It's seven at night and the house is clean;
Music from Diablo's on the CD
My dice are polished to a nice bright sheen -
We're ready to game, you'd have to agree.

Been working all day on traps and pitfalls,
On treasure, monsters and combat galore -
Dozens of pages filled with scribbled scrawls.
There's heroes and villains and plenty of gore.

And enters Dartog, slayer of Dragon -
Says he; when we know he hid safe and watched.
Since when could a slayer be level one?
His pretensions have long since been scotched.

Next through the door comes our own Rules Lawyer.
It's cool, we love him even with this big fault.
Whenever we are stuck, he's always sure.
The game can go on, and never does halt.

Here's our girl player, we call her Newbie.
She plays half celestials or half dragons.
Anything exotic, or wild, you see,
Keeps her dm confused and on the run.

Her husband's the wizard, a Raistlin sort.
In fact that's the name of their baby son.
Unlike Raistlin, though, he's always a sport -
Still, he's the winner when the game is done.

The halfling thief always rounds out the game,
Ready for traps, mazes and locks to go through.
Each week without fail the cast is the same,
It's my job to see that the adventure is new.

So it's beer and pretzels, pretzels and beer -
That's not just the name of the game we play,
Though the genre itself is without any peer,
It's also the name of the food on the tray.