The Workhorse

It isn’t easy to live up to the codes of ancient knighthood in this day and age, particularly residing in Melbourne. I took an oath to do just that many years ago, and have been living by it ever since. There are limitations, certainly. For example, subsection 14 of article 503 says that all knights must use a warhorse for travel whenever possible. In order to maintain my place in the British Noblemen of Melbourne Society, I must live by this rule. However, given that not many people use horses, and now that the world seems much bigger they are quite inconvenient, I have had to find a way around this rule.

Fortunately, my family is very rich, and I was able to purchase a model of car from Germany. And no, I do not mean that I simply bought a car. I bought the entire model, and I renamed it. The Poor She 999 is now known as the Warhorse, and I had one imported to Melbourne right away. Of course, I now have to find a good European car mechanic in Seaford, and they never know what I’m talking about when I say I need my Warhorse serviced (I am forbidden by the code from calling it a car, according to article 505, subsection 2). It is worth it, though, for now I am able to drive through town, holding my lance out the window (a.10, s.13), with a shield on my back (a.74, s.11) and the soundtrack of King of the Bling blasting from my speakers (that doesn’t have a section of the code attached, it is just personal preference).

My auto electrician near Seaford thinks I should just leave the society, but I have told him that due to article 13 I am honour bound to the group for my entire life. I quite enjoy being a member, however. It’s like being in the Illuminati if it was more about fun than taking over the world. Bill Doors can have his new world order. We have chocolate milk and cookies.