The Knights of the Round Ball from castle Melbourne came to Kate Carnell's Camelot and were cut to pieces in a gory but entertaining second stanza.
Where or where has the individuality gone from knighting attire? All the visitors wore the same outfits - which were the exact negative of their hosts - meaning that the field of war from my outpost high on the Western battlements looked like the makings of a red and white quilt of a damsel in some distress!
One had to study their legs and short trousers to determine the difference - which was very little in a 'nothing neither way' first charge - until all but two circumnavigations of the allowed 45 had disappeared into the indifference that passes as 'lulling the enemy into a false sense of security'.
That second last circumnavigation was punctuated by the Knight Porter being butchered in a dangerous zone - allowing our ever chivalrous adjudicator to decree mortal punishment from The Spot. Seething with anger and thirsting for revenge, Sir Joel himself rode up - only so see his thrust parried wide by squire Barney Smith.
A minute later, the local stars struck the upright - and Camelot's inhabitants, stirred from their slumbers, watched incredulously as a clown put his foot through the combatents' tunnel, attempting to recover a large, light and multi-coloured pigskin during the interval.
The battle resumed with aggression rarely witnessed in the local ranks. Hagger, who had been truly Horrible for much of his NSL debut produced a weapon of fierce projection to smash the upper frame of the Knight's quarters... and then into its body.
Scott, the infidel from across the waves nodded in after another charge, then Castro waltzed through the remanents of an creaking armour-cladded rear guard to seal victory... well almost...
There was just enough time for a real Barney to surface again, as Smith used his legs to repel another assault by Sir Joel from the dreaded Spot!
The colours of the visiting knights were lowered significantly, the mad pyrotechnic possum was at it again - and Camelot was not such a bad place to be - for once. Those who have thought 'it is only a model' of incompetence may be surprised when the local stars twinkle into their town. ......
As I drove home, I had to break suddenly to avoid running over a pre-medieval maiden in flowing rodes. I opened the window to speak to her. She muttered something about 'having to get on the coach'. As I drove off I heard a great ripping sound - part of her dress had been captured by my closing electric window!
In my rear vision mirror, I could see her naked body highlighted by the lights of surrounding cars - and pondered that not for the first time this evening, the frailties of the Knights party had been exposed for all to see!
Ah, but the night is still young, and there is much more to this NSL than has ever been dreamt of on one patio...