing to them, Homewrecker, if they'd be so inclined.
As Koorban's reign died, a new era would beget,
The Bag grew again strong, Zæya did no longer fret.
Her solace, however, had come quite prematurely,
For a disturbance in Koorban had been brewing austerely.
A grim night did come, when last Ragnaros was slain,
The Ban had been too quiet, but peace he could not feign.
Committed to setting Zæya and the Bag aflame,
He left Lothar, and let us just say that Koorban, did in fact, "go out with a bang."
Into Dragon Soul the Bag did adventure to kill Deathwing quickly,
Virral, Amidst, Holypenguin, Dwight, Malch, GDR, Tbom, Zæya and Dewmeqt.
They fought to slay Deathwing with a whompum and a splat,
Malch with an ill-timed lust, Dewmeqt yelled, "WAH WOULD YOU DO THAT?!"
And so, Deathwing did fall, Destroyer's End they did earn,
But as always with JBOD, to extinction did the guild turn.
Like Dave, Dwight had chosen to swiftly depart,
Shouldering the blame, poor Zæya took it all to heart.
Distraught and dismayed, Virral and Zæya did fight,
Joey Bag split apart, to Illidan half of them went quietly in the night.
There they grew stronger, Zæya getting closer to Glad,
Distance made them all grow fonder, enough time away had been had.
With decisions to come home lingering upon them,
A prodigiousness was coming none Lothar could condemn.
Finished and Saunter came back from the dead,
Pushing foolish decisions of travelling home to come to a head.
So home Zæya, GDR, Holypenguin and Tbom did travel,
A family decision was made to pass Captain Amidst the gavel.
With our prime family growing stronger than a Hoagie,
Moe's knew we had the ham and would not score a bogey.
We're still the Bag, but now we are sponsored. And the holiest of Penguins is now a gun that shoots pens. Stay small, stay greasy. EEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLL.
In loving memory of Badluck.
Dedicated to Doctor Dave (my husband), Holypenguin, Virral, Dwight, Saunter, Dewme, Finished, Occi, Malch, Tbom, Amidst, Troy, GDR, Burst, Borag, Vinneh P, Keeks and Fun (Get that man a McChicken). Dun-nu-nu-nu-nu, dun-nu-nu-nu-nu. JOHN MADDEN. SNAKES!
I Borag'd myself a Borag until Borag Borag'd all over my Borag. By then Borag was Borag and I felt Borag Borag my Borag. Then I Borag'd so hard you'd have thought Borag had Borag'd.
Edited by Zæyagoneham on 4/2/2012 3:39 PM PDT
85 Orc Death Knight
i laughed, i cried, it moved me, a truly epic story with rhymes on par with one of weezy's best verses
swagknight puttin lothar back on the map
edit post needs more borag less koorban
Edited by Swagknight on 3/31/2012 11:18 PM PDT
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