Ted Mosby: Hey, Barney. I got a little poem for you. You want to hear it?
Barney Stinson: No, not really.
Ted Mosby: T'was the night before, I had hours to kill. I sat in the tavern, grading parchments with quill.
Barney Stinson: With quill?
Ted Mosby: Barney. It's a poem.
Ted Mosby: A busty, young lassie flashed me a grin.Her garb said "classy," but her eyes whispered "sin." She said, "you're a teacher?" I said, "yes, indeed." "I must have you," she moaned. "I'm turned on by tweed." With haste we did scamper To my chamber anon. We fell to the couch, and, bro, it was on. I unlaced her bodice. Our passions grew deeper. And thus ends the tale of the sexless innkeeper.