Bam! Slam! Whack! Zwack is what you need. But we’ll not call it that. For in my hand is the nectar sipped along the Danube from Baja to Budapest. Yes, my friend I bought it there for such as this occasion. You did your best, that is clear, but the bears and bulls have left their mark. Now once of those who called you friend do turn their heads and smirk, but you I know will forebear as the better soul. The fight is done; the bell has rung now take your medicine. Drink it warm as in this room then go to home you must. For there waits those who love you still. Tomorrow’s fight begins dawn, so take the strength I offer here and pass. The day is done. Night beckons dreams of glories yet to win. So, drink your medicine and rejoice. Let others fume with guilt. Honor serves those who live to fight another day.
