We haven't got enough mud. I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old. Tell us! Tell us! Well, when's your next round? It's only a model. 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. 'Course it's a good idea! Behold! Umm!