No contest.

Matty sat, trying to maintain her lady-like posture, on Guarf's floor, but not very successfully. Too much Dwarven stout knocked her manners down. She tossed her head back and laughed--he had a way with words, the old curmudgeon. (She had a knack for seeing under others' crusty masks, and kept the gift fresh by never revealing it.)

Their contest? Dirtiest limericks. She was still crimson pink from the last round. Start one, finish one, were the rules. Nothing else, jokers' wild.

"Oh, lassie, betcha can't finish this one! --

There once were two girls from Darnassus

Whose boobs were as big as their assess...

Go on! What are the next few lines?!"

She smiled..."Okay, my hammered friend:"

There once were two girls from Darnassus

Whose boobs were as big as their assess...

Until a zeppelin flew by

and let out a sigh

and aimed straight for their crevasses...

Guarf looked in wonderment at the sweet girl. 

He just shook his head and drank his ale.