The Battle of The Haggis
Andy Lear
with a little bit of help from Bunty Cutler
Illustration by Kate Harrison

Och, t’was on the fourth of April, I will nae forget the date.
The piper he was piping in yon haggis on its plate.
McHalbert set to cut its throat as well as he was able,
‘I’ll nae have this!’ yon haggis cried and leeped up off the table.
McHalbert he was in pursuit, yon haggis running free,
‘You’re a canny wee small beasty, but you cannae run from me.’
But yon haggis had a trick to play, and up the beastie leaps,
fending off McHalbert with his tatties and his neeps.
McHalbert drew yon claymore, och to run yon haggis through,
But haggis reet was bricht and fleet and off he ran, the noo.
‘Ye cowering timorous beastie!’, cried McHalbert to the foe, 
But the haggis knew a thing or two McHalbert didn’t know.
‘I’ll have ye ken a thousand men have died before me neeps,’
yon haggis cried, ‘So have at ye!’, and up yon kilt he leaps.
McHalbert dropped yon claymore, and he drew his dirk, the noo,
But stabbed his own wee sporran, which he soon had cause to rue.
‘Och ouch, me heed!’, yon sporran said and made a murderous lunge,
Attacking bold McHalbert, and it bit him in the scrunge.
McHalbert gave a mighty roar and killed yon sporran deed,
But yon haggis he was up and off, and oot the door he fleed.
Yon haggis he was up and off, and oot the door he fleed
All about Auld Reekie, and up the Royal Mile,
Man and dinner fought t’gither, cussing all the while.
And when they reached yon castle, they were forced to turn aboot
And fight their way back doon the glen, till both were quite shagged oot!
For many an hour the battle raged, och many an hour and more,
The battlefield was full of neeps and tatties, blood and gore.
Yon haggis he was inside-oot, McHalbert was a mess,
But still the battle raged, till they were halfway to Loch Ness.
The haggis gained the upper hand: and bit McHalbert’s wrist off.
His trusty dirk fell to the floor, and he was mighty pissed off.
The haggis ate him bit by bit: his arm, his ear, his thigh;
and sealed his fate upon that plate and left but one Och eye!
The haggis was sore wounded noo, a wretched, sorry mess;
He was really feeling offal as he sank into Loch Ness.
But ’twas a famous triumph for the noble haggis clan,
And as one legend ended, then another one began.