Script

SQUINTY

It's a grand feast the Duke is pitching for the Black Knight, ain't it?

MUSTACHE

Yeah, just listen to 'em in there& laughing& with their bellies all filled up with beef and ale.

RED

While we starve out here keeping their castle free of the riff-raff.

SQUINTY

Yeah, the riff-raff. What's riff-raff?

RED

You know, the plebes.

(SQUINTY, squints, confused)

The proletariat.

(SQUINTY squints some more)

The hoi polloi.

(SQUINTY still not getting it)

The commoners, you dunce!

SQUINTY

Ohhhh& you mean folks like us!

MUSTACHE

Ironic, ain't it? Using folks like us to keep out folks like us?

RED

Well, mark me words, I ain't going to be a commoner the rest of me life.

SQUINTY

What are you going to be, Red?

RED

A knight, what else? I may not be of noble blood, but I have me suspicions that sort of thing won't matter to the Black Knight.

MUSTACHE

Once he gets here and gets a load of Red, he'll see he's got more valor in his little finger than all of the Duke's wimpy pages and squires put together.