Horse’s patootie
One day you're a simple popcorn seller, getting by, doing your thing in a Renaissance fair booth, the next you don't know your ass from your elbow, speaking of which, I've been left feeling like a massive horse's patootie. All I did was pick up a pretty girls handkerchief, one of those drop dead gorgeous types, long blonde hair spilling out from a tall pointy hat, wearing this long floaty dress. She looked straight out of a fairy tale. Not so much the guy with her, clanking along like the Tin Man out of Wizard of Oz, muscles like they were going out of fashion and with his big red angry face he was all 'I challenge ye' and 'I shall avenge my lady's honour' and a load of other Ye Olde Worlde gobbledegook like some guys get after too much sun and too much beer. Next thing I know, two flunkies have me by the shoulders, me still holding the girl's hanky, and they practically carry me along behind the odd couple to some kind of tent. Then they're ramming a helmet on my head and sticking a long, heavy pole in my hand, having removed said hanky first. They're joking between themselves about Gawain's hit rate. I figure out Gawain is the big angry lunk in the metal suit. They put some sort of iron plate on my chest and one flunky says 'I hope you can stay on a horse, mate' and laughs. It's all a big joke to them. They drag me to the side of the tent and this brown nag stands there, looking as thrilled to see me as I am to see it. I start sneezing, naturally, being allergic, and the gee-gee shakes its head, and says neigh like it's disagreeing with me. The two flunkies manhandle me up some steps and somehow I'm in the saddle. I sit there, bemused, not sure what's happening as there's a lot of shouting and cheering and galloping noises going on the other side of the tent. Flunky number one checks round the side and says 'We're up next' though as far as I can see it's just me who's up. 'Look pal, just try to stay on and keep your lance tilted forward'. I try to lift the pole, or lance, whatever - it must weigh a couple of hundred pounds, maybe more. The tip hits the floor and stays there.
