In the year of our Lord two thousand and four, QuestMaster, Lady Laura received a divine message whilst she averted her eyes and from that message hatched a ridiculous idea to host a silly and rather impertinent “Quest for the Holy Grail.” The hatched idea took root and spread. “Oh, I will have people pay to attend this Quest!” shouted the Master. The seed was planted…the people paid …the people demanded more…and here you are four years later – your wits in hand, you are now ready to conquer this Quest and behave as only silly and impertinent people do. You can become a part of history, as you embark on the Pythonish “Quest for the Holy Grail.”
God: Well, don't. It's just like those miserable psalms, always so depressing. Now knock it off!
French Soldier: I don't want to talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.
Dennis: Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' 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.
King Arthur:This new learning amazes me, Sir Bedevere. Explain again how sheep's bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes.
0 comments:
Post a Comment