Interlude at Rusty's

On nights when Northmen ride the wind
Those hearty, strong, and able men
Past river wide and mountains high
Where weary sleep and blistered cry
To camps and unsuspecting hosts
On guard to all of woodland ghosts
Tis wise to watch with keenest eye
And listen quick with axe nearby
For Vikings may be laughing friends
But by their wrath might meet your end.

It was on such a night as this
That Vikings strode out of the mist
And to the gas lit hall they tread
Where Rusty's Hard Time crew were hid
Sat two in front that caught the sight
Of warrior boots astride the night
Leaped one from stool and one from chair
Called "I'm Spicoli, Who goes there?"
And Wayah, Jones, and Squirrelfight cheer
"All hail the Vikings! Foes to fear!"

From darkest corner out of view
Spicoli pulled and great horn drew
And grinning at his newfound foes
Crying peals of mighty blows
And from the darkest sleeping hall
The host with glee poured over wall
Now two turned twelve to Viking three
And rested were their enemy
When up arose a belly roar,
Stood Rusty at the Hollow's door.

He sauntered forth with hefty grin
A wily beard and glasses thin
And held on high a camera flash
That lit the meadow, lightning splash
And when the blasting light had waned
Their picture on the roof was pinned
And striding to them without fear
He laughed pulled out six cold beers
Said, "Gruff though they are to the eye
I've heard of these from passers-bye.

"These Vikings though they play at might
Share their cookfires every night
And weary hikers, losing faith
Have laughed with them till bellies ached
And finding joy in climbing rocks
Found happiness that they had lost
So look ye past their warrior stance
And welcome tired friends to dance!
Spicoli! Bring the truck around
And open doors for my James Brown!"

On the truck's high platform then
Climbed Vikings all and Hollow men
And laughed and danced with lifted mood
And cried to heaven "I feel good!"
The truck did lean and bounce around
And past the night there echoed sound
Of hiker paradise they found
When came the Horde to Rusty's ground
Through many days of rest they stayed
And many friends among them made.

Many hikers hear and wonder
Where they might procure such plunder
When townsfolk do not understand
The rowdy longings of their band
They seek the house where Rusty's King
And put on their decoder ring
For Hollow's closed to those outside
The hikers for a place to hide
Instead of looking back and forth
Just go to Springer, then hike north.