The Pied Piper of Munchenwald

I tell you a tale that took place long ago,
When winters were white and just lousy with snow,
When in Springtime it sprang and in summer it scorched,
And knights were courageous, but never unhorsed.
These things happened back in the ebb of time's tide,
To the town Munchenwald and a piper called Pied.
This town was a pleasant place, cheerful and bright,
Where the sun shone down daily, but seldom at night.
But the fair ville had just about used up its luck,
For one sunny morning, catastrophe struck.

They came by the thousands; they filled every space.
The townsfolk just couldn't escape anyplace.
In alleys, on stairwells, atop of the walls,
From the darkest thieves' den to the King's royal halls.
The town was posessed by that ravenous beast
Which looks on the world as a gigantic feast.
They crowded the market, they thronged in the streets,
Mooing and pooing and stamping their feet.
The people were panicked; frowns creased every brow.
Munchenwald had been invaded by cows.

The townsfolk were frantic, they tried everything,
From bullwhips to cowbells to cattleprod stings.
The cows, though, weren't budging. They'd moved in to stay.
The occupation lasted day after day.
An emergency summit was called by the king,
Of ministers, cabbages, shoes, ships, and things.
The Kings' gorgeous daughter had also come nigh,
With a face like a goddess and eyes like the sky.
(Many a time those two glittering blues
Had dropped some poor lad like a rock in his shoes.)

"See here," said the King, "We've got us a mess.
I've just called together the brightest and best.
These horrible bovines are ruining our food;
No one likes being incessantly mooo'd.
The rythm of life has been halted stone cold.
For one good, honest cowboy, I'd pay all my gold.
This cannot go on! We've got livings to make!
And I'm getting real tired of whole milk and steak."
The Princess spoke up. "But, Dad, what can we do?
The cattle won't leave. Has that sunk in to you?"

Things were geared up for a real hot debate,
But the King's sharp retort formed a second too late.
The council room shook as its doors were flung wide,
And a bloke sauntered in and chirped, "'Sup? My name's Pied.
I'm the Pied Piper; I pipe for a price.
I've got rid of cows, roaches, cougars, and lice.
I've done it before and I'll do it for you.
Let me at 'em, before the whole city falls through."
The King and his counselors weren't quite convinced.
They'd seen no odder chap, not before then or since.

His clothing was well-cut, but splattered and stained
With what looked to be cherry and lemon meringue.
Although his facade was a tad overripe,
He was toting a really well-made set of pipes.
The Princess, by contrast, was awfully pleased;
The Piper's smile made her quite weak in the knees.
The King replied, "Look, I don't know who you are,
But you may be an angel come down from a star.
If you save the city, I'll owe you my life,
But how can you get rid of cows with those pipes?"

"That's the trick," piped the Piper, "That keeps me in bread.
It's a secret, but one that stands me in good stead.
I'll handle your problem, then name you my fee.
The Pied Piper's salvation comes C.O.D."
The King muttered, "Well, then, more power to you.
If you think you can do it, by all means, go to!"
Pied gave him a bow and the Princess a wink,
And was out of the throne room before they could blink.
He strolled from the palace and got right to work,
Though his methods seemed quite out of place in the circs.

The piping commenced, and good Lord, how it stank!
You've never heard music so tearfully rank.
It became clear when he gave his name he'd not lied,
For wherever he piped, he was instantly pied.
Chocolate and cherry, blueberry and peach,
Just any old custard folks had within reach.
A pie fight, a thousand to one, in the square,
Saw half the day's baking get whipped through the air.
Blackberry cobbler, in bright purple stripes,
Ran off of his chin and down into his pipes.

Yet, Pied piped grimly on; he would not be denied.
After all, there's a reason he called himself Pied.
And indeed, music does seem to have its effects,
For Pied pulled off the last thing the King could expect.
As he strolled along, his unharmonious strains
Punded deep into thousands of thick bovine brains.
Slowly but surely, the beef on the hoof
Straggled up from the cellars and down off the roofs.
The Holstein procession, with pipe-major leading,
Through the broad streets of Munchenwald now came stampeding.

It seemed the whole Universe halted to stare;
A few later swore the pies froze in midair.
The man led the cattle on down to the gate
And urged them outside, not a second too late.
He stood by and watched as the last came outside,
Still piping like crazy and thoroughly pied.
Off he went toward the sunset, surrounded by steak;
A man on the pipes with some cows in his wake.
But then, with the sunrise, the Piper returned,
And appeared to the King to collect what he'd earned.

The King was ecstatic. "Oh, well done, my boy!
You've rescued our city! You've brought me such joy!"
The Piper smiled thinly. "You'll have to decide.
I've come back to claim the Princess as my bride."
His Highness the King nearly suffered a stroke.
"Why, you half-pickled piper! You insolent bloke!
How dare you, you little...The Princess indeed!
I'll have you beheaded, you witless hayseed!"
The Piper said blandly, "So be it, old man."
And before the King moved, he was gone once again.

Pied marched off through Munchenwald's populous spots.
When he whipped out his pipes, boy, this time he was hot!
The citizens stared as the Piper piped by.
Not a one had the gumption to reach for a pie.
He passed one shop first, by mistake or design;
"LETTUS, SHAFTAM, and SUNE" read the names on the sign.
At the Piper's approach, the doors burst open wide,
And three bewitched lawyers filed slowly outside.
Piper felt, with some reason, he was doing quite well,
As his ranks of solicitors gradually swelled.

They came from the courtrooms and library stacks,
Out of snakeholes and wormholes and out of the cracks.
The sight halted folks in their varied pursuits:
The Pied Piper and Co., all in Armani suits.
But Pied wasn't finished; he'd one final plan,
And strolled back to the palace where all this began.
She'd been waiting inside for his music to strike her,
And now, out came Princess Would-Be Mrs. Piper.
Once again to the sunset strode Piper and Friends,
And that's where their business with Munchenwald ends.

Munchenwald, left to its own lawless fate,
Realized its mistake, but by then far too late.
With the lawyers all gone and the Piper estranged,
Nobody got sued and nobody got hanged.
The wheels of bureaucracy ground to a stop;
The courts were all useless, economy flopped.
Munchenwald, like Atlantis and Pompeii,
Had come to the end of its glittering day.
From a certain perspective, this story ends well,
But one thing is left for this poet to tell.

News has arrived from some far, distant land,
Death Valley, Brazil, Hollywood or Sudan,
Of a village of people who think life is cool,
Where woodwinds and law are well taught in the school.
And while everyone there has a liking for steak,
No pies, within town walls, may ever be baked.
There's a point to this tale, which I fear you have missed,
So I'll help you a bit. Friend, the moral is this:
Let the kings have their armies with banners unfurled;
It's the artists and lovers who'll conquer the world!