Operation: Service Guarantees Citizenship

[Meatslopper]

A Ballad of the Farmers Woes

By Acolyte Vessa Bufon

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There once was a farmer on Belkadan did he roam.

Walk down the errant hillside did Daiju to tell him to atone.

Yet his sin was yet to truly begin.

To say no.

To say no to Sith is the most terrible of crimes.

For they can murder you on a dime.

Lightning cooked, Blades cut through skin.

For they said no.

One begged for his family, another for his home.

But on goes this battles tome.

A call to their allies did not herald a win.

They still said no.

So up the hill their farmers droid did Vulker mime.

Fertiliser and a grenade is the time.

But control it the foes still did and with it gone was our man’s shin.

Laugh as he screamed no, no, no.

So up the hill we marched.

Our thirst for bloodshed not yet parched.

Ahead of me a hostage whose screams I spin.

Many flee knowing the end of this flow.

But those who remain fire upon us.

They really made quite a fuss.

So we fight again in a manner twin.

I let free my hostage with an explosive, go!

“Kaboom!”

The battlefield a jest.

For a HOVERcraft running someone over is chance run thin.

I must confess we tried but all I can do is grin.

They shouldn’t have said no.

"Don't say no," first rule of improv and the Sith akin.

Mass execution ends their ballad much to their chagrin.

Two injured veterans and Sith, by both blaster and a broken shin.

They shouldn't have said no.

For while our injuries are small, those defiant end with every blow.

They really should have just not said no.

But funnier this way, no?