Lancelot wandered into the chapel ruing his sins. He was depressed lately about how he had been conducting his life. He felt he worked so hard. He battled so hard. He quested so hard. That he DESERVED to love so hard.  He knew it was wrong. He was no philosopher and he never understood the intricacies of sin.

This was the chapel where he grew into a man.  At twelve he was almost six feet tall. He was stronger than all his classmates. And brighter than most. By thirteen he was a squire, apprenticed to Bors his uncle and gone from this place.  

Father Kevin was always there for him. A good priest. Never showed that kind of interest in the boys and was always faithful to his calling.  A good, down to earth priest. Could not recite the issues over the Pelageans, but he was up on the Testament.  The Book.  Right and Wrong.

There was a little line to the confessional today. As usual, mostly children. Adults did not practice this rite as much as they should. Lancelot knew because it had been a twelvemonth since he had gotten on his knees and admitted his sins. Why do the great have so many sins to confess anyway? Or is it just that more was expected of the great. He never asked to be great. It was something inside of him. He loved the chase. He loved the battle. He never knew before hand how things would come out. It was the bet. The odds.  And here he was, six hundred years before Aquinas and he never had to face the real self examination that would make all humans whoever thought of doing something disgusting on the same par with the King of the Hundred Knights.

Lancelot was thinking about all of this and then thought, maybe no confession today. The chapel was filled and he would be doing Father Kevin a favor and then...

NEXT

Oh well. Lancelot went into the confessor's stall.  Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been a twelfthmonth since my last confession, at least.

IS THAT YOU LANCELOT?

It appeared that Father Kevin had a hearing problem in his old age.  Lancelot began blushing.

Yes Father Kevin, he whispered.

GOOD GOOD. GLAD TO HEAR FROM YOU LANCE.  GO AHEAD!!!!

Lancelot, still red and shamed began. I have murdered twelve knights.  It was in battle mostly. A few in jousting. Some were contests, others were urged upon me by others.

Did you ever kill out of anger Lancelot?

No Father Kevin, never.

Then proceed, my son.

I have committed adultery fifty times in the last twelfthmonth. The lady is married to one who no longer feels his urge.

HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU COMMIT ADULTERY LANCELOT?

Fifty times.

Same woman, my son?

Yes Father Kevin.

Anything else my Son?

I cursed forty times that I recall Father.

Did you bless yourself my son?

Every time except once Father Kevin. Once I was in the midst of battle and as I disposed of one knight another came from behind.

Anything else my son?

Oh. Onanism. I played with the sacred object from time to time thinking of my beloved.

ONANISM. WHAT DID I TELL THEE LANCELOT WHENST THOU WERE A STUDENT HERE. SHAME SHAME SHAME. FOR YOUR CONFESSION SAY 12 DOZEN ROSARIES. THAT'S NOT RIGHT. RUNNING AROUND PLAYING WITH THE SACREDEST OF RELICS. YOUR OWN RELIC. THAT'S NOT RIGHT! NOW MAKE A GOOD ACT OF CONTRITION.

Jees, twelve rosaries, I will be here all day.

WHAT'S THAT LANCELOT?

Oh my god I am heartily sorry for having offended thee and I detest all........

With that Lancelot left the stall and decided to say his rosary as far from the chapel as possible.

Red as a beet he climbed onto ole Clementine his fine mare and rode out like the wind.

The moral of this story
The moral of this song
Is simply that one should
Never confess to one who
CANNOT HEAR THE SONG

And why is the confessor the priest? I mean I was the guy confessing. What the hell is that all about?

Meanwhile, we must look into what is happening with the Angles.

Fathead was still stuck in the southeast. Fighting all the Angles. He was so upset about the immigrants coming to take all the milkmaids and all the jobs.  Here we are with a new work program and he was sure that all the real jobs would go to the illegal Angles. Angleland. Why not just call it that?  Sure they are good a laying roads but they are just asshats. I am so sick of this argument and nobody seems to listen to me. Oh I curse the day I was born.   Oh woe is me, woe is me.

The Field Marshall appeared.  How is my favorite General?

Pqwptupqyq;zx;uph;jz;a;l;uty;luoujhg;ja[pufjgb Said Fathead. (Translated: Oh I am just fine, it is great not to be able to orally disgrace you you stupid son of bitch)

Good, good, good, Well we are here to discuss our next battle plan. As you know our successes are just abounding and just abounding and thanks to you they just keep abounding.

Pqpowiert034hjgyq;lahg';agh'appe0tuuuy[a[r[tutjkajadfjjadkjflkafj. Said Fathead. (Translated: like you ever had a plan in that thick skull of yours you goddamnable idiot.

Yes, yes, yes. Good response. I agree in toto. Really well said as usual. I just wonder about a new attack from the sea. We really do not have the type of ships that we will be noted for a thousand years from now, but what if we just attacked from the sea as we attacked from the north and the south and the west? It would be perfect.

Poqyr002yhodpqntr 8ie qppppi qe89t aagpp0ijlaohc/.zncnhtghilaz;?  Responded Fathead. (Translated: You stupid shithead. How in the hell would we get ships out there? Your head as usual is up your ass and I have had it with this entire fiasco. Not that you would even know what fiasco means you ass hat.)

Fine. Fine. Then we will proceed with this and I will need you and your troops up at the northern point. Come and see us tomorrow morning. And we will be ready to proceed against the infidels

Sir Dobbs was up early and rode with his troops to the point in the north prescribed in the plan.

The lieutenant spoke to the troops: Remember soldiers. The Angles are nothing but barbarians; they are terrorists. Oh every now and then one of them paints a pretty picture or writes a nice play but eventually, if they maintain a foothold here, they will be making fun of Italians and Celts and will attempt to take over the world.  We should begin to see some action south in about ten miles.
Be prepared. And remember we are fighting for the Red Toga.

The soldiers proceeded on the directed course chanting:

TOGA, TOGA, TOGA, TOGA, TOGA, TOGA, TOGA, TOGA TOGA

After an hour or so, the troops began to see the whites of the Angle's eyes.

There was a great tumult as the soldiers rushed the enemy.  The Roman Celts attacked with furor as the Angles threw rocks and attempted to assault them with spears. The RC   drove the savages back until they were driven into the southern contingency and finally the troops coming from the west.

When all of a sudden ten thousand Angles arrived from the sea. Within half an hour the RC were in retreat, running for their lives.

Geez, these guys are serious said the Lieutenant.

Dobbs was seriously wounded after being sent to the ground by an enemy spear.  Some say it was friendly spears that send him tumbling but an investigation later was inconclusive.

Sir Dobbs found himself as a prisoner of war, taken on a litter to an enemy pavilion.  As he lay on a makeshift bed, he thought pqpwoiehthqpoporthoqhtoqhthtoih.

Fathead had lost his right eye and his left forearm. He began to sing:


opwrotuouqt
t y uouwelkrljhH
(Translated)


All of me - why not take all of me
Can't you see - I'm no good without most of me

I lost my lips - I lost my voice
Take  my  arm - I'll never use them again

The fates have - left me with only one eye to cry
How can I - ever make it without them

(You know) You took my voice, my arm, my eye, my good looks
So why not - why not take all of me



He was most upset that he had not even been given the chance to apologize to Rush.