The Fisher King's wife commiserated with Percival in the waiting room. "There's no such thing as time in the ICU," she said. "Haven't you noticed how all the clocks say different things? And stat seems to mean an hour and a half. I need these blood results stat, they say. Hmph."
She wouldn't allow Sir Percival to call her the Fisher Queen, nor Lady Fisher. At being called Mistress Fisher, she snorted with laughter, and Mrs. Fisher didn't go over much better. Nonetheless, when visiting hours ended at the ICU and the Fisher King's biopsy results were as well understood as the day could make them, she invited the knight to join her and her people for dinner. Some were the King's family, some were his friends, most were loud. Before long it was simpler for Percival just to think of the lot of them as the Fishers.
The wait staff at the Indian restaurant balked for a moment when Percival set the Grail on the table. "What is this BYOB, here?" said the waiter. "We charge a corking fee."
Percival had had this problem before, on other quests. "It's not BYOB. It's BYOG."
Once the orders were placed and the Fishers had puzzled over the preliminary biopsy results, Percival said, "The nurses welcomed me to the team. Is there going to be a tournament? I've never had to stay so long before."
The bossy woman, the one he'd started thinking of as the Queen of Kayaks, said, "You're not running out on us are you? We're in for the duration."
"I never give up on a quest!" He was a little affronted.
So they stood him to a beer and persuaded him to try some chicken tikka masala, which he quite liked.
Although he was beginning to have some doubts about the Grail, it was still full, as always, when he bluffed his way back into the ICU and knelt to keep vigil for the night. A vigil seemed the thing to do. He was in for the duration.