The Diaries of King Arthur – A Comedy

21 Mar

I’ve been wanting to write a comedic screenplay about King Arthur having a breakdown for a couple years now. I’ve had many small ideas, but I need a story. I’ve started the Diaries as way of finding that story and the screenplay’s comedic voice.

WARNING: The following may be EXPLICIT at times. Also, I know nothing about King Arthur. Right now, that’s the way I like it.

Without further ado, venture forth braeve readyr…

The Diaries of King Arthur
Discovered, Edited, and Originally Tranlated by Frater Louis Dejeunuer
Translated from the French by Carlos Wagamama

Editor’s Note (CW):  Occasional notes appear throughout. I have denoted which are mine. And which are Frater Dejeuner as follows (FLD). All other notes are my own.

4 of March, Year of our Lord, 605 Anno Domini

Dear Diary:

This be moste ridiculous. Nor does does that salutation of ‘dear diary’ befit a king.  A king does not keep a diary like a lady’s hand maiden. But the Queen is most insistent, should I want to share our marital bed. I shall start my writing from the beginning.

Ho Diary!
Oh Good Book!
Forsooth mine journal!

Confound this most humiliating exercise! Guinevere is thy Queen, Arthur. Her pardon in these matters is secondary to your need to discharge your kingly duties and rights of the bed.

Good night,
Arthur, King of Brittania

5 of March, Year of our Lord, 605 Anno Domini


So, book, we are met again on thine pages. I shall keep it plain. The reason I am keeping this diary journal is because my wife insists I do so. Or rather at the recommendation of a strange some Celtic lady physic she doth see. She calls herself a Councillor of Couples and Relationship Alchelmist.  I cannot fathom her usefulness or her sorcery. But Guin insists I do not listen her…on the level of her emotions. Hogwash.

There. I am done. Now to bed my wife.

Still 5 of March, YooL, 605 AD
Not 5 moments later


Denied. I haven blocked by legs so insistently shut should they have gripped Excalibur rather than the Stone, I should never have become King.  Evidently only thou journal, dutifully maintained, shall pay my entry back to her loving embrace. And, in her words, “Three unrhymed lines of complaint do not moisten me nor endear my loins to you.”


Ahem. I have tapped my finder here for half the length of a candle and though of nothing to say.  What should thy pages be filled with? I am not a poet for a minstrel nor a monk, as my testicles of pitch attest.  But I might as well be.

That reminds me of a joke Tristan told me today. So, a monk, a nun, and a whore walk into a mead house, and the whore, being a woman of easy virtue doth proclaim: Any man large enough to please me shall, now undo thy tunics. And the barkeep says…

Nevermind. Methinks the conclusion of this jest shall not please my wife. The lids of mine eyes grow as heavy as mine balls. Good night.



2 Responses to “The Diaries of King Arthur – A Comedy”

  1. SW March 22, 2010 at 16:26 #

    I think this could work on a twisted level the equivalent of Flowers for Algernon – where Arthur can at last have a relationship (completely misplaced, of course) with this emotional side of himself. I love the second and third entries’ openings.

    I also sense a lot of Jitterbug Perfume in this-in a good way.

    • cxw March 24, 2010 at 17:12 #

      S – I assume you mean Algernon in the sense of his progress, not that he’ll tragically revert later? Or perhaps there should be a mouse?

      Defo, some JP in this. Not intentional, but as I just finished it and both feature Kings of about the same time period experience mid-life crises, it’s unavoidable.

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