Another one from Nabber's point of view. Gotta love him!

Tavalisk

I once met the archbishop of Rorn.
Tavalisk, his name was,
And he looked like an overstuffed pig
That you would lay out on feast-days.

He was eating when I saw him.
I think he would eat everything in sight if he could.
When he swallowed, all his multitudes of chins
Went cascading down over his throat.
(Needless to say, it wasn't a pretty sight.)

If truth be told,
I would rather have been a million miles away,
Perhaps on Larn with Tawl and Jack,
Or even in Bren,
Where the pickings aren't too bad,
And the food is better.

But I had a job to do.
For Tawl, of course.
And I suppose Jack would appreciate it, as well.
(He'd better!)
So I squared my shoulders,
Took a deep breath,
And hit the archbishop with a mallet.

Well, figuratively speaking.
Actually, I just blackmailed him.
Which is to say,
I hit his contingency with a mallet.
(Which I suppose hurt more than any whack to his head would have.)
And I got results!
(Naturally!)
...Tawl had better appreciate this!