Don’t you want to know why they call me Lance-a-lot?

I’m known for my thrusting.

No, don’t worry, that’s not infected. It’s supposed to be red.

Your poorly thatched hut or mine?

I’m searching for the Holy Grail. Can I check your pantaloons?

Want to grab something to eat? I know this serf who makes the most amazing gruel.

You’re plague-free, I’m plague-free–we must be destined to meet.

I’m looking for a cave to rest my dragon in.

Why yes, that is a bodkin in my codpiece. I went a-hunting today. But I am happy to see you.

How would you like to sire a bastard? You can tell your friends about it well into your hag years.