Only A Flesh Wound…?

Only A Flesh Wound...?

…and then his HEAD bounced out of the battlefield, and landed in the lap of the Baroness–AND HE KEPT ON FIGHTING!!


Now, if you laughed your head off at this accidental beheading, pick it back up, put it back on your shoulders–the right way, facing forward–and then fish out a nickel for the NickelAtATime skull-reattaching fund.  Paypal it to!


Dragons 101


Or: What happens when a knight sleeps through Dragonslaying 101

Sir Gregor of Denth was the bravest of knights
And many a tale was told
Of the many opponents he did dispatch;
But perhaps he was too bold.

For Gregor’s teachers did warn him:
“Someday the fight will come.
And on that day you will much regret
Sleeping through Dragons 101.”

“A knight is a knight is a knight;” said he,
“Whether it be morning or noon.
And any Wyrm that thinks to defeat me
Comes flying to his doom.”

A messenger came one midsummer morn
Seeking a knight of renown;
Sir Gregor answered before he knew
It was a dragon that had been found.

“A knight is a knight is a knight” said he,
“No matter the time of day.”
He lowered his visor and lifted his shield
And swiftly rode away.

Gregor attacked on the following dawn,
And it was a terrible fight;
For the one lesson our knave never learned
Is that dragons are blind at night.

“A knight is a knight is a knight,” he gasped,
“No matter the time of day.”
And with those gallant words of wisdom
Did brave Gregor pass away.

So forget mathematics, and governing, and law;
With those, nothing need be done.
The one class none ever should miss
Is Dragons–101.

If you got a laugh out of this Nickel Rhyme, dare to sneak a nickel out of the dragon’s hoard next door, and slip it into the coin slot in the front door of the Nickelatatime HQ building! Or, better yet, kick it our way via Paypal, at!

Are You My Mommy?

Are you my mommy?


The fine young warrior Snorf was born without much common sense.

Fact of the matter, truth be told, he was more than a little dense.

When faced with a foe of fearsome size,

He’d draw his sword and gaze in it’s eyes,


…and say, “Are you my mommy?”


The dreadful dragon perched atop it’s mound of hoarded gold

And glared in fury at one who was both foolish and too bold,

It blasted him with frightful fire

When his words drew the dragon’s ire,


…Snorf asked the dragon, “Are you my mommy?”


The endless horde of trolls and orcs was a deeply terrifying sight

And their battle with the warrior Snorf lasted far into the night,

He slashed and hacked and sliced again

Until the monsters all died or ran,


…and “Are you my mommy?” was his battle cry.


The talking tree was mortified when Snorf asked his famous line,

And swung one long and leafy branch to swat the oaf aside,

Snorf swung, and chopped, and sparked a light,

The bonfire burned for three straight nights.


“You’re firewood.  You’re not my mommy.”


So to the tavern Snorf did go, to drink his worries away,

“He’s ugly! His mama must have been a troll!” a drunk did say,

Our hero Snorf took offense to that,

took out his hammer and squashed him flat,

Finished his drink, and that was that.


“Don’t talk about my mommy,” he said, as he glumly walked away.



If your mommy lets you play with nickels, then take them out of your mouth, and kick them this way, via PayPal, to!