Apologies to Robert Service. Anyone want to play?
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A bunch of the folks were whooping it up
In the old Mudcat saloon;
The fella that handles the coffee machine
Was plunking a banjo tune;
In front of the bar in a battle of wits
Sat Catspaw 49,
And listening to him, the Mudcatters all
Hung on every line.

When out of the night, which was muggy and warm,
And into the din and the glare,
There stumbled Big Mick, all sweaty and slick,
In a thong, and hung like a bear.
He looked like a man with a wedgie from hell,
His face scrunched in discomfort profound,
Yet he threw a large wad of cash on the bar,
And he called for drinks all 'round.
There was none could believe the size we perceived,
And of falsehood we looked for a sign;
But we drank his health, and the last to drink
Was Catspaw49.