The lights came back on and you could see King Harry and Draco 'riding' down a slight slope surrounded by seventh years banging stick into the ground. The same seventh years as seen in the previous scene. King Harry and Draco were following a person pulling a cart full of mud and manure. Music could be heard in the background.
"Old woman!" cried King Harry.
"Man." Said Terry Boot.
"Man. Sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there?" Harry asked.
Terry answered with, "I'm thirty-seven."
"I - What?" Harry looked confused.
"I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old."
"Well, I can't just call you 'Man'."
"Well, you could say 'Dennis'."
"Well, I didn't know you were called 'Dennis'."
"Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?"
"I did say 'Sorry' about the 'Old Woman', but from behind you looked ..."
"What I object to, is that you automatically treat me like an inferior!" Terry argued.
"Well, I am King!" Harry argued back.
"Oh, King, eh, very nice. And how d'you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers! By 'anging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. If there's ever going to be any progress with the..."
"Dennis, there's some lovely filth down here." Susan Bones said coming into the scene. "Oh! How d'you do?" she said to Harry seeing him standing there.
"How do you do, good lady? I am Harry, King of the Britons. Who's castle is that?" Harry asked Susan.
"King of the who?" Susan asked, puzzled.
"The Britons." Harry explained.
"Who are the Britons?"
"Well, we all are. We are all Britons, and I am your king."
"I didn't know we had a king. I thought we were an autonomous collective." Susan exclaimed.
"You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictatorship: a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working class ..." Terry interjected.
"Oh, there you go bringing class into it again." Susan rolled her eyes.
"That's what it's all about. If only people would hear of ..."
"Please! Please, good people. I am in haste. Who lives in that castle?" Harry barged in angrily.
"No one lives there." Susan said looking at him curling her lip up.
"Then who is your lord?"
"We don't have a lord."
"What?"
"I told you." Terry answered "We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive Officer for the Week,..."
"Yes" Harry said.
"...but all the decisions of that Officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting..."
"Yes, I see." Harry said clearly wishing he would shut up. In the background you could see Draco rolling his eyes.
"...by a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs,..." Terry continued only pausing for air.
"Be quiet!" Harry yelled.
"...but a two-thirds majority in the case of more major..."
"Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!"
"Order, eh? Who does he think he is? Heh." Susan barged in.
"I am your king!" Harry said again.
"Well, I didn't vote for you." Susan exclaimed.
"You don't vote for kings." Harry explained.
"Well, how did you become king then?" She asked.
Music starts as Harry says his next lines.
"The Giant Squid of the Lake, it's tentacles clad in the purest shimmering scales, held aloft Godric Gryffindor's Sword from the bosom of the water signifying by Divine Providence that I, Harry, was to carry Gryffindor's Sword." The music stops and Harry cries, "That is why I am your king!"
Terry waved his arms about saying, "Listen. Strange animals lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a Mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."
"Be quiet!"
"Well, you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some watery squid threw a sword at you!" Terry argued.
"Shut up!"
"I mean, if I went 'round saying I was an emperor just because some moistened beast had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!"
"Shut up, will you? Shut up!" Harry said taking Terry and shaking him like a rag doll.
"Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system." Terry shouted.
"Shut up!"
"Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help! Help! I'm being repressed!"
"Bloody peasant!" Harry said, pushing him as he let go.
"Oh, what a give-away. Did you hear that? Did you hear that, eh? That's what I'm on about. Did you see him repressing me? You saw it, didn't you?" Terry said to several of the seventh year students.
The lights went out and the audience was laughing so hard some of them were on the floor rolling in the aisles.
"Old woman!" cried King Harry.
"Man." Said Terry Boot.
"Man. Sorry. What knight lives in that castle over there?" Harry asked.
Terry answered with, "I'm thirty-seven."
"I - What?" Harry looked confused.
"I'm thirty-seven. I'm not old."
"Well, I can't just call you 'Man'."
"Well, you could say 'Dennis'."
"Well, I didn't know you were called 'Dennis'."
"Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?"
"I did say 'Sorry' about the 'Old Woman', but from behind you looked ..."
"What I object to, is that you automatically treat me like an inferior!" Terry argued.
"Well, I am King!" Harry argued back.
"Oh, King, eh, very nice. And how d'you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers! By 'anging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. If there's ever going to be any progress with the..."
"Dennis, there's some lovely filth down here." Susan Bones said coming into the scene. "Oh! How d'you do?" she said to Harry seeing him standing there.
"How do you do, good lady? I am Harry, King of the Britons. Who's castle is that?" Harry asked Susan.
"King of the who?" Susan asked, puzzled.
"The Britons." Harry explained.
"Who are the Britons?"
"Well, we all are. We are all Britons, and I am your king."
"I didn't know we had a king. I thought we were an autonomous collective." Susan exclaimed.
"You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictatorship: a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working class ..." Terry interjected.
"Oh, there you go bringing class into it again." Susan rolled her eyes.
"That's what it's all about. If only people would hear of ..."
"Please! Please, good people. I am in haste. Who lives in that castle?" Harry barged in angrily.
"No one lives there." Susan said looking at him curling her lip up.
"Then who is your lord?"
"We don't have a lord."
"What?"
"I told you." Terry answered "We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive Officer for the Week,..."
"Yes" Harry said.
"...but all the decisions of that Officer have to be ratified at a special bi-weekly meeting..."
"Yes, I see." Harry said clearly wishing he would shut up. In the background you could see Draco rolling his eyes.
"...by a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs,..." Terry continued only pausing for air.
"Be quiet!" Harry yelled.
"...but a two-thirds majority in the case of more major..."
"Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!"
"Order, eh? Who does he think he is? Heh." Susan barged in.
"I am your king!" Harry said again.
"Well, I didn't vote for you." Susan exclaimed.
"You don't vote for kings." Harry explained.
"Well, how did you become king then?" She asked.
Music starts as Harry says his next lines.
"The Giant Squid of the Lake, it's tentacles clad in the purest shimmering scales, held aloft Godric Gryffindor's Sword from the bosom of the water signifying by Divine Providence that I, Harry, was to carry Gryffindor's Sword." The music stops and Harry cries, "That is why I am your king!"
Terry waved his arms about saying, "Listen. Strange animals lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a Mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony."
"Be quiet!"
"Well, you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some watery squid threw a sword at you!" Terry argued.
"Shut up!"
"I mean, if I went 'round saying I was an emperor just because some moistened beast had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!"
"Shut up, will you? Shut up!" Harry said taking Terry and shaking him like a rag doll.
"Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system." Terry shouted.
"Shut up!"
"Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help! Help! I'm being repressed!"
"Bloody peasant!" Harry said, pushing him as he let go.
"Oh, what a give-away. Did you hear that? Did you hear that, eh? That's what I'm on about. Did you see him repressing me? You saw it, didn't you?" Terry said to several of the seventh year students.
The lights went out and the audience was laughing so hard some of them were on the floor rolling in the aisles.
