Brian the Wise watcheth the parade of multitudes lining up to toucheth Roger the Divines Holy Grail and was depressedeth. For miles and miles they lineth up to stroke His Holy Vessel.

"Woe art thee" he cried "for no man hath found Thy Holy Goblet, whoetever so-eth searcheth high and loweth Thee knowest not! Foundeth the Goblet of Roger the Divine hath they, but findeth thine they hath not!" And he sobbed and sulketh muchly.

"Oh, do stoppeth thy whining" sayeth the Lord God Freddie "Thy Holy Goblet hath not been found and ne'er hath the Holy Goblet of John the Mysterious! Stoppeth feeling sorry for thineself at once, thou art but a sook!"

"Why do-eth thou spaketh unto thee with such cruel words when thee art depressedeth?" wailed Brian the Wise, "Thee will telleth Mother!"

"Thou seem to loveth to hath something to complaineth about!" snapped The Lord God Freddie, 'Thou art ne'er happy unless thee hath something to whine-eth about!" and he stormeth off to celebrate with Roger the Divine.

Just then, a small band of men on horseback rode up to John the Mysterious and sayeth unto Him "Lo! John the Mysterious, we art thusly setting off thither yonder in search of THY Holy Goblet for we hath spied a trail of pipe cleaner fluff leading unto the hills!" And they weret away.

This did thusly maketh Brian the Wise even more depressedeth and He weret woe.

"Oh woe art me" he cried unto no-one in particular for everyone hath gone to celebrate with Roger the Divine. And he sateth upon the rocks by the sea and woe-eth and complaineth some more unto Fat Arsed Whale.

"Oh woe art thee!" he crieth, "No man hath found thy Holy Goblet, but findeth the Holy Goblet of Roger the Divine they hath! And searcheth for the Holy Goblet of John the Mysterious they do! It art not fair! Woe art thee! Thy cloud of despaireth descendeth upon thee and thee art woe!" And He did thusly picketh up a stick and scratcheth mindlessly unto the sand.

Scratcheth swirls and lines unto the sand dideth He. Scratcheth circles and squiggles unto the sand did He. Scribble and scribeth unto the sand did He and His eyes weret blurred with tears.

"Hearken! Behold! Lo!" sung Fat Arsed Whale in whalesong for Brian the Wise couldeth thusly understand the song of the whales for He weret Brian the Wise and He weret wise.

"Looketh here at what thee art scribed unto the sand" sang Fat Arse.

Brian the Wise wipeth his tears away and BEHOLD! There, scribed thusly in the sand weret the words:

"THAT ART IT!" crieth Brian the Wise, jumping up with glee-eth, "Thee shall thusly instructeth Mother to maketh for Thee a t shirt that sayeth thusly that which Thee hath scribed thusly here unto the sand! And the multitudes will see-eth thy t shirt and knoweth that the Holy Quest for the Holy Goblet of Brian the Wise musteth go-eth on! Thank thee Fat Arse, what wouldeth Thee do-eth without thee? Thou art but a true and trusted mammal!"

And Brian the Wise did thusly sendeth for a carrier pidgeon and scribeth home to Mother at once!