Cleric: And the Lord spake, saying, “First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then shalt thou count to three, no more–no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it.”
Brother Maynard: Amen.
All: Amen.
King Arthur: Right. One…two…five!
Galahad: Three, sir.
King Arthur: Three!

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French Knight: I unclog my nose in your direction, sons of a window dresser. So, you think you could outclever us french folks with your silly, knees-bent, running-about, advancing behavior? I wave my private parts at your aunties, you cheesy-leather, second-hand, electric donkey bottom biters.
King Arthur: In the name of the Lord, open this door!
French Knight: No chance english bed-wetting types. I burst my pimples at you and call your door-opening request a silly thing; you tiny brained wipers of other peoples’ bottoms.

King of Swamp Castle: This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Let’s not bicker and argue about who killed who.

King Arthur: Now stand aside worthy adversary.
Black Knight: ‘Tis but a scratch.
King Arthur: A scratch? Your arm’s off.
Black Knight: No it isn’t.
King Arthur: Well what’s that then?
Black Knight: I’ve had worse.

God: Every time I try to talk to someone it’s “sorry this” and “forgive me that” and “I’m not worthy”…

Arthur: On second thought , let’s not go to Camelot. ‘Tis a silly place.