The Penis Monologues
Chapter 1: Arthur
"Prat!"
That's all I hear before the door is slammed yet again in my face. I mean you would think that being the Crown Prince of Camelot would entitle me to a few privileges, but I think I'd trade them all for one semi-decent manservant.
Sometimes it's hard being me, on the one hand there is my father and all his expectations and sometimes that can get the better of me, well anyone really, be they crofter or be they prince. I don't really mind I suppose, it kind of goes with the whole 'Prince' thing I guess... not much I can do about it either way.
Now, on the other hand I do have my pick of how, who, where and when. I mean my meals are served to me, my ale and wine poured for me. I get dressed by standing there holding my arms out while they robe me. It is a bit much sometimes, but you learn to live with it.
Even the bane of my existence, well my bane before a certain clumsy big eared, blue eyed manservant that is, Morgana has to accept my superior status regardless of how she may feel about it personally.
So why in the name of all that's true and righteous does 'he' push me so? It's not that I like seeing him in the stocks or anything, but the man just will not listen... well maybe I do like it... just a little bit.
He is infuriating, constantly questioning my authority, never obeys orders... even when I do ask nicely, well nice enough. Still, why will he not behave as all the other servants do?
Take this morning for instance, I offered him the opportunity to get to know me better whilst he was fastening my boots for me and what do I get for letting my guard down around him? Nothing, zero... zip.
Idiot, that's what he is, a bloody idiot. How hard is it to see what I was offering? I mean HELLO, he's on his knees in front of me, head at the perfect height and I'm nicely aroused... well I suppose you could say very aroused, but that's neither here nor there.
It doesn't take a genius to work out that polishing my sword does not have to involve a whet stone or shining the family jewels always requires polish and hard elbow grease.
No, all I get is the King of Clueless, the Prince of Naive... the Knave of Hearts.
So all that was left for me to do was give a practical demonstration... hey, it works with the knights.
So here I am getting ready to demonstrate the correct technique for polishing my sword when he finally gets a clue, takes one look and bolts to the other side of the room. I mean, I haven't ever received that reaction before, bit hard which way to take it... I'll just go with he was impressed and intimidated by the length and breadth of my sword... yes, that's it.
So, that brings us to the beginning of the tale, door slammed and me with a lance you could run a pennon up.
I don't think I'll ever understand the idiot, I don't think I'll ever understand him at all.