[ Holding the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch ]
King Arthur : How does it... um... how does it work?
Sir Lancelot : I know not, my liege.
King Arthur : Consult the Book of Armaments.
Brother Maynard : Armaments, chapter two, verses nine through twenty-one.
Cleric : [ reading ] And Saint Attila raised the hand grenade up on high, saying, "O Lord, bless this thy hand grenade, that with it thou mayst blow thine enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy." And the Lord did grin. And the people did feast upon the lambs and sloths, and carp and anchovies, and orangutans and breakfast cereals, and fruit-bats and large chu...
Brother Maynard : Skip a bit, Brother...
Cleric : And the Lord spake, saying, "First shalt thou take out the Holy Pin. Then shalt thou count to three, no more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards thy foe, who, being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it.
Brother Maynard : Amen.
All : Amen.
King Arthur : Right. One... two... five.
Galahad : Three, sir.
King Arthur : Three.
The Dead Collector : Bring out yer dead.
[ a man puts a body on the cart ]
Large Man with Dead Body : Here's one.
The Dead Collector : That'll be ninepence.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't : I'm not dead.
The Dead Collector : What?
Large Man with Dead Body : Nothing. There's your ninepence.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't : I'm not dead.
The Dead Collector : 'Ere, he says he's not dead.
Large Man with Dead Body : Yes he is.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't : I'm not.
The Dead Collector : He isn't.
Large Man with Dead Body : Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't : I'm getting better.
Large Man with Dead Body : No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment.
The Dead Collector : Well, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't : I don't want to go on the cart.
Large Man with Dead Body : Oh, don't be such a baby.
The Dead Collector : I can't take him.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't : I feel fine.
Large Man with Dead Body : Oh, do me a favor.
The Dead Collector : I can't.
Large Man with Dead Body : Well, can you hang around for a couple of minutes? He won't be long.
The Dead Collector : I promised I'd be at the Robinsons'. They've lost nine today.
Large Man with Dead Body : Well, when's your next round?
The Dead Collector : Thursday.
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't : I think I'll go for a walk.
Large Man with Dead Body : You're not fooling anyone, you know. Isn't there anything you could do?
The Dead Body That Claims It Isn't : I feel happy. I feel happy.
[ the Dead Collector glances up and down the street furtively, then silences the Body with his a whack of his club ]
Large Man with Dead Body : Ah, thank you very much.
The Dead Collector : Not at all. See you on Thursday.
Large Man with Dead Body : Right.
Sir Bedevere : There are ways of telling whether she is a witch.
Peasant 1 : Are there? Oh well, tell us.
Sir Bedevere : Tell me. What do you do with witches?
Peasant 1 : Burn them.
Sir Bedevere : And what do you burn, apart from witches?
Peasant 1 : More witches.
Peasant 2 : Wood.
Sir Bedevere : Good. Now, why do witches burn?
Peasant 3 : ...because they're made of... wood?
Sir Bedevere : Good. So how do you tell whether she is made of wood?
Peasant 1 : Build a bridge out of her.
Sir Bedevere : But can you not also build bridges out of stone?
Peasant 1 : Oh yeah.
Sir Bedevere : Does wood sink in water?
Peasant 1 : No, no, it floats!... It floats! Throw her into the pond!
Sir Bedevere : No, no. What else floats in water?
Peasant 1 : Bread.
Peasant 2 : Apples.
Peasant 3 : Very small rocks.
Peasant 1 : Cider.
Peasant 2 : Gravy.
Peasant 3 : Cherries.
Peasant 1 : Mud.
Peasant 2 : Churches.
Peasant 3 : Lead! Lead!
King Arthur : A Duck.
Sir Bedevere : ...Exactly. So, logically...
Peasant 1 : If she weighed the same as a duck... she's made of wood.
Sir Bedevere : And therefore...
Peasant 2 : ...A witch!