Just the one. The scene would go something like this.

Imagine a medieval jousting ring. The armed snake slithers alone in the center. I approach it tentativly in my chainmail armor. Chainmail so I can be light on my feet. "You came. I didn't think you'd come once you found out I had these!!" The snake bellows and flexes his arms, which strangely enough are all bicep. "That's what your mother said last night, but she was talking about her breasts." I retort. "Hmmph," the snake snorts. "You've got a lot to learn about the snake anatomy. Snakes don't have breasts hahaha," the snake guffaws loudly. "Ah," say I, with a knowing smile on my face. "Perhaps it is you who needs the anatomy lesson." With this I hoist my weapon skyward, The Snake in the Grass, a quick anatomy lesson: Volume Four and shout out "Snakes don't have arms either." The snake shrieks knowing he's been beaten, and disintegrates into ash, beaten by this sudden onslaught of logic. I walk up to the ash stain and urinate on it to the torrential applause of a devoted crowd.