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I was spending my holiday in Sherfordshire

  • I was spending my holiday in Sherfordshire Upon Mary Kay collecting errant knights when I became involved in this affair. It started when I unburied an errant knight named Sir Ris.

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  • Sir Ris had a slightly boney complection, but he looked smashing in his rusty suit of amour, having entertained many a lover in my tweed waterbed, his rough barnacly exterior

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  • yeilded him to a more rustic kind of lover. The women he played Lancelot with were all hearty milk maids. The armor rusted because they loved dumping milk over the tweed waterbed.

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  • Next morning, he couldn't move. "Last time I go to bed in full platemail." Making matters worse, his tweed waterbed had sprung a leak. "Milk maids? Lasses? where are you? A little

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  • consideration for a drowning knight!" To add to his miserableness, King Barfur walked in. "Dear me, Sir Pansylot, have you wet your sleeping sack?" "Um, just getting baptized, Your

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  • Barfiness." King Barfur's face turned green, even more than usual. Sir Pansylot sidestepped the mess. He only needed to be "baptized" once, thank you. A dry set of clothes was

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  • waiting ... a jester's costume? Oh well. It was better than being covered in King Barfur's barf. Albeit as soon as the jester's hat was atop his head, Sir Pansylot felt funny.

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  • He could sense the funny pulsing through his body like electricity. Suddenly, Sir Pansylot knew every knock knock joke that had ever been conceived. The jester hat had given him

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  • The keys to the kingdom provided he was not using the right password and not streaking. Sir Pansylot had a history of schizophrenia. He was under medication so Professor

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  • Mewling would get off his back about psychoanalysis. Thus sedated, Sir Pansylot lived the life of a sycophant, winning favor with the royalty. He died a rich, but stupid man.

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