Jousting Class

Monsday, Janoary 9th, Year of the Field Mouse

Today’s our first real day of lessons in knighthood, with last week being mostly Squirehood 101 and sums. But why worry? Such trifles will be taken care of by my loyal servant and squire Jim, affectionately known as Jimbo. Who better to clean up when me horsie poo poos and count me treasure (confiscated in the name of knighthood from slain beasties)? So…it’s seems that it’ll be “Introductory Jousting” today taught by Sir Percival the Fat, named after the famous Knight of the Round Table. Haha. He should have been named Sir Pork Barrel, Knight of the Buffet Table. Haha. Fat Git. Well, this’ll be right up my alley. No, Jimbo. The jousting, not the pork barrel part. Yes, I’m sure. I’m big-boned. And handsome, nonetheless. Look at him. He’s got a booger in his moustache. No, I’m sure it’s not a turkey chunk from his lunch. It might be… Okay. Whatever it was, he just ate it. One wonders—however is he going to get on his horsie eh, Jimbo? Hahaha. Er, no sir, I didn’t say anything. Me? Demonstrate how to mount a horse? Why, Sir Pork..er..cival, you do me great honor. However, I would not be at all comfortable embarrassing the rest of the class, what with my skill in horsemanship and all. No, no, sir. Horsemanship. Not horse shit. Yes, sir. I do know the difference. No difference when it comes to me, you say, sir? Ah well, all right, if you insist, good sir. It’s simple. All one has to do is to slip one’s foot into the stirrup like so and…alley oop! Thank you, thank you. Don’t have to be so stunned by my brilliance. No need to applaud. Though you really should. Just a little. Jimbo! Are you laughing at me? Stop that. Not you too, Sir Perkival. The rest of you too? What manner of witchery has caused all of you to turn against, me, your best and brightest? Wot? Wot’s this? Me horsie’s got no head! Great dragon balls of fire! This is the work of an evil sorcerer! It’s got to be one of the girly boys from Hogfarts! Show yourself, conjurer of the black arts, and you shall taste justice from my wooden blade! Wot’s that, Jimbo? Behind me? It’s at times like these I need a brave squire, Jimbo, not a pointing lunatic. It’s witchcraft, not the Macarena. Okay, okay, I’ll look. Wot devilry! Why is me horsie’s head on it’s rump? God Almighty! Woah, horsie. Stay calm. Well I guess I’d be kinda freaked out (and a little pissed off) too if I found my head on my arse. Stay calm, sta…woah…woah…WOAH! Ooooof! For the love of God, I can’t feel me legs! My head! It feels the size of a watermelon! Everything…going…dark…at least…horsie’s…got head and arse back in place…And is that Harry Farter from Fagtarts hiding in the brush?…could have sworn…it was him…stop…laughing…get…him…witchery…