[clop clop whinny]
???: They're nervous, sire.
ARTHUR: Then we'd best leave them here and carry on on foot.
TIM: Behold the cave of Caerbannog!
ARTHUR: Right! Keep me covered.
???: What with?
ARTHUR: Just keep me covered.
TIM: Too late!
TIM: There he is!
ARTHUR: What, behind the rabbit?
TIM: It is the rabbit!
ARTHUR: You silly sod! You got us all worked up!
TIM: Well, that's no ordinary rabbit. That's the most foul,
cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on.
ROBIN: You tit! I soiled my armor I was so scared!
TIM: Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide, it's
???: Get stuffed!
TIM: It'll do you a trick, mate!
???: Oh, yeah?
ROBIN: You manky Scot's git!
TIM: I'm warning you!
ROBIN: What's he do, nibble your bum?
TIM: He's got huge, sharp-- he can leap about-- look at the
ARTHUR: Go on, Bors. Chop his head off!
BORS: Right! Silly little bleeder. One rabbit stew comin'
ARTHUR: Jesus Christ!
TIM: I warned you!
ROBIN: I did it again!
TIM: I warned you! But did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew
it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a harmless little bunny, isn't
it? Well, it's always the same, I always--
ARTHUR: Oh, shut up!
TIM: --But do they listen to me?--
TIM: -Oh, no--
KNIGHTS: Aaaaugh! Aaaugh! etc.
KNIGHTS: Run away! Run away!
TIM: Haw haw haw. Haw haw haw. Haw haw.
ARTHUR: Right. How many did we lose?
ARTHUR: And Boris. That's five.
GALAHAD: Three, sir.
ARTHUR: Three. Three. And we'd better not risk another frontal
assault, that rabbit's dynamite.
ROBIN: Would it help to confuse it if we run away more?
ARTHUR: Oh, shut up and go and change your armor.
GALAHAD: Let us taunt it! It may become so cross that it will
make a mistake.
ARTHUR: Like what?
ARTHUR: Have we got bows?
LAUNCELOT: We have the Holy Hand Grenade.
ARTHUR: Yes, of course! The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch! 'Tis
one of the sacred relics Brother Maynard carries with him! Brother
Maynard! Bring up the Holy Hand Grenade!
How does it, uh... how does it work?
???: I know not, my liege.
ARTHUR: Consult the Book of Armaments!
MAYNARD: Armaments, Chapter Two, Verses Nine to Twenty-One.
BROTHER: "And Saint Attila raised the hand grenade up on high,
saying, 'Oh, Lord, bless this thy hand grenade that with it thou
mayest blow thy enemies to tiny bits, in thy mercy.' And the Lord
did grin, and people did feast upon the lambs, and sloths, and
carp, and anchovies, and orangutans, and breakfast cereals, and
fruit bats, and large --"
MAYNARD: Skip a bit, Brother.
BROTHER: "And the Lord spake, saying, 'First shalt thou take out
the Holy Pin. Then, shalt thou count to three, no more, no less.
Three shalt be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the
counting shalt be three. Four shalt thou not count, nor either
count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is
right out. Once the number three, being the third number, be
reached, then lobbest thou thy Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch towards
thou foe, who being naughty in my sight, shall snuff it.'"
ARTHUR: Right! One... two... five!
???: Three, sir!