The King's view on Bors

The people seem to forget, that being a king is not just riding around in pretty new clothes and repressing the commoners. There's far more to it than that. A king must be able to take on any challenge and out wit his opponents. Occasionally that means facing a deadly black knight in combat, or knowing where to purchase the best shrubbery, or even recognizing when it is an appropriate time to run away. A king must always be prepared for any situation.
Therefore I was a little surprised when my men questioned my decision to employ our newest knight. His name is Bors, and while he seems to be less of a fighter than Robin, and not as comfortable around the ladies as Lancelot... he has a fantastic skill at hunting wabbits...err.... rabbits and other rodents. I'm sure that sometime soon he will prove his weight in gold. At that point,  I'm sure, my men will apologize for ever doubting me.

Bors SMASH!!

Though I have come to comprehend and accept the magnanimous decision of our hallowed monarch to consign my pulchritudinous and conscientious spouse, my ambrosial progeny, and myself to this island Bastille, I do considerate a more familial confinement.  The menagerie of fauna here is quite queer to minimize the verbiage.  Here dwell titanic rabbits with short ears that traverse about in leaps upon elongated hind paws, minuscule bears that consist of more proboscis than anything else, beavers inured with duckbills, and these over sized rodents I swear come from the depths of Hell itself.  The most unsettling however, is this breed of dog the indigenous inhabitants call . . . That . . . CALL . . . THAT . . . 
DINGO EAT BORS BABY!    BORS WANT TAKE ARTHUR HEAD  SMASH  PATSY COCONUTS WITH  SKULL! . . . 
Sorry!  Ever so sorry.  I become a scant  bit agitated at times, especially when I reminisce about the egregious inducements for which I was dispatched to this infernal atoll.  I really was not trying to drown Bedevere's resplendent female sibling as a witch; I simply mistook her for the Lady of the Lake, and thought she would luxuriate better in her innate habitat.  There is also significant defense for my actions that one winter when Guano Knickers Robin let that wretCHED minSTREL wail ON . . . and ON . . . and . . . AND . . .
BORS HUNGRY . . .  BORS TAKE LUTE  SMASH . . . 
Crikey . . . slipped again . . . sorry.  Well one can hardly admonish me for the ire, since there was an significant absence of admonishment when the cannibalistic activities occurred.  I even recall a smidgen, or more, of rejoicing.
Anyway, with much introspection I have matriculated to keep serene, for the most part, and I am looking forward to returning to King Arthur's service in rectitude and a calmer demeanor.  I am also anticipating reuniting with my brother who garners his wages as a sentinel at Swamp Castle.  He could always illicit a better mood from me, that would make me more reluctant to . . . smash . . .    

The following is to be read with an outrageous French accent.

For quite some time it has been very, very, quiet here on the Western front but recently we have seen a massive increase in English pig-dog activity. In the last two weeks alone I have single handedly led the successful taunting of an English army three times.  There is no way of knowing how much longer these silly sons of window dressers will force me to shower them with insults and barnyard animals. So long as they continue to infringe upon my God given right to eat bad cheese and bed hairy arm pitted women I shall stand my ground and continue to wave my private parts at their most cherished family members. On the bright side of things we have recently acquired some large and expensive arte! We were sad to see that it did not contain any chocolate but that did not prevent us from proclaiming it a national treasure and over-inflating its value.

Vive La France! 

Volare me artemon

I am appalled at this trend of pisces ferientes (fish schlapping).  It is not that I am opposed to the practice of inflicting pain; however, pain should only be practiced as a reminder that tartis animi, corpris infirma (our spirits are stronger than our bodies).  Blessed pain should not be used for lustful expressions, especially sui ferientes (self schlapping).  Then there is the issue of the instruments of this miss-used pain; unclean creatures from the sea that swim in their own excrement. That is immoral, unsanitary, improper, and just plain foedus.

God speed our king on his quest for our most holy of relics, so when he returns he can despence some knights to set this bad Finnish influence straight.

As always I leave you with this prayer;
Custodi me Deus, et da mihi sapientiam et ductu ad viam vitae, et ambalat in uiribus ac uirtute.

Brother Ratus Tabula

Unrequited love

Dear Diary,
     Today I saw him again. Lancelot. So big and strong and hot. I wonder if he even notices me. Oh how he takes my breath away! I try to get his attention by singing and dancing but, to no avail. I can't even get close to him because he's always surrounded by men, after all he is a knight, and I shouldn't take it so personally... But  there is a rumor floating among Camelot that he, my brave, courageous, perfectly handsome knight.... Bats for the other team :(
I don't want to give into these ridiculous rumors diary, at first I thought, well, is he truly gay, or just simply, European? You know diary, they bring their boys up different there.... It's culturally diverse. It's not uncommon if he wears a kilt or bears a purse. but, I cannot look past the signs, the times when he stares too long at the other men.... The pointed shoes, the perfectly coiffed hair... The waxed chest... And not to mention his incredible dance moves!
About three things I am absolutely positive: first, Lancelot is gay. second, there is a part of him - and I didn't know how dominant that part might be - that thirsts for the art of dance! and third, I am unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.
I will never love another. Nothing can cure this level of devastation. If I cannot be his I fear I shall live alone all the days of my life. Collecting cats and possibly, some shrubbery.

Pants Patsy!!

The conquest continues! As king it is important to remember the victories and learn from the defeats. We continue to sharpen our skills as the people of Camelot help us to prepare for our journey. We will be meeting with the nimble fingered seamstresses and costumers this week. This will surely help raise the spirits of our group. We had recently added a few humble prop pieces, including coconut halves. Patsy had loved those, & had insisted banging and clattering them together everywhere he goes. It will be good to see him dressed well as he trounces and bounces and... Oh for God's sake Patsy, please put on some pants!!!! Oh, I do hope the costumers hurry. No! I said pants, not dance!!!!

Kevin

I can't believe it. That lousy bleeder Robin gets me name wrong and now all the other carters are calling me Kevin.  I'm awful glad he off and went to Camelot with that Lancelot bloke. I know he's been cheating me. I is no man's fool. I can do me sums. So many dead bodies equals so many ninepence and I haven't been getting me share. The coward 's short changing me. I reckon he squirrels it away money for his "dressing up" and his dance lessons. Methinks I can do both our jobs without him.  Hauling the cart and the bodies is the hard part. I don't need 'im, I'll be better off.  Not having to share my part of the coin.  Robin? Him, a knight?  Pull the other one, it's got bells. Course the bells will just make him dance. If the fink doesn't run at the first sight of danger I'll give up carting for mud farming. More like he's going to end up me cart. I'll be pushing my cart outside the gates of Camelot and that chap Lancelot will drop his bloated corpse on the cart. When that day comes I'll be happy if they forgot to rummage through his trouser pockets before throwing him out.

Or better yet, what if I become a knight. But not one of 'em fancy prancy knights of "King" 'rthur, but a proper knight. I can do it. I could probably do it quite well. Pushing this cart around 'as given me a bit of might. Just need to teach meself to speak properly, maybe pick up a bitter of swordplay.  It occurs to me that I've been pushing this plague cart around and ain't even gotten a fever. Maybe I am invincible. Nothing can harm me. That's right. I must be invincible. I'll find me a sword and some armor and show that prat Robin what it means to be a knight. Maybe black armor. I always fancied wearing black. I bet I scare Robin witless. And then I'll scare everyone else and no one will ever call me Kevin again. I can see it now. Cor.

From a young (and excited) Finnish Man

Today is a special day. Today is a wondrous day. Today I declare my love for the most beautiful girl in all of Finland. Adonica!  I am going down to the fish market as soon as the boats arrive with the day's catch. I need to be there early to make sure I get the best selection. I've saved up my earnings for months. No mere carp or trout will suffice to show my love. I am going to get the biggest and most beautiful sturgeon at the market.  People tell me that it's not the size of the fish you slap with, it's your slapping technique, but I don't want Adonica to have any doubts about the depth of my feelings. To be doubly sure I've been practicing slapping myself when I'm alone.  I know a lot of people frown on self-slapping, but I know it has improved my technique.  My follow through has gotten so much better and it was surprisingly enjoyable. It was worth it. Today, when I slap Adonica across her face with that sturgeon she will know that I love her like no man has ever loved her before.  She'll know that she'll never want to be fish-slapped by another man in her life.  This is going to be the perfect!

King Arthur retreats to Castleford!!!

I have to admit that if we spent half as much time fighting, wenching, and looking for the grail as we do dancing and singing...then we would most definitely be far more successful.  At this rate I fear that my term as king may be quite short lived.  Infamous, no doubt, but unfortunately short lived!  Even my mightiest warrior, Lancelot, was seen prancing...PRANCING!!!!!!!  God help me.  Sometimes I envision a simpler life with my lady. Sitting near a lake, catching our supper,  and tilling the good dark earth.  Maybe she and I should run off to Castleford.  That sounds that a royal place.  Anything would be better than what Camelot is turning into.  All bright lights and big city.  I wonder how Patsy would feel hauling both she and I that far?

A terrifying show??

I have been informed that some fighting and violence is inevitable in our quest to put on a Twin Falls musical. There are rumors of a black knight, a killer rabbit, and the notorious knights who say ‘Ni.’ Combine all this with horseless horseback riding, obnoxious French taunters, and an angry Scotsman who [gasp] abhors singing, and you have one terrifying show indeed. I have even heard rumors that there is a corrupt little number that combines the violent act of fish slapping with the blissful act of singing and dancing. How corrupt and terrible must the director of this show be to combine such a wondrous thing as song and dance with such sickening violence? Some suspicious folks have informed me that no fish will be harmed in the production of this show, but I surely have my doubts.

-Brave Sir Robin

From the Diary of Herbert, the 1st King of the Swamp

Today I am saddened to report the passing of my beautiful wife Chava. She was a very special person. She was a different kind of person, a multi talented person. She was a person who needed people and regarded herself as one of the luckiest people in the world. Oh how she loved the swamp. Always saying things like “it could be worse, we could be wondering the desert.” Today she fell from the top of our tallest tower while singing and dancing at the same time. I fear that I have no time to grieve the loss of my lovely bride. We are in the midst the planning of a wedding that shall take place a mere ten weeks from now. I shall soldier on and, as we people of the swamp always have, build again. I shall begin anew and in the world that follows the passing of my beloved I swear before God all mighty that this kingdom shall never see a dance nor hear a song again. This is my vow and so shall it be. 

In regards to Soiling Armor

"And so the quest begins to find the quail! What’s that? We’re looking for a grail? I’d much rather spend my time singing and dancing with the cast of Spamalot. Thus far we have had some of the best dance instruction ever, and I am proud to announce that so far I have only soiled my armor once."

-Brave Sir Robin

A Monk's Journal Entry

Est Stupenda Spamalot    *Clunk*
Pisces Amicis Tunde          *Clunk*
Et Saltare Multus               *Clunk*
Vos Veni Et Videbis             *Clunk*


(Very) Loose Translation

Spamalot is Amazing
Friends Fish Slap
And Dance a lot.
Come and See

.....aaaand the church's position on the matter.

To whom it may appall,
I have noticed as of late that the once noble city of Camelot has become a proverbial Sodom and Gomorrah. Every where my brethren and I look we see the openly presented bosoms of women,  the gambling of gold pieces that could be spent well in the church, and profane, " neon" lighting  that I have a strange feeling has not actually been invented yet. In times like these we must turn to The Lord to combat the evils of sin and temptation. May God have mercy on our souls, our coin purses, and our appendages. Amen.

-Brother Maynard

A threat to the French Taunter from the King himself...Second only to GOD

It was a calm autumn evening, and I had gathered my knights around me, to sing of our triumphs and comradery  Our postures were straight and harmonies sharp. We were doing justice the King's Eng...errr, to my English, when a horrid, insulting, squalor appeared. These French, with their crude gestures, began hurling insults at us. I'm not sure what language they were speaking, nor do I know what they call their native tongue... But it can only be summed up (as vulgar as they are) in one word, French. I'm still uncertain what a Le Vache is, but they even launched a bovine at us! The director must be mad if he thinks to allow such insolence. If this continues I may have to use the holy hand grenade of Antioch on them.

A Blog from Above

I have waited until the end of a very eventful week to make myself know to you all….and to spread the word. The word is SPAMALOT and it is good!!! Proof of my existence presented itself at the FISCH SCHLAPPING SONG dance rehearsal on the evening of 11/07/13. A miracle happened in the form of Troy “T-Dawg” Cooper. Yea, I say verily unto you that the Dawg did indeed dance!!!!

Dance on Dawg, dance on!

Yours Truly,

GOD

From the depths of King Arthur's....er....soul?

"I'm all alone, all by myself" or at least I have been for the past two weeks. I am looking forward to joining the rest of the knights and my lady.  It appears as though the fun has been going on without me.  I shall join the cast tonight and begin my journey with them.  Hopefully they will help in carrying this heavy burden of being king.  I just hope that prior to opening we can either find a Jew, or a shrubbery!!

Director's note: We have a Jew. 

Black Knight Rant

What the hell!?!  First singing and now dancing? I don't care what people say, it won't make me a better fighter. I ALWAYS TRIUMPH!  Let's see how well they dance when I chop off their legs.  That will put an end to this prancing around. Then we can get back to real business, fighting. I've seen several opponents I would like to go toe to toe with instead of going heel to toe with.

Journal of Sir Bedeviere

I have begun a vigorous quest with Arthur, King of The Britains, and his gathered knights of the round table. Its no surprise that he is king, I find him a noble man, who's intelligence supper-cedes even my own. As for the knights, what a gallant group of men! I look forward to this quest for the grail, I find myself bonding and growing with this group. I look forward to the adventures, and experiences. that I'm are in store on this trek.

Temptation

It's difficult to be a nun in Camelot, it's a silly place. And
three words; "temptation, temptation, temptation!"

Dancing Nun

Bring Out Your Dead!

"Bring out your dead! I am in desperate need of more dead people this Halloween season. So far, the cast and crew of RAT’s production of Spamalot is everything but dead. They are in fact the liveliest group of people that I have ever had the chance to meet. So if you know any dead people or happen to have any lying about please give my buddy Lance a call and he will come and pick up the lot. Personally I don’t like dead people, even not quite dead people. They give me the willies. I’d much rather sing and dance with Lance and the rest of the knights of Arthur’s very, very, very round table in Camelot. Exactly what goes on in this wondrous place called Camelot I cannot say at the moment. For what happens in Camelot, stays in Camelot."

-Brave Sir Robin

From Patsy's journal

Dear Journal,

No one really knows how ‘ard it is, playin’ Piss boy to the “All Exhaulted, King o’ the Britons”. “Oh, Patsy!”, they say, “What ‘ave you to do, ‘cept bang away on your coconuts all day?” They don’t know ‘bout the constant ego stroking a man of his station requires! And exactly why do you think he ‘asn’t got shit all over ‘im? That’s right, dear ol’ Patsy, groomin’ an’ preenin’ away till I got shit all over me! Well, it could be worse. I could be a knight. A witless, buggering bunch, the lot of ‘em! Always look at the bright side, that’s what I always say.

Ms. Galahad's poetry prowess

'Ello there, Mrs-... Ms. Galahad here. I am thrilled to ba a part of this work. There are so many wonderful people (minus Arthur) involved in this project. In fact, this has me so excited that I have decided to share something with you; I call it "The Mud". It is an excerpt from a collection of lovely poems that I call "Ms. Galahad's Collection of Lovely Poems Written About Herself and also Mud". Here you are, and enjoy.

"The Mud"

The mud
Sticky
Ooey... Gooey
under my untrimmed finger nails.
Good piles here,
good piles there;
The product of the earth.
Something that one man can't own.
I will keep plopping
and moving
the freedom mud

A message from King Arthur

I have called forth my knights and trusted retainers to ensure that this journey is extraordinary! However, there seems to be a lot of singing, talk of dancing, and fraternization going on! On the verge of this, my most glorious quest, you'd think instead that they were all playing at a musical production! I shall rely heavily on the guidance of my sweet lady of the lake, and the sure spirit of my fine steed Patsy to see this through. Honestly I think the rest of these goofs, think they are going to end up on Broadway!  - King Arthur