If you are a valiant knight on a noble steed, with shining armour, a sharp-edged sword and a beautiful buckler, looking for a maiden in distress to manage your lands while you dash about the countryside saving villages, slaying dragons and the like, well put this scroll down. Now move two aisles up to the Valiant Knight section. If you are not a knight, and you’re reading this, more likely or not you’re an idiot, or a teacher, who is usually just as dumb, only they hide it better. Well, since it is obvious that no maiden living in these fair ages would take you out of fancy, rather like my assistant, Frank here, you’re going to have to make one feel sorry for you, than tie her to your steed with duct tape to stop the poor lass from making a break for it. What better way than rescuing one from a dragon guarded castle, eh? Read these steps carefully. Yes, that means you Frank.

Step one; if you are a poor farmer with only a lame plough horse well past its prime to your name, there a few things you need. A sword, armour, a mount and a shield. If you are a beggar off the streets you’re stuffed already so please replace this scroll carefully, without getting stray bolognaise from the pizza shop next door on the writing. If you are a nobleman, why the hell do you want to risk your clothes on damsels in castles, when you can just buy one?

Step two; after you have begged a blunt knife off a soft hearted kitchen maid, scavenged a metal garbage can lid, welded loo buckets together for armour, saved a old circus pony from the knackers yard, severed all ties with family and friends, you’re ready to go. Trust me, you’ll hardly be able to afford better, and no-one in their right, or wrong, minds will want to know you after this, so quit whining and leave already.

Step three; Use the libraries yellow pages to track down your nearest dragon guarded castle and set out. After fourteen days and fourteen nights of scummy water, cold venison, hard ground, and stale bread, get your act together and leave the foot of the town walls, before the guards start throwing stuff heavier than rotten tomatoes at you.

Step four; when you finally reach the castle, it is now time to cross the stinking, scum filled moat. If the sight of ravenous croc – gators, a giant squid and carnivorous goldfish don’t put you off the whole idea, then strip to your undies, dispose of your armour (its not like it would come in handy anyway: you with the swordsmanship of a mouldy pretzel), tie your shield to the pony and your sword/knife to the elastic in your knickers.

Step five; after wrestling with croc-gators, darting around carnivorous goldfish and being half strangled by an over-zealous squid, drag your worthless carcass onto the bank. Don’t be too disheartened when you realise that you are on the same side you started, having only waded in up to your ankles. Follow the ponies’ example and cross the drawbridge.

Step six; Creep cautiously through the castle. When you spot the dragon, scream, turn around and race outside as it sets your jocks on fire. After four hours of hyperventilating, create a grapple and scramble ungainly up the sandstone walls, till you reach the battlements. Collapse on the ground, your head thudding dully at the amount of times you whacked it falling, and don’t grumble too much when your horse dumps a mouthful of spit in your face to keep you from passing out. Wonder at how he managed to climb up a rotting rope, and then stop wondering when he snorts and looks pointedly at a set of stairs, leading from the ground floor.

Step seven; engage the dragon in battle. Undoubtly after about four hours of trying to roast an annoying peasant racing around your territory you’d be a bit annoyed too, so don’t hold it against the dragon if it now hates the very sight of you. Don’t hold it against the pony either, when it asks the dragon politely if you may pass. So many people underestimate the power of manners these days.

Step eight; now you have to find your fair maiden. Usually you find them in the highest room in the tallest tower. Now a small set back. Around now your horse may suggest asking the dragon to fly you up, the fact being that the tower stairs have long since decayed. Now, ignore the horse and exclaim excitedly, the dragon can fly us up! If the dragon agrees (more out a desire to get rid of you than anything), you’d better strip one of the decaying corpses of its amour and don it. No? Well, fly up their starkers than, your undies having disintegrated after the dragon sneezed on them.

Step nine; Swoop elegantly up to the window, leap through, kneel grandly, and pronounce, “I am here fair maiden, to rescue you from this dreaded tower!”
Do not be too surprised if the lady exclaims in horror at the sight of a filthy man, kneeling naked on her floor, gibbering mindlessly about towers and maidens, his thick accent making the words indistinguishable. Watch as the horse saunters past you, bows majestically, and quotes Shakespeare. Don’t worry this trip was not all in vain. After the wee lass has married the horse, and they have both galloped away (using the elevator to get down), you can watch the damsel’s twelve kids. You now own your very own castle. The dragon flew away in disgust, when it realised you were staying. I don’t blame it really. All is not lost though. The castle might fetch a bit on E-bay, and kids make great housekeepers.