(no subject)
Dear sweet Lord in Heaven...never again.
When I am at last able to get out of this place, I am going to find out who sent me here and see that they are drawn and quartered soundly thrashed sent to bed without dinner. No one should be allowed to do that to their King.
I thought I was done for when the tentacles caught hold of me. I shall not relate what happened, except to say that it was exceedingly unbecoming a King's dignity and far more painful than any ear-boxing I have ever received. I am seriously reconsidering ever choosing a Queen and marrying, if that is the sort of thing those poor women have to put up with in order to produce the expected heir to the throne.
I have crept into this cabin to use their "computer" once again, and hopefully someone--Sir Ector, Sir Grummore, even Kai--will come to rescue me soon. It seems dreadfully regrettable that a King-to-be should have to be rescued like a princess from a dragon, but I must be honest--no dragon I have ever heard of had tentacles.
The zombies are as bad. As are the "alligators", the "psychic toucans", and the myriad of other noxious beasts that infest this place. Sir Pellinore thinks his Questing Beast is so very diresome, hah! He wouldn't last one hour in this 'camp'. There was a rabbit, a short while ago, with nasty sharp pointed teeth...God! I shudder to think of that poor man, throat half ripped out, blood everywhere. The vicious little lepus went after anything that moved, even the zombies.
I believe I am supposed to be sleeping in one of the little huts, or cabins, the other campers have been sent to, but I don't know if that's the wisest choice. They seem to offer neither protection from the rampaging beasts nor soft beds to sleep in. However, perhaps if I do, I shall have someone to consult with on strategy and tactics, and we can possibly find a way out of here.
Getting hungry. I had best attempt the cafeteria again. Perhaps this time all the little foreigners...and that talking turtle thing...and that green-skinned thing with no ears...won't seem quite so alarming. Hunger is a powerful goad.
Thank goodness I had Excalibur with me when I arrived. I am certain I would be defunct without it--deceased, passed the mortal coil, most definitely an ex-King.
When I am at last able to get out of this place, I am going to find out who sent me here and see that they are drawn and quartered soundly thrashed sent to bed without dinner. No one should be allowed to do that to their King.
I thought I was done for when the tentacles caught hold of me. I shall not relate what happened, except to say that it was exceedingly unbecoming a King's dignity and far more painful than any ear-boxing I have ever received. I am seriously reconsidering ever choosing a Queen and marrying, if that is the sort of thing those poor women have to put up with in order to produce the expected heir to the throne.
I have crept into this cabin to use their "computer" once again, and hopefully someone--Sir Ector, Sir Grummore, even Kai--will come to rescue me soon. It seems dreadfully regrettable that a King-to-be should have to be rescued like a princess from a dragon, but I must be honest--no dragon I have ever heard of had tentacles.
The zombies are as bad. As are the "alligators", the "psychic toucans", and the myriad of other noxious beasts that infest this place. Sir Pellinore thinks his Questing Beast is so very diresome, hah! He wouldn't last one hour in this 'camp'. There was a rabbit, a short while ago, with nasty sharp pointed teeth...God! I shudder to think of that poor man, throat half ripped out, blood everywhere. The vicious little lepus went after anything that moved, even the zombies.
I believe I am supposed to be sleeping in one of the little huts, or cabins, the other campers have been sent to, but I don't know if that's the wisest choice. They seem to offer neither protection from the rampaging beasts nor soft beds to sleep in. However, perhaps if I do, I shall have someone to consult with on strategy and tactics, and we can possibly find a way out of here.
Getting hungry. I had best attempt the cafeteria again. Perhaps this time all the little foreigners...and that talking turtle thing...and that green-skinned thing with no ears...won't seem quite so alarming. Hunger is a powerful goad.
Thank goodness I had Excalibur with me when I arrived. I am certain I would be defunct without it--deceased, passed the mortal coil, most definitely an ex-King.