As Joseph of Arimathea it is indeed true that I am quite ancient. Yet, I have never made this confession to anyone until now.
It wasn't grail...Ark. It was more like Ark...grail that came out of my mouth that day.
(Truly we should blame the ale of those Britains, for that was a garbled word, uttered after a fine afternoon of sampline the various ales of the inn in which we'd rested from our journeys.)
Something like "ark..grail" I'd uttered, and those attending had become instantly alert. Ark? Grail? their wild eyes lighted at the prospect. Mary Maggie had all she could do to hold in her twitter. Fortunately, she did not ruin the moment. We have profitted mightily from that ale-borne slip 'o the tongue ever since, if you get my monetary meaning.
But, I'd actually been speaking of our journey, and a dangerous precipice we'd barely survived....saved only by a "guardrail."
But the multiple pints of ale made it come out "Ark...grail."
The coins began to clink into our coffers. So why correct a harmless slur of the tongue?
LOLOL!