Everyone knows about the great knightly orders of the Crusades, like the Templars or the Knights Hospitaller. However, due to the many deeds of the aforementioned Knights, one order has been completely glazed over by history; the Knights Comicae.

Founded in the city of Genoa by a bored apothecary named Guido Stultia, the Knights Comicae were devoted to reclaiming the Holy Lands not by force, but by humor. Their intention was to enter the court of the Caliph and threaten to tell him jokes until he capitulated and surrendered Jerusalem. If it isn’t strikingly obvious already, Guido was not the brightest man to ever grace the city of Genoa.

When rumor got out that a new order of Knights had been founded in Genoa, the populace started buzzing with the idea of their own order going to liberate Jerusalem. Of course the rumors were not about a poor pharmacist who was slightly off the deep end, but tended to be more dashing. To disambiguate the nature of the new order, Guido printed hundreds of pamphlets to distribute to the people, which read; “The new order of Knights is actually under me, Guido Stultia, and we want to claim back the holy lands by use of jokes. Please join.”

Public interest in the order soon died out.

However, one man was so compelled by the eloquence of Guido’s pamphlet that he did indeed join. He was a porcine man with an extra fifty pounds hanging off of his belly and he too didn’t have all his marbles. His name was Calvino Egidio, and he so believed in the cause of the Knights Comicae, he sold everything he had to pay for the journey to Jerusalem. This only consisted of a shanty and small pumpkin patch, but both men saw it as a supreme sacrifice.

Guido was convinced that the Knights Comicae had enough of a following to pursue their quest of liberating Jerusalem. They had a little bit of money that they assumed would cover their expenses, while transport would come from good Christian merchants would should support their Crusade. Guido was wrong on both accounts.

He had booked a trip with one such merchant sailing towards Seleucia, and then the planned on following a caravan the rest of the way to Jerusalem. Assuming that he was getting paid, the merchant gladly took them onto his boat and set sail. Of course, he was rather upset when Guido told him that he was ferrying them across the Mediterranean out of the piety in his heart. Instead, Guido and Calvino were forced to work their way across the sea, partaking in such tasks as rowing and swabbing the decks.

Luckily for the two crusaders, their debt was not paid off by the time they reached Seleucia. Instead of being kicked off the ship hundreds of miles from Jerusalem without any money, they instead worked during the ship’s next voyage; from Seleucia to Ashkelon, which was but a short walk away from Jerusalem.

Arriving in Ashkelon, they hastily painted a red cross on their clothes and began walking towards Jerusalem. You can imagine the problems the local magistrates had with such bedecked individuals prowling their land, so they sent a man to watch over Guido and Calvino to keep them out of trouble.

By the time the guard caught up with them, there was quite the crowd following the knights, so translators were present. The two knights told the guard that they intended to threaten the Caliph with silly jokes until, out of fear of laughing himself to death, he would give them Jerusalem. Like the rest of the crowd, he decided to follow them out of curiosity, just to see what would happen to the Knights Comicae.

The Caliph got word of the group approaching Jerusalem, and invited them into his palace to meet him personally. He had heard of their cause, but wanted to see their madness first-hand.

The two knights entered the palace, bowed slightly to his eminence the Caliph, and began;

“My dog has no nose,” said Guido.

“How does he smell?” asked Calvino.

“Awful!” replied Guido.

The Caliph thought about it for a second, and then chuckled a little. Guido went on and said, “Your grace Caliph, we mean to give Jerusalem back to Christendom. We will tell you silly jokes until you can take it no longer and surrender the city.”

This made the Caliph double over in laughter, more so than any of their jokes would have. The knights didn’t gain Jerusalem, but the Caliph did agree to pay for a one-week vacation, the price of returning to Genoa, and also to pay for the loss of the pumpkin patch.

This story is still told and laughed at today by the Arabic world.

“Carlos, I need to ask you for a favor.”

Those words sent a sinking feeling down my spine. The voice on the other end belonged to Dave, a superior I’d been sucking up for any chance of advancement. Now he was asking me to housesit while he helped his daughter Rebecca move in with her new fiancée.

This was beyond the scope of office politics, and my first instinct was to say “no”. But between the hints of rewards and the barely-hidden desperation in his voice, I agreed. Thus several hours later, I arrived at his three-bedroom two-bath “cottage”, nestled in some woods and near a small lake. I sighed, knowing it was more luxurious than I’d likely ever be able to afford. Slowly I pulled my ‘98 Dodge Caravan into the driveway next to his new Lexus.

Being in a rush, there was only time for Dave to exchange pleasantries, tell me what I could use and what I couldn’t, and depart. Dave was always straightforward (one reason I’d agreed is that I never had to disambiguate his words), but still I felt like a teenage babysitter.

I quickly made myself at home, turning on the TV and scrounging up something to eat from the kitchen. Eventually I settled on an imported beer and a container of glazed ham with some wild rice and pumpkin squash. After the long drive, I certainly didn’t feel like preparing anything.

Though soon, I was reclining in a leather chair in his living room, I couldn’t help but fidget. “Probably just being in a strange place.” I told myself, trying to ignore the sense of quiet (compared to the heart of the city where I lived) and isolation I felt. Still, I made sure to avoid any horror movies, just in case. Still, when a crash of thunder sounded hours later, I fear my heart skipped a beat. At least the sound of rain falling was comforting, even after its increased intensity started making a few channels fuzzy.

“Or maybe that’s just sleepiness talking.” I thought to myself, noting it was near the time I’d go to bed, even now on the weekend. I flipped off the TV and took care of my dishes.

Arriving at the secondary bedroom, I let out a groan. It was being converted it to a trophy room, with deer racks, a pair of rabbits, and even the head of a wild boar above the doorframe. Given the heebie-jeebies I’d been experiencing, I knew I’d never get to sleep staring into a pair of porcine eyes, and went off to find the third bedroom. It was in a corner of the house, its color scheme suggested it had been Rebecca’s room before she moved away, but at this point I wasn’t complaining.

After slipping into my pajamas, I crawled underneath the covers. I tossed and turned for a bit, but obviously sleep must have come. The next thing I know, I’m jarred awake by a loud banging noise outside. Thunder? No, the storm had passed. The clatter continued, and after some inner debate, decided I simply had to check it out.

After slipping on moccasins and rummaging through some drawers until I found a flashlight, I flipped on a porch light before heading outside. From the doorway all I could see were shadows and trees. I knew the noise had come from around a corner that now seemed extremely far away. Steeling my courage, I took slow, careful steps next to the house. Sticking my head around the corner and ready for the worst, I discovered… a couple of trashcans, one of them tipped over.

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Must have been an animal.” I thought, moving to upright the can again. I was right, too, although I wouldn’t realize it until I came nearly face-to-face with a raccoon. Simultaneously, both of us let out a small scream.

“Stay…stay…stay…” I repeated. But my attempts to inculcate failed, the beast taking the first chance to escape it could get. As it neared, I cringed. Mere contact with most animals' fur caused a rash so bad, I'd often been forced me to seek an apothecary. And even if I weren’t, no way would I want to be near this crazed, strange and possibly rabid creature! In desperation, I loosened a moccasin and flipped it at my assailant with my toes.

Luck was with me, and it smacked against the raccoon’s face. Probably just stunned it, but I didn’t stick around. No, I rushed back into the house, locked the door, and hunkered on the couch. My last thoughts before exhaustion claimed me involved counting down how long it would be before I could leave.