Here's how it really started…
Mark and his attendant clip clop up Asian Adonis to a filthy trail fairy toiling on the trail.
MARK: Old woman!
MARK: Man, sorry. What land manager commissioned this trail?
LEE: I'm thirty seven.
MARK: I what?
LEE: I'm thirty seven. I'm not old.
MARK: Well, I can't just call you 'Man'.
LEE: Well, you could say 'Lee'.
MARK: Well, I didn't know you were called 'Lee'.
LEE: Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?
MARK: I did say sorry about the old woman, but from the behind you looked
LEE: What I object to is you automatically treat me like an inferior!
MARK: Well, I AM trail boss…
LEE: Oh trail boss, eh, very nice. And how d'you get that, eh? By exploiting the workers! By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. If there's ever going to be any progress with the
SHARON: Lee, there's some lovely filth down here. Oh! How d'you do?
MARK: How do you do, good lady. I am MARK, king of the Shore Corps. Who's trail is this?
SHARON: King of the who?
MARK: The Shore Corps.
SHARON: Who are the Shore Corps?
MARK: Well, we all are. We're all Shore Corps and I am your king.
SHARON: I didn't know we had a king. I thought we were an autonomous collective.
LEE: You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictatorship. A self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes
SHARON: Oh there you go, bringing class into it again.
LEE: That's what it's all about if only people would hear of
MARK: Please, please good people. I am in haste. Whose land is this?
SHARON: No one lives here.
MARK: Then who is your lord?
SHARON: We don't have a lord.
LEE: I told you. We're an anarchosyndicalist commune. We take it in turns to act as a sort of executive officer for the week.
LEE: But all the decisions of that officer have to be ratified at a special biweekly meeting.
MARK: Yes, I see.
LEE: By a simple majority in the case of purely internal affairs,
MARK: Be quiet!
LEE: but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more
MARK: Be quiet! I order you to be quiet!
SHARON: Order, eh? Who does he think he is?
MARK: I am your king!
SHARON: Well, I didn't vote for you.
MARK: You don't vote for kings.
SHARON: Well, how did you become king then?
MARK: The Lady of the Lake [angels sing] her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water signifying by Divine Providence that I, MARK was to carry Excalibur. [singing stops] That is why I am your king!
LEE: Listen Strange women lying in ponds distributing shovels is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.
MARK: Be quiet!
LEE: Well you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because some watery tart threw a shovel at you!
MARK: Shut up!
LEE: I mean, if I went around saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a spade at me they'd put me away!
MARK: Shut up! Will you shut up!
LEE: Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system.
MARK: Shut up!
LEE: Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! HELP! HELP! I'm being repressed!
MARK: Bloody peasant!
LEE: Oh, what a giveaway. Did you here that, did you here that, eh? That's what I'm on about. Did you see him repressing me, you saw it didn't you?