Original subtitles

Previously on Dwight in Shining Armor...

Keep 'em coming.

Want to talk about it, Baldric?

I was voted most likely

to become the Greatest Magician of All Time.

Wow, no kidding.

Now, look at me.

Hardly better than a royal nanny.

I thought you were a royal nanny.

You're, you're a magician?

Do a trick!

I do not do...

tricks.

Oh! Baldric!

Baldric, Baldric, Baldric!

Huh?

What?

Woo.

Hello.

Hi.

See what Sir Dwight and I have discovered.

Quickly, Sir Dwight!

Show him my self-me.

What?

Your self-me?

What? Oh?

Oh, huh.

Well.

Here it is!

Gretta's first interaction with a wacky, wavy tubeman!

Yah!

Oh!

Store clerk: Can I help you?

Oh, gotta go, Gretta!

Most peculiar, Highness.

Oh, Baldric.

I believe if I were to have

a wacky, wavy tubeman

I should never be bored again in my life.

Well, that's a stretch.

I could take it on walks, and peasant school,

and on quiet evenings at home

it could entertain me with its antics.

It really just has the one antic.

Baldric.

What?

I need a wacky, wavy tubeman

immediately.

My life is empty without it.

Now, now Highness, we do not know anything

about this wavy, wacka tubey man.

Well, I know those things are power hogs.

Your electric bill would go through the roof.

Oh.

Yes, yes, yes.

And, and my first priority must be your safety, Highness.

Hm.

Baldric.

Hm?

It is my royal command, as ruler of Rogemore

that you bring me a wacky, wavy tubeman.

Oh, come on, Gretta.

Really?

What?

As you command, Your Royal Highness.

Ugh.

Baldric.

Yay!

Uncool, Gretta.

Being a princess has its benefits.

So does not being a big, bossy jerk

to your friends.

I am not a big, bossy jerk.

Okay, so about a thousand years ago,

there was this princess, Gretta

and she was in big trouble because she had lots of enemies

and not a lot of friends.

So her court magician, Baldric cast the champion spell.

It put everyone in the woods to sleep

until a champion would come,

break the spell with his kiss

and deal with Gretta's big, scary enemies.

But that guy never showed up.

Instead...

Ah!

they got me.

Ah!

Ow!

Where would you even put a wacky, wavy tubeman?

Right here.

Her Highness, Princess Pridwyn of Elvendale.

Uh. Hey.

Grovel, unworthy peasant.

Huh?

At Princess Pridwyn's feet,

grovel at once!

Hold there, Sir Dwight grovels for no one.

Yeah, ew.

Princess Pridwyn: Sir Dwight?

You are Sir Dwight, Desolator of the Undead?

Uh, just Dwight's good.

Yes, 'tis he.

This slimy ball of cat hair?

'Kay.

Quite so.

This bulging little bunion.

The very same.

This puddle of pig piddle.

Wow.

I like him.

He is magnificent.

Yes.

Where is Princess Gretta the Besieged,

Ruler of Rogemore?

I am she.

Oh.

You smell like bacon.

Must we stay here Agravain?

We have no place else to go, my princess.

You don't?

I invoke the royal right of sanctuary.

Uh, what, what does that mean?

Ugh, by the treaty of royals signed by Osric the Grim,

I am duty-bound to grant you sanctuary within my walls.

What is that smell?

Oh.

Still you.

Agravain, fetch my lilac water.

Alack,

we left in such haste I had to leave it behind.

Ah!

Oh!

No, no, no, no, no.

I believe we still have some rose water, yes.

Rose water!

So, you had to leave your home?

Taking only what Agravain could carry.

Which turns out is a lot.

All right.

But why?

Elvendale is overrun,

with demons.

Demons?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Yes.

Woe, woe, woe.

Oh, Elvendale.

Shall I e'er see thy marble halls again?

Oh! Woe!

Woe.

Woe.

No!

No, no.

No, I meant, whoa, whoa, whoa

as in are we saying there are actual, real demons?

Now we are homeless vagabonds.

Forced to live in this squalid castle.

It's not really a castle.

With this smelly princess.

Princess Gretta the Besieged.

By rule of sanctuary,

you are to provide Princess Pridwyn with safety...

I shall protect her with my own sword.

comfort...

Sir Dwight, make ready the air mattress.

and amusement.

Really? Amusement?

We know many sprightly ballads

and festive songs and the YouTube can supply us

with an endless variety of diverting self-mes.

No, if we are to live among the funny humans,

we must do as the funny humans do.

Let's away to the tavern to mingle

and dance the Rufty-Tufty.

Uh, humans don't really do that kind

of stuff anymore.

As you command, my princess.

Lead on, stinky human princess girl.

Yes.

Huh.

You look taller in your self-me.

Hands to yourself, sir!

Oo! Oo!

Ah!

Unhand me, sir!

Gah!

I've heard the tales and the songs

of your great deeds, Sir Dwight.

You have?

Agravain, fetch me that delightful wheelie board.

At your command, princess.

You do not need a wheelie board.

Wait, what?

Is it true,

you single-handedly bested a pack of vargers?

Just one.

And did you truly liberate a water dragon?

Uh.

Hey, how did you?

Give that back at once.

And how did you defeat

an entire brotherhood of Tovenaars?

Oh well, it was a group effort.

Agravain, fetch me that adorable little animal.

As you command, princess.

We are not taking a dog home.

Wait just a second.

Sir Dwight, is it true

you challenged the Grim Reaper for your life and won?

I can't take the credit for that one.

And I'm told the Severian chief, Militsa

had a statue made in your honor.

Oh? For real?

What the heck?

Return that beast to its owner.

Never in my life have I heard

of such valor and bravery in one man.

Oh, well.

Uh, I didn't do it all alone.

Agravain!

Fetch me that darling little...

Don't even think it, hm.

Princess Pridwyn of Elvendale!

Welcome to my tavern, Principessa of the Elves.

Uh, and the other principessa is here too.

Oh, it's an animal.

Grazie, grazie.

I take it to the kitchen.

Hey, Jacopo.

How's business?

Magnifico!

And all thanks to the champion boy, eh?

Indeed?

Because of him,

we are famous on the public access television.

It's local.

For the champion I have the best table.

Ah, you shouldn't have.

Follow me

Agravain, I want a champion.

Well, then I will find you one, my princess.

The most glorious champion this world has ever seen.

I want him.

Here.

Give him my royal favor.

Yes, of course.

Sir Dwight, I must inspect the kitchen

if the Princess Pridwyn is to eat here.

Oh, yeah, sure.

Okay, um,

Oh, I'll have you know

this place was just featured on Forks Up

which is kind of a big deal.

Right this way, I'll take you to the back.

Well, here it is.

It's a bit rustic,

but Eberulf the ogre chef is actually

quite the food innovator.

You know, his mom had this recipe--

Silence!

Okay.

The Princess Pridwyn has chosen... you,

to be her champion.

Oh.

Uh.

Wow, yeah,

I'm flattered,

but I'm actually already Gretta's champion, so,

what, whatcha...

Put this on.

puttin'--

You will forget all about your smelly princess.

Instead you will devote yourself, heart and soul

to Princess Pridwyn of the Elves

until such time as she chooses to remove her royal favor.

Okay, first of all, Gretta is not smelly.

She just had bacon for breakfast

and that smell kinda sticks to your clothes.

It happens to everybody.

And second of all,

you can't just snap your fingers

and change who I care about and don't care about.

Elves don't snap.

We clap.

Princess Pridwyn.

Mm-hm.

Where is she?

Hold, hold!

Fool.

You are a disgrace.

Yes.

A cat-hair ball of a bulging bunion

of a puddle of pig piddle.

That's me.

Yeah.

Instead, under my spell,

you will be the most valiant,

the most daring,

Hyah, hyah.

Hyah!

The most heroic champion this world has ever seen.

Better.

Now, pathetic human,

your feeble mind is mine to toy with.

A clap of the hands brings you under my spell

and the clap of the hands,

releases you.

Wha?

Wha! Whoa!

Ow.

Dude, what the?

Hm, I am the best.

Got you!

Hey!

Hey!

Excuse me!

Sir!

Store Clerk:

Wait!

Stop!

Have you anything besides human food?

Ugh.

I'll have the kidney pie.

Oh lovely,

now you'll smell like bacon and kidneys.

His mightiness, Sir Dwight, Desolator of the Undead.

I am he.

Now, where is my princess?

Oh, over here, Sir Dwight.

'Tis she.

My princess.

Oh, Sir Dwight.

You're too gallant.

You flatter me.

Tell me your deepest desire, princess, and I will make it so.

I want to dance the Rufty-Tufty!

Very well.

Piper, pipe!

We dance the Rufty-Tufty!

Ah!

Tally-ho!

To me!

Would you honor me, my princess?

We need another couple.

You there!

I?

You too!

Rise to your feet!

Now we dance!

Princess Pridwyn, you may think me too bold,

but I must ask would you do me the honor

of accepting me as your champion?

I will.

Huh?

Wha?

Where am I?

Sir Dwight, are you unwell?

No... uh.

Yeah.

I don't know what's going on.

I'm freaking out.

I don't know how to say this, but

I am devoted heart and soul to Princess Pridwyn.

What?

Whoa.

Trouble is afoot.

Your champion boy is not himself.

My princess.

How should I prove my devotion to you?

Slay a dragon?

Fell a giant?

Call Nana?

I'm having a panic attack.

Gretta?

What's amiss, Sir Dwight?

Nothing shall ever be--

Wha!

amiss again,

now that Princess Pridwyn has accepted me

as her champion.

But?

But she can't, you, you are my champion.

And, who are you?

Help!

I don't know what's happening!

I don't know what's going on.

I, I have a theory!

It is a freaky theory, but it's a theory.

I think I'm under some kinda...

spell.

Ah, geez.

I remember the first time,

I was placed under a spell.

Oh, hey, so you've done this before.

So, how do I--

prove my worthiness to Princess Pridwyn?

Ah, floof.

Oh.

Ah.

Sir Dwight is under some kind of spell.

Who's spell?

That snotty little elf girl?

No, she could not throw out her own bath water.

Ha.

I believe that is the culprit.

Oh.

Gretta?

Oh.

Hold.

I think I found the trick.

Hm.

Command me, my princess!

Would everybody please stop clapping!

Leave it to me.

Hm?

Oh.

Now see here, you pointy-eared scullion,

release Sir Dwight from your villainous spell.

Or it shall be war between Rogemore and Elvendale.

Hey!

Hey, hey, hey,

let's not go for the nuclear option.

Run along.

♪ Running along!

Allow me to display my immense strength for you,

my princess.

Oh!

My spell will end

when Princess Pridwyn removes her favor,

and not a moment before.

And there's nothing you can do about it,

you paltry, pitiful, little princess.

Oh.

Oh, Pridwyn, I just heard the good news.

Sir Dwight is to be your champion now.

Is he?

Yes, he seems to prefer my company to yours.

Oh,

I am so pleased.

Hm.

You are?

I confess.

I'm happy to see him go,

though you mustn't tell him I said so.

The dear boy is so sensitive.

Sensitive?

Mm-hm.

Yah!

Better luck next time, fellow.

Oh, terribly, terribly, terribly sensitive.

If I'm quite honest,

I find him more than a bit smothering.

Smothering.

Though I'm sure you'll probably love

having a champion who sticks to your side

like honey to a bun, hm?

Hm?

Hm.

Oh, here's the honey now.

Whom shall I fight in your honor, my princess?

Name the man!

It never ends with him.

Go away, Sir Dwight!

Hm.

Going away.

And now, I am free to find a new champion,

perhaps one a bit taller,

maybe with a beard.

Woo!

I am so relieved

that Sir Dwight will go to a good home,

but I only feel it right to tell you most

of the legends and songs about him,

well, you mustn't believe everything you hear.

Mm.

Thank you, squire.

Ow!

Ow.

See what I mean?

Ow, ow,

I relish pain.

Ow, ow, ow, ow.

Ow, ow, ow,

I think I broke my toe.

Oh, okay, okay, okay.

Uh.

Take cover!

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Woe, woe, all is lost.

Guys, it's just the--

Demon!!

Demon!

Ah..demon!

Woe!

First Elvendale, now Rogemore?

No, here we make our stand.

Sir Dwight, my champion, save me.

From the wacky, wavy tubeman?

Shhh.

See, Sir Dwight is no match for a demon.

I tried to tell you the stories are hugely exaggerated.

No!

Then all is vain!

Then we die with honor.

But I don't want to.

Then we flee with haste.

Yes.

And find another place for sanctuary.

Yes, yes.

Go, elf princess.

I shall keep the demon at bay

and buy your escape with my own blood.

Huh?

Yes, yes, yes.

Agravain, fetch my things.

Done, my princess.

And you, give me back my royal favor.

Okay.

Find me a better champion, Agravain.

A taller one with a beard.

As you command, my princess.

Three, two, one... run!

I feel like I missed most of that.

Wait, we must be certain.

What happened to my toe?

Hm?

Why was I wearing a cowboy hat?

Oh, Baldric!

Huh.

Your Royal Highness.

I have delivered your wavy, wacka tubeman,

as commanded.

Well done, Baldric.

Hmm.

This wacky, wavy tubeman has just saved us

from a horrid, rotten little elf princess.

Indeed?

Her butler put me under some kind

of clapper spell.

Uh, Baldric,

she was dreadful, spoiled, and snootsy,

the way she bossed everybody about,

like she owned the whole...

Yeah.

world.

Mm.

Oh, yes, go on, Your Royal Highness.

I owe a debt to this wacky, wavy tubeman

that I should not soon forget.

But, I should hate for him to come

between you and me.

'Tis true that being a princess has its benefits

but so does not being a big, bossy jerk.

Fact.

It was wrong of me to order you about, Baldric.

You are not my servant,

you are my most loyal and trusted friend.

I know you only ever have my welfare at heart,

so if you have concerns about this wacky, wavy tubeman.

No, no, no, Highness.

Surely he has proven his loyalty,

and his antics are strangely amusing and terrifying

at the same time.

Right?

Yes.

Perhaps we should keep him, then?

To ward off elf princesses.

Ah, yeah, very wise, princess.

♪ Livin' my, livin' my, livin' my own pace, ♪

♪ ain't no runnin' round, runnin' round, ♪

♪ wrappin' my, wrappin' my, wrappin' myself up, ♪

♪ eh, eh, pullin' me, pullin' me, ♪

♪ pullin' me back up,

♪ ain't no knockin' down, knockin' down ♪

♪ healin' my, healin' my, healin' my heartache. ♪

♪ Ooo-oo.

♪ Flying miles ahead on my shadow. ♪

♪ Mojo, mojo.

♪ I'll be climbin' up another level. ♪

♪ Mojo, mojo,

♪ Flying miles ahead on my shadow. ♪

♪ Mojo, mojo.

♪ I'll be climbing up another level. ♪

♪ Mojo, mojo.