SC - Ian Gourdon <agincort at raex.com>: [Archery]: An Archers Potluck
melc2newton at juno.com
melc2newton at juno.com
Sun Jan 24 09:05:57 PST 1999
- --------- Begin forwarded message ----------
From: Ian Gourdon <agincort at raex.com>
To: Multiple recipients of list SCA-ARCHERY <SCA-ARCHERY at wyvernhall.com>
Subject: [Archery]: An Archers Potluck
Date: Sat, 23 Jan 1999 21:37:34 -0500
Message-ID: <36AA876E.1E6F158B at raex.com>
References: <36A09714.FFA at pcisys.net> <36AA568E.52A3E14 at forbin.com>
The Archers Potluck in Gwyntarian - in the style of the Cheese Shop
by Monty Python
[a customer walks in the door]
Customer:Good Morning.
Owner: Good morning, Sir. Welcome to the Chee...
Gwyntarian Archers Guild!
Customer: Ah, thank you, my good man.
Owner: What can I do for you, Sir?
C: Well, I was, uh, sitting in the public library on Thurmon
Street just now, skimming through "Rogue Herrys" by Hugh
Walpole, and I suddenly came over all peckish. A bit the way
William the B..
Conqueror aquired a certain ah, hunger for the fair isles
of Brittain...
O: Peckish, sir?
C: Esuriant.
O: Eh?
C: 'Ee, Ah wor 'ungry-loike! 'Ungry as only an harcher gets
'ungry!
O: Ah, hungry!
C: In a nutshell. And I thought to myself, "a little fermented
curd will do the trick," so, I curtailed my Walpoling
activites, sallied forth, and infiltrated your place of
purveyance to
negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles!
O: Come again?
C: I want to buy some cheese, and attend your potluck and
talk about archery.
O: Oh, I thought you were complaining about the bazouki player!
C: Oh, heaven forbid: I am one who delights in all manifestations
of the Terpsichorean muse! Even a song by Richard I, who was slain
by a crossbow bolt, if I recall...
O: Sorry?
C: 'Ooo, Ah lahk a nice tuune, 'yer forced too!
O: So he can go on playing, can he?
C: Most certainly! Now then, some cheese please, my good man. Or a
meat pie. At the potluck.
O: (lustily) Certainly, sir. What would you like?
C: Well, eh, how about a little red Leicester.
O: I'm, a-fraid we're fresh out of red Leicester, sir.
C: Oh, never mind, how are you on Tilsit?
O: I'm afraid we never have that at the end of the week, sir, we
get it fresh on Monday. Gone like a French levy by Thursday.
C: Tish tish. No matter. Well, stout yeoman, four ounces of
Caerphilly, if you please. And how about that Battaile
of Agincourt, eh?
O: Ah! It's beeeen on order, sir, for two weeks. Was expecting
it this morning. An, yessir, quite the little fracas, as
I remember.
C: 'T's Not my lucky day, is it? Aah, Bel Paese?
O: Sorry, sir.
C: Red Windsor?
O: Normally, sir, yes. Today the van broke down. Not quite
like "our Kingdom for a cheese wagon", but we try.
C: Ah. Stilton?
O: Sorry.
C: Ementhal? Gruyere?
O: No. But, as I recall there were quite a few Welsh archers, at
that battle. Not any Welsh cheese though, I shouldn't think.
C: Any Norweigan Jarlsburg, per chance.
O: No.
C: Lipta?
O: No.
C: Lancashire? Welsh Leek?
O: No.
C: White Stilton? I don't suppose you have any Irish Clann special?
O: No.
C: Danish Brew? Canadian Moose cheese?
O: No.
C: Double Goucester?
O: No.
C: Cheshire? Any Chesire longbowmen grinning away at Halidon Hill?
O: No. I suppose not. Perhaps next time.
C: Dorset Bluveny?
O: No.
C: Brie, Roquefort, Pol le Veq, Port Salut, Savoy Aire, Saint
Paulin, Carrier de lest, Bres Bleu, Bruson? Any Italian
hired crossbowmen?
O: No. Not that I recall.
C: Camenbert, perhaps?
O: Ah! We have Camenbert, yessir. Just like the French were eating
before the Battaile of Crecy, as I have been assured.
C: (suprised) You do! Excellent.
O: Yessir. It's..ah,.....it's a bit runny... not Hallidon Hill,
but....
C: Oh, I like it runny.
O: Well,.. It's very runny, actually, sir. Sort of the way the
French ran away at Agincourt.
C: No matter. Fetch hither the fromage de la Belle France! Mmmwah!
O: I...think it's a bit runnier than you'll like it, sir.
Likely, it's runnier than the Daughphin's horse, about now.
C: I don't care how fucking runny it is. Hand it over with all
speed. I feel like like Henry V, when he asked for his
estates back.
O: Oooooooooohhh........!
C: What now?
O: The cat's eaten it.
C: Has he.
O: She, sir. We call her Katherine, after the French Princess,
you know.
(pause)
C: Gouda?
O: No.
C: Edam? Were the Lowlanders archers, then?
O: No, sir, I don't believe so.
C: Case Ness? Any Scottish shortbows?
O: No.
C: Smoked Austrian? That hasn't run away like the french, has it?
O: No.
C: Japanese Sage Darby?
O: No, sir.
C: You...do *have* some cheese, don't you?
O: (brightly) Of course, sir. It's a cheese sh..., I mean a Guild
Potluck sir. We've got-- Well, it's a little like the Battle
of Harfleur, where King Henry was quoted as saying:"...
C: No no... don't tell me. I'm keen to guess. The Potluck is at
Ancels, 3ish, Sunday (thats tomorrow) bring something to
share, wait I'll guess the rest, you'll be talking about archery,
drinking god knows what, and eating... well, probably NOT eating
any cheese! Unless Nigel brings some. I guess I'll just have to
go there for my cheese. It's only the yearly meeting! I suppose
you'll even be there, eh?
O: Oh, yes, it's staggeringly popular in this manusquire. And
anyone is welcome, even Mongols, with their Koumis cheese, really.
He lives at 209 Oakdale, Akron (that's near west side, off W.
Market), and you can call him at 535-5406 if you're
still confused... how's that?
C: Would it be worth it?
O: Could be....
- --
Ian Gourdon of Glen Awe
- - Companion of the order of the Greenwood Company
http://web.raex.com/~agincort
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