You make me sad. So be it. Come, Patsy. 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. That's-- that's, uh-- that's enough music for now, lads. If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us in our quest for the Holy Grail. Well, how did you become King, then? Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?
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He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp. Uh, gra-- gravy! It's not a question of where he grips it! It's a simple question of weight ratios! A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound coconut. Well, don't. It's like those miserable Psalms-- they're so depressing. Oh, let's be nice to him.