Duke: This had better be good. I was elbow deep in concubines.
Blacksmith: I believe the expression is “knee deep”.
Duke: No, I meant elbow.
Blacksmith: Apologies, my lord. But I’m sure you’ll enjoy this.
Duke: You found me a new concubine?
Blacksmith: No.
Duke: Fine wines?
Blacksmith: Nay.
Duke: Multiple concubines soaked in fine wines?
Blacksmith: I’m afraid not. It’s my newest creation.
Duke: Have you finally made me a magic claymore?
Blacksmith: I’m a blacksmith, not a wizard. We’ve discussed this m’lord.
Duke: I can’t remember. It must have been dull.
Blacksmith: You say everything is dull.
Duke: I don’t like all this reading you’ve been doing. It’s giving you a bad attitude.
Blacksmith: I’ll have myself exorcised at the earliest opportunity.
Duke: You’d better. I don’t go through all the trouble of oppressing you just to get lip in return.
Blacksmith: Could you just look over here?
Duke: What in the nine layers of hell is that?
Blacksmith: My greatest work yet. Behold: the Steel Jenny.
Duke: That name is every breed of failure.
Blacksmith: The Rusty Lass?
Duke: Try Iron Maiden.
Blacksmith: I liked “Steel Jenny”.
Duke: Do recall that I can execute you on a whim.
Blacksmith: Iron Maiden it is.
Duke: What does it do, exactly?
Blacksmith: It gores dissidents to death. Or near death, if you prefer.
Duke: …oh. I see you’ve given this some thought.
Blacksmith: It took some time to make all the spikes, but I think it was worth it.
Duke: And the pan at the bottom?
Blacksmith: That’s where the blood drains out.
Duke: But…why?
Blacksmith: You know people?
Duke: Yeah?
Blacksmith: I’m not a fan.
Duke: Well, horrific torture has been a bit repetitive lately. You can only draw and quarter so many heretics…
Blacksmith: That’s the spirit!
Duke: I’ll take ten. If they’re not done by the end of the month, I’m testing it on you.
