A Strange and Savage Journey Through My Mid-Late 20s

Doot doo doo

This song is called the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast song, and it's about the Regnesfolke, and the Pit we dug and the Pig Roast we had one year, but the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast is not just the name of the e-vent we hosted one year, it’s the name of this song, and that's why I called the song the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast song.

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You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast
You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast
Walk right in, it's down by the Bog
Just follow the smell of the creosoted log
You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast

Doot doo doo

Now it all started six years ago, - six years ago this May, when my friend Spike had this brilliant idea that she was going to spearhead a pig roast at Pennsic. So she got Mr. Steeeein to post this idea to the List ‘cause Mushniks work best in tandem, and went out into the wilds of upstate New York, got herself a pig, got it butchered, got it into a wheeled cooler, and then put the entire cooler into a deep freeze. In later years she did the same thing to a goat, and we all knew better than to ask her how she got these animals, or how she managed to Tetris them into a cooler, or what happened to their heads, because we all knew she'd tell us these answers with more detail than we ever needed. In four part harmony.

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Well Spike got herself and her frozen pig carcass to Pennsic where she deposited the cooler back in the woods behind Mount Mushnik where it would be relatively cool, or as relatively cool as it could be for Pennsic. And Land Grab Week passed with its usual shenanigans, and in one of our collective moments of lucidity we named the headless frozen pig in the cooler Trichinosis Dick because although we were quite certain we could cook him, in the back of our minds we all wondered about our health after eating a pig who had been living in a cooler out there on the back of Mount Mushnik through the August heat for a week before getting buried, marinated, and cooked in the clay of our ancestral mating ground which lord knew had soaked up *what* over the past ten years.

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I mean, I MEAN, Trichinosis initially involves the intestines. Within 1-2 days of contagion, symptoms such as nausea, heartburn, dyspepsia, and diarrhea appear; the severity of these symptoms depends on the extent of the infection and there was a LOT of pig to eat and we were running on Wretched Excess Time anyways. Later on, as the worms encyst in different parts of the human body, other manifestations of the disease may appear, such as headache, fever, chills, cough, eye swelling, joint pain and muscle pain, and itching. Headache? Muscle Pain? Itching?! How were we to tell anything was wrong with us since all of the symptoms mirrored what we normally felt during War Week anyways?

More scotch was needed.

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Well, on comes War Week and Spike's seeing a lot of blood and thawed Dick bits in her cooler so she commences to get a Brute Squad to start digging a pit to roast our beloved Dick in. A Brute Squad of Two, Two Burly Regnesfolke men, in the 200 degree Pennsic heat, in all probability hung over and hurting from a week of Wretched Excess already, swinging large implements of destruction into the unforgiving Pennsylvania clay. They were sweatin' and swingin' and swearin' and all the while Spike's looking in the back cooler and running back and forth from Mount Mushnik sayin' "Deeper, Deeper, Deeper!" and the Two Burly Regnesfolke men are pantin' and shovin' and mumblin' "Deeper, Deeper, Deeper!" and the peanut gallery under the Big Top wasn't helping, laughin' and makin' rude gestures and moanin' "Deeper, Deeper, DEEPER!" until they got clods of clay flung at them cause they had forgotten they were still in range.

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Finally the Pig Pit got dug and the Two Burly Regnesfolke men were patted on the back and we decided it'd be a friendly gesture for us to take Bedwry's Myrkie Micro-Wheelbarrow out to find rocks to line the Pit, this being all part of Spike's plan to butcher, cook, and serve steaming hot Dick. Well, who knew it would be so hard to find rocks at Pennsic!! We sent folks topside, to the Swamp, to the food court, up to Myrkie North, even up to Guam, but instead of rocks, rocks, rocks a coming from everywhere we got a wheelbarrow full of nothing, so with tears in our eyes we headed back down to the Bog.

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Well, Mr. Mike had the brilliant idea to head down to the classic swimming hole and there, off the side of the bank, way off the side of the side of the bank, at the bottom of a 15 foot span of mud and slime and questionable naked anatomy, we found a pile of river rocks and Mr. Mike decided, "Well, one big pile of wet rocks is better than two small piles of nothing" so we loaded up Bedwry's Myrkie Micro-Wheelbarrow and headed back to the Bog and had some jerky chip cookies that couldn't be beat, and we didn't get up for at least an hour when Spike started hauling the cooler up from the back and chucking raw pork at us.

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Now friends, there was only one of two things we could have done at this point. The first and most likely was that we were going to get good and drunk. Good and drunk enough to say "Man, this is really hard cooking this pig and all" and proceed to party and end up putting Dick in the dumpster the next day and feel mighty bad about mucking up Spike's cooler for nothing, but all the same having a groovy time watching the expression on people's faces when they went to the dumpster that morning to chuck their empties only to find a headless pig.

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The second thing we could have done was get good and drunk and put Dick out on the Skull Ball field wrapped in a boat tabard, hide under the Big Top, and yelled at Thor the Thunderbitch until he sent a lightening bolt down and cooked Dick for us, which wasn't very likely, and we didn't expect it, so when Spike got up front and told us to start building a bon fire in the aforementioned 200 degree Pennsic heat, at noon, right when we should have been having snackies and nappies, Mr. Sean said, "Spike, I don't think I feel to well with this heat stroke and all" and Spike said, "Kid, shut up and make with the fire" and handed him a match.

Doot doo doo

After gruntin' and swearin' and drinkin' and about 45 minutes later there was a roaring fire going and a curious phenomenon of SCIENCE happened. We all discovered that the coolest place to be on that particularly broiling Pennsic afternoon was still down at the Classic, but we couldn't leave the bonfire going unchecked and burn down the Bog, which isn't particularly flammable by nature but it *was* a Folke style fire, which meant you could see it from space, so it would be right mature of us to stay put and watch the thing. No, for once the coolest place to be was under the Big Top. Which is where we all congregated once the fire had banked down and we had thrown the semi moist rocks, Dick, et all into the pit and covered it to let baked at 1 billion degrees for four hours. Which is where we all were when we first heard the explosion.

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We all piled out from under the Big Top to the quote Scene of the Boom unquote just in time to see flaming hunks of rock launch over the sheetwall into Preachain. And here comes the Preachainnies, weird looking people, coming under the sheet wall there. Scotch snoggers. Sheep stealers. Sheep Snoggers! Sheep Snoggers coming right into our camp! They were mean and ugly and nasty, carrying flaming hunks of rock in their teeth! And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest sheep snogger of them all was coming right for us and he was mean n' ugly n' nasty n' horrible and he came right over to us and said "Kids, what are you doing?" And we said, "Nothing, just roasting our Dick" and they all moved away from us and gave us the hairy eyeball and all kind of mean, nasty things till we said "And blowing shit up!" And they all came back and shook our hands and we had a great time under the Big Top talking about pork, scotch stealing, sheep snogging, lager and bloodin' and all kinds of groovy things and we realized this was all a typical case of Bog style cooking and ignorance of the science of wet river rocks, and everything was fine until we had to uncover the pig.

Doot doo doo

I don't know if you've ever had the experience of prying 130 pounds of flaming pork out of a 3 foot deep pit of embers, but after fortifying the Brute Squad with liquid courage and hockey gloves and some cusin' and swearin' they got him out and started carving out portions of steaming Dick. We invited the neighbors over and we all had a pork supper that couldn't be beat, went to "sleep" and didn't get up until the next morning when the Day Ball hit the leftover pile of bits and Spike (remember Spike? It's kind of a song about Spike) started to clean out her cooler full of pig's blood when this nice lady walked into camp and said:

"Kids, I-know-this-is-really-weird-and-all-but-it-is-Pennsic-and-you-never-know-cause-I'm-running-an-A&S-class-on-period-dye-techniques-today-and-I've-been-going-camp-to-camp-asking-this-and-I-was-wondering-if-y'all-had-any-blood-I-could-have?" and we said, "Sure, we've got a COOLER full of it" and she gave us the hairy eyeball and backed away, until we told her that it was only pigs blood and she came back and we had great fun ruminating how only at Pennsic could you walk into a camp and make such a request and have someone actually have a cooler full of blood and we laughed and sent her on her way with a couple cups of diluted pig's blood, cleaned up, and buried what was left of Trichinosis Dick under the fire pit for future scholars of the Bog to unearth and marvel at. But that's not what I came to tell you about.

Came to talk about PreReg

Doot doo doo

They got a tent up Topside, it's called Troll, where you walk in and you get committed, submitted, acquitted, permitted, omitted or admitted. I went up to get my medallion and site booklet, and I walked in, I stood in line, got good and drunk the night before, so I looked and felt my best when I drove in that morning. `Cause I wanted to look like the all-SCAdian fighter from the East Realm, man I wanted, I wanted to feel like the all-, I wanted to be the all-SCAdian fighter from the East Realm, and I walked in, got in line, I was hung down, brung down, hung up, and all kinds o' mean nasty ugly things. And I walked in and got in line and they looked at my prereg form, said, "Kid, see that gentle down there at the end of the counter."

And I went up there, I said, "M'Lord, I want to get through Troll. I mean, I wanna, I wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and junk and gak Nancies and have blue barrel plastic in my teeth. I wanna jump out of a perfectly good castle and eat dead burnt kobolds! I mean kill, Kill, KILL, KILL." And I started jumpin up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL," and he started jumpin up and down with me and we was both jumping up and down yelling, "KILL, KILL." And he said "Kid, we only got one question. Did you contact the land agent for the group specified above and did land agent agree to allow you in the camp?"

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And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast Massacre, with full orchestration and five part harmony and stuff like that and ... - and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, have you ever camped with the Bog Camp before?"

Doot doo doo

And I proceeded to tell him the story of the Preachainnies and the sheep snoggin' and the Two, Two Burly Regnesfolke Men and the exploding river rocks and Trichinosis Dick, and he stopped me right there and said, "Kid, I want you to go and talk to the head Troll sitting behind that counter there .... NOW kid!!"

. . . Doot doo doo

And I, I walked over to the, to the counter there, and there is, a group of people where they put you if you did not contact your land agent for your group to have them agree to allow you into their camp, and there was all kinds of mean nasty ugly looking people by the counter there and the head Troll came over with my prereg form in his hand, held it up, and there, there on the other side, in the middle of the other side, away from everything else on the other side, in parentheses, capital letters, quotated, read the following words:

("KID, HAVE YOU CONTACTED THE LAND AGENT FOR THE GROUP SPECIFIED ABOVE AND THE LAND AGENT HAS AGREED TO ALLOW YOU IN CAMP?")

I looked at the head Troll and said, "M'Lord, you got a lot a damn gall to ask me if I've contacted my land agent, I mean, I mean, I mean that just, I'm standing here in line, I mean I'm standing here in the debatable prereg line 'cause you want to know if I'm stupid enough to forget to contact my land agent after last year when we decapitated a farm animal, stored in questionable conditions for a week, almost blew up our neighbors, ate the pig anyways, and then had enough left over blood to help run an A&S class? Would you think I would forget to contact my land agent?!" He looked at me and said, "Kid, we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send your prereg form off to Milpitas."

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And friends, somewhere in Milpitas enshrined in some little folder, is a study in black and white of my prereg form. And the only reason I'm singing you this song now is cause you may know somebody in a similar prereg situation, or you may be in a similar prereg situation, and if you’re in a situation like that there's only one thing you can do and that's walk into the Troll wherever you are, just walk in say "M'Lord, You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast." And walk out. You know, if one person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick and they won't let him into the event. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony, they may think they're both Nancies and they won't let either of them in. And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in singin’ a bar of the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast and walking out. They may think it's an organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day, I said fifty people a day walking into Troll singin’ a bar of Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast and walking out. And friends they may thinks it's a movement.

And that's what it is, the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast Massacre Prereg Movement, and all you got to do to join is sing it the next time it come's around on the guitar.

With feeling. So we'll wait for it to come around on the guitar, here and sing it when it does. Here it comes.

Doot doo doo

You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast
You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast
Walk right in, it's down by the Bog
Just follow the smell of the creosoted log
You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast

Doot doo doo

That was horrible. If you want to end this song and stuff you got to sing loud. I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it for another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or sober. And paper prereg ends May 15, so you better start singing soon.

So we'll wait till it comes around again, and this time with four part harmony and feeling.

We're just waitin' for it to come around is what we're doing.

All right now.

Doot doo doo

You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast (like Trichinosis!)
You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast
Walk right in, it's down by the Bog
Just follow the smell of the creosoted log
You can get anything you want at the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast

Doot doo doo

Da da da da da da da dum

At the Regnesfolke Pit Pig Roast!

Doot doo doo!!