The Penis Monologues
Chapter 2: Merlin
"Prat!"
By the 'Sidhe' that man amazes me. The bloody arrogant sophist, humph as if Arthur!
It is not as if I am asking for much here, a little respect, maybe a touch of kindness; hell I'd settle for being noticed occasionally, but no, His Royal Pain in the Backside has to try play some stupid game.
I slave away all day cleaning, polishing, mending, everything 'ing and what do I get?
Nothing, zip, zilch. I'm telling you, no more, I've had it. Bloody dragon has no idea of what he is talking about; destiny, double sided coins; well I've had enough.
I'm supposed to be the Mighty Emrys, I have more power in my thumb than Uther has over Albion and yet what am I doing... oh yeah, bloody cleaning, polishing, mending.
The silly bugger should try walk a mile in my, granted not anyway as nearly well made, boots. Hell, then he'd see what regular people have to put up with... let alone hard done by junior sorcerers. Christea Tighera! I'd be better off living with Mordred's kin; at least there I can practise my magic, hell there I could save anyone and get an honest thank you for my troubles.
Speaking of saving... how many times have I pulled his chestnuts out of the fire?
Whoa, mental image there, maybe I should focus a little more on other sorts of nuts for a bit...
Nope, no good.
Well, it's not my fault his Royal Pratiness could also double as a 'Ye Olde ChippenDaleus' performer.
Hmmmm, no, not helping matters here at all, I'm supposed to be righteously indignant here, not bloody daydreaming.
Where was I? Oh, yes.
Such an infantile attempt on a word play, I mean, please; polishing his sword?
More like a table dirk, well maybe a dagger.
Bugger it... ok, ok a great bloody broad sword; happy now? Anyway, it makes no difference how large an... arsenal the Prat possesses, trying to trick me using stupid, juvenile references is NOT going to get me to... um, polish his sword.
If he wants me to do that, then he'll have to bloody well treat me right for a change.
Hmmm, that didn't come out as well as I wanted it to.
Let's try that again, he'll have to wine and dine me, respect me, go down on one knee...
Oops, not a good image there... or maybe too good an image.
Ok, face Merlin old boy... all it would take is Arthur on a good day, only yelling at me a few times and no time spent in the stocks. Yup, that's all it would take and I'd be doing more than just polishing his bloody sword.
Oh yes, hmmm, let's see, we can polish the sword, play sheath the sword, practise sword play, sword swallowing... always good for kids parties, duelling; the first one who shoots wins.
I think I may have been just a touch hasty there, I'd really like to see if Arthurs scabbard would fit my sword or not.
Maybe I should just head down to the armoury and... stock up on a few cleaning supplies and maybe a few rags, polishing always does seem to make a mess after all.
