Your mother eats fungus from the feet of lepers. - Christopher Moore

Gentle spook, if it is a warning you bring, state it true. If action you require, ask outright. If music you must make, play on- but by the wine-stained balls of Bacchus, speak your bloody business quick and clear and then be gone, before Time's iron tongue licks away my mercy bonk with second thoughts!

The Ghost: I'm sorry to haunt you while you're rogering the help.
Pocket: The rogering has not commenced, wisp. I have barely bridled the horse for a moist and bawdy ride. Now, go away!

Great heroes have Great horniness.