Wall of Disclaimers is up on my profile. And I apologize ahead of time. From here until the end is just sad on my quality scale. Actually, the whole thing is.
Evening arrived and Alex discovered he did like haggis. It tasted strange but had a very interesting texture. He wisely didn't ask what was in it.
Smithers started smoking a pipe, blowing rings in some pattern. "How's a riddle, Alex?"
The knight rolled his eyes. "Sounds like fun." Alex was quite bored.
"While on my way to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives. Each wife had seven sons. Each son had seven sacks. Each sack had seven cats. Each cat had seven kits. How many were going to St. Ives?"
Alex recalled his childhood when his uncle had asked the same. The little Alex had pondered the puzzled until one day, when he was staring into the ice box, a case of fridge logic overcame him. That day at supper, he told his uncle the answer and how he came by it. Ian had laughed and laughed, saying he hadn't known the answer until then.
Alex answered with great severity while rolling his eyes, "One."
Smithers chuckled. "Very good, boy! Here's another: Take one out and scratch my head, I am now black but once was red. What am I?"
Alex stopped to think. The idea with riddles was not to overthink everything. Alex glanced around the room taking his mind off the problem so the answer would come to him. His eyes alighted on the table.
"A match, you're a match." Smithers nodded; he was pleased to have a guest so clever.
He asked the last with great sigh, "The following sentence is false. The preceding sentence is true. Are these sentences true or false?" Poor child would have no idea, he thought.
"Paradox." Alex dead panned. He rolled his eyes, trying to minimize the movement.
Smithers gave a hollering laugh. "You're a smart kid! I'll have something for you tomorrow. A reward." Alex really hoped it wasn't haggis.
There was no way to carry that.