Crafty storms towards the Castle. Dtuch is smoking outside when he sees the Sergeant running towards him. Dtuch throws away his cigarette, accidentally setting the outhouse on fire. He doesn’t notice how the cesspit underneath it is set ablaze, even though a large eruption follows. Wood and faeces rain down on the front yard of the Castle.
Crafty slows down. He and Dtuch stand in front of each other, ready for a shootout. They stare at one another, each one more evilly than the other. The theme music of the Good, the Bad and the Ugly starts playing in the background. A lonesome dingo runs close to the two.
Crafty: (stares at Dtuch for a minute, then spits on the ground without taking his eyes of Dtuch) Step aside. I have no quarrel with you.
Dtuch: (answers Crafty’s stares with one of his own) No.
Crafty: I won’t say it again. Step. Aside. If you don’t, then feel my righteous anger as I bring down this s***heap down on you, gauge out your eyes to skullf*** you and be intimate with your sister-in-law. This is your last warning.
Dtuch: (lifts an eyebrow) Well, we’ll see just about that, won’t we? (reaches for his gun)
Crafty: I hope that what you’re taking is a sandwich, ‘cause you’re going to eat it if you don’t step aside. (as he says this, he takes out his knuckle-duster. He puts it on, kisses it and says sweet words to it)
Dtuch: Jesus Christ... I have met some dumb bastards in my time, but you outdo them all. You’re a joke. You couldn’t even hit water if you fell out of a boat in the middle of the Atlantic. I’m going to drive you in the ground so hard, your ancestors will feel it. Your children will be born bruised. You son of a motherless goat. You’re probably a eunuch. You’re a joke. Wait, if I wanted a joke, I’d follow you to the loo and watch you take a leak. It’s an inanimate f***ing object you’re talking to!
Crafty: Yeah? YOU’RE an inanimate f***ing object! You are physically repulsive, intellectually retarded, vulgar, stupid, a lousy taste of humour and you smell. I don’t like your name, I don’t like your face, and I don’t like you. I’d think that you despise me, but that is only if I would have given you any thought. What you’ve just said, is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response, were you even close to anything that can be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this city is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points and may God have mercy on your soul.
Dtuch seems oblivious to Crafty’s taunts. He is preparing a hotdog with ketchup.
Crafty: Oh yeah, nobody puts ketchup on a hotdog.
Dtuch drops the hotdog. Rage is building up in his veins. Dtuch angrily leaps at Crafty. Crafty parries the first few of his hits, but then Dtuch lands a hit on Crafty’s temple. He falls down to the ground, but rolls away just in time as Dtuch shatters a 2x4 right where Crafty’s left knee used to be, only a second ago.
Crafty pulls out his nun chucks, conveniently hidden in his boxers. He hits Dtuch right on his nose. Blood is squirting out if it, but as Crafty stand laughing, Dtuch releases a prehistoric roar, dives Crafty to the ground, pulls him up and piledrives him. ‘Lucky’ for the Sarge, he was piledriven right into a lump of faeces from the cesspit, so he walks away unharmed, albeit a bit smelly.
He takes a bit of faeces and rubs it in Dtuch’s eyes. Then, he kicks Dtuch in the crotch, scissor kicks him in the face and takes Dtuch’s arm to hit himself, whilst yelling “stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself!”. Then, Crafty stands up.
Crafty: You fight with the strength of many men, sir. I could use a fine and brave warrior like yourself. You have proven yourself worthy. Will you join me in my quest to kill or capture Jedi and take back Lassie and Lassy?
Dtuch stands without saying a word. Crafty is a bit confused. He says nothing and wants to head into the Castle.
Dtuch: None shall pass.
Crafty: What?
Dtuch: None shall pass. I move for no man.
Crafty: So be it!
Crafty takes a samurai blade lying on the ground. Dtuch takes out his scimitar. The two engage in a swordfight. After a ferocious duel, Crafty wants to slice Dtuch’s head off, yet Dtuch can parry it with a frozen turkey, as his scimitar was thrown away by Crafty. The blade ricochets and cuts off his left arm.
Crafty: Now step aside, worthy adversary.
Dtuch: ‘Tis but a scratch.
Crafty: Your arm is cut off!
Dtuch: I’ve had worse! Come on, you pansy!
They engage in yet another duel. This time, Dtuch has the upper hand (pun intended).Crafty has a tough time to defend himself against Dtuch’s vicious attacks. Just when Dtuch storms towards Crafty, he trips over a tree root. Crafty takes the opportunity to cut off Dtuch’s other arm.
As Crafty lowers on his knee and say a prayer to God, Dtuch kicks him right in the face.
Crafty: You were a tough opponent, but the fight is over! You’ve got no arms left!
Dtuch: Eh, it’s just a flesh wound. I’ll sleep it off.
Crafty: You’re a looney.
Dtuch jumps around and kicks Crafty some more. Even when Crafty cuts off one of Dtuch’s legs, he still won’t give up. As Crafty slices away Dtuch’s last limb, he walks away.
Dtuch: Oh, running away, eh? Come back here, you bastard! Chicken! I’ll bite your legs off!
Crafty pays no attention to Dtuch’s threats. He enters the Castle...
