King Lear: How hath my fool offended?
Regan: He hath shagged me roughly, against my will, and finished too soon.
King Lear: By force- Pocket? He isn't eight-stone on a feast day- he couldn't shag a cat by force.
Pocket: That's not true, sire. If the cat is distracted with a trout, then - well, uh, never mind.
American writer of comic fantasy
Christopher Moore (born 1957 in Toledo, Ohio) is an American writer of absurdist fiction.
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Regan: Smell him. He reeks of sex, like fish and mushroom and sweat, doesn't he?
Pocket: Aye, your honor, I'm sure I have an odor about me. I must confess, I was sans trou today in the kitchen, while awaiting my laundry. Bubble had left a casserole out on the floor to cool, and it did trip me and I fell prick-deep in gravy and goo- but I was on my way to chapel at the time.
King Lear: [To Pocket] You put your dick in my lunch?
King Lear: [to the bailiff] The fool put his dick in my lunch?
Regan: No, in your beloved daughter.
King Lear: Quiet, girl! Captain Curran, send a guard to watch the bread and the cheese before the fool has his way with it.
This book you've read is just a story. I made it up. It is not designed to change anyone's beliefs or worldview, unless after reading it you've decided to be kinder to your fellow humans (which is okay), or you decide you really would like to teach yoga to an elephant, in which case, please get videotape.