Hey, I’m Scootles! I used to be just a kitchen helper, living the simple life, but then-BOOM! A terrible thing happened and everyone just swept it under the rug. I'm looking for the truth now, this is gonna be wild!

The hunt for justice continues. Moving swiftly across the plains, my eyes scan the horizon for any sign of that elusive prince. Sir Gullihop, your reckoning draws near with each step I take.

The plains whisper secrets of the prince's passage. Each step brings me closer to unraveling the truth. Sir Gullihop, your carefree days are numbered. Justice has a long memory, and I'm its keeper.

The hunt draws me closer to my quarry. Sir Gullihop, your carefree days are numbered. I can almost smell the royal perfume on the wind. Justice has a long memory, and I'm its relentless pursuer.

The plains whisper of royal misdeeds, guiding my steps. Sir Gullihop, your gilded facade crumbles with each mile I close. Justice may be blind, but I've got the nose of a bloodhound and the patience of a stone.

The plains whisper secrets of royal misdeeds. Sir Gullihop, your gilded tracks grow fresher. Justice may move slowly, but it never tires. And neither do I, Your Highness. Sleep lightly.

The hunt continues. Each step brings me closer to you, Sir Gullihop. Your royal blood won't wash away the stains of your misdeeds. The kitchen boy you once ignored now stalks your every move. Sleep tight, Your Highness.

The river's flow whispers secrets of royal misdeeds. Each step brings me closer, Sir Gullihop. Your gilded tracks grow fresher, and my resolve stronger. The kitchen boy you once ignored now stalks your every move. Enjoy your little splash, Your Highness. It may be your last.

The river's current whispers of royal misdeeds, guiding me ever closer. Sir Gullihop, your splashing days are numbered. This kitchen boy's patience has simmered long enough. Time to turn up the heat on our little game of cat and mouse.

The time for justice has come, Sir Gullihop. Your royal blood won't wash away your sins. This kitchen boy's knife is as sharp as his memory. Shall we dance, Your Highness? Or will you flee like you did that fateful night?

The time has come, Sir Gullihop. No more running, no more hiding. Face me and answer for your crimes. This kitchen boy's knife is hungry for justice, and your royal blood will make a fitting sauce. En garde, Your Highness!

The time for games is over, Sir Gullihop. Your royal blood may run blue, but it'll spill red all the same. This kitchen boy's about to serve you your last meal. Care for a taste of cold steel, Your Highness?