The sun rose from the end of the earth and it was a good thing too, because some foul non describable stench had cometh from New Cowardonia.
Sir Jack quickly checked to see if his boots were on, just to make sure it wasn't his hand knitted socks again.
Quickly looking around to see the aftermath of the Steemlords night at the gathering point.
As if watching the redcoats intermingle with the local village people during the night wasn't enough
Waking up to a stench that could burn the deepest of nostril hairs in an elephant and to see the sheer disrespect that these Lords and Knights had towards recycling it was obvious to Sir Jack that he had to follow the stench and the squeeeeeeealing sounds heard by night where ever the Britanians lay camp.
Sir Jack, named the protector of all assholes out there, the "Anti Deliverance" as Sir Knight named him was on a mission, a mission that could only have been divinely passed on to him. To ensure that no man on earth be forced to squeeeeeallll like a pig ever again, anywhere.
The only way to ensure that this happens was clear to Sir Jack, at all costs, we must not let the Britanians get to Excalibur, we shall defend our rectums, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the play grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.
Sir Jack - The Anti-Deliverance has once again risen from the ashes.
Ohhhh boy, this is a scene that is not suitable for children of any ages!
Damn it, the original Bonds chain mail underwear designed for Steemlords seems to get right up there when ever Sir Jack gets excited.
Anyways... after the tent that was pitched got taken down, Sir Jack made a map, using his sense of smell to mark down exactly where the stench was originating from, if anything Sir Jack knows his sh#t and man was this some evil smelling sh#t comming from New Cowardonia.
Having traveled all day and into the early portion of the evening, he finally arrives at the scene where the smell originated.
New Cowardonia, a land of many peoples where one only has to ask with a firm voice and the people tremble with fear as they answer.
So Sir Jack sitting in a nice little cafe shop, enjoying a drop of the local bubbly asks a lady about the stench and the visitors, she answers him... "Shhhhh Sir, I shall send someone over to give you the information that you want"
When from the window next to Sir Jack a voice is heard
This lovely young creature spilled her guts, ratting out everyone who had passed through, from the drinking frenzy of Sir Percy to the young lass in fishnet yoga pants riding on a unicorn that lets 'em rip like no creature known to man kind.
She explained who had slept with whom and from what rooms the Squealing sounds had cometh from.
Knowing the intimate secrets of all those who passed before him Sir Jack sat back to think about it all and knew that after all the vibrant images portrayed to him by this informer that no tent shall be pitched in the next month or so, he was saved from the morning wedgies from this point onwards.
Trailing right behind all those heathen children of Sodom and Gomorra and those worthy of the Steemlord title who were not aware of the dangers that lay ahead of them, Sir Jack The Anti-Deliverance was faithfully following with plans of vengeance for all those who made men and/or women squeeeal like pigs.
So is Sir Jack off to Vikindinavia?
or shall he use a harsh tone of voice to get another New Cowardonian to spill their guts out about where those who passed through earlier are going?
We shall see.
Part one: https://steemit.com/steemlords/@jackmiller/steemlords-introducing-sir-jack-the-humble-man
Part two: https://steemit.com/steemlords/@jackmiller/steemlords-sir-jack-arrives-at-the-gathering-point
