"Her life's on the ball, this is what you should do:
First, Michael, you cobble a wall-climbing shoe;
and Davy, chain mail that will take some abuse,
and Micky: a sword sure would be of some use."
"Then what should I do?" asked young Peter, annoyed.
"While they are all working, you'll be unemployed.
But when they are finished, you'll go to the tower,
and rescue the princess in your finest hour.
Be careful! Don't drop, crush or damage the locket;
that trinket's my home, and I might kick the bucket."
So Davy sent Peter a suit through the mail,
(or something like that). And then Mike tapped a nail
in the heel of a shoe that can scale any height,
and Mick forged a blade that is fit for a knight.
He then tried it on, and if I may be crass,
that magical sword went and sliced Micky's… hip.
And now, our brave Peter is dressed to amuse:
Chain mail, magic sword, and those brown-and-white shoes.
"Don't think that you've won, Harold, don't laugh with glee;
a hero will come, soon, and then I'll be free."
"Oh? Who will be coming? This news may surprise you:
The army, the clergy and people despise you."
"Why me? Gwen is no longer one of my faves.
The army should save her." "Hey Pete—don't make waves."
"Tra-la and tra-lee, to my grandma's I'm going!"
"I can't let you walk into danger, unknowing.
The wolf ate your grandma—he'll eat you too, soon."
"Yeah, sure. And the cow will jump over the moon."
"Sir Peter of Tork might not live to tomorrow.
Let us all seek some comfort, this hour of sorrow."
"No, Hansel, let's not eat that house-shaped confection;
the sweets aren't good for my milky complexion."
"Steal porridge from bears? Yeah, I'll give it a whirl.
Don't worry 'bout me—I'm a mean little girl."
"I'm roaring to show I'm a moat-guarding dragon!"
"My sword's made with magic, and that's not just braggin'."
"Oh, put that away! I won't kill you, don't fear."
"I really must say, that's refreshing to hear."
"What manner of creature would have, so I'm told,
two eyes and two ears and won't live to grow old?
Now answer my riddle! Be clear, and don't bluff!"
"I really don't know!" "Oh well, that's close enough.
He's all yours, now, Richard! By all means, attack!"
(It's time for commercials, so let's fade to black.)