In the beauty of the sun dappled glade, Sir Ryan the Chicken Harted, incorrectly named Robin earlier in this story, proudly trotted, onward toward the goal...the glorious Cup of Christ...the Holy Grail. Behind him trailed his faithful servants, a musician and a lovely lady who could not carry much of a tune but thought Sir Ryan was cute.
The Troubadour sang beautifully, while accompanying himself with a small drum.
“Bravely bold Sir Ryan, rode forth from Camelot, He was not afraid to die, Oh brave Sir Ryan, He was not afraid to be killed in nasty ways, Brave, Brave, Brave, Brave Sir Ryan!
He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp Or have his eyes gouged out and his elbows broken, To have his kneecaps split and his body burned away, And his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Ryan!
His head smashed in, and his heart cut out, And his liver removed, and his bowels unplugged, And his nostrils raped, and his bottom burned off, And his peni--“
“Uh...that’s enough music, lad. It looks like there’s dirty work afoot,” brave Sir Ryan interrupted, looking a bit green.
“Brave, brave, bra--“ the Troubadour continued singing.
The happy band continued forth into the forest, until they spied three knights impaled on an enormous lance, which was then thrust into the trunk of a tree. They did not look comfortable. Trembling a bit, Sir Ryan signaled his following forward.
Scant feet later, they passed three knights sitting on the ground, each with an absolutely huge axe through his head.
Terrifying music began welling up, until the tension was so thick, it was on the verge of making Sir Ryan wet himself.
“Stop it, merry band of players!” insisted the tremulous brave, Sir Ryan.
“It’s not me! It’s the background music!” cried the Troubadour.
“Oh,” said Sir Ryan. “All right then.”
Suddenly, Sir Ryan stopped. Towering before him was an impossible sight -- a huge Three-Headed Knight.
“Halt! Who are thou!” boomed the First Head.
Singing, the Troubadour replied, “He is brave Sir Ryan, brave Sir Ryan, who --“
“Shut up!” snarled Sir Ryan. Then lightly back to the three headed knight, “Oh, nobody really...just passing through, you know.”
“What do you want?” boomed the Second Head.
“To fight and --“ continued the melodious Troubadour.
“Shut up!” hissed Sir Ryan, and to the knight again, “Nothing really. Just to pass through, good Sir Knight.”
“I’m afraid not,” boomed the Third Head.
Standing a little straighter, Sir Ryan replied, “I am a Knight of King Arthur’s Round Table.”
“The square one?” boomed the First Head.
“It is,” boomed the Second Head.
“Then I am a Knight of King Arthur’s Square Table,” replied Sir Ryan proudly. In truth, his secret hope was that the Three Headed Knight would be so afraid of the very reputation of his brother Knights that he could get through peacefully.
“It’s pretty hard to be afraid of a knight who doesn’t even know if a table is round or square,” boomed the Third Head.
“Yes, there is that,” replied the First Head.
“So shall we kill him?” asked the Second Head.
“I don’t think so. He’s too stupid to kill,” argued the Third Head.
“He might not be stupid, he might just not know the difference between square and round,” said the First Head.
“That IS stupid,” answered the Third Head.
“Stupid is such a harsh word. Let’s say ignorant instead,” replied the Second Head, reasonably.
“Ignorant isn’t the same as stupid,” argued the Third Head.
“Yes, it is!” insisted the First Head.
“It’s not!” yelled the Third Head.
The Second Head just rolled his eyes. At which point he noticed that Sir Ryan had disappeared.
“Brave Sir Ryan ran away,” sang the Troubadour.
“I didn’t,” Sir Ryan replied, irritated.
“Bravely, bravely, ran away.”
“No, no, no.”
The Troubadour cast a keen eye at Sir Ryan and continued singing, “When danger reared its ugly head, Sir Ryan turned his tail and fled. Yes, brave Sir Ryan turned about, And gallantly he chickened out. Bravely taking to his feet, He beat a very brave retreat. Bravest of the brave Sir Ryan, Petrified of being dead, Soiled his pants, then brave Sir Ryan, Turned away and fled.”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Sir Ryan pulled out his long knife and threatened the Troubadour with it.
The Troubadour, pleased at this development, pulled out his revolver and pointed it at Sir Ryan. “You can’t have that here!” squeaked Sir Ryan. “This is a medieval milleau!”
“I can. I can even show you my badge, if you like,” the Troubadour replied. “You’re under the arrest for the murder of Orem. Now come peacefully, ‘Brave’ Sir Ryan.” There was a touch of sneer to his final sentence.
“Damn. I wet myself,” commented Sir Ryan. And to adjust his armor, he raised his knife, which the Troubadour took as a threat.
He pulled the trigger.
The first bullet ricocheted off the armor and hit Rivka, the groupie. She collapsed, dead.
He pulled the trigger again.
The second bullet hit Sir Ryan full in the face. With a loud clank, he toppled to the ground, his shield bearing his signature charge chicken covering him poetically.
Howling with vengence, the small screaming horde of black dressed spies swarmed the sun dappled glade, stabbed the Troubadour a dozen or more times, then swept off to parts unknown for the next scene.
Damien, CITIZEN, died of natural causes Eruve Nandiriel, CITIZEN, died of natural causes Anna, CITIZEN, killed by mafia blacwolve, POLICEMAN, killed by mafia msquared, POLICEMAN, killed by mafia newfoundlogic, CITIZEN, killed by mafia Raia, CITIZEN, killed by mafia rivka, CITIZEN, killed by mafia Ryuko, CITIZEN, killed by mafia T_Smith, CITIZEN, killed by mafia Troubador, POLICEMAN, killed by mafia Youth ap Orem, CITIZEN, killed by mafia Damander, MAFIA, lynched hansenj, MAFIA, lynched Head Ditch Digger, MAFIA, lynched jamaha, CITIZEN, lynched Narnia, DOCTOR, lynched Ralphie, CITIZEN, lynched Ryan Hart, MAFIA, lynched Zevlag, MAFIA, lynched
Rivka, I promise that your next death will be Pulitzer material. Picking the scene for this one was pretty easy (it was either this one or the King Brian scene, which didn't actually make it into the movie but is a funny read from the script), but weaving you into it was harder. I didn't do you justice. But I'll make it up to you next time.
Posts: 68 | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |
I, MojoJojo would be remiss in my responsibilities as an evil genius if I could not count myself as voting for the evilcelia who is currently being voted for in this thread, that I am now posting on.
*strikes evil pose*
Today, we will witness the fulmination of my, MojoJojo'sevil plot do dominate the city of Townsville, and that plan, which is coming to fruition within this thread, that I am currently posting into! It will not be long before I strike down those cursed POWERPUFFS and my evil plan of WORLD DOMINATION comes to it's climax!
Okay folks, could we please ask that you only post in names of who you are in the game? It's only muddying the waters. Of course that could be part of it. Who are all of these?
Posts: 2848 | Registered: Feb 2003
| IP: Logged |
Soapy, it's okay. For a moment I thought there was some ambiguity on the voting trend, but it's becoming clearer to me which direction the wind is blowing.
Posts: 68 | Registered: Sep 2003
| IP: Logged |