Witch, lech or fool?

In recent tymes I foundeth myself at yon Renaissance Festival and after much jostling, tooing and froing, and much bear baiting and maypoling, I found myself, after partaking of the mead, upon the stage where a man with long beard was trying to discredit me as a witch and have me burnt! What a scoundrel! This lustful Greybeard was trying to find out if I really was a witch by poking me with a stick to make me scream, but I ended up having a rather droll time of it and being offered an opening at a brothel.



Listen closely to the video, but for those with little time for such tomfoolery here is the punchline:

Greybeard, after poking me with a stick and making me scream: Have you always been a screamer?

Witch Hazel (me): Yes

Greybeard: I only ask because I own three brothels and at the moment there’s an opening.

Witch Hazel: What are the rates?

Greybeard: Well it’s rather easy work, the rates are not so good .. it depends on, on … Look woman, don’t be funnier than me!

[note: at the end I was found to be guilty of being a witch, but did not perish by fire because it took too long to rubbeth two sticks together to create flame. Hurrah! The witch continues to bloggeth]

I do not believeth myself to be a witch, do you? And now I ask thou yonder audience, am I not more fool than witch?


Or more lech than fool?