I-- what? Then I dub you 'Sir Bedemere, Knight of the Round Table'. And don't apologize. Exactly. So, logically... I'm French! Why do think I have this outrageous accent, you silly king-a?! Cherries!
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Old woman! ...but all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting... He buggered off. So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Mercia, through... No. Aagh!
Not at all. They could be carried. Mud! It's a fair cop. Aaaaaaaah! I command you, as King of the Britons, to stand aside! Aaaagh! None shall pass.
Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Well, why not? You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictatorship: a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes-- Bring out your dead! I am Arthur, King of the Britons. And that, my liege, is how we know the earth to be banana-shaped. Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system. It could be carried by an African swallow! I-- what?
She turned me into a newt. You'll what? Where'd you get the coconuts? In war we're tough and able, quite indefatigable. Between our quests we sequin vests and impersonate Clark Gable. Wait a minute! Supposing two swallows carried it together? I seek the finest and the bravest knights in the land to join me in my court at Camelot.