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'I'm bored and going crazy,' 
    said the young man to his friend.
'This small town living sucks my soul 
    and grief will be my end.
So something better happen soon
    to break this irksome trend.'

'What can we do?' The other extolled 
     while continuing their walk.
'This place is like a ghost town 
    and all we do is talk.
And all the girls are now in bed 
    and it's only ten o'clock.'

They thought a bit and were not content 
    to see just how things are.
When one exclaimed, 'I know a place 
    and it isn't very far.
The time has come to take a chance 
    and go to Plunkett's bar.'

They walked right in standing tall 
    to hide their tender years.
People stared but their caps were low 
    as they tried to hide their fear.
Under age with no I.D. 
    so their chances were unclear.

Sam was huge, he tended bar 
    and had a fearsome grin.
He told the boys to come on over
    as their hopes began to spin.
'What can I get you?' he uttered plain, 
    'They meekly answered gin.'

'Gin is fine and beer is good 
    when served in any vessel.
But I've got something you should try 
    and demons you will wrestle.
So sit right down and join the fun 
    and try a Plunkett special.'

Sam poured their drinks, something orange 
    with lemon for a twist.
It tasted dreadful but they were men 
    and needed no assist.
But if Hell had bars they'd be smart
     and put this on their list.

Sam had stories, funny ones 
    about a man who wandered in.
If depression had a brother 
    this man would be his twin.
'I've got troubles,' said the man. 
    'If you knew just where I've been.'

'I've lost my job, my dog has died 
    and my truck's been repossessed.
My daughter has left her college 
    so my Parents aren't impressed.
To top it off... my wife's gone back to dating 
    just adding to my stress.'

'So I'll take this drink, pound it down 
    and put away my fears.
Give up the ghost and put away my shame
     as I've led a life of tears.
I'll end it all and not look back, 
    this will be my last beer.'

When in the door a trucker came 
    who looked the missing link.
And sits beside this sad little man
    who's clearly on the brink.
And quaffs the beer the man had hoped 
    would be his final drink.

The man starts to cry and the Trucker says,
    'It only was a prank.
I didn't mean to make you sad 
    and cause your heart to tank.'
Through his sobs the man degrees, 
    'It was my poison that you drank.'

They start to howl, what a joke, 
    that Sam could turn a tale.
But those Plunkett specials weren't sitting well 
    as they both were turning pale.
But Sam had said, 'These drinks are cheap 
    and we're having quite a sale.

They couldn't believe their luck had turned, 
    they're drinking just like Kings.
The liquor flowed and the band was hot, 
    what would the next drink bring?
And Sam kept pouring, he didn't stop 
    as they ordered chicken wings.

Such a time was had by all 
    and they thanked their lucky star.
Though the drinks were bad and Sam was cool, 
    they still found it quite bizarre.
That two young boys with their first time out 
    had closed down the Plunkett bar.

Last call fell so they walked on home 
    and from what they could deduce.
Their stomachs were not so happy 
    after suffering much abuse.
And to this day they never knew 
    they were drinking pumpkin juice.

                  The End
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