“He was so afraid of travelling – in fact, so afraid of everything – that in order to take as long as possible reaching Wales, Lord Pleat paid someone to steal his horse and got his very helpful squire to drop a very heavy rock on Lord Pleat’s right foot. He then dropped an even heavier rock on his very helpful squire. The result was that he had a serious limp and his very helpful squire became less helpful, extremely flat and quite a lot dead. Hopefully, he thought as he hopped down the road in...to the darkness, dragons will be extinct before I reach the Welsh border, or at the very least someone else will have found a Brave Knight. What he didn’t take into account was that every single passing idiot with a horse and cart would insist on giving him a lift. ‘Excuse me, my lord,’ they would say as they drew alongside the hopping lord, ‘I can’t help noticing that you’ve got a bad foot.’ ‘Indeed.’ ‘So, noble lord,’ the idiot would continue, ‘I would consider it a great prilivij, privylodge, um, honour, if you’m would allow me to render you some assisstun, assytunce, some help and give you a lift.’ The idiot would then make his family lie in the back of the cart on top of the cow dung to make a comfortable bed for Lord Pleat to sit on.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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