In fields where valor's tales take flight, The Pennsic War unfolds its might, A king adorned in regal guise, Seeks honor 'neath the summer skies. Amidst the clash of fencing steel, A jest arose, surreal yet real— A rubber band turned bullet swift, A challenge in the playful rift. "I am a king," the monarch cried, "No rubber band shall pierce my pride." But fencer bold with wry retort, "Tell it to the marshal's court." And so the king, in royal haste, Proclaimed his grandeur to be graced. Yet rules unswayed, the marshal's voice, Removed him from the war by choice. Thus, stories spun of siege and lance, Of kings and jesters in their dance. For in the realm of jest, 'twas found, The rubber band can claim the crown.