NARRATOR 3: Our Heroes are feeling a little Trapped

Queenie + Percy may both have a Quest, but after last night this mage of mosaic, this shaman of shag pile, feels they may be a bad influence on each other. Queenie had surfed along quite nicely until now, cocooned in a beige, appliqué quilt of sarcasm and irony. She mostly ignored her Quest, indulging in red wine, dark Venezuelan rum and other less widely available stimulants to blunt its niggling. Percy’s appearance, and contention that a Quest is ‘a good thing’ has required a more intense application of these blunting mechanisms, which is not having a good impact on Queenie’s ability to function in the world of the ‘droid people. She is feeling a little trapped.

Percy is also feeling a little constrained by his circumstances. The man cupboard, although fitted with tasteful and ingenious (if I may say so myself) storage solutions for small spaces (the principal design challenge was accommodating his plumed helmet), is very cramped. Along with a sense of physical restriction, Percy is having trouble thinking ‘outside the box’. His inability to concentrate on an intellectual analysis of his Quest is compounded by his reduced endorphin and adrenaline levels, due to his not having slayed a dragon in ages.

Queenie is always telling Percy that their Quests are the same. He doesn’t quite understand what she means, but he thinks it is something to do with the small, determined ache in his heart that will not go away until he has held the Holy Grail in his gloved hands and its glorious light illuminates all the nooks and crannies of his being. Sometimes, when Queenie is sitting by herself on a wet Tuesday and there is nothing on TV, her face turns in on itself and he can see the shadow of that ache flit across her dark eyes and her mouth.

However, Percy worries that Queenie is not as true to her Quest as he is to his. Often in the wee hours, when Queenie has had too much to smoke, she puts forward the proposition that they are both wasting their lives on their respective Quests, and that maybe they should just ‘be one with the ‘droid people‘. She talks a lot of nonsense when she smokes, of course, but as far as Percy can make out, ‘droid people are those citizens who do not have a Quest of their own and who only think about money, but who expect others to fight dragons on their behalf and then complain about the methods used as an excuse to avoid payment for the dragon heads. They include most people, as far as he can make out, particularly the ones whose appearance on news shows on television make Queenie shout at the television.

Those citizens irritate Percy too, but he tries to be compassionate towards them, because not everyone is blessed with the joy of a Quest. Queenie thinks Percy is a twat for thinking like that. Compassion is a bit hit and miss with her. Something to do with a world that Queenie visits five days a week in which knights allow their hunting hounds to eat each other.

Nevertheless, despite their differences, they have muddled along quite well up till now. But Queenie is quite worried about Percy. He’s been very quiet lately, and doesn’t argue with the same ferocity when she suggests giving up his Quest. She is even thinking about slinging the other two out of the man cupboard to give him the solitude he wants. Besides, they are tormenting his gentle, poet’s soul.

Clive Owen keeps banging on and on about how an evil wizard of the ’droid people called Dan Brown has already completed his Quest, and Sean Bean is adamant that the Holy Grail is in fact a small golden ring that was destroyed in a volcanic eruption in a place called New Zealand about five years ago. He reckons that Percy and he should go on a new Quest together. Preferably one that involves lots of terrified maidens.

Queenie considered it seriously. But having read The Road Less Travelled a couple of years ago, to placate her mother, Queenie knows that it’s a double-edged sword, being alone with your thoughts. And besides, who wants a man cupboard populated solely by a depressed virgin?