A long long time ago, There was a king known as Arthur, and whose gallant knights included Messrs. Galahad, Gawain, and Lancelot. It came to pass that Lancelot had gone in search of the Holy Grail, but had not returned on time. Nay, even aftyer three months there had been no word from or of the sorta-loyal Lancelot.
King Arthur called Gawain and Galahad into his presence and asked if they would go on a quest to find Lancelot. They agreed and said they would leave that same afternoon. Arthur expressed surprise. "How can you gather together an entourage that quickly?"
Gawain replied, "Sire, we wouldst travel alone. A large group would just slow us down."
Arthur would not agree to this plan, since the reputation of the kingdom rode with them. "No, it would be best to take an entourage," he insisted. After some haggling, they agreed to take one squire with them.
Several days later, Gawain, Galahad, and the pageboy squire found themselves in the proverbial deep and dark forest. And, of course, it began to storm, lightning flashed, thunder roared, and it was raining lug nuts. Since a knight fears nothing more than lightning, they began a frantic search for shelter. A flash of lightning revealed a dark, foreboding castle.
They knocked at the portcullis, which opened to reveal a remarkably ugly crone, who intuited what they wanted. "You need a place of shelter, you beautiful young men? You've come to the right place. I will give you shelter, but one of you will have to sleep with me tonight and make me very happy, if you know what I mean."
Gawain and Galahad went into a huddle. "We need shelter," said Galahad, "but our knightly vows certainly preclude us from sleeping with her."
Gawain responded, "Simple, Galahad. Promise her anything, but give her our page."
