In a smoky room where the rookies roam,
The kings and queens were far from home.
Gathered round on a Wednesday night,
Chess pieces pondering, minds taking flight.
With munchies aplenty, the clock started to tick,
But these potheads played chess at a comical click.
“Wait, is it my turn?” one player exclaimed,
Meanwhile, his knight was already tamed.
All strategizing was done with a grin,
“Bro, let’s both move like the pawns in our skin!”
As bishops got mixed up with funky old tunes,
And rooks flapped their arms, dancing under the moons.
The audience giggled, passing around fries,
While pondering the meaning of black and white ties.
“Dude, did I just trade my queen for a joint?”
“Nah man, that’s your castle; it’s just out of point!”
As the game wore on, the pieces sat still,
In a cosmic cloud formed by good vibes and chill.
Then came the moment, the final showdown,
“Checkmate! No, wait… what’s the deal with the crown?”
So they laughed and they joked, until dawn’s early light,
In a stoned state of bliss, their minds took flight.
Chess kings may conquer with strategies clear,
But high on THC, laughter reigned here!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
