This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
By Donnie Tapp and David Huff
PREVIEW: Preview Announcer- Coming to a theater near you in less than five minutes! (shows Arthur galloping across a field) A cinematic endeavour the likes of which have never been seen! (now shows only the field, sans Arthur and horse) A triumph of film that shall revolutionize the art form! (shows someone contemplating a piece of modern art) Featuring such notable stars as Donald Tapp, (shows one of Donnie's characters) David Huff, (shows one of David's characters) hermits of all kinds, (shows a hermit) and a common household appliance (shows a picture of a toaster)! Knight's Errand (shows title in gothic font)! Retelling the epic tale of King Arthur and his knights of the Slightly Round Table, unburdened by any sort of factual content whatsoever (shows Arthur and his fellow knights sitting at a slightly round table)! Arthur- My esteemed brothers in arms, we have been called forth in quest of the Holy Grail! Percival- I'm not your brother, and I'm certainly not in your arms. Arthur- That is beside the point, brave Sir Percival. The grailPercival- And what is a grail, anyway? It's supposed to be a cup, and I've heard of tumblers and goblets and tankards, but who's ever had a drink out of a grail? Arthur- The Son of God himself did drink from it at the last supper. Bors- You know, I've heard that the grail isn't a cup at all, it's a person. You see, Jesus actually had children, and the grail is his great-great-great-great-greatGalahad- Sir Bors! Whoever put such a blasphemous idea into your head? Bors- Well, there was this looney artist fellow named Leonardo Da Vinci, and he had this codeGalahad- Do silence your forked tongue, man. You and I both know Da Vinci won't be born for several hundred years. Arthur- Galahad! Bors! Cease your bickering at once! (screen goes black, displays release date) Percival- Is any of this actually going to be in the film? Bors- I expect not. What's a film? Percival- I dunno.
Crystal Ball- Credits and the following Narrator-A solitary figure looks on into the night, overseeing the liberation of his people in a small town off the bluff. He is, however, not vicariously attached to this occasion in any way; his story is of greater importance. His situation towards this tale is similar in circumstance. He does serve in one purpose as setting the despondent mood prevalent in our tale. But, then, we’re not sure who he is. Hopefully there will be no consequential lawsuit involving him.
Carry on Wayward Son (Kansas) (King Arthur in the search of the Sangrael, riding his horse in a most interesting fashion, finds himself in the company of a hermit) Arthur- I have beheld a vision of this morning, and possessing such incompetence of spirit that I for some
time lacked the strength to stand, I have settled for this, canst though expound unto me the import of said? Hermit- The Sangrael lay somewhere, find it, and stop talking like a bloomin’ idjit. Arthur- You know not to whom you address; may you continue in ignorance (Rides off, hermit dies in a random off hand manner.) Narrator- On the ensuing account of the proceedings of our central male character, it would be perhaps best to abbreviate some events, and evade others for lack of time. In short five days past, having little occasion worth mention, before the following account, involving a mass of French decent. French- We will have our union! Arthur (kills one on his way through, turns back)- What have you to say in pretext of this? French- We still want our union! This is merely a demure in the determination of our reason! Arthur- Very well. (Battle ensues in which much french are all felled) Arthur- The working man is long dead here
Farewell to Kings (Rush) Narrator- This being the account of such events as are deemed worthy of being in the account, we continue roughly 2 hours into the future of our protagonist’s life. Arthur- I come with hands bearing the blood of many Frenchmen, is there water near? Effigy Guy- I must give you my deepest commiserations in replying there is no such source. Arthur- I see… what is it that you are doing? Effigy Guy- I am demonstrating mine anger toward a personage who causes me great pain, in peaceful protest, involving the holy union of fire and flammable substances. Arthur- this gives pretense to such merit worthy of remembrance. Would you join me in the search of the Sangrael? Effigy Guy- I would. Narrator- And so it was that another was enlisted in the ranks of honor, in the search of the Sangrael. Many would follow, but few as recondite as he. Arthur- Let us ride on Narrator- And the commencement of time for the duration of this pursuit was uneventful for near five days. Arthur- What is the diversion of attention in which that man is engaging? Effigy Guy- Making sorrow for the death of his kin. Arthur- Is that so? Effigy Guy- Yes. Arthur- Really? Effigy Guy- Undoubtedly. Arthur- You there, what is the diversion of attention in which you are engaging titled as being? MSG- I am in the act of making sorrow for the death of my kin. Arthur- I see… would you have the courage and fortitude to join me in my search?
MSG- What is the search you speak of? Arthur- I see no relevance in that disposition of inquiry. Effigy Guy- I do. Arthur- Of course you do. Effigy Guy- Yes, I do. Arthur- As I previously avowed, you do. Effigy Guy- What does it matter if ‘is question is relevant in your eyes, we're all equal in the eyes of our creator. Arthur- It matters greatly. Effigy Guy- Really? Arthur- Have you nothing more to say? Effigy Guy- That’s why I play drums, its me active compensatory factor. Arthur - I’m leaving. Effigy guy- He’s in search of the holiest of holy. MSG- Is he? Effigy Guy- Yes, he is. MSG- All right then, let's be off to whatever trial the eve of the communion of the sun and moon may have in store.
Suite Madam Blue (Styx) Narrator- They rode on for five days, at which point they came to a large edifice, and continued on for three more days. They then approached a vast citadel, the battlements rife with soldiers. Much admiration was made at this, after which the company rode on for ten more days. It was then that they came to the scene of a vast bloody battle in the deepest of valleys. On the on side, there was a great army wearing fine armor, polished to such an exceedingly bright sheen that it reflected the light of the sun in each knight’s countenance, and shone forth with the white light of heaven. On the other side of the greatest of conflicts, another tremendous mass of knights were relentlessly besieging, savagely, threateningly encased in suits of plate, chain, and mail darker with age and blood than the ravens of death itself. Between the two opposing legions of deadly knighthood lay the wasteland of previous conflagrations, a desolate plain reminiscent of the lowest depths of hell, filled with the decaying bodies of hundreds, nay, thousands of warriors, many cruelly torn by carrion scavengers and other vile beasts. Some were reduced to the mere skeletons of what had once been the greatest swordsmen in all the lands of Albion. Upon seeing this staggeringly violent conflict, our brave heroes continued to ride for three more days. (The retinue of knights were also much pleased on finding Galahad to have joined them upon their stay and observation. (Arthur and co. put lighters away.) Galahad- Where’d that little old man go? Arthur- Down thea. Galahad- Down thea? Arthur- Yes, down thea. Galahad- I’ll give him a couple of minutes then. Effigy Guy- The Wind Cries Mary. Galahad- Does it?
Arthur- Oh, do stop asking such meaningless questions. Wind Cries Mary (Jimi Hendrix) Narrator- It was on this, the following night, that Galahad beheld a dream of grand proportions, involving a sheltering sparrow, feeding herself to her young, that perhaps they might live another day, on which day they had the pleasure of falling from the countenance of the great tree upon which they stood. On awakening, Galahad immediately sent for the nearest hermit. Upon finding said hermit to be within a highly favorable distance, Galahad inquired as to the meaning of his great vision. Hermit- It is a sign of good fortune, to both the beholder and his company. Effigy Guy- Zap! Narrator- Upon this response, Galahad made much joy, with the assistance of the making sorrow personage mentioned before in this tale. Upon the next day, Galahad experienced the great misfortune of drowning while sleepwalking, so that when he awoke, he was dead, and seeing this, went back to sleep, this leading that his vision may have only been induced by bad wine, or possibly large quantities of good wine. The company could, however, rule out crack cocaine, as this would not be discovered for several years. Sir Bors was happy to take Galahad’s place in the company, being in the country, and having already failed in his quest twice, or possibly thrice, as he was not often an honest person, once claiming to have invented the nation of Greece. The hermit was condemned for his misinterpretation of the vision, and was dropped off of a large precipice thrice or possibly twice, as he was not often found an honest person, once claiming to have invented Sir Bors.
Tribute (Tenacious D) Narrator- We come to the tale of how Sir Percival came to find the devil, and join his comrades. In the search of the Sangrael. Percival- This is the best song in the world (Percival whips out his guitar, the instrument of the gods, and commences.) Tribute- Black and White special effects. Narrator- The beast was done, and Percival was joined by his comrades of old. For they had by convenience been in that country, for to drop an hermit from a precipice. Arthur- Brave Percival, what was that in which I stepped in, with which my boot did receive much soiling? Percival- Tha’ be the devil. Arthur- Are you yet in the belief that it may be consumed some day soon, leaving no discoloration or vestige with which to defile mine countenance? Little Old Man- Fool! Arthur- He can speak? Effigy Guy- Of course he can speak, ‘e's a person, isn’ ‘e, ‘e's my grandfather. Percival- He’s not your grandfather. Effigy Guy- Why not? Percival- I've already met your grandfather, and that doesn’t look a thing like him. Effigy Guy- We're all entitled to two, aren’t we? Arthur- He’s very clean. And tell me, where did you both suddenly acquire Cockney accents? Percival- We bought them from a hermit. Arthur- Oh, I see. LOM- Fool!
Dust In the Wind (Kansas) Narrator- Sir Bors, upon mention of the devil, however brief and far off, then related his tale, inclusive of an encounter in which he had occasioned on having with the devil. The said tale is said to have encompassed an horse, and himself, but will not occasion to relation in this tale, due to its tedious character, and intellectual abruptness. The space of four days ride finds our comrades in strange lands. The space of five days ride then finds our advocates in normal lands. MSG- Brazil’s in South Africa, you dolt. Narrator- In the commencement of our party’s divergence from strange lands, into normal ones, King Arthur received an harrowing treatise from one Martin Luther. (Arrow hits tree, letter is taken from arrow) Arthur- I will not acquiesce to these frivolities. (Hermit runs on rampantly, carrying a huge basket on his back, stabs letter with stick, sets fire to the paper, begins to run off, and trips, stabbing himself through with the stick on his way down, paper is still burning.) Arthur- Let us look to some celestial body north of here for guidance. Galahad- If north should be your due course of action, regardless of external events, why then would you take it upon yourself to disturb the vast surface of celestial observation? King Arthur- Are you not dead? Galahad- Through both time and distance I traveled, but lingered between the grasp of death’s cold hand, and the fleeting warmth of life. Long did I lay in the deepest depths of despair and agony, but my time had not come, I was sent back, to fulfill the destined comings of this land. MSG-The governing of our souls is handled much to the like of a plantation, and there be not one among you who knows not what I mean.
I’m A Boy (The Who) Arthur- What is it that man is doing? Chaucer- Trudging. Arthur- What? Chaucer- To trudge, a long, sallow, callous, walk, for one who does not abide to have ends meet, and will never have need. Arthur- How do you come? Chaucer- I am called Richard the Lionheart in consummate civility. Galahad- His overwhelming expatiation affronts my soul. Percival (takes out knife)- There is but little room here for such… Chaucer- Little room is of far greater expedience than else. Arthur (singing)- Sitting on the shore by the river, playin' guitar... (Long pause, then slowly fade into Knights Tale of Chaucer, fade back for a time) Arthur (singing)- Hey Joe, why’d you have to… (Fade back into Knight's Tale of Chaucer. Pan out for shot of spring foliage and all that crap)
Narrator- In the Tabard Inn, near London, Chaucer was fortunate enough to become aware of himself in the company of several personages in the midst of an pilgrimage to Canterbury, the good host of this pilgrimage was kind enough to take the great burden upon himself of charging his fellows in the telling of a tale, and the first lot was felled on a rather young Knight. Arthur- What knight was that? LOM- Fool! Narrator- And so Chaucer embarked upon the dissemination of five minutes' worth of utterly pointless knowledge. At this time, Sirs Galahad, Percival, and Bors made the fateful decision to go their separate ways from Arthur temporarily. The inclusion of the word 'fateful' in this piece of narration is intended to give an ominous impression, as if such splitting of the groups led to the death of one or more of their party, which bears no significance, as none of them did meet said fate in their journeys. Not that death held any great respect among these, they having collectively died several times. I say several because we are not sure of the exact number, because Sir Bors may have been lying. In any case, we now continue to Chaucer's ballad.
Foxey Lady (Jimi Hendrix) Arcite (playing his guitar in the corner)- Hey… Palamon… window... (Points out the window) Palamon- Man, she’s a fox… hey Arcite, can you play that last one again? Arcite? Narrator- Through gracious intercession, young Arcite was freed, unfortunately, his rapture was remarkably fleeting, extending only twenty-two lines into the tale, and he was banished from Athens, though fortune again shone upon Arcite shortly thereafter, as the act of illegal immigration is exponentially more straightforward than illegal degration. (Shot of Arcite walking back through the gates of whatever city this is supposed to be) Palamon (singing)- She came in through the bathroom window. (While cracking open a window) Narrator- Though both tasks are equally simple when laid low by socialistic ideals and principles. (Shot of Palamon walking in an untroubled manner, followed by shot of Arcite doing the same, followed again by Palamon) The eventual meeting of these two resulted in a reasonably large scrap, which was in turn interrupted by the circuitously precise Duke Theseus. Theseus- I’ve gone to the greatest pains in punishing the both of you… go... kill each other or something. If either stands at the errands end, he shall marry my sister. Narrator- The fox. Arcite-(to Palamon) The fox. Palamon- The fox? Arcite- Yes, the fox. Palamon- You're letting the man get you down. Arcite- What of it? Narrator- And so it followed that Arcite came to win the fox, having bested Palamon to the point of death, before fate interceded. (Shot of Arcite falling gracefully from his horse fades into a shot of a great fire in honor of the occasion) Arcite met his end, and Palamon was given the breathtaking hand of the young fox to marry.
Dreamer (Supertramp) Arthur- I do not find happiness in this tale. Indeed, it brings great sorrow to my eternal soul; for two who
once were friends wax bitter ere the end. Chaucer- I'll be the poetic one, thank you. Arthur- As you wish. There was also a grievous error of continuity present, you know. Chaucer- No, there wasn't. Arthur- Yes, there was. Chaucer- No, you just tricked yourself into believing that because the story was vague on this point. Arthur- Well, does not that also create a problem? Chaucer- No, I find it's effect exceedingly soothing. Arthur- But it exhibits a lack of common sense! Chaucer- Yes, I know. Arthur- Ought that not to be corrected? Chaucer- No, as I have said, I find it soothing. Arthur- But there is no structure! How can you find it soothing that your own story bears such regrettable absence of thought? Chaucer- It's metaphysical, really. Arthur- I shall strike you down. Chaucer- No. Arthur- Why not? Chaucer- Well, how are you supposed to become a legend without some manner of minstrel to exaggerate your exploits until they seem heroic? Arthur-(sheathes sword) I suppose you are correct. Narrator- And so it came to pass that Chaucer continued to exist in a state of having his head firmly attached to his shoulders. (Chaucer's head falls off) Narrator- Usually. Arthur- Here, your head's fallen off! Chaucer's Head- Yes, this could be ever so slightly problematic. Arthur- Alas! It speaks, though it be separated from all organs that are supposed to be necessary for such activity! What demon is this? Chaucer- Dear Arthur-Arthur- Please don't refer to me as dear, I shall not tolerate it, O severed one. Chaucer- All right then. However, whether or not I refer to you as dear has absolutely no bearing on the remedy to my decapitatory state. Arthur- I can think of no cure for such a serious case of phrenological disillusionment. Chaucer- Well, something really must be done. I cannot continue unless we discover a solution. I am sorely cranially challenged. Narrator- In order to keep what semblance of a plot this film possesses moving along, we shall now cut to Galahad, Percival, and Bors.
(Cuts to said party for one second, tense orchestral music playing, then cuts back to Arthur and Chaucer) Arthur- There, your head has taken it's rightful place atop your neck. Chaucer- Yes, it has.
Time For Me To Fly (REO Speedwagon) Narrator- Galahad, Percival, and Bors met with a hermit. Hermit- I shall teach you to fly! (jumps off large precipice, proceeds to the bottom, and dies) Galahad- In sooth, his lack of faith was his downfall. Percival- No, I should believe his downfall was his downfall. Galahad(starts flying)- In sooth, he has taught me to fly! Narrator- And so, because of Galahad's great faith, they did overcome that oppressive taskmaster that is Gravity. The three of them flew for three days in a northerly direction. They would have flown longer, but Percival, having not stopped to drink water in those three days, died, and fell from the sky in a dehydrated manner. Our heroes spent a week making sorrow, because the making sorrow man had somehow suddenly accompanied them. Plot devices are wonderful things. Once they had made sorrow, Percival woke up, and they flew on for four more days before striking a cliff wall. Galahad- Behold, we have struck a cliff wall! Bors- Behold, it does continue on infinitely in both directions! It is a ray! Percival- Are you implying that we have encountered the wall at the end of the world? Bors- Nonsense. Everyone knows that there is no wall at the end of the world. There is a great waterfall that pours off into the void of infinity. Percival- That is a large wagonful of excrement originating from a male bovine! Why don't we run out of water then? Bors- England has a rather nasty rainy season. Galahad- Do cease your bickering. Are you both entirely ignorant of scientific concept? Bors- I suppose the world could be a large sphere with molten stone at the center, rotating on its axis around the sun and therefore generating gravitic force. Galahad- No! What a stupid idea. The world is carried in a sack over the shoulder of a wandering old man. Percival- But that would mean that he is inside the sack he carries on his own back, Galahad. Galahad- Yes, obviously. Bors- That reminds me of the time I opened a box with the crowbar that was inside it. Percival- Here, that's physically impossible. Bors- No, but it was rather difficult. Percival- I should say so. How did you manage it? Galahad- Nevermind that, Percival. Bors is not often an honest person. Bors- Yes, I am! Galahad- No you're not, you just told a lie. Bors- No I didn't! I really opened a box with theGalahad- No, not that. The one where you said you were an honest person, that was a lie.
Bors- No it wasn't! Galahad- See? You did it again. Percival- Pardon me, Galahad, but what is that? Galahad- I didn't see anything. Bors- I saw it, Percival. Galahad- No you didn't, Bors. Just shut up. Bors- But I saw a flaming pie! Percival- I say, that's what I saw! Maybe he's more of an honest person than you say, Galahad! Galahad- No. Bors- Why do you hate me so, brother Galahad? Galahad- Because I am Galahad the pure. Bors- Pure? You're an illegitimate child! Galahad- That has nothing to do with the price of tea in China. Percival- We weren't talking about the price of tea in China. Galahad- Yes we were. The current level of inflation on green tea is really outrageous. Bors- Yes, I know, it has been crippling the peasantry rather harshly. Percival- Come to think of it, are we sure this is a cliff wall? Bors- What else could it be? Galahad(as camera zooms out to reveal the Great Wall of China)- The Great Wall of China! Percival- Hang on, hang on. If we started in England, flying in a northerly direction, how did we wind up in China? Bors- The compass was broken. Percival- Oh, I see. Galahad- Tell me, friends. Is it possible to forget how to fly? Bors- I don't believe so. It must be rather like riding a bicycle. Percival- What, pray tell, is a bicycle? Bors- I don't know, it won't be discovered for another thousand years or so. Percival- All right. Galahad- If it is not possible to forget how to fly, why is it that we are falling? Bors- I would blame it on the conservative media. Everything is their fault. Galahad- Oh, good. The conservative media is bringing us down. (they strike the ground) Percival- Um, excuse, me, but aren't we conservatives? After all, we are knights. I would consider that a kind of traditionalist stereotype. Bors- Oh yes, we are. Blame it on the LIBERAL media, then. Galahad- Curse the liberal media!
Percival- After further consideration, do not both wings of a bird lend it flight? Is not, then, one no better than the other in terms of responsible journalism? Bors- That does sound reasonable. You are, of course, most correct. There is none blameless amongst the media elite, and I hereby declare holy war against them in the name of England. Arthur would have it no other way. Curse the media in general! Narrator- And so it came to pass that Galahad and company cursed the media in general, and it has never recovered. Now we shall return to Arthur, Chaucer, and their companions.
Who Are You (The Who) Arthur- Chaucer? Chaucer- I apologize, my dear monarch, but I am busy. Arthur- I know you are, and it pains me to interrupt your studies, but can you certify to me the reality or otherwise of dragons? Chaucer- Oh, yes. Dragons do not exist. They are merely a projection of humanity's fears onto a medium of mythological creation. Arthur- Do they know that? Chaucer- I should believe so. Arthur- Good, then that one over there won't bother us. Chaucer- No, I expect it shall not. MSG- What if it tries to eat us? Arthur (jumps)- How did you get back here? MSG- I dug a hole. Arthur- Oh, good. Now what was it you were saying? MSG- Shouldn't you say 'thou wert' or something? Arthur- Oh, probably. I just keep falling out of character. Let's try it again, shall we? MSG- Most certainly. Arthur- All right. (clears throat) What was it that thou wert speaking unto my glorious personage, thou lowly peasant? MSG- Too much, Arthur, too much. And I'm a knight, remember? You knighted me. Arthur- Did I? MSG- Yes, you did. Arthur- What was your name again? MSG- Again? I never told you to begin with. I've just been referred to as the making sorrow guy the whole time. Arthur- Did that not become tedious? MSG- Yes, so some of the lads just started calling me MSG. Arthur- Sir Monosodium Glutamate? That could be construed as insulting. MSG (shrugs)- Whether I am a knight or an additive, I am your servant just the same. Arthur- I shall always love you for your loyalty.
MSG- Please don't. Arthur- Very well, then. So that I must not any longer refer to you as the making sorrow guy, what is your name, sir knight? MSG- I can't remember, I daresay it has slipped my immediate memory. Arthur- Oh. Really? MSG- Yes. Arthur- Then I shall call you Lancelot! MSG/Lancelot- Why? Arthur- Er... well... do you enjoy jousting? MSG/Lancelot- Not in particular. I don't care for blood sports. Arthur- And yet you are a knight in my service? MSG/Lancelot- Of course. Arthur- Right. Lancelot it is then. Now, what was it you were saying? Lancelot- I can't remember that, either. Curse my attention deficit disorder... Arthur- Well, tell me as soon as it returns to your mind. Effigy Guy- Uh, Arthur? Arthur- Yes? Effigy Guy- You never asked MY name, either. Arthur- What, you too? Effigy Guy- Yes, sir. Arthur- Oh, I am sorry, sir. What is your name? Effigy Guy- Robin, sir. I figured that as long as we were resolving the issue of forgotten names, I had better get this taken care of. Arthur- Excellent. Sir... Robin. Lancelot- Oh, I remember! I was wondering whether the dragon, illusionary or not, would have any inclination to eat us? Arthur- Oh, that is a valid question. Chaucer? Chaucer- What is it now? Arthur- Whether or not the dragon possesses reality, would it care to eat us? Chaucer- Yes, it most likely would. Arthur- Should we run, then? Chaucer- Yes, we should. (They run away from the dragon. There is an amusing chase sequence, in which they succeed in evading the overlarge reptile, which flies off, its takeoff causing a landslide which traps Arthur at the bottom.) Arthur- Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide... No escape from reality... Open your eyes! Look up to the skies and see! I'm just a poor boyLancelot (from the top of the landslide)- In actuality, you're a king. You have more gold than you know
what to do with. But I understand your plight. Arthur- Shut up. I need no sympathy. Lancelot- Why not? Arthur- Because I'm easy come, easy go. Robin- Little high, little low? Arthur- No! Lancelot- Well, quite a storm is brewing. If you don't want to drown, you'd better stop talking and start moving rocks. Arthur- Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me.
Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen) Narrator- Since we have exhausted all our budget on the rather expensive dragon sequence you have just witnessed, we shall return to Galahad, Bors, and Percival while Arthur and his companions clear away Arthur's stony prison. Galahad- Now we are in China, what quest shall we seek? Percival- Tell me Galahad, why is it that you are always the first to speak in any scene that concerns our company? Galahad- Because I am the leader of this group. Bors- That doesn't mean that you should always be the focus of the scene. We want equal treatment. Galahad- You're beginning to sound like those Frenchmen that were whining about a union. Percival- All we ask is that we not be overshadowed. Bors- Yes, I couldn't bear it if I were ever overshadowed. Galahad- All right, in the next scene which centers on our involvement, one of you may speak the first line. Percival- Excellent! I shall prepare a line with which to open the scene at once. Bors- Excuse me? Who made you the master of these things? Percival- Galahad did. Bors- No, he didn't! He just said one of us could do it. Percival- Yes, which meant me, because you are so rarely an honest person. Bors- I have had enough of this trying stereotyping of my person as a dishonest one! Galahad- It is true that you're not oftenBors- Don't say it, you bastion of an outdated and archaic system! (draws sword) I will be the one who speaks the first line of our next scene! Any who oppose me shall taste the tang of cold steel! Percival- You dare threaten me? It is unavoidable that I should best you in battle! (draws sword) Galahad- Now, let's not be hasty... (Bors and Percival each strike off one of Galahad's arms) Galahad- Oh, that is just wonderful. Absolutely lovely. Unbearably lovely. Really mature, you two. Percival- Bors, we have met the enemy, and he is us!
Bors- Actually, he's him. Percival- That too. It is lucky for us that we have disarmed the enemy. Bors- Ought we also to strike him down? Galahad- Here, you wouldn't kill an unarmed man, would you? Percival- Perhaps we should, especially after that vile pun. Galahad- Look, your temper is getting the best of you, and you said the first vile pun! Get thee to a punnery. Bors- Yes, I'd say we should. His puns are getting worse. Galahad (suddenly wearing glasses)- You wouldn't hit a man with glasses, would you? Percival- In any typical situation, no. However, there are extenuating circumstances: A. We have never before witnessed you requiring spectacles to aid your eyesight. B. Glasses have not actually been invented yet. C. That gag is a tired one that has been overused to the point of death. D. It constitutes a visual pun that is even worse than the verbal ones you tortured us with a moment ago. E. We weren't actually going to hit you. Galahad- Oh, good. Percival- Yes, we have swords, edged weapons as opposed to such blunt objects as fists. We have no need to hit you. Emperor- Stop! Bors- Who are you? Emperor- I am the Emperor of China. Percival- How did you come to speak English? Emperor- That does not matter. Galahad (whose arms have suddenly reattached themselves)- Yes, it does. Emperor- Weren't your arms off a moment ago? Galahad- Yes. Emperor- Oh. Good. Uh, I would appreciate it if you would restrain yourselves from killing your companion. Bors- Why? Emperor- Because this is China, which is an Oriental nation, and the Orient is famed for its politeness. And it really is not polite to kill your friend. Not to mention that if you did kill him, you would be defiling the earth of China with the blood of a foreigner, and then I would have to kill you, and every time I kill someone I have to bathe for hours before I feel polite again. Galahad- Emperor, sir? Emperor- Yes? Galahad- Why is it that if you are a Chinese Emperor, you are being portrayed by an actor of Japanese descent? Emperor- That is inconsequential. Galahad- And sir? Emperor- Yes? Galahad- Which Emperor are you? Emperor- Oh, that's a good question. Let's see, what year is this?
Galahad- 932 AD, by the reckoning of the Christians. Emperor- Oh, dear, that means we're smack in the middle of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period... So that means that I'm Li Siyuan, of the Later Tang dynasty. However, it won't be long before I'm betrayed by my own son-in-law who will set up the Later Jin dynasty. Galahad- I'm sorry. Emperor- Don't be, it's not uncommon. But that's beside the point. Bors- Where is the point? Emperor- Go ask Euclid, maybe he'd be able to explain. Bors- Why are we talking about this? Emperor- This entire film is an exercise in the delicate art of non-sequitur. Bors- If a monkey had a bug in one hand and a vine in the other, why does it look like the Communist party? Emperor- Keep working on it. Many of the best non-sequiturists were as bad as you are now before they got where they are today. Bors- Where's that? Emperor- Wisconsin. Narrator- And so, Galahad and his compatriots, now pacified and no longer attempting to end his life, began the harrowing trek to the far away land of Wisconsin. Arthur, Chaucer, Lancelot, Robin, and the little old manLOM- Fool! Narrator- -who were engaged in trying to free Arthur from a great landslide full of rocks, were close to pulling Arthur out. Lancelot- One last heave and we'll be home free! Arthur- What does that mean? Lancelot- It means we'll be able to go home, freely, without paying any taxes of any sort. Arthur- Oh. Does that have any relation to me having a great lot of rocks on my head? Lancelot- I don't believe so. (They pull Arthur out) Arthur- And also, how can we go home? We haven't found the grail yet. Chaucer- I don't believe it exists. (Chaucer is struck by lightning and turns into a small pile of ashes) Arthur- Oh, bugger. Does anyone have an urn, or something? (Robin hands him an urn, which Arthur places Chaucer's mortal remains in) Robin- That was a rash and foolish remark. Arthur- Oh, don't worry, he'll probably come back to life at some point or other. Look, do youLancelot- Dost thou, sir. Arthur- Dost thou what? Lancelot- Not do you. Dost thou. It's much more medieval.
Arthur- Oh, yes, thank you, dost thou seeLancelot- Behold, sir. Arthur- Yes, thank you, dost thou behold thatLancelot- Yon, sir. Arthur- Yes, thank you, dost thou behold yon mysterious forest? I suspectLancelot- Methinks, sir. Arthur- Yes, thank you, dost thou behold yon mysterious forest? Methinks it holdsLancelot- Doth contain, sir. Arthur- Yes, thank you, dost thou behold yon mysterious forest? Methinks it doth contain good chanceLancelot- Great opportunity, sir. Arthur- Yes, thank you, dost thou behold yon mysterious forest? Methinks it doth contain great opportunity for adventures and such. Robin- Dare we venture in, sir? It looksLancelot- Looketh. Robin- Yes, thank you, it looketh rather darkLancelot- Dank. Robin- Yes, thank you, it looketh rather dank and dangerous. Lancelot- Perilous. Robin- Yes, thank you, it looketh rather dank and perilous. Indeed, it quite reeks of peril. Arthur- Though it be fearsome, we shall fear no monstrosities. We shall bravelyLancelot- Courageously, sir. Arthur- Yes, thank you, we shall courageously confront any obstacles we come upon. Robin- What if there's a griffin? Arthur- What is a griffin? Robin- You don't know what a griffin is? Arthur- No, in very deed, I do not. Robin- Everyone knows what a griffin is. Arthur- Undoubtedly, and even so, I do not. Robin- You honestly are unaware of the fearsome beast called the griffin? Arthur- Yes, I am sadly ignorant. What is it? Robin- You can't possibly be serious. Arthur- In spite of the impossibility of my lack of knowledge, I lack it. Enlighten me. Robin- You really don't know what a griffin is? Arthur- No, I don't. Please expound upon said creature. Robin- Well, sir, a griffin has-
Lancelot- Possesses. Robin- Yes, thank you, a griffin possesses the body of a lion, the head and wings of an eagle, and the tail of a serpent. It is a clever and vicious warrior animal. Arthur- Oh, I see. I thought those were called keythongs. Robin- No, that is the term for the male griffin, which hasLancelot- Possesses. Robin- Yes, thank you, which possesses no wings, but rather golden spikes and rays extending from his body and two long, straight horns. Both are extremely terrible. Arthur- The horns? Robin- No, the griffins and the keythongs. Although the horns are also extreme in their terribility. Arthur- Well, if we should meetLancelot- Encounter, sir. Arthur- Yes, thank you, if we should encounter either a griffin or a keythong, we shall slay it or run away screaming, depending on the shut up Lancelot situation. Robin- That sounds like a plan. Lancelot- So, we're going to charge madly into the forest and pray that we're not attacked? Arthur- Precisely. Lancelot- And if we are attacked, we'll kill whatever's attacking? Arthur- Unless it kills one of us. Lancelot- And then those remaining alive would run away squealing? Arthur- Screaming. No knight of MY slightly round table will squeal. Lancelot- And that's your plan? Arthur- Yes. Lancelot- If you're waiting for me to say I like it, you shall be waiting until some the writers of this screenplay abandon their work and allow it to be completed by the Wayans brothers. Arthur- Very well. Robin- Then let us go. Arthur- I'm not detaining you. You're free to go as you please. Robin- I meant let us go into the forest. Arthur- You're free to go into the forest if you wish. It's a free country. Lancelot- Actually, it's medieval England. It's a monarchy, and therefore it is only free if you make it so. Arthur- I do. Robin- Aren't we all going into the forest? Arthur- Yes, but I'm not going first, in case there is a griffin or a keythong or such. Lancelot- My lord, I never would have expected you to turn chicken. Arthur- I am no such poultry. I am a king, in the line of Brutus of Troy, later called Brutus of Britain!
Lancelot- I was not suggesting you were anything other than a king. I was, however, implying that you are being rather cowardly. Arthur- You bet your sweet aunt Fanny I am. There could be flesh-rending beasts in there. Lancelot- I haven't got an aunt Fanny. Arthur- Well, get one. Lancelot- Even if I had an aunt Fanny, I wouldn't bet her. Arthur- Oh, tish-tosh, why not? It's a sure bet. I am being cowardly. Lancelot- It is not a matter of whether or not I win the bet. It is the fact that to bet my aunt Fanny, if I had one, would be dealing in slavery, which is against my morals. Arthur- A morel is a kind of mushroom. If you have morels, you must have extremely poor hygiene. Lancelot- Naturally. It's medieval England. We believe that hygiene is unhygienic. We don't take baths, because we think we'll catch cold and die. Wet the head, dead in bed, and all that. Arthur- Don't just stand there and quote silly verses at me, get in that forest! Lancelot- Actually, I think Robin should go first. Robin- What? You were just haranguing Arthur for being a coward! Lancelot- And now I realize that I was wrong to do so. I was clearly out of line. Robin- I'm not going first. That's possibly suicide. Lancelot- No it's not. We're making you go first. Consider it homicide. Arthur- Stop! What about the little old man? LOM- Fool! Robin- You can't send him in there to die! E's my grandfather! Arthur- All right. I have the solution. Lancelot- We don't need a solution, we need someone expendable. Arthur- That's what I meant. We shall walk to the edge or fringe of the forest, and throw in the urn with Chaucer's ashes. Robin- Brilliant! Arthur- Thank you. Notice how I kept my head in the face of certain death. Lancelot- Unlike Chaucer. Robin- It's not certain death that worries me, it's uncertain death. Or even uncertain maiming. Arthur- Then you shall have nothing to fear. Robin- Why not? Arthur- Because all the death we shall face is quite certain. As well as the maiming, that's certain too. Robin- I thank you for your comfort, sir. Lancelot- All right, now the question is who shall perform the tossing? Robin- Is that a perilous activity? Lancelot- That's a good question. What would you say, sir? Arthur- Undoubtedly.
Robin- Then I exclude myself from the pool of those being chosen for the act of tossing.