Long ago, in the days when Keith Richards was only in his early twenties, there lay the peaceful kingdom of England, ruled from the capitol of Louie’s Used Camel Lot. This was a faraway setting.

Louie’s Used Camel Lot sold slightly used camels at discount prices. But there was more to it than that. Many people lived within its borders, and were ruled by a great king, King Archer.

King Archer, who had risen to the throne by nailing the previous king’s head to the floor, did his best to rule justly. He had a great order of knights, known throughout all of Europe. The mere mention of their name would bring a chill to an evildoer, a thrill to a peasant, and a great happiness to anyone who studied geometry. They were the Knights of the Largish Rhombus Table.

They included Sir Kills-a-lot, Sir Pure, Sir Bores, Sir Eats-a-lot, Sir Ican the Butler, and King Archer himself. They were very noble heroes.

We join our heroes as they are riding in the forest near Louie’s Used Camel Lot…

"Oh, how I do like the green grass of our pristine land. It pains me how the environment is being messed up," said Sir Bores, in a monotone.

"Shut up, AL," yelled Sir Kills-a-lot. "You were named Sir Bores for a reason. You could put anything to sleep."

"Calm down," said King Archer good-naturedly.

"ARCHER! ARCHER! KING OF THE CAMEL DEALERS!"

"Who said that," asked all the knights in unison.

"But how will I recognize it, O Lord," asked King Archer.

"Thank you, Lord," said Sir Pure, with admiration. "I passionately love you."

"YOU’RE WELCOME, AND YES, YOU DO PASSIONATELY LOVE ME. THAT BRINGS THE COUNT TO 5, INCLUDING LIGHTHEARTED IN TONE, FARAWAY SETTINGS, NOBLE HEROES, SUPERNATURAL EVENTS, AND PASSIONATE LOVE. AND ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT IT IS NOT ENOUGH TO FIND THE CUP, YOU MUST THEN PAY $1.99 FOR IT. OTHERWISE IT WOULD BE STEALING," said the Lord, and then the voice was gone just as mysteriously as it had come.

After the Lord left, everyone went back to King Archer’s castle, and sat down at the Table.

"Where do you think we can find this ‘Holy Lord of the Rings Cup that can be found at Burger King for $1.99 for a Limited Time,’" asked Sir Eats-a-lot, stupidly.

"I know not," replied King Archer, just as stupidly. Nobody spoke for five minutes, as each of them thought about their holy quest. Finally, Sir Kills-a-lot broke the silence.

"I don’t really care where we find it, as long as I get to kill someone. I haven’t killed anyone in days. I’m about to go crazy." Sir Ican coughed the words "Too late," and proceeded to dust the Table.

No one spoke for several more minutes, until Sir Pure shattered the silence.

"After much thought, I am of the conclusion that we could find it a Burger King," he suggested, amidst laughter from the other knights. Sir Kills-a-lot slapped his knees with his gauntlets so hard he probably got permanent bruises, Sir Ican tipped his chair backward, and everyone else laughed so hard that they got the Table, which Sir Ican had just cleaned, covered with spit. Sir Ican groaned, both with pain from hitting his head on the hard stone floor, and at the fact that he now had to clean the Table again. He didn’t like cleaning the Table, because, as we have established, it was largish and oddly shaped. Nevertheless, he got a cloth and some water and started cleaning it.

"As stupid as that idea of us finding the ‘Holy Lord of the Rings cup that can be found at Burger King for $1.99 for a Limited Time’ at a Burger King is, I still wouldn’t mind going to one. I’m very hungry, and the food there is good," said Sir Eats-a-lot.

"You’re always hungry. Besides, I’d rather eat at McDonald’s," said Sir Kills-a-lot.

"No, I think we should eat at Subway," argued Sir Ican.

"Tough! At Burger King, you can have it your way," said Sir Eats-a-lot.

"Big deal! At Mickeydee’s, they love to see you smile!"

"I don’t care! At Subway, you can eat fresh!"

"I personally don’t want to eat at any of those places," said Sir Bores, in his usual Ben Stein-like voice.

"And where do you want to eat," asked Sir Pure.

"I think we should eat here, and have soyburgers and corrugated cardboard," Sir Bores replied. Everyone stared at him.

"For one thing, how can you tell the difference between soyburgers and cardboard," asked King Archer. Everyone snickered and waited for his answer.

"I can’t," he replied. Everyone stared at him again. They hadn’t been expecting that. They expected some snappy, but boring answer.

"You’re weird," said Sir Ican.

"Don’t even talk," commanded Sir Eats-a-lot.

"Let me handle this," said Sir Kills-a-lot, and ran his sword through Sir Bores. "Keep in mind that that was lighthearted."

"Yes it was. Now I say we go to Hardee’s, and I’m the king, so we go to Hardee’s," said King Archer. At that, everyone but Sir Pure said a few terrible words of his choice.

So they all went to Hardee’s, where they had delicious double cheeseburgers and curly fries. They all liked them, and thanked King Archer for taking them to Hardee’s. And they forgot all about Sir Pure’s ridiculous suggestion of finding the "Holy Lord of the Rings cup" at a Burger King. They also kept in mind that the last paragraph was episodic, and that there would be many more examples of it in this story.

As they all headed back to the castle, a strange man appeared at the side of the road. It was Sir Bores.

"Sir Bores! We thought you were dead," they all exclaimed.

"I was, but I’ve been resurrected with an ‘Instant Plot Device (Just Add Water)! The author had much more in store for me!"

"Well, isn’t that enough to make a man go crazy! Here I went to all the trouble of killing you, and now you’re back, talking to us. Oh, it makes me mad. Mad. MAD. MAD! MAD, yelled Sir Kills-a-lot, and cut down several trees in his anger.

"I think my brother needs a timeout," said Sir Eats-a-lot.

"I think you’re right," replied Sir Ican. So they put Sir Kills-a-lot, with great difficulty, into a straitjacket, and threw him into an empty room in the castle when they got there. They all knew that his code of honor was skewed, but at least he had one, so they didn’t kick him off. They didn’t want another More Dread…

Sir More Dread was a skilled knight, and was once a member of the Knights of the Largish Rhombus Table. While there, he was more bloodthirsty than even Sir Kills-a-lot, and had to be kept in a cage. When they fought a battle, they would let him out, and he would wreak havoc with the enemy forces.

He was also his own grandpa, and the inbreeding made him phenomenally stupid. For instance, if he read that last sentence, assuming he could read, he wouldn’t think "Did he spell phenomenally right?" He would think "Grr! Grrr! I hate that guy! He’s writing about me! He called me stupid! I’ll kill him! Kill! Kill! Kill! Arrrrgggghhhh!"

Eventually, Sir More Dread had become violent enough to break his cage, and rampaged through the castle. By the time he was restrained, he had killed many nameless peons, as well as Sir Loren, the Unfunny Humorist, who, while weak in battle, was not well liked. Okay, so it wasn’t whom he killed, but the very fact that he killed, that made the other knights mad. But before the other knights could formally read him his Miranda Rights and then execute him without trial, he escaped. He also forced a page to write a goodbye note for him. Here is what it had to say:

He had not been heard from since, and it was believed that, being by himself for too long, he had challenged himself to a duel, and won and lost at the same time.

After Sir Kills-a-lot was done with his timeout, they took him out of the straitjacket, made him promise to be good for at least a few hours, and talked about various things until night.

That night, Sir Pure couldn’t sleep. He didn’t usually have insomnia, but something about the day was keeping him awake. Something important, he seemed to recall. But he just couldn’t remember what the important thing was. Just as he was about to forget about it and summon Sir Bores to put him to sleep, he remembered: The Holy Grail! Wait, that wasn’t right. The "Holy Lord of the Rings cup that can be found at Burger King for $1.99 for a Limited Time!"

Excitedly he sprung out of bed, and tore down the hall. He woke up everyone but Sir Ican, who was already awake, and cleaning his room. No one was very happy about being rudely awakened. In fact, Sir Kills-a-lot became, you won’t believe it, violent, and had to be restrained again. When they were all awake or calmed down, Sir Pure told them why he had gotten them up.

"I know a lot happened yesterday, but do any of you remember what happened while we were riding outside the Camel Lot?"

"No, I think we’d remember if anything important had happened yesterday," said King Archer.

"All I remember is that we went to Hardee’s, and the food was good," said Sir Eats-a-lot.

"Yes, but that wasn’t your first choice. Do you remember where you wanted to eat?"

"Ummmmm… I wanted to eat at Burger King," replied Sir Eats-a-lot.

"And why did you want to eat there," asked Sir Pure.

"Because… Because you suggested finding the Holy Grail there," exclaimed Sir Eats-a-lot.

"Not the Holy Grail," corrected Sir Bores, who remembered now.

"The ‘Holy Lord of the Rings cup that can be found at Burger King for $1.99 for a Limited Time,’" said Sir Ican.

"Exactly right. I think it’s pretty important if God himself told us to do it," Sir Pure said.

"Okay, but in the morning. Go back to bed, everyone," ordered King Archer.

As they all went back to bed, God looked on. He was pleased that Sir Pure had remembered his command, but frustrated that all the rest had forgotten because they had a really good fast-food lunch. In God’s opinion, no fast-food lunch, however good, was more memorable than his commands.

In the morning, they all got ready to leave on their holy quest. Sir Pure made a note in his Quest Logbook, fetched his squire, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As he entered the Great Hall, he saw the knights putting on their armor. Everyone was wearing plate armor with a chain mail suit underneath, and a surcoat with a large rhombus emblazoned on it. Technically, at the period in time where King Arthur legends are typically set, they should only have chain mail, but this is my story, and I’m exercising my creative license, so BACK OFF! They also put on a sword and a dagger. King Archer’s magical sword, .45Caliber, was brought to him as Sir Pure sat down for his breakfast.

As Sir Pure ate his breakfast, King Archer strapped on .45Caliber, and started bleeding profusely.

"Hey, stupid squire, this is the wrong magic scabbard for .45Caliber! I’m supposed to never bleed, not always bleed," yelled King Archer, obviously in pain.

"I’m sorry! Please don’t hold it against me! It’s not my fault," wailed the squire, and started to cry.

"Blimey, man! Pull yourself together," yelled Sir Kills-a-lot.

"Yeah. We can’t take you if you’re going to act like that," said Sir Ican.

"Okay. I’m better now," sniffled the squire.

"Good," everyone said. They didn’t want to bring a crybaby on a quest that would probably take them years.

Sir Pure finished his breakfast and started putting on his armor. When they all had their armor on, they went to the barracks and picked up the regular infantry they were bringing along. They didn’t really want to bring the infantry, because then they would have to move slower, but they needed infantry support because there weren’t that many knights. (There weren’t many knights because I couldn’t think of any more puns on the knight’s names or personalities.) When they had all their infantry support, they left on their quest.

They weren’t very far on their holy quest before they hit a snag. It was while they were fishing for their dinner. (Rimshot) Okay, I admit that that pun was stupid, but technically the statement was true. As they were fishing, they were being watched. Watched by hostile eyes…

Those hostile eyes were no more hostile than the rest of the body they belonged to, which was the body of Lenny Joe Johnson, former mercenary, and once a rival camel dealer, as well. For far too long, his financial dreams had been foiled by that blasted King Archer.

Lenny Joe would have been a very nice person if he had the job he wanted, which was humor writer. But when his father died, he had to take over the family camel dealership. And so, his aspirations of being the next Dave Barry or Douglas Adams went straight down the drain. He had done okay at his camel dealership at first, but then Archer opened Louie’s Used Camel Lot. Since Archer was king, he could afford to sell camels at much lower prices than poor Lenny could ever afford. Not surprisingly, even people who lived close to him preferred to go the extra day’s walk and pay less.

With his camel dealership nearly bankrupt, Lenny sold it and decided to become a mercenary. Being a mercenary was actually a fun profession for him, because he could take his aggression out on his enemies. Unfortunately, his expenses often outweighed the pay he received. The things a mercenary were expected to have included a suit of armor, a horse, a lance, a sword, and a subscription to Soldier of Fortune Magazine. All this cost a lot of money, and although he was aggressive, he wasn’t a good fighter, so he rarely made a profit. Also, all his mercenary friends were killed. After that, he became a wayward ruffian, robbing people traveling on the road to Louie’s Used Camel Lot.

But now, he had more than mere thievery in mind. He had never seen King Archer, but he was no fool. These knights were wearing surcoats with large rhombuses emblazoned on them. He would guess that the knight closest to him, with a more elaborate surcoat and a much fancier sword and scabbard was King Archer. In his mind, he formed a plan for a very daring deed. Stealthily, he got out his longbow. He notched an arrow in it, and slowly drew back the bowstring. He lined up his shot, and with a shout, released it. S L O W L Y, like in the Matrix, the arrow flew through the air, spinning as it went. Lenny’s expression was frozen in one of triumph. King Archer noticed it as it flew toward him, and his expression changed to one of fear. Slowly, in bullet-time, the arrow flew towards Archer, getting closer and closer…

It flew 10 feet over Archer’s shoulder and hit one of the many archers they had brought, who was on the other side of the lake.

Realizing that his carefully lined-up shot had missed, Lenny yelled expletives, not realizing, in his anger, that he was giving away his position. He notched another arrow and prepared to fire again, but then he noticed that all the knights were heading his way and a barrage of arrows was flying at his position. Quickly, dodging the arrows, he put his bow away, yelled "I’ll be back," jumped on his horse, and got out of there as fast as he could.

"Who was that," asked Sir Ican.

"I know not. But I have a feeling we’ll see him again," replied King Archer.

The knights continued on their holy quest for 7 years, eating at convenient fast-food restaurants, but never at Burger King. Through the years, Sir Pure insisted they look for the cup in a Burger King, and all the other knights continued laughing at his preposterous idea. They had had a fairly boring 7 years, except for all the uprisings they helped put down. These uprisings were caused by the widespread feeling among the peasants that there was no longer a government, which was in turn caused by the fact that King Archer had been gone for 7 years. The knights had become disheartened in about the 5^th year, and after the 25^th uprising they helped put down. We join our heroes on a sunny day in June.

"I still think we should check in a Burger King"

"We’re not interested in your stupid idea, Sir Pure," answered King Archer.

Suddenly, armored figures appeared at the crest of the next hill. All of them carried white flags, and trotted over to King Archer.

"Who are you," asked King Archer.

"My name is Lenny Joe Johnson. I was a camel dealer, and you ruined my business. I was a mercenary, and I wasn’t very good, but your allies killed most of my friends. You ruined my life, and I never got the chance to write humorous short stories. I hate you. My mercenaries and I will kill you and your feeble Knights of the Largish Rhombus Table."

"Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, but that’s the fortunes of business and war," King Archer replied sensibly.

"I don’t care! I’ll kill you all and dance on your bodies!"

"My opponent’s policy of killing us would only benefit the top 1% of society," said Sir Bores.

"Shut up, AL," yelled Sir Kills-a-lot. "Personally, I have no problem with that. This should be fun. Killing knights is much more fun than killing anarchist peasants."

"Okay, we have made our choice. Defend thyself, knave," yelled King Archer.

And so the battle began. The infantry fought better than would be expected, considering they were brought along as cannon fodder. Sir Eats-a-lot was using his big belly to bounce foes onto his squire’s pike. Sir Ican, whose main talent, other than cleaning, was fighting, was killing all comers. Sir Pure, who was a fierce warrior monk, was also doing well. Sir Bores bored his enemies to death. King Archer was using .45Caliber to hack off entire limbs at the slightest touch. But Sir Kills-a-lot, energized by pure bloodlust, was cutting a swath on the battlefield. Soon, the one remaining, heavily injured mercenary ran away as fast as he could. All the other mercenaries, and many of Archer’s infantrymen, lay dead. Tragically, Sir Bores was not killed. Sir Ican had the unenviable job of counting the dead. While he was counting the casualties, the rest of the knights and infantry treated their wounds.

"How bad are all of your wounds," King Archer asked his men.

Through this, he learned that all of the remaining troops were either unscathed or only had superficial wounds, but could make it.

"What about you? Are you injured, my liege," asked Sir Pure.

"No, I’m alright. I have the magic scabbard so I can’t be hurt in battle, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Why can’t we all have those?"

"Because this sword is the symbol of power, and besides that, if we all had them, it would totally ruin the drama. Now quiet, here comes Sir Ican," said Sir Eats-a-lot, saving Archer from answering.

"53 of our infantry and 107 of our enemy are dead," reported Sir Ican.

"I demand a recount," yelled Sir Bores.

"Shut up, AL," sir Kills-a-lot yelled. "He already counted. Having him count again is not going to change anything."

"Sir Kills-a-lot is right. No recounts for you, Sir Bores. Let’s go," commanded King Archer.

I DEMAND we go to Burger King. NOW," screamed Sir Pure.

"No, we won’t go to Burger King," decided King Archer.

"Oh, come on, let’s just go and show him that he’s wrong. What harm can it possibly do," asked Sir Ican. Sir Pure smiled. Finally, someone else wanted to go to Burger King, even if they just wanted to prove him wrong.

"Yeah, he’s right. What harm can it do? Besides, battle has made me hungry," Sir Eats-a-lot said.

"You’re always hungry. But I wouldn’t mind going to Burger King either," said Sir Kills-a-lot.

"I concur," Sir Bores said.

"FINE! We’ll go to Burger King, and then we’ll see that what Sir Pure has insisted on for 7 years is wrong! Let’s go," King Archer commanded, angrily. He was mad that his knights had chosen to listen to Sir Pure instead of him.

And so, hungrily, triumphantly, and angrily, they headed to the nearest Burger King.

In the line at Burger King, Sir Pure could scarcely contain his excitement. Not only was he going to get the Holy Lord of the Rings cup, but he was also going to be proved right about what he had insisted, and been ridiculed for, for 7 years. When it was his turn, he strode to the cashier and said "Excuse me, but do you sell any Lord of the Rings cups here?"

The cashier looked up at him, confused. He remembered the Lord of the Rings promotion, but it had ended a long time ago. But he also saw the desperation on Sir Pure’s face. He had to help him. So he cleared his throat, and said, "Uh, we did, but that promotion ended about 6½ years ago."

Sir Pure’s heart sank. Of course there weren’t any. Why hadn’t he thought of it? It said in the name that it was only available for a limited time. However, they still needed it, and still could find it. This just made things harder.

"Do you know where we can find any? Specifically, one with a picture of Gandalf, and a halo?"

"I don’t, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one like that. Would you like to talk to the manager?"

"Yes, let’s talk to the manager. He’ll help us straighten this out."

"Okay, follow me," said the pimply-faced, squeaky-voiced cashier, and took them to the manager.

"What seems to be the problem," asked the manager.

"We have this quest. 7 years ago, we began our search for the ‘Holy Lord of the Rings cup that can be found at Burger King for $1.99 for a Limited Time.’ Sir Pure here suggested we look in a Burger King, but we wouldn’t listen to him until today. The specific cup we search for has a picture of Gandalf and a halo. Did it get sold," asked King Archer.

"Hey, you’re in luck! While it did get sold, I remember selling it, because it was so weird, with the halo and all. We sold it to a man who comes here a lot. His name is Norman V. Bloodvessel III, and he collects Lord of the Rings memorabilia. I think he lives in the north part of town, directly next to the apothecary"

And so the knights thanked the manager, and bought triple cheeseburgers, fries, and drinks. As they ate, they all talked about how lucky they were that they had finally listened to Sir Pure, and also gone to this particular Burger King, while Sir Pure gloated. When they were done eating, they went to Norman’s house. It was a dump, and seemed to be the ugliest structure in all of England. Shaking aside their obvious disgust, they knocked on the door. A short, scrawny man answered it.

"Are you Norman V. Bloodvessel," asked Sir Eats-a-lot.

"Yes, I am. And who are you guys?"

"We’re the Knights of the Largish Rhombus Table. We came here because we have an interest in something of yours," said Sir Ican.

"Oh really? And what would you be willing to pay me for my cooperation," asked the surprisingly smug collector.

"Are you saying we have to pay for something, even though I want it," asked Archer indignantly.

"Yes, of course. Do you think you’re King Archer or something"

"That’s precisely who I am." Norman turned pale.

"I’m sorry, my king. I didn’t know. Please don’t kill me!"

"Relax, I won’t kill you. Now give us the Lord of the Rings cup you bought 7 years ago. The one with the picture of Gandalf and a halo," ordered King Archer.

"Anything you say. I’ll go get it," said Norman, and he left. In a minute, he returned with the cup, and handed it to King Archer.

"Thank you. If you ever need a camel, go to Louie’s Used Camel Lot, and we’ll give you a free one. Goodbye," said King Archer, and then they left.

On their long way to Louie’s Used Camel Lot, none of them could take their eyes off of their new prize. The prize they had been searching for 7 years for. The prize they got by finally listening to Sir Pure. One word was on all their tongues, and it was this: Hooray! So, cheering and looking at the cup, they rode off into the sunset.

The End

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