We devoted 2 hours to singing propaganda about Mother Rohan, and how mad equine disease can be sexually transmitted, and then we devoted another 3 hours to singing propaganda about Dol Amroth and how they are a fine race of part-elves with a capitol city that smells an awful lot like turkey dogs. One hour more than Rohirrim songs because dwelling on the visual image of brawny illiterate and pigtailed men limping about suffering from Mad Cow Disease was almost too much to bear for our aching sides.
Besides, rhyming 'horse-fucker' with 'fuckin' sucker' as much as possible is quite fun.
Heh. Heh. Heh.
With the profits from our busking, we decided to make a splurge on this lone item: