A KNIGHT TO FORGET

WOW: Copy. The curmudgeonly spirit of Sir Percival Clench is a chivalrous soul who will only fight a worthy opponent; namely, another knight; so ...

... anyone else want to see Dean in a suit of armour?

No?

Just me then.

Disclaimer: Own nothing except for a very twisted imagination and a poor little battered laptop.

xxxxx

It looked so easy in the battered copy of 'Medieval Armaments Enthusiast' that Sam had borrowed from the library.

But, the suit of armour he had 'borrowed' from the museum and Dean's unco-operative scowl suggested otherwise.

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Three hours later …

xxxxx

"Okay Dean, think we're done."

"Hmi-mf-lig-ma-fmggn-fnardn!"

"Dude, lift your visor."

*squeak*

"Feel like a friggin' sardine!"

"Okay, just one last check."

"WOAH!"

"Sorry dude."

"Touch my butt again and I'll brain you with my mace."

"Um, right ... gauntlets okay?"

"S'pose."

"Breastplate?"

"Friggin' heavy."

"Legs?"

"Stiff."

"Codpiece?"

"Too small."

"Whatever, dude, reckon you're ready at last."

"Yeah; uh, Sammy?"

"What?"

...

"I need a pee."

xxxxx

end