Richard Day's picture






    The King of the Hundred Knights was bamboozled.

    What is he to do now?

    King Arthur and his successor were pursuing him without hesitance; supplies for his army were drying up; some of his knights were withdrawing from his army without even declaring their new-found allegiances directly to him; his sons were being mocked in public; his spouse the Lady Ann was being eschewed by the female aristocracy supposedly part and parcel of his liege; and learned monks (as well as not so learned monks) were already writing of his demise.

    How the Celtic oracles could predict The Mitt's demise by some Saracen was beyond him.

    But this Saracen with no papers of noble blood who had succeeded Arthur; the grandest Dux Bellorum of all times with few battles but a producer of many thousands of jobs for the peasantry; was succeeding throughout Britain and there was nothing that KOHK could do about it!

    This Saracen without noble blood was the cause of so much blood-letting.

    This Saracen reputed to be of ignoble faith and provenance was beating the noble.

    This Saracen who purported that he was of the peasantry was beating the noble.

    This Saracen who promoted the peasantry over the aristocracy was beating the noble.

    I mean, what good is it to be of noble blood anymore?

    Thousands of The Mitt's soldiers lay piled on the battlefields over the past 18 months.

    Holidays had come and gone; great feast days had expired;

    The KOHK read from an ancient booke signed by some Friar Winston:


    Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail.

    We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France,
    we shall fight on the seas and oceans,
    we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be,
    we shall fight on the beaches,
    we shall fight on the landing grounds,
    we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
    we shall fight in the hills;
    we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old.”



    The Great Lord of the Hundred Knights also known through heredity as the Lord of Romnes found himself between the Great Arthur and a hard place.

    Northumberland was the center of The Mitt's Power.

    Mitt's great father, George the Bastard (also known as the Mormon King—coming from some small province on the West Coast of France where knights had once wore horns and bore red hair) had been held in high esteem for decades before his death at the hand of the Rose King.

    Oh, The King of The Hundred Knights was also known as The Mitt due to the mantle he wore on his left hand.

    That is why he who must be obeyed was also known as The Sinister (Sinistra being the Latin term for lefties.)

    Harken to those old days when all the great men had several names or monikers. After all, there was no TV, no IPOD, no telephone and no printing press.

    So the peasants just sat around all day between plantings and harvestings and gave the people of power special names.(when they were not involved in husbandry. I mean in those days you had to produce at least 15 children as a couple because only three or four would survive to the age where you could get some plantings and harvestings out of them) Do you have any idea how much a hand written book went for on E-Bay in those days?

    Handwriting monks were not that cheap!

    (The King of the Hundred Knights (KOHK) was also known as the keeper of the secret under- garments but we really do not have the time to get behind the reasons for that moniker for chrissakes!)

    Of the Hundred Knights, there were the lesser and the greater.

    They all owed their fealty to THE HUNDRED also known as the REPUB LEAGUE because the peasantry had such a problem pronouncing THE HUNDRED. It is all very complicated and we have not the funds to employ a proper linguist.

    Let's just say that THE UN-DREAD was not the proper moniker that could sell, if you know what I mean!

    Anyway back to the greater knights.

    There was Sir Sachs of the Goldmen.

    Sir Sachs was the Crassus of the Triumvirate that controlled the repubs—Sachs had all the Gold.

    There was The Fox of the Murdochs and he distributed the messages necessary to keep control of the peasantry as well as the unread knights.

    And finally there was The Rove Knight.

    Nobody really knew where he came from, he was very tight lipped and when he did speak, he did so only behind closed doors of manors and castles.

    Sir Sachs might have have been the King of Gold but Rove collected vast more amounts through some double accounting methods and also had a knack for distributing false truths to the masses with that money.

    The Mitt never really understood how the Repubs operated but he became their leader for a time anyway.

    We shall return to the subject of nomens at a later time.

    I mean this is just not gonna work without car crashes and meteor crashes and stock crashes and such.


    The Saracen controlled Cornwall and Wales and the West Midlands and was headed East.

    There were a hundred thousand troops waiting to hear from their leader on the battlefield of Norfolk:

    We have been chosen by the God Almighty to face the Saracen Menace.

    He would have you believe that the 99% should have a voice in our affairs.

    He would have you believe that the servers and the cooks and the chicken breeders and the anvil hammerers and the farmers and the millers and the left wing radio charlatans control or should control everything!

    (Members of the 6th Kohk regiment looked at each other—Emmett their left-tenant looked at his colonel and noted that he had no idea what a radio charlatan was!)

    The peasantry would have you believe that us one-percenters should not have all the capital, should not have all the lands, should not have all the fiefs, should not have all the lieges, should not have all the wines.

    What the hell is this nation coming to?

    Do you realize that 47% of all the peasantry do not even pay taxes anymore?

    Do you realize that 47% of all the peasantry do not properly deliver fowl to our kitchens on time anymore?

    Do you realize that 47% of all the peasantry do not have proper papers to demonstrate their citizenship?

    Do you realize that James Carville has no hair on his head and yet keeps an aristocrat in his bed?

    (Just then Sir Newt of the 7th regiment turned to his Left-tenant and noted that a wedded bed can always be changed!)

    Do you realize that this Saracen cares more for the polar icecaps than for our people?

    Jesus Christ and his Latter Day Saints shall save us from the Anti-Christ (and I only capitalize Anti for liturgical effect) only if you stand by the basic beliefs of our Anglican Faith!

    Just then, 1/3 of all of the KOHK's troops headed for the hills (they would have headed for the mountains but there really are no mountains in England unless you buy this crap from Hugh Grant.)

    The end of Chapter One!




    Really cool satire. I enjoyed it. I hope you posted on paradigm.

    Oh hi Momoe.

    I am having probs over at Paradigm.

    I complete my post and 'save' and it loops...

    I shall try again next week.

    It aint takin my stuff!

    I noticed the dash board has been a little squirrelly on some blogs. Drop them a email and tell them what is happening on your account.

    Hugh Grant's movie took place in Wales (where there are taller mountains than the Garth Hill/Mountain from the movie - Ffynnon Garw Mountain )

    England has a bunch of higher mountains in the lake district & elsewhere -

    Oh alrighty then!

    Molehills out of mountains!



    Yeah, yeah, yeah, your story was great, Mr. Day, but is Tom Petty a rock god or whot?


    Nothing petty about PETTY!


    I believe Sir Sachs had a son, you know. Did pretty well for himself. Helluva name though. "Scrotal." "Scrotal Sachs." Must be Latin.

    See also: Sassenach. 

    And I have no further comment on RuPaul Mare-dick.



    Just look at the sachs on that one! He said from the closet.

    Latest Comments