The Sword and the Slug
(A Less-Than-Epic Tale)

In a land full of peril and dragons and doom,
A hero once swaggered (with barely a groom),
He carried a sword made of glitter and grit,
And thought he was grander than just a bit.

But lo! From a puddle (or possibly bog),
There squelched a great terror: a gargantuan slug.
It slimed its way forward with menacing squish,
Demanding a duel—and a side of fresh fish.

The hero stood tall and announced with a roar,
“I’ll cut you to jelly, you gelatinous bore!”
The slug blinked just once (for it only had one),
Then slurped up a hedgehog—just for some fun.

They circled and danced in a comical way,
The slug doing oozes, the swordman ballet.
With a slip and a squelch and a slippery slide,
The hero tripped backwards and bruised his poor pride.

The slug gave a shrug (well, as much as it could),
And offered a treaty: “We’re both rather good.
You’re shiny and loud, I’m just gooey and great—
Let’s open a snack shack and call it a date.”

Now deep in the woods near the croak of a frog,
There’s a bistro well-known: The Sword and the Slug.
They serve up fine puddings and dandelion stew—
And they’ll duel you for dessert (but only if you).