The punkoid staggered in, dripping rain and mud from the festival campsite. Wearily, he laid his mandolin case against the bar, and sighed heavily. "Hey bartender - do you have any Laphroaig?" "It's all gone!?! Ranger1 drank it ALL?" The punkoid collapsed over the bar, exhausted by pusing one car too many in the knee-deep mud of the campsite. "You got Fighting Cock? Make it a large one..." A sip later, and he began to sing... sing... sing... "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh Ah'm a lumberjack and Ah'm okay Ah sleep all night and Ah work all day..."
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