What is your name? Do they hurt? It could be carried by an African swallow! Very good. We shall use my largest scales. Well, don't. It's like those miserable Psalms-- they're so depressing. ...but all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting... Every time I try to talk to someone it's 'sorry this' and 'forgive me that' and 'I'm not worthy'. I am, and this is my trusty servant Patsy. We have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of knights who will join me in my court at Camelot. I must speak with your lord and master. Man. Sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there?
Who art thou? Listen. In order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings forty-three times every second, right? Looks like there's dirty work afoot. Lead! Lead! You're using coconuts! Nothing. Here's your nine pence. His head smashed in and his heart cut out.
I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old. Nothing. Here's your nine pence. So, they couldn't bring a coconut back anyway. Well, we did do the nose. Right! Arthur, King of the Britons, your Knights of the Round Table shall have a task to make them an example in these dark times. Are there? Throw her into the pond! What? Ridden on a horse? Shut up, will you? Shut up!
Oh? All right, we'll call it a draw. Here is a duck. Use this duck. Right. Remove the supports! That is your purpose, Arthur: the quest for the Holy Grail. He beat a very brave retreat... Run away! What are you doing now?! What is your name? So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Mercia, through... Dennis, there's some lovely filth down here. Oh! How d'you do?
What are you going to do, bleed on me? That is why I am your king! Bravely bold Sir Robin rode forth from Camelot. Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system. Oh, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations. Who art thou? That is your purpose, Arthur: the quest for the Holy Grail. Right! Yeah! Yeah! Yes.
Oh, yeah. True. Uhh... We haven't got enough mud. It's a busy life in Camelot.
Halt! Well, do us a favor. You have proved yourself worthy. Will you join me? Yes, brave Sir Robin turned about... Aaaagh! Run away! Run away! Run away! Run away! Run away! Run away! Run away! Then you shall die. Look, stop that. Oh, yes. It's very nice. I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old.
Well, you could say 'Dennis'. No, it floats! It floats! Arthur, this is the Holy Grail. I'm not! Oh, King, eh, very nice. And how d'you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers! By 'anging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. If there's ever going to be any progress with the-- Oh, don't grovel!
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! Come here! I fart in your general direction! I don't wanna talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough wiper!
What are they? Thpppppt! Thppt! Thppt! More witches! The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water signifying by Divine Providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. Hah! Allo! Who is eet? Just a flesh wound. What also floats in water?
Yapping on all the time. 'Ere. He says he's not dead!