Written for the charity pie event for the Port Hempstead Orphanage, by Jaelle Thornwood.
The Ballad of Finnias McPheeLadies and gentlemen, sit back and relax
Enjoy all this pie and your sweet pastry snacks
But lend me your ears for a moment or three
And I'll tell you the tale of Finnias McPhee
My tale is of Finnias William McPhee
And a nicer young man one might never see
He had but one weakness, all would agree
And this is his tale as it was told to me.
You see, lads and lasses, an addict was Finn
No bones about it, one thing did him in
All sweets he'd resist, couldn't tempt him one bit,
Save for one treat, and even he would admit
That Finnias McPhee was addicted to pie
There wasn't a flavor that ol' Finn wouldn't try
He'd eat them by dozens, 'till at last he'd cry
“If I eat one more bite I think I might die!”
Yes, pie was his weakness, the chink in his shield
There wasn't a pastry to which he'd not yield
He'd hem and he'd haw and say “No I can't”
But he'd cave in the end, and then we'd all chant:
“Finnias McPhee, you're addicted to pie!
There isn't a flavor or type you won't try!
You may protest all you like, Finn, but it isn't a lie--
To all manner of pastry you'll always say 'Aye!' ”
A right connoisseur was my friend McPhee
A more knowledgeable piester there will never be
Peach, cherry, blackberry—he knew them all
And there wasn't a pastry that couldn't enthrall
Berry pies, sugar pies, flaky and sweet
Savory sausage pies stuffed full of meat
Bubbling desserts set to cool on the sill,
He'd ravish them all until he'd had his fill
And it got him in trouble, gods know that it did
He'd go after them even if outright forbid
And when the poor baker went to serve her dessert
Her face would turn scarlet 'till at him she'd blurt
“Finnias McPhee, I'm gonna kick you sky high!
I bet you think you're so cunning and sly
Sneaking into my kitchen and stealing my pie ...
That's it, you're cut off! Kiss my pastries goodbye!”
Poor Finn he'd be sorry and full of regret,
But no matter how bashful—or how dire the threat!--
The next time his nose caught a tempting aroma
He'd eat himself into a pie-induced coma!
And so it went on, Finn and his pies
And when Finn was in town every chef had his spies
They had to, you see, for when Finn caught a whiff
Of sweet golden pastry, it'd be gone in a jiff.
Say what you will, but no one will deny
Except for the pastries, Finn was a great guy
But sometimes I worried he just couldn't stop
And there might come a time when old Finn would just pop
Sure enough, there came a fateful spring day
When I found old McPhee at a pastry buffet
How many pies? I don't think they'd kept score
But he'd had at least twelve and was reaching for more!
“Finnias stop!” was my heartfelt war cry
“Put down the fork! Step away from the pie!”
But Finn couldn't stop, didn't even bat an eye
Just reached for the next as I heard myself sigh
He got through two more, but halfway through the third
The inevitable end at long last occurred:
He took one bite too many and let out a bellow,
And burst at the seams--though died a happy fellow
So you see lads and lasses, you can't overindulge
At the worst you'll explode and the least get a bulge
But in moderation, there's no finer treat
Than a pie, any kind—fruit, berry or meat.
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Maybe someday with a ridiculous hoard of gold there can be a scripted auto-return script, but for now, just leave them there, thanks - especially the real books, which I don't have replacements for. General Khain's journal and the book found in the Great Dungeon are the only ones at present, I think. I would rather just add a copy of them instead, to have an explaining note on them... but I digress!