One thing I can't stand, it's people groveling. I can't. Run away! Well, do us a favor. His head smashed in and his heart cut out.
I'm not interested! In that case, I shall have to kill you. Well, on second thought, let's not go to Camelot. It is a silly place. Oh, cut your own head off! Right. Remove the supports!
Well, he will be soon. He's very ill. Oh! ...but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more major--
Look, you stupid bastard. You've got no arms left. Well, how did you become King, then? Have at you! You make me sad. So be it. Come, Patsy. Halt! We burn her! Right! Yeaaah! Yeaah! Oh, don't grovel! And the hat, but she is a witch!
It could be carried by an African swallow! Well I got better. Then I dub you 'Sir Bedemere, Knight of the Round Table'.
Oh, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations. I mean, if I went 'round saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away! Who's that, then? Well, how did you become King, then? Thppppt! I can't take him. Halt! Who goes there? Bravely ran away, away.
Ah, but can you not also make bridges out of stone? Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries! In that case, I shall have to kill you. Yes. Look! I feel fine! Then who is your lord? You liar!
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