u/Rotary_Zeuhl

A tidy little Corey solo, some of that sweet bell work from JizMak, and of course, some of Dave's most gleefully disgusting, offensive and amazing lyrics:

Lets go Tick-tits!

Well have you seen her tits?
When they are covered in ticks
It's shit like that
That makes monks shag their wicks
Say have you seen her ticks?
Sucking on her tits?
Not even dog-tits are better than this
Unless of course they are covered in ticks
What could be better than ticks on your tits?
Except for Dick-tits, all up in the slit
And also, your Mothers a whore
The ticks got so big they won't fit through the door
Have you seen her tits when they're covered in ticks
Let's all go lick them then pop them with sticks
Tick-tits are growning, they're saggy and grey
And once you fuck tick-tits you'll never go gay

Tick-tits, Tick-tits
Tick-tits, Tick-tits
I love
Tick-tits, Tick-tits
Tick-tits, dick-slit, sick shit
uuuugghhh

Have you seen her tits?

Underneath all of those ticks?

Baggy and saggy and filled up with pus
This is your Mom, she hangs out with us...
Dammit I love me some ticks
So do the wops and the micks
And if you don't you outta...
The Mexicans love a bug Tick-tit pinata
I am addicted to ticks
And I don't wanna sound like a prick
So many ticks you can't see her at all
If it keeps up like this she'll be banned from the mall
Now let's set fire to the ticks!
It's as easy as flicking your Bic!
The tick-titted wonder is bursting with flame
Her tits are on fire-I don't know her name

Tick-tits, Tick-tits
Tick-tits, Tick-tits
I love
Tick-tits, Tick-tits
tick-tits, dick-slit, sick shit
uuuugghhh

I got this job in ebay
They sent me to scrape out her flap
Never guessed id be so impressed
By her tick-tit-dick-slit trap
Just a flopping mass of grayish skin
Oozing ichor from every crease
Did I forget to mention
She's morbidly obese?

Tick-tits
Tick-tits
Tick-tits, oh Tick-tits, pleased clean out your gash
Tick-tits
a rugby team is at the door, we really need the cash
Tick-tits

Tick-tits, Tick-tits
Tick-tits, Tick-tits
I love
Tick-tits, dick-slit, sick shit
uuuugghhh

Her suffering is over now
She found death, I pray
Her body so covered in insects
Haven't seen her face for days
Her mung-encrusted 'ginal hole
Became a swarming insect bowl
Baggy and saggy
And puffy and gross
The talk of the town!
The toast of the coast!

Imagine trying to karaoke that shit! Pretty good challenge lol

This is what did it for me (from Sword of Destiny):

"Go to sleep," (Geralt) yawned, so that his jaw creaked. "Go to sleep, Ciri."

"Tell me a story."

"What?"

"Tell me a story," she snorted. "How am I supposed to sleep without a story? I mean, really!"

"I don't know any damned stories. Go to sleep."

"You're lying. You do. What, no one told you stories when you were little? What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing. I just recalled something."

"Aha! You see. Go on."

"What?"

"Tell me a story."

He laughed again, put his hands under his head and looked up at the stars twinkling beyond the branches above their heads.

"There was once... a cat," he began. "An ordinary, tabby mouser. And one day the cat went off, all by itself, on a long journey to a terrible, dark forest. He walked... And he walked... And he walked..."

"Don't think," Ciri mumbled, cuddling up to him, "that I'll fall asleep before he gets there."

"Keep quiet, rascal. So... he walked and walked until he came across a fox. A red fox."

Braenn sighed and lay down beside the Witcher, on the other side, and also snuggled up a little.

"Very well," Ciri sniffed. "Say what happens next."

"The fox looked at the cat. 'Who are you?' he asked. 'I'm a cat,' said the cat. 'Ha,' said the fox, 'but aren't you afraid, cat, to be roaming the forest alone? What will you do if the king comes a-hunting? With hounds and mounted hunters and beaters? I tell you, cat,' said the fox, 'the chase is a dreadful hardship to creatures like you and I. You have a pelt, I have a pelt, and hunters never spare creatures like us, because hunters have sweethearts and lovers, and their little hands and necks get cold, so they make muffs and collars for those strumpets to wear.'"

"What are muffs?" Ciri asked.

"Don't interrupt. And the fox went on, 'I, cat, know how to outwit them; I have one thousand, two hundred and eighty-six ways to outfox those hunters, so cunning am I. And you, cat, how many ways do you have?'"

"Oh, what a fine tale," Ciri said, cuddling more tightly to the Witcher. "What did the cat say?"

"Aye," whispered Braenn from the other side. "What did the cat say?"

The Witcher turned his head. The dryad's eyes were sparkling, her mouth was half-open and she was running her tongue over her lips. He could understand. Little dryads were hungry for tales. Just stories. Little dryads fell asleep listening raptly to the wind blowing in the trees. Little witchers fell asleep listening raptly to their aching arms and legs. Our eyes also shone like Braenn's when we listened to the tales of Vesemir in Kaer Morhen. But that was long ago... So long ago...

And I'm utterly crushed. Milva's final thought about her father teaching her how to shoot as a child. Angouleme musing about running a brothel in Beauclaire in Ciri's arms. Cahir stalling Bonhart. Regis taking on Vilgefortz...It's pretty rare for reading something in a novel to make me weep like a baby, but losing Angouleme and especially Milva was goddamn HARD.

It really makes me appreciate seeing Regis again in Blood and Wine, and gives those interactions SO much more depth. It does make me sad that, after Geralt regains his memories, his hanza wasn't brought up. I'm hopeful that future Witcher game content addresses those beloved souls...