The Chanterator: 10,000 Medieval Soldiers, 500 Amazonian Librarians and three Privates charge at The Chanterator.
Private Parts: No they bloody well don't!
The Chanterator: Wha!?!

But you have too...
Private Property: Why?
The Chanterator: Because I said.
Private Screening: If you think we're stupid enough to change at someone who make a farmhouse instantly disappear, you've got another thing coming, mate.
Privates Parts and Property, 500 librarians and 10,000 medieval soldiers: Yeah!
The Chanterator: Look, how about I make it fair for you.
The Privates: Oh yeah...?

The Chanterator: The Chanterator produces a piece of parchment and an old-fashioned quill pen. He starts scribbling like mad. After a few minutes he finishes with a flourish and hands the parchment to the three Privates.
The Privates cautiously take the parchment and start to read.
Private Parts: Hmmm....
Private Property: mmmm....
Private Screening: uh huh.
Colon-El of the Chantanian Army: What's it say?
Gladys the Amazonian Librarian: Shhh. Let them finish.
Private Parts: Well it all seems in order...
Private Property: He says he'll give us a couple of posts to battle his robotic mail minions while he deals with the JLR.
Colon-El: Sounds reasonable.
Henrietta another Amazonian Librarian: Can we trust him?
The Chanterator: Cross my fingers and hope you die.
Colon-El: What!?!

The Chanterator: Cross my heart... yes my heart... and hope to die.
Private Screening: One second please...
The Chanterator: Be my guest. The three Privates, 500 Amazonian Librarians and 10,000 Chantanian soldiers form a huddle...
Private Property: OK. You've got a deal.
The Chanterator: Excellent.
Private Parts: But no sneakily banishing us to other websites during the battle, OK?
The Chanterator: The merest possibility of the slightest thought had not even contemplated crossing my mind... much.
Brit: Obviously Narrators can't internally monologue.
The Chanterator: Did I say that out loud?
RM552: Excuse me everyone. We've got a War to finish here.
The Chanterator: 10,503 robotic mail minions charge at the 10,000 Chantanian Soldiers, 500 Amazonian Librarians and three Privates.
Colon-El: That's better.
Private Property: Hmm, I think we may have miscalculated somewhere in our negotiations.

The Chanterator: Charge, my robotic mail minions!
RM552: Attack!!!
