Knightmare.com

Canadanne wrote:Black! Like the endless blackness of space, that leads to the chasm of clams!

Exactly mush!

Advisor: "Simon - sidestep to your left..."
*Simon sidesteps to his left, and falls down a pit.*
Treguard: "Play him off, keyboard cat."

Treguard, to a team hesitating in the Series 2 guillotine room:

"GET TO THE CHOPPER!"

[A dungeoneer meets Mrs. Grimwold in the wellway room and tells her their quest object.]

Mrs. Grimwold: Never mind that, dearie. I've got a quest for you. I can't seem to find me cooking pot in all this mess. Can you 'elp old Mrs. G and find it?

Offscreen Voice #1: Don't bother, dungeoneer. The ogre's looked all over for it and it's not here. We're inclined to doubt its very existence.

Offscreen Voice #2: Yep, Mrs. G's pot is a myth.

Mrs. Grimwold: SHUDDUP, FESTUS!!

These are a set of crossover-type things they would never say. Can you guess what they are referencing?

BROLLOCHAN: What are tarts made of?
DUNGEONEER: Pepper, mostly.


BLOCKER: Password!
DUNGEONEER: Mornington Crescent.


BROLLOCHAN: What is that root?
DUNGEONEER: Mandrake.


BROLLOCHAN: I hunger!
DUNGEONEER: Lemon curry?


BROLLOCHAN: I hunger. You will give me knowledge. What is your name?
DUNGEONEER: [insert name here], the Dungeoneer.
BROLLOCHAN: What is your quest?
DUNGEONEER: I seek the sword/shield/cup/crown [delete as applicable].
BROLLOCHAN: What is the air-speed velocity of an unladen Smirkenorff, the Dragon?
DUNGEONEER: Too quick for you, mate!

Drassil wrote:Oracle: 'Near a tree by a river, there's a hole in the ground, where an old man of Aran goes around and around... The third step is the-'

Dungeoneer [replacing helmet and muting the Oracle]: 'Ah, crystal clear! We can work with that info. Let's make a move, guys.'

Oracle: "The first step won't hurt at all. The second only makes you wonder. The third will have you on your knees. You start bleeding, I start screaming. Screaming. Screaming. Screaming..."

Treguard: "That sounds like propaganda, team." [It is.]

Treguard: Don't fear Pickle. No one will ever take this show, hack it up, make a half assed college project out of it and call it after a recycled level name from the hit shoot 'em up game Halo! No one can possibly that insane!
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Advisor: Don't take the chicken Leo... It's past its use by date!
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Treguard: Make haste team, I'm dying for a dump!

Apologies for bumping this I really missed all the fun times

I say, how wonderful jester's corner is. I might make my home here. Muahahahahaha!

These characters would never say...

Sir Hugh de Wittless: Tarah! Tarah! Haloo! Haloo!
I've had enough now I need the loo!

Hordriss: *waves hands around* WICKED! WICKED! JUNGLE IS MAHSIV'!

Rothberry the Apothecary: *wanders around* J-J-Jive you a spell? No way foo'.
Aint nobahdy gat tam fo dat.

Gwendoline: Yeah I know I have a 4x4 and it burns petrol, but do I even care!?

Gretel: >:-] Muahahahahaha! AHAHAHAHA! *cough! Cough! Wheeze!* ><

Neil's advisors in series two:

"Great work team. We certainly cast a shroud over our opponents with our triumph in the Annual County Spelling Championship. This will put us in fine fettle to take on the Knightmare dungeon."

Treguard: Take your places at the pool team. There are iPads for you to use and a pack of Vimto's for the quest...

Treguard: For the love of all that is holy... Dispel: S, R, E, T, S, P, I, H!

(Lying awake in bed. Every night. In vain.)

[Fatilla's the Hun's only friend in the realm, the unnamed ogre that appears a couple of times in Series 4, has learned that Fatilla has a taste for sheep droppings (as hinted at in Quest 2). To cheer Fatilla up after the JOKE spell (Quest 7) wears off, the ogre fills a bag with sheep droppings and gives it to Fatilla.]

Ogre: I know you prefer the poo of rams but I could only find female sheep. Is that alright, Fatilla?

[Fatilla is very glum and not really listening properly.]

Fatilla: Didn't catch all of that.

Ogre: Ewe OK hun?

Treguard: Do not expect the Brangwen Shee to look pleased at your success, team. Nor at your failure. She has "resting b**** face".

Treguard: Play fair, or Fear play foul, all begins again at the allotted h- no, wait, that doesn't rhyme. Play fair, or Fear commit crime, all... no, that won't do. Erm... take care of yourselves. And each other.


Hordriss: WHAT IS THIS ONE DOESN'T EVEN

Treguard: Oh for Christ's sake team, surely you know this one

Merlin: Understand that those steps were needed. The builders weren't available on time to finish the room so we had to improvise

Gretel: *silence* (Unconscious, surrounded by her own teeth with a broken nose and a baseball bat sticking out of her mouth!)

Hordriss: Patience my young adventurer, one needs to light this joint before continuing...