“This is a skill I’m never going to need, old man.”
Don Quixote wasn’t one to be discouraged by an unwilling student. “Nonsense, my good friend. One must always be prepared for battle, even in the most unlikely of places.”
“Yeah, well.” The clown spared a glance at their surroundings. “Unless these sunflowers are actually evil monsters in disguise, I don’t think we’ll get into much trouble out here.”
“Nonetheless, one should be prepared.” Quixote handed the clown a spear. Which is to say, a broomstick.
“What the hell is this?”
“Language, my friend!” Quixote rapped the clown across the knuckles with his own spear (which was, in an earlier life, a hockey stick). The clown stared at him in very obvious disbelief.
“One must also be prepared to use whatever weapon happens to be on hand.” When the clown made no attempt to shake his disbelief, Quixote turned him around and adjusted his spear. “Now, aim for that big fellow with the yellow petals. He looks slightly more dangerous than his compatriots.”