When the laughter had died down, Prince John examined the countenances of his listeners. They were naturally horrified
at how easily the man would betray his own brother and he gave them a curious look.
"Something wrong?" Enquired the pretender to the throne.
"Richard's your brother! How can you do this to your own family?" Trent demanded boldly.
"Richard started it! Oh I'm sure it seems odd to foreigners, but it's practicly tradition here!" The prince said haughtily.
"Tradition?" Celia asked disbelivingly.
"Oh yes! Richard and my older brothers were all the time trying to overthrow my father. I'd come back from lessons with
my tutor and show him a picture I drew and he'd just shrug it off. "Not now!" He'd say. "I have to thwart your brothers!"
He'd say. Oh he never had time for me! And worse yet was Richard and the other two would never let me join in when they wanted
to plot against him. Noone wanted little Prince John around! Oh it was dreadful, dreadful I tell you!" He finished, sinking
his head into his hands as the sheriff patted him on the back in a vain attempt at consolation.
"Now look what you've done, you've made the prince sad! I hope you're proud of yourselves!" He said reproachingly.
"Hey come on I didn't know it was like that." Trent protested. Even Celia seemed to feel sorry for the prince now.
"It's little different in other kingdoms really, where do you hail from anyhow?" Asked the sheriff as the prince struggled
to regain his composure.
Matt hoped to make up for Trent's previous diplomatic failings and so he took the initiative to reply. "We've come from
the future." He said confidently.
"Oh bloody hell!" Cried the prince.
"Not again!" Wailed the sheriff.
"Trent and Celia both glared at Matt, not knowing what this reaction could mean but glad they had had no part in causing
it.
"What? You don't like the future?" Matt asked nervously.
"Oh the future is fine, I'm told I become king of England after Richard gets his silly arse killed. The problem however
is" He glared at the party. "You gits coming back here trying to impress us with your futuristic nonsense. Now see here, I
don't care that you have a smaller version of flint and tinder, I don't care about your electricity or your womens rights
or your futuristic weapons. You never bring the swimsuit calendars you tell of. You never bring maps of the world. You lot
never bring anything good to eat. All you can do is make chainsaw arms and teach us to dance. What in the hell
is the use of you?" John demanded as he glowered at them.
"Well... I do know how to make coffee..." Matt said in a last ditch attempt to curry favor.
"Is that some kind of ale?" The sheriff asked curiously.
"I think I've heard the moors talk about it." Said one of the courtesans, which drew several distrustful looks from the
assemblage.
"Fuck." Was all Matt could reply.
"Great. Just great. Only the second world we visit and you're going to get us stuck in the tower of London." Celia said
scornfully.
"Tower of London? Did you say tower of London?" The Sheriff said in a tone of stuttering disbelief.
"She did! Why she probably thinks Nottingham is just a hop skip and a jump away from Manchester, much less London!" Prince
John said, drawing a new fit of laughter.
"You bloody futuristic types. You always think England is just one big London don't you. You stupid bastards. We might
not be the biggest country in the world, but there's more to this place than just bloody London. Now get the devil out of
here before you bother the future king any further, there's an inn down the street that takes future currency and if you're
still there tomorrow evening I'll have you hung." The sheriff said with a threatening air. The party wasted no time in leaving
and finding the inn.
"We'd like to stay here, we can offer you wonders from the future in return." Trent said with an air of granduer.
"Right then, what have you got? Pocket watch is worth ten crowns, a pen is worth five pence, future weapons are worth ten
crowns and ammunition is worth one crown, future liquer is worth ten crowns, razors worth a sterling, and batteries worth
ten sterling. No recipes or knowledge of future events will be paid for based upon the basic laws of causuality and my Scottish
ass don't care if I'm your grandad." The innkeeper's speach had a tired quality to it and so the three comraddes quickly emptied
their pockets and raised enough for food and lodging for the night. It was with a little trouble that they found rest and
they were up early the next morning to find the portal awaiting them. Never had it seemed so welcome a sight.
To follow them into the portal turn to CH 13
To not follow them into the portal turn to page go fuck yourself.
