A/N: In my English class we're reading Le Morte D'Arthur and I couldn't get this scene out of my head. I wrote this during Spanish class.
Lady of the Lake vs Sir Bedivere
Sir Bedivere raised the gleaming sword Excalibur high before throwing it back to the Lady of the Lake as his dying king requested. Sir Bedivere watched it fly toward the center of the raging lake where an arm shot out of the water to grab the sword...
The water stopped raging and revealed the Lady of the Lake with a bleeding stump where her right arm was.
"AHHH! Bloody fucking hell! That fucking sword just fucking chopped my arm off! Fuck!"
"You were supposed to catch it."
"Why the hell would you even throw a sword at me? You're a knight aren't you? Shouldn't you know better than to go around throwing swords at people?"
"How else would I give you Excalibur back? And I'll have you know that I am a knight of the Round Table. "
"There are the things called BOATS you know. Wonderful things, boats. How do you think Arthur got the damn thing? He got into a fucking boat and I handed it to him. I sure didn't throw it at his head. Do you know why I didn't throw it at his fucking head? Because that would be an idiotic thing to do!"
"I know what a boat is but there aren't any boats nearby."
"Right. Beside. You. There. Is. A. Boat. Right. Beside. You. You. Worthless. Piece. Of. Crap."
"Ah. I see it now."
"You're not very lady-like are you?"
"You just chopped my fucking arm off! I'd like to see you act pleasant and proper after you just had your arm cut off!"
"I'm sorry. I thought you could catch it."
"You try catching a sword flying at your head. Its not easy I tell you. Shall I throw it at you so you can try. I do have excellent aim..."
"That's not necessary. Er... do you need any help? Are you in terrible pain?"
"What a gentleman. First you lob a sword at my head and cut my arm off. Then you argue with me while I'm standing here bleeding. Then you remember that my fucking arm is gone and ask if it hurts."
"You started it!"
"Just leave and never come back here bastard."
"But I can't leave you while your arm-"
"It'll grow back. Now go away."
"How can it grow back? That's not possible!"
"I'm a water fae, dumbass. You, however, are just a moronic knight and if you don't leave I'm going to throw the sword back at you. And your arm will not grow back..."
"Point taken, milady"
As Sir Bedivere turned to leave, the Lady of the Lake began pelting him with a one-armed volley of small rocks and pebbles.