A few days later, Michael Palin is enjoying lunch in his palace. This palace of his is decorated with balloons and stuff in order to celebrate his birthday. But it is a difficult one this year, since he's just received a letter from king Graham Chapman and his knight Eric Idle of England. They asked him to go on a quest with them. He would have to leave his palace. But after all, he'd started it.
He finishes his lunch and stands up. "Terry G, could you get my suitcase?" He asks the knight, who stands in the corner. "Sure, mate." Terry G salutes. "Don't call me that, I'm still your king." Michael says sadly. "Right, Mike. Don't be sad, we'll have shrubberies soon!" Terry G yells, walking away to get the royal suitcase. Michael sighs.
"Terry J! Could you get the transport ready?" He asks, turning to the other knight in the other corner. "Yes, M- sir." The knight walks away.
King Michael Palin had no family or friends. Or so he thinks. Everyone likes him, he's quite likeable. Only, he can't understand why people do, since his mother had been a hamster and his father had smelt of elderberries. He shrugs it off him. His knights hope the realisation will come one day, so have they told him, but he didn't believe them. Still, no one can help but like him.
But enough of that.
He walks outside to join his knights. "Are you ready, Terry?" He asks both of them. "Yes, Michael! Let's go, before I get nervous!" Terry J answers.