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Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help, help, I'm being repressed! Well, she turned me into a newt. Bloody Peasant! The nose? We found them.

The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. That is why I am your king. Did you dress her up like this?

We shall say 'Ni' again to you, if you do not appease us. What do you mean? Found them? In Mercia?! The coconut's tropical! Ni! Ni! Ni! Ni! You can't expect to wield supreme power just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!

It's only a model. Found them? In Mercia?! The coconut's tropical! And the hat. She's a witch! Listen. Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony. Who's that then? The swallow may fly south with the sun, and the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land. Well, I got better. Well, I got better.

Burn her anyway! You can't expect to wield supreme power just 'cause some watery tart threw a sword at you! On second thoughts, let's not go there. It is a silly place. And this isn't my nose. This is a false one. Shut up! Be quiet! You don't vote for kings. You don't frighten us, English pig-dogs! Go and boil your bottoms, sons of a silly person! I blow my nose at you, so-called Ah-thoor Keeng, you and all your silly English K-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-niggits!

Bloody Peasant! Why do you think that she is a witch? The nose? Shut up! Will you shut up?! Found them? In Mercia?! The coconut's tropical!

The swallow may fly south with the sun, and the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land. Who's that then? I dunno. Must be a king. The swallow may fly south with the sun, and the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land.

Well, she turned me into a newt. We shall say 'Ni' again to you, if you do not appease us. We shall say 'Ni' again to you, if you do not appease us. Bloody Peasant!

She looks like one. Well, we did do the nose. How do you know she is a witch? No, no, no! Yes, yes. A bit. But she's got a wart.

We want a shrubbery!! Look, my liege! A newt? Knights of Ni, we are but simple travelers who seek the enchanter who lives beyond these woods.

I dunno. Must be a king. Shut up! Why? Well, we did do the nose. It's only a model.

The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. That is why I am your king. A newt?

How do you know she is a witch? You don't frighten us, English pig-dogs! Go and boil your bottoms, sons of a silly person! I blow my nose at you, so-called Ah-thoor Keeng, you and all your silly English K-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-niggits!