Do they hurt? I'm invincible! None shall pass. None shall pass. ...by a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs,... So he has. He's scarpered. Bravely ran away, away.
What, held under the dorsal guiding feathers? Found them? In Mercia? The coconut's tropical! Please! Brave Sir Robin ran away.
It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons, defeater of the Saxons, Sovereign of all England! He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp. You're not fooling anyone, you know. Look. Isn't there something you can do? Oh, yeah, I agree with that.
I've had worse. In that case, I shall have to kill you. Ah, but can you not also make bridges out of stone? Not at all. They could be carried. Yes, I see. I fart in your general direction! Well, why not? ...by a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs,... So be it!
Thursday. What a strange person. God be praised! Right! Yeah! Yeah! Oh, yeah. Well, don't. It's like those miserable Psalms-- they're so depressing.
Who leaps out? I have to push the pram a lot. Charge! Did you dress her up like this? Oh! Am I right? Thursday. The nose? The Black Knight always triumphs! Have at you! Come on, then. Arthur! Arthur, King of the Britons!
I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old. Who leaps out? What do you mean? None shall pass. And that, my liege, is how we know the earth to be banana-shaped.
Aaaagh! Arthur! Arthur, King of the Britons! Burn her! Burn! Burn her! Burn her!
If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us in our quest for the Holy Grail. Well, I can't just call you 'Man'. Oh. Oh, I see. Running away, eh? You yellow bastards! Come back here and take what's coming to you. I'll bite your legs off! Yes, he is. Brave Sir Robin ran away. Shh! Knights, I bid you welcome to your new home. Let us ride... to... Camelot! Tell us! Tell us! Will you ask your master if he wants to join my court at Camelot?!
Shut up, will you? Shut up! 'cause they're made of... wood? Yes, do us all a favor! Why? Right. Right. Well, simple! They'd just use a strand of creeper! Oh, don't be such a baby.
Yes. But then of course, uh, African swallows are non-migratory. Exactly. So, logically... Does wood sink in water? Yes, do us all a favor! Chicken!
Is there someone else up there we could talk to? Oh, don't be such a baby.
It could be carried by an African swallow! Listen. Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony. I have to push the pram a lot. Exactly. So, logically... Well, I can't just call you 'Man'. Umm! Look! Man!
Well, but you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you! What are they? He beat a very brave retreat... Here is a duck. Use this duck.
Yes, brave Sir Robin turned about... Aaagh! Burn her! Burn her! Burn her! He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp. No, I've got to go to the Robinsons'. They've lost nine today. It's only a model. So, why do witches burn? Where'd you get the coconuts? I think I'll go for a walk.