Jabberwocky Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Jabberwocky script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie by Terry Gilliam.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Jabberwocky. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Jabberwocky Script

          'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

          Did gyre and gimble in the wabe

          All mimsy were the borogoves

          And the mome raths outgrabe

            It is the middle of the Dark Ages.

            Ages darker than anyone had ever expected.

            An horrendous monster casts a dreadful pall of fear...

            ...over a once happy land.

            As towns and villages are torn apart...

            ...the helpless survivors seek refuge...

            ...behind the walls of the great city.

            But out in the forest...

            ...in isolated pockets...

            ...still untouched by the ravages of the monster...

            ...life and business goes on...

            ...as usual.

            Thirteen, fourteen. There's another little one.

            -Fifteen. -What are you doing, Dennis?

            Stocktaking, Father.

            -You took stock this morning. -I did.

            It never hurts to keep an account.

            In business now, Father--

            Never mind that nonsense and help with this cask.

            All right, Father. I'll finish stocktaking later.

            You see, the secret of the craft is to keep the stake....

            Take hold of the hoop.

            Dennis. Ralph.

            Good day, Mr. Fishfinger. Can I be of some assistance?

            -Well-- -Dennis, what are you--?

            Yes, well, see, I need some barrels, Dennis...

            ...for shipping dried fish to the city.

            Big demand there, since this monster scare.

            Goodness, prices go up all the time.

            That's great. Tell me, Mr. Fishfinger...

            ...do you believe stories about villages being destroyed?

            I haven't seen the monster myself.

            When I was in Muckley the other day--

            Muckley? That's a ways.

            Two miles or more, easy.

            Gosh, I'd like to travel someday.

            -About the monster.... -Yes.

            Well, this grain merchant, over in Muckley...

            ...he claimed that he'd actually seen it.

            Turned his teeth snow-white overnight, they say.

            -Anyway, about the barrels.... -Yes, well, must be cheap.

            First, must be cheap.

            We can attend to your needs. Exactly how inexpensive?

            -No more than tuppence apiece. -Tuppence?

            What are you talking about? I can't turn out...

            ...a decent barrel for that price.

            -Father, don't you think--? -Be sensible.

            They only have to last until they get to the city.

            I don't make barrels to last two or three days, Fishfinger.

            I make barrels to last a lifetime.

            -Everybody knows. -You'll never understand.

            Or you either, Dennis, I'm afraid.

            You don't want barrels. You want bags.

            Get out!

            -Look, Father-- -Out!

            Don't come back with shoddy deals.

            -Yes. Goodbye. -Tuppence!

            -I'm sorry, Mr. Fishfinger. -It's all right.

            He's given me a very good idea.

            Wait! I think I can get--

            Bye, Dennis.



            -Yeah? -It is l, Dennis...

            -...come to see you. -I see.

            How are you, my love?

              Have you missed me?

              It's lovely to see you again.

              I think about you all day long.

              I dream of when I'll ask for your hand in marriage...

              ...and we'll build that cottage. I'll come home, we'll have supper. Hey!

              Roger, what are you doing? Just you--


              Oh, Griselda. Sorry.


              I can't ask for your love until I can marry. Say you'll wait.

              -Say I've got a chance-- -Let go!

              -Why, Griselda, why? -I've gotta scratch.

              Oh, Griselda. Griselda, l--

              -Sorry, Dennis. How's your father? -Never better, Mrs. Fishfinger.

              -Is that Dennis Cooper? -Yes.

              Hello, Dennis. You've got garbage all over your vest.

              Look after your appearance. Bad for business.

              By the way, thought you'd like to know...

              ...l got Wat the Mercer to run me up a few cloth bags.

              I wish Father could've seen it your way.

              Yes. A man's got to move with the times.

              When you take the shop, we'll do business.

              Oh, that won't be for some time yet.

              It's getting late. I'd better be going.

              Okay by me.

              Drop in anytime, Dennis.

              Goodbye, Griselda.


              -Is that you, Dennis? -Yes, Father.

              -Come closer, Dennis. -Yes, Father.

              -What happened? -My heart.

              I haven't long.

              I'm going-- I'm going to--

              Throw up?


              -Father. -Son.

              What shall I do without your guiding hand, without your skill?

              -Son. -Yes, Father?

              I'll tell you...

              ...you're going to end up just like that...


              Who, me?

              I know Mr. Fishfinger's a successful businessman, but--

              Because you've got no understanding...

              ...of craftsmanship.

              No appreciation of the beauty of wood.

              -But-- -Because you're just a shallow...

              -...dull, pretentious-- -Father!

              Little stocktaker!

              Oh, Father, you're delirious.

              -You don't know what you're saying. -Yes, I do.

              You whimpering...


              ...cretinous oaf!

              -I've wanted to say this for years. -We're not alone.

              You're everything I despise!

              Dad's raving, I'm afraid.

              No, he's not.

              You and your kind will drive good, honest craftsmen to the wall.

              Do you hear? To the wall!

              Honestly, I was only trying to improve the business.

              You won't have my business...

              ...to improve anymore.

              Not my cooperage. Because I'm taking it with me!

              -I don't understand. -Don't understand? Damn ninny.

              I'm renouncing you.

              You're no craftsman's son.

              Get out. Out of my sight!


              Griselda! Griselda, my angel!

              -Go away. We're eating. -Is Griselda there?

              -Is that Dennis? -Yes, sir. Can I speak to Griselda?

              -She's eating. What do you want? -I'm going away to the city.

              I'll come back and claim Griselda's hand.

              So you will, Dennis. Goodbye.

              Griselda, I'm going away. Say something. Say anything.

              -Pass the potatoes. -I heard that! You are in there.

              Darling, I'm going. I may not see you--

              That's rotten!

              For me? Griselda, you do care.

              A keepsake, something that will always remind me of you.

              I'll carry this next to my heart until we next--

              Say bye to the boy, Grisey.


              Goodbye, Griselda.

              No, no! Stay away, stay away!

              Stay away from me!

              What's that? What was that?

              Good morning, Your Majesty.

              Good morning, Passelewe.

              -Good morning. -And to you, sir. A fine day.

              Your business goes well, I trust.

              One doesn't like to complain. Your own?

              One does one's best, you know.

              I hear you're opening a shop.

              By the town gate. An area of growth.

              I agree. I trust we'll hear an order soon.

              Certainly. If your prices are competitive.


              What's the latest wine-to-water ratio?

              It's two wine to one water still. It can't hold at that rate.

              They're lucky to get wine.

              Is that all? I detected a certain oneness in the last consignment.

              That's odd. It was robust when it left my premises. Get a move on.

              I'll send you a sample of our new port--

              Move it, you lame buggers. That would be kind.

              -Why has the king called this council? -Lord knows. Get going, you!

              I hear he is urged to take measures against the monster.

              Allowing the peasants to leave?

              It could very well be. And that would not be good for business. Move it!

              -After you. -No, you first.

              You're too kind.

              Attention! Our Most Glorious Majesty...

              ...King Bruno the Questionable.

              Son of Olaf the Loud.

              Oh, he's coming! He's coming!

              -I'm not finished yet-- -Oh, look out! He's here!

              -Your Majesty. -Pay attention, Your Majesty.

              You must see it's of the gravest urgency.

              -Yes, yes. Of course. -Jesus Christ!

              Quick sire, down.

              Stop it!

              Come on.

              Bless my soul!


              ...of Emperor Otto the Bent...


              ...of Freedonia.

              Let him go! Get up, man.

              You'll get your rags all dirty.

              Sire. Help us, sire.

              The monster is ravaging the countryside.

              It has destroyed our homes. We haven't eaten in days.

              -Weeks. -Months.

              -Except-- -I ate my shoe yesterday.

              Oh, that's nothing. I ate three toes off of my right foot.

              -Terrible-- -That ain't your right foot.

              Know-it-all! Are you a doctor or something?

              I saw a doctor once. He didn't see me. I was hiding.

              Your Majesty, save us from the great green beast.

              -Gray! -The side I saw was a dirty yellow.

              -No, it were more orange. -It was gray!

              Now stop it. Stop it, all of you!

              Go on, get out, get out!

              What are you doing? Get out!

              I'll read this to the king.

              -Stop it! -Go on!

              It seems, Passelewe, that my subjects are becoming a pain in the arse.

              Yes. Well, you must do something.

              Your kingdom is paralysed with fear. The city is packed with refugees.

              They're easy prey for every sharp-witted merchant and trickster.

              Past grand master of the Royal Order of Lowndes Victor, Saviour of Wales.

              -Hey! -And king.

              Your Majesty, your council meets today in solemn session...

              ...to urgently discuss the terrible havoc...

              ...wreaked by the monster all over the countryside.

              Nobody gets in here without money or possessions.

              But I've got possessions. See?

              That's only a rock.

              -Only a rock? -Yeah.

              Listen, what if this is not just an ordinary rock?

              What if this is a diamond?

              It don't shine. Now get out of here!

              Right, next.

              -What have you got? Any grain? Cloth? -I haven't got anything.

              -But it's important that I get in. -They all say that. Move on.

              You don't understand. I'm here for a job. I'm starting over.

              I've got lots of good ideas--

              Now look, sonny, shove off. Wait a minute! What have you got here?

              What's this?

              You told us you had nothing.

              -That's not for eating. -What?

              You could last for a week on that.

              Just a minute. What are you up to, sonny?

              Oh, nothing. It's a memento.

              A memento?

              My sweetheart gave it to me.

              She gave you that?

              Yes. Can I have it back, please?

              God, she must really love you.

              Do you really think so?

              Yeah. I've got a sticky feeling inside me just thinking of it.

              -You sure are a lucky guy. -Come on, Fred. Cut it out.

              -He's not getting in. -Give him a break, just this once.

              No chance. Now push off, you.

              Just because he's got a potato--

              That's what they all say.

              -Wait a minute. -Hey, you!

              Come back!

              That's far enough.

              Let's have a look at your legs.


              And so, Your Majesty...

              ...your great-great-great-great- great-grandfather...

              ...King Max the Vainglorious, by a tournament...

              ...chose from his knights a champion to free the kingdom from pestilence.

              Mounted on his mighty charger, Sir Bromiades waged--

              What's that?

              Quickly, man. Somebody might be trying to poison me.

              -Plaster, Your Majesty. -Oh. Carry on, Passelewe.

              -Mounted on his-- -The    th--

              -Mounted on his mighty-- -No, wait. Twelfth century.

              Shut up! Fool!

              Carry on.

              Until peace was once more restored to the kingdom.

              With that, King Max rode back to the cheers of his subjects...

              ...who lined the road for    miles.

              Fifty miles? Do you mean they cheered him all that way?

              Wow! They certainly must have respected him.

              You're right. We'll hold a tournament.

              It's years since we've heard the clash of sword against shield...

              ...the clamour of armoured knights crashing to the ground...

              ...the spurt of blood as the dagger is thrust into unprotected groin.

              Oh, no, dear. No, no, no.

              What I had in mind was a tournament a plaisance.

              A plaisance?

              Passelewe, do my ear holes hear aright?

              A plaisance, with blunted sword and collared lance?

              Where's the honour?

              Where's the glory in buffoons playing pillow fights?

              No! It must be I'outrance. To the death.

              -Please, Bruno, please. -No, no, no.

              Go with all speed and make the arrangements.

              I can't wait to tell the princess.


              Still working hard, I see.

              You and the blessed Sisters of Misery.

              Well, what are you making, daughter?

              A tapestry depicting the famous siege of Castle Apcadwallader.

              See? ln this portion, the king is eating his horse...

              ...on the   th day of the siege.


              Very pretty, daughter. But you were always--

              Careful, Father. Sister Winnet fell out last week.

              Daughter, our kingdom will soon be free of the monster.

              I have declared a tournament to find a champion to destroy it.

              -What, the kingdom? -Oh, no.

              -Of course not, silly. The monster. -Oh! I see.

              Yes, and not only that.

              The successful knight will win your hand in marriage.


              Yes, well, you want to be married, surely?

              -Of course, Daddy. -Then--

              But I want to marry a prince. I'm supposed to.

              That's why I wait here, like all the books say to.

              Are any of the contestants princes?

              -Well, not exactly. -No?

              No, but I could make one a prince, couldn't l?

              -I mean the winner. -It's not the same.

              No, not really. Well, never mind.

              Once the monster is destroyed, I will build you a beautiful bridal suite...

              ...in the lovely west tower.

              On second thought...

              ...l think the view from the lovely east tower...

              ...would be infinitely more preferable.

              -Who is it? -Excuse me.

              -Watch him. -What does he want?

              -Could I have some of your soup? -He's after our soup!

              -Somebody stop him! -Poke a hole in him!

              -I'll do anything. -Will he gather firewood?

              -What do you think? -We should poke a hole in him.

              I'll collect firewood if you let me have soup.

              Where do I get it from?

              Well, could I have a taste of the soup first?

              Just see if I like it? No, I thought not.

              Well, I'd better go then. The firewood, was it?

              So, you've discovered my diamond mine?

              -I was gathering firewood. -Liar! It's diamonds you're after.

              -Those aren't diamonds. They're rocks. -Rocks?

              Quick thinking, but not quick enough to save your skin!

              The secret of my diamond mine dies with you!

              I just dropped in to tell you to start without me.

              Perhaps another night.

              Hey! Hey! Hold it!

              Open up there! Open the door!

              Open it up! Open up in there!

              Open it! Open the door! Open the door!

              Rush hour!

              Hearken before it is too late!

              Repent! Cleanse yourselves!

              The beast is at the gates!

              The beast is at the gates!

              -Cleanse yourselves! -Horrible. Horrible.


              The beast is at the gates!

              Cleanse yourselves!

              All citizens, listen to me.

              -Yeah, you better bloody listen! -I hope you're listening!

              Are you listening up?!

              -You better listen up! -Shut up!

              -You were making noise. -You never listen.

              -Sin! -Sin. Sin.

              -The spikes of the pondylus. -The pondylus.

              -The crests of the dactylopters. -Dactylopters.

              -The trigla. -The trigla.

              -And the flying hogfish. -And the flying hogfish.

              Are as nothing compared to the beast that holds us prisoner!

              -The beast.... -Flying hogfish?

              I seen a gliding hogfish once.

              Never flying. Not actually flying.

              Stewed mackerel! Stewed mackerel!

              Cabbages. Cabbages.

              Rats killed, lady. All very tidy. All very quiet.

              -Morning. -Oh, morning.

              -I'm afraid I haven't got any money. -Oh, that's all right.

              Thank you.

              Thank you.

              -Is that yours? -Well, of course it is.

              Whose did you think it was?

              -New to the city? -Yes.

              I came to start a new life here. Get a job.

              A job? No chance, son. Oh, thank you, governor.

              There must be plenty of opportunities.

              Morning. Thank you.

              I am a qualified cooper's apprentice.

              Cooper's apprentice?

              Well, what a coincidence. I'm a cooper myself.

              You may even have heard of me. Wat Dabney.

              Wat Dabney!

              Not the Wat Dabney? lnventor of the inverted firkin?

              The very same, lad.

              Now, if I can't get a job here, what chance have you got?

              Come here. Here. You see that plaque?

              There, under the barrel. That's a guild sign.

              To work there, you've got to be a guild member.

              But you're not, and I'm not and not likely to be.

              That's not fair.

              Fair or not, guilds have the town sewn up.

              -Morning. -What am I gonna do?

              It's no good going around with a long face.

              I did for weeks. Nearly starved.

              Then only this morning, I thought of this.


              Maybe we could team up together.


              -All we've got to do is-- -No. Goodbye.

              I think it's a one-man business.

              What a golden chance he's missing.

              Attention! Attention...

              ...ladies and gentlemen, please.

              In my humble capacity as herald to His--

              Magnificence, King Bruno the Questionable...

              ...it is my privilege to announce...

              ...a joost....

              Sorry, a joust...

              ...to the death, to choose a champion.

              A champion to free the country--

              To free the country from the torments and ravages of the--

              Excuse me.

              Thank you very much.

              As a reward for killing the monster...

              ...the king's champion will receive...

              ...half the princess's hand and the entire kingdom in marriage.

              Correction. It is, of course--

              It is, of course, the king's hand and half the princess's kingdom.

              Excuse me.

              Yes, I see. Thank you.

              I've just received final confirmation of the final terms.

              It is, of course, the princess's hand...

              ...and half the entire kingdom.

              -Beware the Jabberwock, my son. -Cabbages.

              -The jaws that bite-- -Can I have one for nothing?

              Get off.

              Hot roasted rats! Only a farthing.

              Rats on a stick!

              Shortly, one of you will own this egg....

              Get them hot! There you are, sonny. Off you go then.

              Here! Get your rats! Only a farthing!

              Turnips. Get your turnips. Turnips here.

              Turnips. Get your turnips.

              Hey, watch it!

              Jesus Christ!

              I'm sorry. I only wanted a turnip.

              Just keep walking.

              Hold up one minute. I'll have you out in two shakes.

              -Come on! -I've got it, really.

              How about that then?

              First-class service as advertised. Tell your friends.

              -Where do you want it? -By the burnishing pit.

              Over by the burnishing pit.

              Suppose you want this lot today. What happened? A tree fall on him?

              All right up there?

              You're the master armourer! Look at this arm brace!

              You call that workmanship?

              -I can't do-- -Look at this jambeau!

              -What's wrong with it? -It fell off!

              You can't please people.

              I sent for the best armour. Arm braces are simple!

              I don't want to hear it! You said Friday afternoon!

              And to me, that means Friday afternoon!

              -I put three of my best men on the job. -No good!

              Get back!

              Come on, boys. Come on.

              And don't bother sending a bill, either!

              Excuse me.

              Excuse me! I couldn't help noticing--

              Get on out of here!

              It would increase your efficiency if you moved your box to here.

              You clumsy idiot!

              -Let's get out of here. -I was trying--

              -You did beautifully! -What about him?

              Come on! I'll buy you a drink. We'll go to the Queen's Haemorrhoids!

              -That better? -Oh, yeah.

              -I can't remember when I ate last. -I know.

              I once went without food for     days.


              It was the siege of Caerlaverock.

              Food was so short-- What's the matter? You got a stomachache?

              I was trying to work out my next move.

              So was l. Jeez, why worry?

              I've got to! It's a big step coming from a small village to a city.

              I know! That's what attracted me to the life of a squire, the travelling.

              One day you're in Hertford hunting...

              ...the next you're in Scotland being burned at the stake. The adventure!

              Like the time we was fighting the Blessed Sisters of St. Alopecia...

              ...a band of warrior nuns.

              It sounds exciting. But how secure is it?

              -Now, you take coopering-- -Coopering?

              Coopering! Hell! That's no life for a man!

              It is too. Barrels and casks are very important.

              -Now, in commerce-- -Commerce!

              Rubbish! Now you listen to me.

              My knight was wounded, and there was I with my back to the wall...

              ...two great nuns coming at me with maces.

              -Fighting nuns isn't respectable-- -Here, I'll show you! Come here!

              Now you try. Come at me. Put up!

              Pretend that drumstick is a mace. Oh, come on!

              Really let me have it.

              -Come on! -I can't.

              Go for me! I deflected the mace!

              Then I grabbed her like this!

              -Talk to the landlord. -What?

              Then I threw her again like this!

              -Distract him. -What for?

              She was tough, see, but I grabbed her in the old--

              -Keep him talking. -I don't understand.

              You will. Just do it!

              Now here comes the best part.

              She broke my grip. She was coming in for the kill...

              ...when I turned tail and ran for it.

              Slamming shut the castle doors, I barred them...

              ...grabbing one of the novices as a hostage.

              I fought my way up to the battlements...

              ...hacking and slashing as I went.

              All in tears, in cuts!

              Easily outdistancing the enemy, I escaped.

              Open this up! Open it up!

              What the hell?

              All right, men. Coming up right away.

              Let's have some decorum here.

              -What do you want? -Well, I was just wondering--

              -Speak up! I'm a busy man. -That's what I wanted to ask.

              I used to be a cooper's apprentice, and I was--

              Coming up. What is it? Spit it out.

              I wondered if you could tell me about the inn business.

              -I could change trades-- -What, now?

              Mr. Rotcod, that party in the corner is waiting!

              Tell them it's coming up. Go away! I've no time.

              It would help if you put the ale over here and the mead over here.

              I noticed you're impairing efficiency by--

              Will you get out of my way?

              -Betty, come and give me a hand. -Your wife's not here.

              -Your wife? -Not here?

              Not here? Where is she?

              -She's-- -She's what?

              I don't know. Maybe she's--

              And where's your friend, that loudmouthed squire?

              -What? -No.

              -No what? -They're not upstairs.

              I mean, they're not here. No, they're not here.


              You swine!

              I'm gonna kill him, then I'm gonna kill you!


              You toad!

              Right! What's all this?

              Brawling in the public streets. Disturbing the king's peace?

              This man-- My wife-- Let go of me.

              All right, hold him, Fred. Now young fellow....

              Here, I know you!

              It was him who tried to get in the other day.

              -My wife and the squire-- -The dungeon will sort them out.

              Right. Then we can put irons on their legs, eh?

              -But-- -You can't!

              Destroy the monster?

              If you destroy the monster, you destroy the city.

              The long term will show that we owe the monster...

              ...a period of prosperity unprecedented in this kingdom.

              This is ridiculous. The tournament must continue.

              A champion must be chosen.

              Bruno, the merchants may be prospering...

              -...but your kingdom's collapsing. -Oh, yes. Oh, well--

              Now hear this!

              The king, that flower of chivalry, that prince of monarchs...

              ...that paragon of potentates, is going to speak.

              Hear the wisdom, witness the wit...

              ...observe the oratorical eloquence, lend an ear.

              Beautifully said.

              --to the mellow voice, the tender tones...

              ...the coruscating consonants...

              ...of His Majesty, King Bruno.

              Very lovely. Well, l--

              --who is going to give it to you straight...

              ...clarify the conundrums, dazzle us with logic.

              My lords, Your Grace...

              ...Your Honour, the king!

              Oh! Oh, yes.

              Bishop, how can you, a man of God, say that the beast is good?

              I welcome your question.

              Indeed it may seem paradoxical...

              ...but since the advent of the beast, church attendance has tripled!

              Tithing has increased. Long lines of sinners wait eagerly for confession.

              -Piety has never been higher. -Oh, bravo.

              -Well, my lord bishop-- -Oh, yes.

              The king will speak. The king.

              Thank you.

              -Guard! -Sire.

              -Kill that man. -Sire.

              What? Who?

              Anyway, the most potent...

              ...most poetical...

              ...most prestigious--

              Well, Your Majesty, what is your opinion?

              -Give us guidance. -Even a hint.

              I think--

              What's that? What's going on here?

              Just one moment.

              What's going on here?

              Who dares sully my castle with unseemly brawls?

              Guards, bring them in!

              We'll show them who's king here.

              -But we have important matters-- -Important matters, Passelewe?

              Surely keeping the peace in my own castle is important.

              First things first!

              They'll taste the king's justice.

              Put me down!



              Now what's this all about?

              -The squire! Behind my back! -Calm, my man.

              Remember you're in the presence of your king.

              Guards, let him go.

              Let him speak.

              Your Majesty, this man--

              This man--

              -What's going on here? -Look out, sire! Get down!

              -Hold it! -Get him!

              This is outrageous!

              -Weren't there two of them to start? -Yes, sir.

              -Where's the other one got to? -I don't know, sir.

              Right. Then it falls upon us to find this man guilty.

              Guilty? Guilty of what, sire?


              -Keep your eyes peeled. -Right.

              Quick, down this way!

              -Check up there. -No. Come on!

              A man!

              Watch the princess!

              -A man! -At last you've come!

              -I'm sorry, barging in-- -Don't be shy.

              I knew you'd come someday.

              -I was coming up the stairs-- -Put this on. You turn around!

              -I don't want to bother-- -You must have travelled far to come.

              Swum rivers, climbed mountains, fought battles.

              You can turn around now.

              There. Do I come up to your expectations?

              Do you find me beautiful?

              Oh, yes. Thank you.

              Oh, come, my prince. Don't be shy.

              But I can't. I'm not dressed for the occasion.


              You mustn't worry about those filthy peasant rags...

              ...which you were no doubt forced to don.

              Soon we'll have you attired once more in princely finery.

              No. You see, there's been some mistake.

              -My name is Dennis. -Prince Dennis.

              -No, Dennis Cooper. I used to be-- -Your face. You're wounded.

              -No, it's nothing. Just a bruise. -Just a bruise?

              How brave you are, my prince...

              ...for surely it must have been a terrible blow.

              No, an innkeeper sat on me.

              You see, he thought--

              Well, this squire, you see, his wife--

              What, the innkeeper's wife was a squire?

              I've been dreaming of this day for so long...

              ...but little did I expect one so brave and valiant and wise...

              ...one who's crossed the seven seas for me...

              ...and galloped across deserts and canyons to be by my side at last.

              -My love. -Come.

              Tell me of your adventures.

              We must get to know each other before we're married.

              Married? No, I'm sorry, miss. I can't do that.

              Can't? My prince, did I hear you right?

              -It's very kind of you to ask-- -No, don't tell me. I know.

              -I know. -You know?

              In your adventures, you rescued a maiden chained to a dark cliff.

              -No, not exactly. -She fell in love. You fell in love.

              There and then before the gods, you made a pact only death could break.

              -No, you're on the wrong tack. -Come.

              You must not linger in idle conversation.

              You gained entry to the castle by stealth...

              ...and now you must leave in the same way.

              I know.

              Sister Jessica, give your habit to the prince.

              -My habit, princess? -Yes, and hurry.

              But what's wrong with Sister Marian's habit?

              Don't be silly. Here.

              Now, my prince, this is the plan.

              Tomorrow is St. Talulah's Day, and by first light...

              ...a nun must depart this city and lay fresh dogwort...

              ...on the spot where St. Talulah was murdered by the Benslow Four.

              You shall be that nun. Sister Jessica?

              Sister Jessica.

              -Well, give it to the prince. -Thank you, Sister--

              Then, proceed to the western wall...

              ...but by the back streets only!

              When you get to the gate, say:

              "I have the holy dogwort for St. Talulah's spot.

              Let me pass that I might pray awhile."

              Oh, my prince.

              -Is this yours? -Yes. No!

              Please let me have it.

              Let me have it as a souvenir of our hopeless, flawless love.

              -I'll cherish it always. -I can't--

              And now, my prince, you must flee!

              No! No, don't kiss me.

              -I couldn't stand it. -I wasn't going to.

              Just go.

              Just go, my prince.

              And remember:

              "I have the holy dogwort for St. Talulah's spot."

              In Latin, my love.

              -Evening, Sister. -Evening.

              What have we got here?

              A strange face?

              And a pretty one.

              Well, now, let's have a look. Let's have a kiss!

              -Come on, sarge. She's a nun. -So she is.

              Let's have a Christian kiss.

              -What's the matter, sarge? -Put me to bed, boys. Put me to bed.

              -It's the devil in the guise of a nun! -It's a nun in the guise of the devil!

              -Get her! -Get him!

              Get them both!

              Citizens! A sacrifice must be made to the monster...

              ...that lurks in the darkness in wait for us all!

              And what better than to sacrifice one of the beast's own servants...

              ...whom we caught masquerading as a holy sister of the Mother Church?

              We will fire him into the eternal darkness...

              ...as a testimony to our piety and godliness.

              Imagine his agony as the flames rise higher...

              ...higher until he is but a ball of living fire!

              Oh, the agony!

              Imagine his horror as the mighty ballistic device...

              ...hurls him high into the depths of the blackened sky!

              Are you imagining the horror?

              Imagine the terror of his suspense...

              ...as our poor sacrifice waits...

              ...for the darkling earth to rise up and crush him to its harsh bosom!

              Oh, the suspense!

              -The incertitude! -Oh, the incertitude!

              I like suspense.

              Imagine his final horror...

              ...as his miserable life is snuffed out...

              ...in a glorious bone-crushing cascade of phosphorescence...

              ...as he finally, agonizingly smashes into the ground!

              -That's not fair, that. -No, it's definitely not fair.

              What's not fair?

              -How come he gets to go? -Why should he have the pain?

              And that bone-crushing horror. I want to go!

              -I want to go! -I want to burn.

              I want to feel my bones burst into a billion pieces!

              I want to trace across the firmament...

              ...a glowing ball of flame...

              ...a testament to our godliness and piety!

              -What does that mean? -I don't know, but I want it!

              I want it!

              -Hot! -Fire!


                Another glorious day for a tournament, eh, Passelewe?

                I suppose so, Your Majesty.

                You suppose so?

                Suppose so?

                Buck up, man. Buck up. It's tournament time!

                Certainly, Majesty.

                But I can't but think there must be a better way to choose a champion.

                A better way? What better than the shattering of lances?

                The flailing of the mace? The thrust of swords?

                The ring of fauchon en cuissard?

                What better way than an honest tournament, Passelewe? Yes.

                My dear, how beautiful you look.


                -What on earth is that? -But, Dad--


                Look at that! Did you see that?

                Right in the middle of the old demi-brassarts. Jolly good. Bravo!

                Another one on the maimed list. Probably dead by now.

                A scratch. Plenty more where he came from.

                Not really, sire.

                What do you mean, Passelewe, "Not really, sire"?

                Now, which part of this is giving you difficulty?

                Well, all of it, frankly. What do you mean by it?

                I mean by saying "Not really, sire," the true situation is likely to be...

                ...ipso facto, to the contrary...

                ...and the exact opposite to that which you perceive.

                I appended, because, after all, you are the king, aren't you?

                And that's a reasonable way of addressing a monarch.

                -Daddy. -What is it, darling?

                -What is it? -Look at that brute of a knight.

                -I couldn't marry anything like that. -Of course not. You won't have to.

                He won't...


                Passelewe, what were we discussing a moment ago?

                -The toll of your knights, sire. -Now, just a moment, Passelewe.

                You used that "sire" for the same reason you used it in the first place?

                -Right. -Right.

                -I thought so. -Right.

                According to my records,   % of the knights of your realm...

                ...have been killed or maimed in the tournament.

                Passelewe, that's no figure at all. No figure at all.

                Now, if it was   . % or   . %, now that is a true percentage...

                -...in the truest sense. -My dearest Bruno, do listen.

                If this continues, even until the end of the week, where--

                -Hold it! -What?

                This one I must see.

                There must be a better way of choosing.

                Ethel? ls that you, Ethel?

                I wondered what happened to you last night.

                Can't talk. Due in the lists in     minutes.

                I'm coming, Mother.

                Watch where you're getting the blood! Christ!

                -How else can we choose a champion? -We could call an election.

                Election? Oh, no. Nonsense. It wouldn't be fair to the knights.

                -They could draw lots. -Draw lots?

                Bless my soul. You might as well do it dip, dip, dip, my little ship...

                ...or one potato, two potatoes.

                Or even hide and seek.



                The cardinal said, "I asked for    vergers.

                Why have you brought me    virgins?"

                Now, we're in the garden and a thousand voices said as one man :

                "Ave, ave, passed through this way."

                Ave, ave, what?

                -Why do I need to say ave? -Just sit back...

                ...and let something nice happen to you for a change.

                Looks like they've chosen a champion. Can you see who it is?

                It's my boss. Christ.

                Well, congratulations, sire. We have a champion.

                Good. Where is he?

                They haven't found him yet.

                -Is that good? -Yes. That's what makes him a champion.

                I see.

                They will find him, won't they?

                -You must be very proud. -Proud, you shit? Shit!

                -Isn't that a great honour? -Maybe he'll get the honour.

                I'll get a dragon's tooth up my bum and a shilling-a-year pension.

                I'll have to sit vigil with him all night as well. Christ, what luck!

                I promised my body to a woman tonight.

                Maybe I could go and tell the lady that--

                Wait a minute. Maybe you could do it.

                Certainly I could. I'll tell the lady--

                -No, no, not that. Sit the vigil. -Me?

                I could give you my hat, my cape.

                Just keep your head down. He'll never know.

                -I can't do that. It's not right. -Who'll know? Come on!

                -A beast! -Here I am.

                Oh, not you!

                Forget it.

                -Squire? What squire? -You know what squire.

                Oh, my rheumatism. That cell was so damp. Two whole nights.

                Oh, you poor dear.

                Come, let me undress you and put you to bed.

                It must have been an awful experience.

                It was.

                Oh, Betty. Your hands are so soft and warm.

                You don't really think there was a squire up here in our bed, do you?

                -Well.... -Do you? Come, let me take those off.

                And that.

                Doesn't that feel better?

                Bernard, my darling.





                The king.

                Me? Oh, yes.

                Good Sir Knight, you have proved your worth on the field of honour.

                And now you must prove yourself in mortal combat...

                ...with a monster so terrifying, so awe-inspiring, so horrible...

                ...so soul-destroying that even I would hesitate...

                ...to meet it face to face...

                ...in hand-to-hand combat. Was that all right?

                Well, I suppose so, my darling.

                And so, go forth and slay the beast.

                And take with you the royal blessings...

                ...and also the blessings of Mother Church.


                -Get out of here! -Bloody sods!

                -Is that all? -That's it.

                Right. Herald?

                Have the gates opened.

                Well, carry on!

                Open the gates!

                Fare well.


                He took his vorpal sword in hand

                Long time the manxome foe he sought

                So rested he by the Tumtum tree

                And stood awhile in thought

                And as in uffish thought he stood

                The Jabberwock, with eyes aflame

                Came whiffling through the tulgey wood

                And burbled as it came


                Lance, lance.

                Come on. Come on.


                Go get them, boys!

                Monster? Monster?

                Where monster?

                There he is!

                Don't let him get away.

                Monster? Monster?

                I am here, Griselda. Fear not.

                Gee, a knight! I never saw a knight before.

                Oh, Mr. Fishfinger!

                Oh, stop dribbling, woman.

                Oh, bless you. O noble lad. Oh, thank you.

                Stand aside, Mrs. Fishfinger.

                Sorry. Are you all right?

                You almost cut my arm off!

                You always were a clumsy one, Dennis Cooper.

                Shame on you!

                Get out! Jesus!

                I could get blood poisoning. Was that sword sterilized?

                I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'll bind it up. I'll get bandages.

                Jesus. Get off!


                -What? -Look.

                Good Sir Knight. Good Sir Knight.

                We're so grateful to you for rescuing us from those foul fiends.


                Very gracious of you, Sir Knight.

                We're very undeserving, really. We're just humble fisher folk.

                However, we do have this maiden daughter.

                As there is this custom...

                ...the knight quite often marries the maiden he's rescued.

                Say hello to the knight, Griselda honey.

                It was me that rescued you.

                Will you clear off? What do you say, Sir Knight?

                Good Sir Knight.

                -Well? -Hark. Be gone.

                -Wait! -Come back here!

                Sir Knight, come back, please!

                Griselda. Mr. Fishfinger. I've got to go. Sorry about your hand.

                It hurts!

                I've missed you. I've kept your potato.


                You really are a big disappointment to me.

                I thought you were gonna make something of yourself.

                He is the king's champion!

                Call yourself an eligible suitor for our fair Griselda? You're a vagrant!

                Hold him, Madge. Hold him!

                You leave her alone. Leave her alone.

                Go on!

                Someone at the door, dear.

                -We must make up our minds. -Gentlemen!

                -We can't delay. -Let's do something.

                This king's champion must be stopped.

                The monster must be protected.

                If he kills the monster, we'll all be ruined.

                Let me prevail upon you.

                No more argy-bargy is necessary because I have a plan.

                Behold! The Black Knight.


                We must be getting closer.

                Grease. Grease.

                Now that.

                Get him.

                And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

                Come to my arms, my beamish boy

                -Oh, frabjous day! -The monster's dead!

                The monster's dead!

                Stop! No one's to enter the city unless they have money.

                Stop, I say!

                Oh, my God!

                Cancel those shipments of wine, grain, straw!

                Cancel everything!

                -Dennis, here she is. Griselda! -Here I am.

                It's me!

                Dennis, it was always you!

                You's the one we was pushing for.

                We'll have the wedding tomorrow. This afternoon.

                We'll get the bishop.

                Dennis, you're wonderful.

                Griselda, at last we can have the life we always wanted.

                My boy, congratulations.

                We offer you our heartfelt thanks.

                You have cleared the kingdom of a great menace.

                I am happy to fulfill my promise and to bestow upon you--

                -What's his name? -It's Dennis.

                Dennis Cooper, Your Royalshipness. That's his fiancee, my daughter.

                You, Dennis...

                ...one half of my entire kingdom.

                And the hand in marriage of my daughter, the princess.

                Come, my boy. To the palace!


                I pronounce you man and wife.

                Prince and princess!



                Whose idea was it to run him off without a wedding? Shut up!

                Look out, sire!

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