Brothers Campfire The Puking Peasant Inn -An Ongoing Tale Chapter 193

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Hello Friends! 

Today I would like to present the coveted Puking Peasant award to Cassa Bassa!

Cassa Bassa can proudly display any of these badges on her website as she sees fit.

If you want to sing at the Puking Peasant, please contact Galvin the Bard in the comments below.

The words to the song and the accompanying music belong to Cassa Bassa. The story is a story and does not necessarily reflect her.

Now the story!

Cassa of Boga was in fine spirits. She had recently received a great sum of money from catching a greased piglet in a contest hosted by Galvin the Bard. She thought it was cute and wanted to keep it. Galvin, a businessman, was not about to let his precious piggie go for free, and agreed to let her keep it if she sang at the Puking Peasant.

She agreed. It was Friday and the Puking Peasant in was full of the rowdiest kind. There were sailors, blacksmiths, lumberjacks, and even an emu farmer. Now, if you know anything about birds, it takes a special kind of individual to manage emus, kind of like a kangaroo corraller.

Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with the story.

What is important to know about the Puking Peasant Inn is that it is known for its Screaming Peaches, an evil drink that destroys more milquetoasts and manlys than any minion ever could. 

Galvin stepped atop the bar and was met with jeers and boos from the crowd.

Galvin, the Bard

“Fellow Pukes! patrons of the Puking Peasant, I have brought today a teetotalling tesse!” 

“Boo! They cried!”

Galvin was persuasive.

” oh, I feel ya, you want a Sheila.”

The crowd cheered “a Sheila!”

Galvin responded,

“No, today, you get classa, from the Great Cassa Bassa!”

There was a pause, and a slender young lady with the blackest hair you ever did see walked from behind a curtain. 

There was a gasp. She was beautiful and poised with an otherworldly look many of them had not seen before. 

Cassa of Boga

She looked every man in the eye confidentiality like a lioness. “Blokes, today I sing a song in honor of all the women you have left at home.”

She sounded like a songbird and her voice filled the room with elegance.

The sun is bright, shines on your butts

Every night you drink to dawn

Puking out on the bench

You look almost like a Gremlin

Puking Peasant Inn isn’t your home

Pack your bag and go out

The sun is bright, shines on your face

Welcome a new day soberly

The sun is bright, shines on your face

Every morning you feel alive

Out in the fields flies dandelion

Your heart is happy to be free

Never waste your time on the grog

Ladies don’t like drunkards

your beautiful bride waits for you

Bless your returning heart forever

The recording

There was silence in the Puke and slight discomfort. Cassa Bassa shouted, ” now get out and go home to your wives you losers!” 

There was no argument from the men and the Puke closed early.

Cassa, the poised lioness, did not take no for an answer

Congratulations, Cassa Bassa! You have earned an amazing di

Author: Benjamin

Benjamin Thiel is a community leader, urban farmer, and author of The Ongoing Tale at Brothers Campfire. He might know a guy...

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