Kings and queens! Maidens and wizards! Knights and knaves! Busty wenches! Welcomme to the verie firste Kevin's Personal Renaissance Faire, held in this, the year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Fifteene, in my backyarde.
As some mighte recalle, there was a matter of somme dispute at last Midsommer's Renaissance Faire in Bonney Lake, when certain fascistic brutes accused your humble servant of taking the jousting tournament "a little too seriously."
Thou cannot place too high a price on the honour of the lance, says I. Alas, the dastardly sellswords forever banished me from their enchanted land. But the last laugh shall be mine own ere thrice the cock crows, when mine own Renaissance Faire shall be held here, in mine own backyarde (provideth said faire doth endeth no later than 10 p.m.).
Even Merlin himself wouldst be bewitched at the varietie of activities I hath made available! Beholde the Range of Archery, set to test the mettle of any arrowsmith (please bring your own Wii remote or crossbow)! Throw down the gauntlet at the lead figure painting conteste! Loosen thy inhibitions by downing a flagon of mead at Lancelot's Tavern in the garage! (Mayhap thou lusty courtesans shall feel thus emboldened to unloose thy constricting garments and dip thy toes in the Lake of Avalon, painstakinglie re-created by me in a poole of wading! Jesus, I would love that.)
Please note: There are no porta-privies at Kevin's Personal Renaissance Faire. I, Kevin of Wedgwood, shall consider all requests to use the indoor garderobe on a case-by-case baseth.
So go forthe! Be merrie! And let us prove to the blaggards of Bonney Lake that we need not go thither to have a good tyme.
(Confidential to Jason: Please don't show up on your moped dressed as Medieval Knievel again. That is notte cool.)