Short Ballad update due to Holy Week hullabaloo (Patreon)

Too soon, the bell rang and the pies stopped flying.  My fur was spotless, untouched by even a speck of pie from the barrage.  I bowed to the judges and stood awaiting their deliberation.

It was then that I realized, with a great degree of trepidation, that I recognized all three of them.

"No vun likes ein show-off," SALV Chesswick snorted contemptuously.  "Five points deducted for tryink to out-do der original Pie-Fight Valkyrie."

"Ten points ADDED," Vulpsmarshal Sweetcheeks leered.  "On the condition that at the dinner you sit beside me, Sweetcheeks."

"Whatever, dude," Estmere yawned.  "She like, didn't get hit with any pies so that's a perfect score in my book.  Are we done yet?  I am so sick of looking at vixens, man.  How many more are there?"

Before I could ponder such questions as:  How did Estmere wind up judging talent contests at a PieFightValKon?  And:  Did he recognize me?  Everyone was suddenly distracted by Sergeant Avogadro lunging against the barrier behind the judges' stall.

"IT'S HER!" he yelled frantically.  "HERE I AM!  HERE I AM!!  I LOVE YOU!  LET ME BE YOUR GROSSFUNK!"

......

At the edge of the square:

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