It was a futuristic Camelot. He was her

It was a futuristic Camelot. He was her Arthur and she was his Gwenivere. He'd read the book, so when Lancelot arrived, Arthur shot him in the dome with a .38 and planted a knife

into his back, shouting wildly, "That'll show you! No one double-crosses King Arthur, beeyotch!" He had circumvented the future, preventing Lancelot's tryst with Gwenivere, but

then he saw the crowd, wearing clothes from 2010. The camera's flashing. He remembered. He was a broke actor. This was Medieval Times, a theme restaurant in Anaheim. Police

officers loved to unwind at Medieval Times after a hard day issuing parking tickets. Their favorite activity was throwing turkey legs at the "wenches" who wore low cut serf's rags

that hadn't been washed in god knows how long. Throwing turkey legs at them was an effective way to drive the stank hos off. Still, they

persisted. They were attracted to his rank underwear. He fished in his pocket looking for something to keep them at bay. The novelty condom? No, ah.. the panties from his last date

with Jane. He hung th panties under the rocking chair. then he got a big slice of watermelon, sat in the rocker and started to rock and eat. Perfect it kept the flies off his food.

The chair became a sort of shrine in the neighbor hood. People would come from blocks away to sit and rock for a bit. They said it brought them peace. Soon the legend spread and

wasn't the pizza delivery, it was Digiorno.