This story was supposed to contain the words "Mordred", "amber", and "drums".
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"Pass me the *o!? drumsticks" bellowed Mordred across his pint of amber ale. Frothy liquid splashed across the table and onto the floor. Ants by the dozens were carried away by the golden fluid. Screaming as they went alarmed the other nearby ants to rescue them. Charging in with typical insect organization, they too were taken up in the stream.
"Its subversion I tell you!" Mordred's voice carried across the tavern. An ecru headed fellow looked up, craning his neck to see who had spoken. A moment later, he got up and headed for Mordred, a puzzled look on his face. Ecru Head had just reached the table and was about to speak when his left toe slipped on a line of ants carrying away the choicest drumstick and he pulled a suave Jerry Lewis maneuver right flat onto his face at Mordred's feet.
