Friar Tuck: [singing drunkenly] Old King Richard's gone to war, loves his wine and warring/But those of us hwo stay at home, there's only beer and whoring/Play the music, dance the day, think not of tomorrow...
Sir Guy of Gisborne: Friar! I'm sure you shall find it much more difficult to sing with a sword in your gullet!
Friar Tuck: Yes, my lord. [laughs, to himself] You pig.
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