Fool (novel)

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Fool written by Christopher Moore.

Pocket (Black Fool)[edit]

  • Heinous Fuckery Most Foul!
  • Fuckstockings!
Ch 14 - On Tender Horns - pg 176
  • At your fucking service.
  • Said I in perfect fucking French.
  • Gentle spook, if it is a warning you bring state it true. If action you require ask outright. If music you must make play on but by the wine stained balls of Bacchus speak your bloody business quick and clear and then be gone before times iron tongue licks away my mercy bonk with second thoughts!
  • And once I shagged Regan on a platter of pork in front of Muslims.


  • She's a bloody vision of loveliness.
  • I shagged a ghost!
Ch 14 - On Tender Horns - pg 167
  • I fink I gots deaf on me willie.
Ch 14 - On Tender Horns - pg 170



  • And so that is the story of how St. Rufus of Pipewrench was licked to death by marmots.
  • [To the Bishop after being found servicing Pocket] Fancy a spot of stony bonking before Vespers?

Kent / Caius[edit]



King Lear[edit]


  • Tosser!
Ch 1 - Always A Bloody Ghost - pg 3
  • Piss off!
Ch 1 - Always A Bloody Ghost - pg 3


Mary: You can read?
Pocket: I was raised in a nunnery wench. I'm a walking library of learning bound in comely leather suitable for stroking at your service should you fancy a bit of culture to go with your lack of breeding or vice verse of course.

Cordelia: You honor us Fool. Did you hear rumors of small animals to hurt or ya hoping to accidentally surprise me in my bath again?
Pocket: I was lost Milady.
Cordelia: A dozen times?

The Ghost: I'm sorry to haunt you while you're rogering the help.
Pocket: The rogering has not commenced wisp. I have barely bridled the horse for a moist and boardy ride. Now Go Away!

King Lear: What is your name?
Kent / Caius: Caius.
King Lear: And whence do you hale?
Kent / Caius: From bonking sire.
King Lear: Well, yes lad as do we all...

King Lear: How hath my fool offended?
Regan: He hath shagged me roughly, against my will, and finished too soon.
King Lear: By force? Pocket? He isn't eight stone on a feast day - he couldn't shag a cat by force.
Pocket: That's not true, sire. If the cat is distracted with a trout, then - well, uh, nevermind-.
Ch 14 - On Tender Horns - pg 177

Regan: Smell Him. He reeks of sex, like fish and mushroom and sweat, doesn't he?
Pocket: Aye, your honor, I'm sure I have an odor about me. I must confess, I was sans trou today in the kitchen, while awaiting my laundry, and Bubble had left a casserole out on the floor to cool, and it did trip me and I fell prick-deep in gravy and goo-but I was on my way to chapel at the time.
King Lear: [To Pocket] You put your dick in my lunch?
King Lear: [Now to the bailiff] The fool put his dick in my lunch?
Regan: No, in your beloved daughter
King Lear: Quiet, girl! Captain Curan, send a guard to watch the bread and the cheese before the fool has his way with it.
Ch 14 - On Tender Horns - pg 179

Pocket: Do you know that there's no fool piece on the chessboard, Kent?
Kent: Methinks the fool is the player, the mind above the moves.
Pocket: Well, that's a scratchy spot of cat wank. But bloody well said.
Ch 15 - In a Lover's Eye - pg 184

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