Look well, Arthur, for it is your sacred task to seek this grail. If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us in our quest for the Holy Grail.
It could grip it by the husk. Aaaaaaaah! I feel fine! Uh, he's already got one, you see.
Oh! I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old. Yes! She looks like one. Now, this is your last chance. I've been more than reasonable. Sir! I have a plan, sir. Are there?
Cherries! Well, what are you, then? Yes. Yes, Lord. Aagh! Look, I'll have your leg. The Black Knight always triumphs! Have at you! Come on, then. Bravely bold Sir Robin rode forth from Camelot. He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp.
Aaaagh! And what do you burn apart from witches? And this one's for your dad! Quiet! Quiet! Quiet! Quiet! Come here! What a strange person. Now stand aside, worthy adversary. Uh, he's already got one, you see. He hasn't got shit all over him. Not at all. They could be carried.
The Britons. And this isn't my nose. It's a false one. Brave Sir Robin ran away.
Well, don't. It's like those miserable Psalms-- they're so depressing. Fiends! I'll tear them apart! There are ways of telling whether she is a witch.