The lake did lay ahead of him
but as well a large stray root.
And unfortunately for the barman
it took a liking to his boot.
He hit the ground with great force
and made a noise like 'oof'.
Thanks to the old tree's root
he'd made a deathly goof.
"I'll cut you a deal," he said
As the others gathered 'round
"Just let me be and you'll have
all the pie that can be found."
But the mob did not like
this man's last request.
They hadn't gathered so
to let live this blimey pest.
So they bopped him on the head
(as rookie mobs shall do)
and they tossed the barkeep's body
in the lake he had run to.
Elated with their own success
and indeed feeling quite jolly,
they made their way back to the bar
and there they saw their folly.
For there again they met the man
but now he was a ghost.
And at their shocked looks he said.
"Don't you know your host?"
"Being dead isn't all that bad,
said the ghost with a gleam in his eye
"And for the rest of your lives
you'll have a single slice of pie."
The mob was mute, not a sound was made
as they sat at their normal table.
"If you kill a man, do it right," they said
And that's the moral of this fable.