As the Golden Knight Goes

Writing Prompt: There he goes, the golden knight, a man of legends, those fortunate enough to see him on the road will know their journey will be without a single bandit or beast in sight, this is true, but the reason why isn’t quite what you would think.

“By the Almighty Sock, ya big lump o’ good-fer-nothin’ gold wrangler. What did ya go an’ do that fer?”

“Do what for?” the Great Golden Knight leaned down over his horse to better see the frail Old Man on the donkey, “And I think you’re mistaken, it’s the Almighty Sack, not the Sock. The Sock was God Almighty under rule of Empress Foot in the Mouth. She was killed by Sire Well and truly Endowed, the now-named Emperor who presides beneath the Almighty Sack.”

The Old Man on the donkey stared blankly at what was no more than a raging golden circle imprinted on his blurring vision, “I’m blind, yer Almighty Sack o’ sh*t!”

“Well, there’s no need for name calling. Knights have feelings too.” the Golden Knight paused for thought, as if to confirm that he did in fact have feelings, “You know, I read an article once that explained in great detail how men should be able to express their feelings freely without the need for…”

“An’ I’m expressin’ myself freely when I say yer a Toad Flickin’ Son o’ Wench.” the Old Man scowled at the Knight, “Who in Gallygone goes around sporting all that fecking gold anyway?”

“Oh, you mean this old thing.” the Knight puffed out his chest in admiration of his own fine armour, “I won this in the Golden Cities Annual Jousting, Jesting and Jeweling competition. I may not have fared so well in the Jousting… but my skills with fine embroidery certainly helped win the day!”

“An’ the Jesting?” the old man, Jefferson Wingless (Jeffery No-Wings to my friends), was suddenly curious.

“Second rate at best, I’m afraid.” and the Knight, Sire Fair Knickers, was somewhat ashamed of that fact.

“Well go on then,” the Old Man probed, “tell us a joke.”

“Oh, I mustn’t. I’d only embarrass myself.”

“It’s the least yer could do fer blindin’ me.” Jeff set a broad and toothless grin on the Knight.

“Well… alright then.” the Knight coughed, sniffed twice, and adjusted his shoulders as if ready for battle, “Knock, knock.” the Knight waited patiently as an awkward silence fell over the pair, “I said… knock, knock.”

“Eh?” Jefferson shrugged.

“You’re supposed to say, who’s there…”

“I ain’t one fer audience participation. Try a different joke would ya, there’s a good Knight.”

Sire Fair Knickers sighed, muttering a curse (oh bother), before starting again, “Alright, here’s a good one. Do you know why we call it the Dark Ages?”

“Because o’ all the Knights…” Jefferson chuckled.

“My good man, I didn’t think you were up for participating! Now why did you have to go and ruin a perfectly fine joke?”

“Why did ya have to go an’ ruin my perfectly good eyes?” Jefferson spat in response.

The two men glowered at one another for far longer than was necessary… right up until a rather royal looking wagon came rolling on by. Sire Fair Knickers raised a golden glove to salute the humble driver atop the wagon.

“Argh!” the driver croaked, throwing down the horse’s reins to cover his eyes as he screamed “What did you go and do that for?”

“Do what for?” the Knight called in response through cupped hands, rearing up his steed to follow the wagon down into the lake with a…


“Bloody lunatic!” Jefferson cried after the Knight, then with a shake of the head a low laugh he thought… because o’ all the bloody Knights.

Copyright © K R Perry 2019

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