ByEdward Horan, writer at

I am the Black Knight. At the moment, I'm a head. But oh well.

My story begins many, many years ago, when I was a mere tad. My father was a builder. He wasn't a very good builder, necessarily, but it was what he liked to do and he did it.

Anyway, one day, he was hired by a man who said he was the King of England. Jeff, his name was. Jeff the Great. And, long story short, he had my father build this bridge. It took 12 years; my father and bridges, it turned out, did not mix. He kept messing with the supports.

Meanwhile, I was achieving my lifelong ambition to become a mighty warrior. I practiced until I was a master swordsman. I bought some armor, and painted it black. Stuck a dragon on it too. Looked great. Still does, actually. It's kind of broken now, though...

Anyway, after 12 years, my father built the bridge. It was a bit crappy, but it would do. Of course, this was when we found out Jeff wasn't the king. And didn't have any money. When we tried to call him on it and get paid, he... killed my father.

So I killed him and threw him off the bridge as well.

My father built that bridge and never got paid for it. I vowed then that no one would ever cross that bridge, so it would be as if it never happened. As if he never died. But then... I met the true King of England, Arthur. And... now I'm a head.

Looking back, maybe I should have demolished the bridge. Oh well.


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