Humphrey performs a salute of such solemn gravity that it takes nearly thirty seconds and involves three separate bows. The Goat eats another corner of the programme. "I shall require you to announce the bout," Humphrey informs Reginald. "I shall require," says Reginald, "to be literally anywhere else." Nevertheless, he opens his satchel. Several things fall out. He finds a scroll. Humphrey mounts his horse with the sort of confidence that peaks halfway through and becomes something more negotiable on the way up. The horse accepts this philosophically. Eventually, knight and horse face the Goat across thirty feet of churned mud where the lists used to be. There are no lists. There is no opposing knight on an opposing horse. There is only the Goat, hat at a slight angle, regarding Humphrey with the expression of a creature that has no particular opinion about being jousted at and intends to maintain that position. Reginald unrolls the scroll. He clears his throat. "Commencing," he announces, with the tone of a man filing his own obituary.