Armaments, chapter two, verses nine to twenty-one

"Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen" (distraxi)
01/29/2019 at 02:25 • Filed to: shitpost

And Saint Attila raised the Hand Grenade up on high, saying, ‘O Lord, bless this Thy Hand Grenade that, with it, Thou mayest blow Thine enemies into tiny pieces... in Thy mercy.’

And the Lord did grin, and the people did feast upon the lambs, and sloths, and carp, and anchovies, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and fruit bats, and large.... (etc)

And the Lord spake, saying, ‘First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then, shalt thou count to three. No more. No less.

Three shalt 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 at 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.

Here endeth the lesson.

DISCUSSION (6)

jimz > Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen
01/29/2019 at 03:55

“One, two, five!”

“ Three , sir!”

“THREE!”

RallyDarkstrike - Fan of 2-cyl FIATs, Eastern Bloc & Kei cars > Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen
01/29/2019 at 06:00

You just made my morning! :D

TheRealBicycleBuck > Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen
01/29/2019 at 06:48

My sleep-addled brain saw this, misinterpreted it, and quickly directed my eyeballs up to the address bar to make sure I was on the right site.

Kinja'd!!!

user314 > Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen
01/29/2019 at 09:39

Kinja'd!!!

Pich, with Z32 now featuring Civic [Si] / No > Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen
01/29/2019 at 11:09

“ non shall pass”

BoxerFanatic, troublesome iconoclast. > Distraxi's idea of perfection is a Jagroen
01/29/2019 at 15:14

Scene 19: Tim the Enchanter Warns of Rabbit Peril

[King Arthur music] - [clop clop clop] - [music stops]

[boom]

KNIGHTS: Eh. Oh. See it? Oh. Oh.

ARTHUR: Knights! Forward!

[boom boom boom boom boom]

[squeak]

[boom boom boom boom]

-What manner of man are you that can summon up fire without flint or tinder?

TIM: I... am an enchanter.

ARTHUR: By what name are you known?

TIM: There are some who call me... ‘Tim’...

ARTHUR: Greetings, Tim the Enchanter.

TIM: Greetings, King Arthur!

ARTHUR: You know my name?

TIM: I do.

[zoosh] You seek the Holy Grail!

ARTHUR: That is our quest. You know much that is hidden, O, Tim.

TIM: Quite. [pweeng boom]

[clap clap clap] ROBIN: Oh.

ARTHUR: Yes, we’re— we’re looking for the Holy Grail. Our quest is to find the Holy Grail. KNIGHTS: Yeah. Yes. It is. It is. Yeah. Yup. Yup. Hm. Mm.

ARTHUR: And so, we’re— we’re— we’re looking for it. BEDEVERE: Yes, we are. GALAHAD: Yeah. ROBIN: We are. We are.

BEDEVERE: We have been for some time. ROBIN: Ages. BEDEVERE: Umhm.

ARTHUR: Uh— uh, so, uh, anything that you could do to, uh— to help... would be... very... helpful.

GALAHAD: Look, can you tell us where— [boom]

ARTHUR: Fine. Um, I don’t want to waste any more of your time, but, uh, I don’t suppose you could, uh, tell us where we might find a, um— find a, uh— a, um— a, uh—

TIM: A what...?

ARTHUR: A g— a— a g— a g— a— a g—

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

ARTHUR: Yes. I think so. ROBIN: Y— y— yes. ARTHUR: Yes. GALAHAD: Yup. KNIGHTS: That’s it...

TIM: Yes!

ROBIN: Oh. ARTHUR: Oh. Thank you. ROBIN: Ahh. GALAHAD: Oh. Fine.

ARTHUR: Thank you. ROBIN: Splendid. KNIGHTS: Aah...

[boom pweeng boom boom]

ARTHUR: Look, um, you’re a busy man, uh—

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

KNIGHTS: Oh, thank you. Oh...

TIM: To the north there lies a cave— the cave of Caerbannog— wherein, carved in mystic runes upon the very living rock, the last words of Olfin Bedwere of Rheged...

[boom]

...make plain the last resting place of the most Holy Grail.

ARTHUR: Where could we find this cave, O Tim?

TIM: Follow!

But! Follow only if ye be men of valour, for the entrance to this cave is guarded by a creature so foul, so cruel that no man yet has fought with it and lived!

Bones of full fifty men lie strewn about its lair.

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

ARTHUR: What an eccentric performance.

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

[clop clop clop] [whinny whinny]

GALAHAD: They’re nervous, sire.

ARTHUR: Then we’d best leave them here and carry on on foot. Dis-mount!

TIM: Behold the cave of Caerbannog!

ARTHUR: Right! Keep me covered. GALAHAD: What with?

ARTHUR: W— just keep me covered.

TIM: Too late! [dramatic chord]

ARTHUR: What?

TIM: There he is!

ARTHUR: Where?

TIM: There!

ARTHUR: What, behind the rabbit?

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

ARTHUR: You silly sod!

TIM: What?

ARTHUR: You got us all worked up!

TIM: Well, that’s no ordinary rabbit!

ARTHUR: Ohh?

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

ROBIN: You tit! I soiled my armor I was so scared!

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

GALAHAD: Get stuffed!

TIM: He’ll do you up a treat, mate.

GALAHAD: Oh, yeah?

ROBIN: You mangy Scots git!

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

ARTHUR: Go on, Bors. Chop his head off!

BORS: Right! Silly little bleeder. One rabbit stew comin’ right up!

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

[squeak]

BORS: Aaaugh! [dramatic chord] [clunk]

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

ROBIN: I done it again!

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

[squeak squeak squeak]

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

ARTHUR: Right. How many did we lose?

LANCELOT: Gawain. GALAHAD: Ector. ARTHUR: And Bors. That’s five.

GALAHAD: Three, sir.

ARTHUR: Three. Three. And we’d better not risk another frontal assault. That rabbit’s dynamite.

ROBIN: Would it help to confuse it if we run away more?

ARTHUR: Oh, shut up and go and change your armor.

GALAHAD: Let us taunt it! It may become so cross that it will make a mistake.

ARTHUR: Like what? GALAHAD: Well... ooh.

LANCELOT: Have we got bows? ARTHUR: No.

LANCELOT: We have the Holy Hand Grenade.

ARTHUR: Yes, of course! The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch! ‘Tis one of the sacred relics Brother Maynard carries with him!

Brother Maynard! Bring up the Holy Hand Grenade!

MONKS: [chanting] Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem.

Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem.

ARTHUR: How does it, um— how does it work?

LANCELOT: I know not, my liege.

!!! UNKNOWN CONTENT TYPE !!!

montypython.50webs.com/scripts/Holy_Grail/