The Ball of scs

By Haggishagger Publishing & Perfidious Alban Publishing

The Guid Wife o' Rhyme's version

There were Celts and Gaels and Picts about, and Anglo-Saxons too,
At the "Ball of s.c.s." International Rendezvous.

Four and twenty posters made sense on s.c.s.
And when the flames were over there were four and twenty less.

A Deja Newser came, but he'd gotten it all wrong,
He brought four and twenty virgins from a very different song.

But also in attendance was the one they call MacP;
He managed single-handed virgins one through twenty-three.

Himself MacRobert, he was there, wi' Talisker on the brain.
He climbed up on the table and declared "I et the wane!"

Ian Morrison was there, ascetic as can be;
A solemn air befitting a supporter of Dundee.

Ian Stewart, he was there, Josiah Jenkins too.
The lasses couldnae figure out which one of them to woo.

Lesley Robertson showed up late, the waiting was intense,
'Cos she's the only one of us who makes a bit of sense.

Also at the Ball that night was Colin Rosenthal;
Discussing politics and matters astronomical.

Bryn Fraser came, and truth be told, he gave us all a turn
When he started to discuss the protein value of the worm.

Duncan and FogBrat were there, I was with them by default,
Foggi said "Now *here's* a Trinity!" and (zap) she turned to salt.

Craig Cockburn was also there, his patience tried and true.
How does he keep from screaming "Read the f***ing F-A-Q !??

Jeff (MacLeod) was also there, a warrior to the core.
Chatting up the lassies and displaying his claymore.

Jim Woodard at the window stood, as somber as an earl.
Plotting dark revenge against his enemy, the squirrel.

A momentary silence fell when chic walked through the door
He's gone but nae forgotten, and the legend still endures.

In the corner wi' the lassies there was Stephen Copinger
His "Resurgam" brought a cry of "gaudeamus igitur!"

And Nigel Carron came, driving several to despair
When they found him wearing flame-retardant underwear.

Even Michael Wade was there, jotting down some notes
Tomorrow's "Scotsman" should contain some charming anecdotes.

When the Ball of s.c.s. was over, and we all had posted bail,
Yet one more newbie queried "Tell me...is it 'gahl' or 'gale'??"

(And theeeyyyyyyyyrrrrree off!!!)

There were Celts and Gaels and Picts about, and Anglo-Saxons too,
At the "Ball of s.c.s." International Rendezvous...

Josiah Jenkins' version

Where's McP, he's got lost, we hivnae found him yet,
Tried to save a bob or two and went by Backhaulnet

Then there's John (quote) Woodard, gets in a proper twirl.
Every time you mention a friendly little squirrel.

Dancing in the corner, with a Heilan coo,
The fellow must be crazy, he is, it's Madra Dubh

Last time here for Sandy, she'll no' get back again,
Standing on the dance floor, talking down a plane.

Here comes Helen Ramsay, long time out of Fife,
But hisnae loast hir accent, you can bet your life.

Watch that guy called Croft though, he's no truthful Gael,
Tries to tell them on the group that he's a big blue whale.

We're missing Mr Lambert, Moses is his name,
He missed the plane to get here, isn't it a shame.

We searched all through the airport, then when he was found,
He said, "Never fraggin' happen, I'm staying on the ground !"

There goes Stevie Howie, what a funny chap,
If it isn't Scottish, then it must be Craaaaap.

Then there's Linda Cummings, Thistle 42,
Watch you don't upset her, the air will turn quite blue.

Who's that arresting person, arriving in the van,
Is it Dirty Harry ? No, it's Cailin Callaghan

There that guy, Bryn Fraser, whatcha make of that ?
He came to the party but didnae bring his rat.

Look, there goes the Fogbrat, a medieval maid,
But if you have upset her, then out will come the blade.

And there's her brother Duncan, acting quite aloof,
Got no one to dance with, 'cos he's a closet poof.

Lesley's in a corner but she's a bit too much,
Always wants to chatter - using Double Dutch.

Watch that guy called Cockburn, he'll no' gie us peace,
He's got the latest copy of a Press Release.

Beth is in a corner, looking pretty bored,
For she's the only one with an s.c.s. Award.

Wade's down in the cellar, looking for the beer,
If he ever finds it, we're certain of good cheer.

Look it's that Jeff Ramsden, couldn't miss the fellow,
All done up in tartan, pity that it's yellow.

See there's Nigel Carron, doon frae Aberdeen,
Takin' lots o' photies, on his website to be seen.

There's Lars, the Nordic sea dog, oozing all his charm,
With the trusty Rusty hanging on his arm.

One that we're all missing, since he went away,
The one we called the Chicster, he is M.I.A.

Then there are some posters, now no longer seen,
Bob K and that chap Wagner, Sawney, Tont and Jean.