Me, Arthur! (And Some Other Unimportant People)

Lancelot Questions (Greatly Regrets) His Life Choices

Lancelot was rather sure that when hammers and slightly delusional people were paired together, it didn't end well. But Lancelot knew that he might as well get a hammer for Arthur since he didn't actually trust Arthur to get a hammer by himself. Lancelot sighed, why was he the one always playing babysitter? Lancelot didn't really mind, it just struck him as odd that no one else even cared about what Arthur did. Lancelot suddenly realized how depressing Arthur's life must be.

"Sorry," he mumbled down to the grass he was walking on. Lancelot wasn't one to badmouth others. He generally preferred to be honest, even if that honesty might be a little harsh. His father had always said that a lie merely for courteousness is just another way to say deceiving someone. Lancelot's father was a man that he tried to model, even if he couldn't quite muster up the loud enthusiasm he had since his father wasn't around anymore. His blank neutral face dipped almost imperceptibly.

A squirrel leaped onto his shoulder, surprising him. This was why he liked animals. They're kinder than humans and make a lot more sense, he thought, slightly smiling. They were also easily lured by pastries. Lancelot found humans confusing. Their gestures were way too complicated, and sometimes they appeared far too much like rats: cruel smiles, amused eyes, and occasionally terrible haircuts that needed to be dealt with.

Lancelot found a great example in the two girls staring at him as he crossed the courtyard. They whispered at each other and glanced at him, then they giggled. He knew everyone in the castle talked about him behind his back, laughing at him. Lancelot had accepted long ago that everyone in the castle hated him. Even the king, who often invited him to dine with him, would send remorseful looks towards Arthur every time Lancelot did something skillfully. Clearly, he didn't like Lancelot for always outperforming his son. That was probably why Lancelot hung out with Arthur. He was the only person who actually dared make his loathing clear to the world. Somehow that brutal honesty made Lancelot respect him, or at least respect as much as you could respect a completely insane kid with a really overinflated ego.

The two girls, their matching dark hair gleaming in the sun, stalked up to him. He desperately tried to avoid them and increased his pace in hope that they might leave him alone. If only girls were as afraid of squirrels as they seemed to be of cockroaches, he mused. Then maybe he would be better off. Unluckily for him, they quickly caught up to him.

"Hey Lancelot, are you off to do some morning sword training?" asked the girl who was wearing one of the ugliest dresses he had ever seen. They didn't need to rub in that he had skipped sword training yesterday. He had foolishly hoped that no one had noticed.

"I was just about to, but it's not like I need it to stay in shape," he replied defensively. Both girls laughed in the fake way that only absolutely devilish people that were totally out to get him could manage, and the other girl, who happened to have on an absolutely atrocious dress, spoke.

"I bet, based on the way that you've been winning those swordfighting competitions." The girl got even closer to him, as though trying to psych him out. Has she just implied that I'm going to lose the next competition? He shook his head, that wasn't going to happen, he was sure of it.

"While, I need to go meet with someone, see you later," he responded quickly, desperate for an excuse to escape them. He jogged across the rest of the courtyard and hid behind the side of the castle. He waited a few minutes, then peeked out of his hiding place. He sighed in relief. They're gone, thank the Lord.

He eased out from behind the building, then ran down the path through the forest that led to the storage shed. Lancelot loved the way all the colors of the forest blended together to create a beautiful mix of stunning greens, rich browns, and plenty of other colors. The forest was where Lancelot went to relax and read good books, like his very favorite, How to Appear Charismatic and Gain Fans When Everyone Hates You, although it was too bad that even after reading all ten volumes his popularity never seemed to increase. But, at least Lancelot still had the forest animals. They all seemed to like him, judging by the way that Lancelot always had a following of at least fifteen animals when he was outside, that did, actually, follow him.

Lancelot creaked open the door to the nearly abandoned storage shed. I shouldn't have agreed to Arthur's ridiculous request, he thought as he stared at the rows of dangerous weapons and gardening supplies (which he knew from experience should probably be considered dangerous weapons). The door slammed shut behind him. He mentally shivered, Might as well get this over with.