Sir Guy of Gisborne's Diary

Entry 3

Morning

I have neglected my diary already. I rather suspected my duties would get in the way of making an entry every day. Displeased yet again, the sheriff made me wax and polish the castle courtyard and then smacked me one when he slipped over and knocked his stupid gold tooth out. I hate the sheriff. Not as much as I hate Robin of Locksley, but close.

I realised last night why I stabbed Locksley in the Holy Land. Yes, of course I wanted to kill him, have done ever since I stopped wetting my breeches, before then probably seeing as I was nearly thirteen before that painful episode in my life stopped. It was the hair, the mullet. When I saw him rushing out to protect King Richard and I copped a look at his hair, I completely lost my rag (and my sense of where best to stick a man with a blade in order to cause his death). The ridiculous thing is, I looked in the mirror this morning and saw that I have almost the same hairstyle. Arrgh, what is wrong with me?

I should have been quicker striking the king, of course. It was the teddy bear that made me hesitate. It looked just like my one back at Locksley, my former home, which I've temporarily lost, or so the sheriff reassures me. Not that I have Binky any more. The sheriff chucked him into the privy, the bald-headed, glinty-toothed bastard.

And I should have been quicker at shutting my blurty mouth. As Locksley was pointedly telling me to leave the house I've been living in for the past four years, I said that I'd seen him fight, and when he asked me where, I realised I'd made a boo boo and hastily said: I do not recall. *head/antique writing bureau*

As if all this isn't enough to drive me to despair, I have to put up with the sheriff rogering me every time he feels in the mood for a bit of rumpy-pumpy. I pleaded with him to find someone else, especially on a Tuesday night, which is my leather-craft night, but he threatened me with a rogering from my horse if I didn't 'see to him' as he so delicately puts it. This does not appeal, especially as my brute of a horse has a huge willy (unlike the sheriff, tee hee!).

Well, dear diary, I must get on with my duties now, see what fun the sheriff has in store for me today. Re-grouting the castle walls if I'm not careful.

Still, on the plus side, it's Tuesday, leather-craft night, so I have that to look forward to.