The rotund lord sat at his dinning table, waiting for his servants to come with his regal meal. They were terribly late and the only way he could keep his mind off of his hunger was to think of new laws for his subjects.
“Where are they,” he grumbled, “If I am not attended to soon, I shall have to punish them all.”
Fed up with waiting, the lord stood and went back to the kitchens. No one was there so he went out the exit. He found himself among his servants, who were all clamored around a man with no arms or legs in black armor. “I’m the Black Knight,” the stump man shouted.
“How can you be a knight if all your limbs ‘ave been chopped off?”
“How many times am I going to have to say this,” the knight cried in fury, “It’s only a flesh wound!”
The lord stepped through the crowd of servants, anouncing himself grandly to the agitated knight,"I am the lord of this castle; what brings you to my door, disrupting my servants at their work waiting on me hand and foot?"
"I come here on behalf of King Arthur," the knight said regally, "He requires your assistance."
"Why," the lord shouted angrily, "Isn't it enough that I give him a share of my crops as well as taxes? Why should he need my help? And besides, wasn't he the one who cut your limbs off?"
