I'm jealous of medieval peasants right now. At least back in the day when a bunch of ergot-poisoned barons shitehoused some absolute roaster onto the throne, I could just get on with farming my goddamn millet and not have to constantly hear about whatever King Dipshit was doing today.
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"HARK! YE KING THINKETH THATTE HE HATH NINE-AND-NINETY PROBLEMS!"
"HARK! YE KING HATH A CATTE! LOOK YE UPON THYS WODECUTTE!"
"HARK! ..."