~
[ spoken ]
[Sir John Barry (victor of *2,700* consecutive linguistic jousts):]
Oh do look around you M'lady
And consider...
Right-a-lot is *unique*!
And we have by far and away the most equable netfolk in all Wryland—
Ordained—by decree!

[Nubile Noob:]
Oh come now, John...

[Sir Barry (now 'sing-speaking'):]
It's true!
It's TRUE!
King Chuck has made it clear—
Our 'Right™ stuff' must be Righteous all the year!

[Sir Barry (lustily singing main melody)]
Our site was forged a distant moon ago here
When Chucky G's domain was herein wrought
And Jesters were encouraged to Am'ass here
In Right™-a-lot

Our whether's grate though homophones are reigning
And Mass'ave spoofs keep ticklin' Chuck G's-spot
By fiat, Bush n' Bar' are entertaining
In Right™-a-lot

[ spoken ]
[Nubile Noob:] And I suppose *all* your pacing's perfect too?
[Sir Barry:] Oh, no M'lady! Some meter's much massaged, if you catch my drift!

[Sir John (singing)]
Right™-a-lot!
RIGHT™-a-lot!
The home of polyphonic ham!

And in Right™-a-lot...
RIGHT™-a-lot--
We don't 'are' — we simply 'Am™'!

The freshest farce must fill our every couplet
By legal law each stanza—>chortles spawn
We wits insert our schlocks
In Chuck's submission box
So snappy ever-afterings live on
in
Right-a-lot!

[Nubile Noob (laughing):] Oh, ho!

[sung by Sir Barry:]
Right™-a-lot!
RIGHT™-a-lot!
Of course, we tend to joust n' spar...

But in Right™-a-lot...
RIGHT™-a-lot—
Each wag respects 'bizarre'

[~soft ye now~ (sung half-tempo in Noobile's ear):]
Here pun'ny plays could fill New Deli's phone book
And comments wax supportive—not severe
In short there's simply not
A more wrydyllic spot
Where Spaffy-clever laughter rings
than here
in
RIGHT™-
-A-
LOT!

[Spoken: Nubile Noob]
Oh... Sir John!
I grant thee unbridled poetic license—
Prithee, have thy wry way with me!

~ Oh— My Liege! ~

[a breathless Sir Barry:)]
Twenty-hundred hundred and *one*...

~