THE MYTHS AND LEGENDS OF KING ARTHUR AND THE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE

So after many sore trials and adventures, Sir Rick fell seke of a grete maladye and did falleth to the erthe clutching sore his herte. This attack of the herte slew hym not. And therewith Sir Rick began his quest to compose a masterpiece of cheese and magnificence before he falleth to the erthe dede.

In his sore state he dreamed of Kynge Arthur and his swerde, Excalibur, ryding on a palferey to a fanfare of grete cheese.

And Sir Rick dreamed of the fayre Guinivere all shimmering and awash in cheese though still the beautifullist and most fayre of all maidens. And for want of her fayre beauty, Sir Rick by gods grace did play upon a moog synthe an ode to the fayre Queen and did thus redeem hymself from cheese.

Still In his sore state, and all fevered, Sir Rick saw in visions most dreadful The Black Knyght upon a palferey, and Sir Launcelot did strake hem downe to the erthe after which the Black Knyght did ride deep into the forest with his hede all blody, and accompanied to music of much pomp and cheese.

On the Fifth day, Sir Rick did dream of Merlyn the grete magician. And did write a comedic ditty in the manner of Benny Hill, all in honour of Merlyn. Thenne by the grace of Jesu and God, Sir Rick did play mighty and low upon his moog synthe and did thus receive god's blessying and redemption.

Fighting the fever that was still upon him, Sir Rick saw visions of Sir Galahad, who was begatt by Lancelot and the fayre Elaine one night when Sir Lancelot was so drunke he did but think the fayre Elaine was none other than Queen Guinivere. Sir Rick did see fit to tell the tale of the grete Bastyrd, Sir Galahad, by setting it to calypso music. Layed low by fever, Sir Ricks musical judgement was most certainly more impaired than usual.

In sore distress and at the hight of his fever, Sir Rick donned his cape of Ermine and Gold and did write his last grete homage to the lost days of chivalry, 'The Last Battle'. A plaintive ditty the likes of which had never before been heard throught the whole of Englond and Beyond. All cheese and pomp, it's enough to make a brave knyght wepe sore. And Sir Rick did play one last grete synthe solo to the accompaniment of what sounds like The Mike Sam Singers - "do-be-do-be-do. Do-be-do-be-do." Jesu Mercy!

So it was done as Sir Rick had devised. A grete edifice of cheese; the greatest that ever there was.( except maybe for Jeff Wayne's 'War of The Worlds') The mighty tales of Arthur and his brave knyghts reduced to forty-five minutes of cheese and a few goodly but samey synthe solos. A prog underpiece of considerable absurdity. BUT BY JEUS' BLOOD, I WOULDN'T BE WITHOUT IT.

A short while after Rick's recovery, he suffered a relapse, and in a state of utter delirium, he believed that the adventures of Arthur and his knights actually took place, and was insistent that everyone in those days wore ice skates. . .even the horses. JESU, SAVE US!

You have been reading the ramblings of ThE mEnTaLiSt