Hooray!

My Kingdom of Loathing poetry entry won 6th place! I know it doesn't scan that well, but I'm happy with how the intuitions worked out. I present it below for the interested.

There once was a party of Loathing,
where gifts were much cheaper than nothing
They were handed out, with glasses of stout
with just a small prodding and goading

The clubbers and tamers, first chosen's
gift: water proof pants, leder-hose'n,
While good for their pets, made everyone wet
and not one was kept out of dozens.

The past'ers and saucers, with cunning,
had cooked, but distracted by plumbing,
In each spicy pie, was three grams of Lye,
the linguini had outflow quite stunning.

Bandits and Thieves arn't used to giving,
some days arn't for looting or shiving,
Thieves promised not to play as their gift of the day,
While bandits left everyone living.

In some ways the bash was a bust,
the gifts had filled noone with trust,
but soon it was found, to delight and renown,
that the purpose of parties was sussed.

Gifts were only one part of the picture,
each party was a social fixture,
hanging out with each other, like sister and brother,
was a much bigger part of the mixture.