Was the week before Vegas, and all through the place

The drinks, they were flowing, it looked like a race

The the slickers from Vegas, were spoiling to fight

As Mounties were saying, "Now, that’s surely not right"

"You have played four games, you surely do smell

There’s no way that you ‘ll win, there is no way in Hell"

As they paused for a breath, they took a quick drink

A fellow from Vegas," It is you folks that stink!"

"Because we have a great team, and we’re from the West

Now, it’s just common sense, that we should be the best

‘Cause you’re just hillbillies, your from the Big East

 Its been well documented, that you all are the least"

Well, it started an uproar, then someone said, "hick"

Almost sure, I heard, "liar", and I might of heard, "prick"

Was a moment of silence, then a hillbilly farted

At the blast of ill wind, the fighting was started

There’s a time, for departing, for making of wills

So I bolted that place, without paying my bills

I do not know the ending, I can’t say that I will

And as far as I know, they are all fighting still

Now, I didn’t get an answer, I don’t know who’s right

So, pray tell me kind sirs, who’s the victor tonight