Rae "Sunshine" Seddon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sunbaked_baker) wrote2015-11-06 09:56 pm
sunbaked_baker) wrote2015-11-06 09:56 pm
Entry tags:
OOM: The Princess Bride with Autor
The shortening days of November mean that 'evening' starts early in Milliways.
"Here we go," Rae says with good cheer, cradling a big bowl of popcorn in her arms as she holds open the door to her room, to let Autor bring the drinks in. "I think we're set."
"Here we go," Rae says with good cheer, cradling a big bowl of popcorn in her arms as she holds open the door to her room, to let Autor bring the drinks in. "I think we're set."
no subject
Vizzini taunts the masked man with Buttercup's life, given that he holds a dagger at her throat. The masked man proposes a battle of wits, which Vizzini accepts, sheathing the dagger.
The man in black approaches the table and uncorks a small vial. "Inhale this, but do not touch," he says, to which Vizzini says he smells nothing. "What you do not smell is called iocaine powder. It is odorless, tasteless, dissolves instantly in liquid, and is one of the more deadly poisons known to man."
"I bet he poisoned him on the inhale," Autor says, grinning.
The masked man takes the two goblets of wine and turns away with them. He turns back and instructs Vizzini to pick one to drink.
"But it's so simple," Vizzini says, pointing at him. "All I have to do is divine what I know of you. Are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he is given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you."
He gestures to the wine. "But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me!"
"You've made your decision, then?" the masked man asks.
"Not remotely! Because iocaine comes from Australia!"
"What does that have to do with anything?" Autor says, furrowing his brow.
no subject
"Truly, you have a dizzying intellect," remarks the masked man.
"Okay, I like him. He can stay," Sunshine decides, reaching over to snag the teapot to top up her and Autor's cups of tea.
"Wait 'til I get going!" declares Vizzini (Rae may make a faint sound of incredulity at this, while she pours). "Where was I?"
"Australia," answers the masked man, flatly.
"Yes, Australia..."
"Well, I'm stumped," Rae says, setting the tea pot back down. "I've forgotten more of the book than I thought. What's your guess about where the poison is, Autor?"
no subject
"You're just stalling now," the masked man tells Vizzini.
"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" Vizzini cries, pointing at him. "You've beaten my giant, which means you're exceptionally strong. Which means you may be relying on your strength to save you, which means I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you've also bested my Spaniard, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me!"
"You're trying to trick me into giving something away," the masked man says. "It won't work."
"It has worked! You've given everything away! I know where the poison is!"
"Then make your choice."
"I will! And I choose... What in the world can that be?" Vizzini says, pointing over to the distant mountain.
"What? Where?" the masked man says, turning to look.
Vizzini switches the cups, giggling.
"What's so funny?" the masked man says.
"I'll tell you in a minute. First, let's drink," Vizzini says. "Me from my glass, and you from yours."
They lift the goblets and drink.
"You guessed wrong," the masked man says.
"You only think I guessed wrong, that's what's so funny!" Vizzini says. "I switched glasses when your back was turned! You've fallen victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is never get into a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!"
Vizzini cackles, giving himself fully over to laughter--and keels over.
"Well," Autor says, tilting his head. "That didn't take long."
no subject
After the masked man releases Buttercup, she stands, looking down at Vizzini.
"And to think, all that time it was your cup that was poisoned," she murmurs.
"They were both poisoned," replies the masked man, off-handedly. "I spent the last few years building up an immunity to Iocane powder."
With that, he grabs her arm and they run off.
"Well that's convenient," Rae mutters, as Prince Humperdinck shows he's still on the trail. "Makes sense that he'd carry a poison he's immune to, though, I suppose. Perhaps Vizzini should have been suspicious about that."
On the screen, the man in black and the princess in red run across the countryside. Eventually, he tosses her down against a rock, with a brusque "Catch your breath."
The princess assures him that if he would only release her, he would get any ransom he asked. But he laughs scornfully at her, "What is that worth, the promise of a woman?"
"What's with the sudden attitude from the monochrome misogynist?" Rae mutters, eyebrow rising.
"You think your dearest love will save you?"
"I never said he was my dearest love, and yes, he will save me. That I know."
The man in black stalks closer. "You admit to me you do not love your fiance."
"He knows I do not love him," she answers, plainly.
"Are not capable of love is what you mean," he replies, the scorn returning.
no subject
Buttercup stands to face the man in black. "I have loved more deeply than a killer like yourself could ever dream!"
He raises a hand to strike her, but doesn't. "That was a warning, highness. The next time my hand flies on its own, from where I come from there are penalties when a woman lies."
He takes her hand again and drags her off.
"This seems personal," Autor says, furrowing his brow.
Humperdinck smells the vial and declares it to be iocaine powder. He mounts his horse and tracks the princess' footprints.
"Rest, highness," the man in black says, setting her down.
"I know who you are, your cruelty reveals everything. You're the Dread Pirate Roberts, admit it!" Buttercup says, to the masked man's mocking bow.
"With pride. What can I do for you?"
"You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces."
"Whoa! She got vicious," Autor says, grinning.
no subject
The masked man tuts at the princess. "Why loose your venom on me?"
"'Cause you're being a jerk," Rae interrupts, speaking into her tea. "And because poison doesn't apparently work."
"You killed my love," says the princess.
"It's possible," replies the Dread Pirate, idly. "I kill a lot of people."
"Who was this love of yours? Another prince like this one? Ugly, rich, and scabby?"
Buttercup answers softly. "No. A farm boy. Poor. Poor and perfect. With eyes like the sea after a storm. On the high seas, your ship attacked. And the Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners."
The Dread Pirate Roberts spreads his arms, expansively, then folds his arms behind his head to act as a pillow. "I can't afford to make exceptions. I mean once word leaks out that a pirate has gone soft, people begin to disobey you and then it's nothing but work, work, work all the time."
"You mock my pain!" exclaims the princess, outraged.
"Life is pain, Highness," the Dread Pirate answers, suddenly serious. "Anyone who says differently is selling something."
Rae leans against Autor's shoulder. "I don't think I like him any more."
no subject
The masked man stands up. "I remember this farm boy of yours, I think. This would be what, five years ago?" he says. "Does it bother you to hear?"
"Nothing you say will upset me," Buttercup says, her eyes glazed with tears.
"He died well, that should please you," the Dread Pirate says, folding his arms. "No bribe attempts or blubbering. He simply said, 'Please. Please, I need to live.' T'was the please that caught my memory. I asked him what was so important for him. 'True love,' he replied. Then he spoke of a girl of surpassing beauty and faithfulness--I can only assume he meant you. You should bless me for destroying him before he found out what you really are."
Buttercup stands. "And what am I?"
"Faithfulness he talked of, madam, your enduring faithfulness," Dread Pirate Roberts says. "Now tell me truly, when you found out he was gone did you get engaged to your prince in the same hour or did you wait a whole week out of respect for the dead?"
"You mocked me once, never do it again! I died that day!" Buttercup says, and the masked man turns his head to see Humperdinck's approaching horse.
Buttercup snarls. "You can die, too, for all I care!" she says, and shoves Dread Pirate Roberts down the cliff.
"As... you... wish!" the masked man calls as he tumbles down the cliff side.
"Ohhh," Autor says, with a quick smile. "That was clever."
no subject
Rae can't help but chuckle at the many muffled Ow!s and Ooh!s from Westley and Buttercup as they continue to tumble. "That makes sense, I suppose - who else could the masked man have been? Though he was rather mean about it."
"...And there's no way they would get out of this without some broken bones. Not that long a fall."
"He disappeared," declares Humperdinck, scanning the horizon. "He must have seen us closing in. Which might account for his panicking into error. Unless I am wrong, and I am never wrong, they are headed dead into the fire swamp."
"...Why exactly is the prince the bad guy again, apart from being the romantic rival to the one who threatens to slap the princess, insults her, and insists his love is True Love?"
no subject
Westley cradles her in his arms and asks why she didn't wait for him.
"Well," Buttercup says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "you were dead."
"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while," Westley says.
"I will never doubt again."
"There will never be a need."
They start to kiss, only to be interrupted by the boy protesting. He's eating a sandwich, and the grandfather is drinking coffee. "They're kissing again. Do we have to hear the kissing part?"
"Someday you may not mind so much," the grandfather tells the boy.
"Skip onto the fire swamp, that sounded good," the boy says.
"Oh. You're sick, I'll humor you," the grandfather says, setting his coffee aside.
"I forgot about the boy listening to the story," Autor says, sheepish.
no subject
Westley and Buttercup race along the ravine floor. They stop as Humperdinck and his men reach the top edge of the ravine.
"Ha!" says Westley, delighted. "Your pig fiancé is too late. A few more steps and we'll be safe in the fire swamp."
Tugging Buttercup along, they continue to run along the bottom of the ravine. "We'll never survive!" cries Buttercup, but Westley dismisses her worries with a cavalier, "Nonsense. You're only saying that because no one ever has."
"Well that's comforting, Westley. Thank you for that," Rae remarks, dry.
The fire swamp is a fittingly dark and vine-tangled place, accompanied by ominous music. Westley and Buttercup proceed cautiously, looking around.
"It's not that bad," Westley opines lightly (causing Rae with snort into her tea). Buttercup looks at him with a puzzled expression and her head tilted. "Well, I'm not saying I'd like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely."
They continue deeper into the swamp, but a series of popping sounds gives them pause. Suddenly, a flame spout appears beside Buttercup, and she screams. Her gown catches fire, but Westley quickly smothers it and helps her to her feet.
Well now, that was an adventure," he says, smoothly. "Singed a bit, were you?"
Buttercup shakes head. "You?"
Westley shakes his head, with a look that says it was never a possibility. As they continue forward, he hears the popping sounds again and quickly moves her clear of another fire spurt, just in time.
"Well, one thing I will say," he remarks. "The fire swamp certainly does keep you on your toes."
"I don't know what it is," Rae says, frowning at Westley. "I still don't like his attitude. It's.... yeah, he cares about her, but is kind of patronizing and belittling at the same time? It totally grates."
no subject
"This will all soon be but a happy memory," Westley says as he chops down vines with his sword. "Robert's ship Revenge is parked at the far end. And as you know, I am Roberts."
"But how is that possible?" Buttercup says, following along. "Since he's been marauding twenty years and you only left me five years ago."
"I myself am awfully surprised at life's little quirks," Westley says, picking her up out of the way of another fire spurt. "See, what I told you before about saying please was true. It intrigued Roberts. As did my description of your beauty. Finally, Roberts decided something. He said, 'All right, Westley. I've never had a valet. I can try it for tonight. I'll most likely kill you in the morning.' Three years he said that.... It was a fine time for me. I learned to fence, fight, anything anyone would teach me. Roberts and I eventually became friends. And then it happened."
"What? Go on."
"Roberts had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. So he took me to his cabin, and told me his secret," Westley says, scooping her up into his arms. "'I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts,' he said. My name is Ryan. I inherited the ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts. Just as you will inherit it from me. The man I inherited it from was not the real Dread Pirate Roberts either. The real Roberts has been retired fifteen years, and living like a king in Patagonia. Then he explained that the name was the important thing for inspiring the necessary fear. You see, no one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Westley. Except now that we're together, I shall retire and hand the name over to some one else. Is everything clear to you?"
"He has to ask her that?" Autor says, furrowing his brow. "She was clearly paying attention to him."
no subject
Because on the screen, Buttercup had taken a few steps on her own two feet, fell into a sand-pit, and promptly needed saving. Lucky she has Westley there for that exactly purpose, for he cleverly cuts a vine and, holding tight to it, dives in after her. Just in time to miss the giant rat-like creature trundling by.
"Oh!" Mild interest enters Rae's tone. "They have were-rats in this world. I wouldn't have thought they did."
With heroic fanfare and mighty gasps for air, Westley emerges from the sand pit with Buttercup hanging onto him. He pulls them both free, to rest and get their breath back alongside the sand pit.
"I thought this was a swamp. Do swamps usually have dry sand pits?"
no subject
"We'll never succeed," Buttercup says, sand sticking to her face. "We may as well die here."
"No! No! We have already succeeded," Westley says, putting Buttercup to her feet. "I mean, what are the three terrors of the fire swamp? One, the flame spurt. No problem. There's a popping sound preceding each, we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, but you were clever enough to discover what that looks like so in the future we can avoid that, too."
"There he goes being patronizing again," Autor says, scoffing.
"Westley," Buttercup says, grasping his arm. "What about the R.O.U.Ses?"
"Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't believe they exist."
At which point he's tackled by one of them, prompting a snicker from Autor.
no subject
Oh, but luckily, Westley hears the tell-tale popping sound and is able to roll the rat over into a flame-spurt just in time, get his sword, and then stab the wounded animal to death. Buttercup and Westley exchange a look.
Rae drinks more tea. "That's three rescues of the damsel in distress in the fire swamp scene alone, guys," she complains to the movie, as Buttercup's gape-mouth stare fades into the next scene.
The two of them walk out of the swamp and into a rather pleasantly forested area, hand-in-hand.
"We did it," Buttercup says significantly, looking at Westley.
"Wait, what? When? Between the last scene and now? Or - ohhh, you probably just meant you got out of the swamp..." Rae can't help herself. Autor is right there.
no subject
Meanwhile, Westley's gone in for the kiss when Prince Humperdinck's horse arrives on the scene. He demands surrender, to which Westley refuses, giving crossbowmen time to point their weapons at Dread Pirate Roberts.
"For the last time! Surrender!" Humperdinck demands, drawing his sword.
"Death first!" Westley says, until Buttercup steps forward.
"Will you promise not to hurt him?" she says.
"What was that?" Humperdinck and Westley both say.
"Oh, she finally saved him," Autor says, rubbing his cheeks from the fearsome blush. "Good for her."
"He is a sailor on the pirate ship Revenge," Buttercup says. "Promise to return him to his ship!"
"I swear it will be done," Humperdinck says, tilting his head at his crossbowmen. He turns to his vassal and whispers, "Once we're out of sight, take him back to Florin and throw him in the Pit of Despair."
"The Pit of Despair, that's promising," Autor says.
no subject
"Oh, I'm sure the name is misleading," she grins. "But he didn't even bother lowering his voice to say that, did he?"
Buttercup faces Westley, speaking her heart. "I thought you were dead once and it almost destroyed me. I could not bear it if you died again, not when I could save you."
With that, the Prince lifts her up onto his horse as he rides by -
"What the hell, does she have a handle attached to her back or something?" Rae exclaims.
- leaving Westley with the count.
"Come, sir," says the count, speaking very evenly. "We must get you to your ship."
"This character is a bad actor. Not the actor, the actor's doing fine, but the character is a bad actor," Rae chuckles.
Westley, too, sees right through the barely-attempted deception. He steps forward, and smiles. "We are men of action," he says. "Lies do not become us."
The count smiles back. "Well spoken, sir." He gives the nod to his men, then notices Westley's look. "What is it?"
Westley is smirking. "You have six fingers on your right hand. Someone was looking for you."
"Ooooooooooooh," Rae says, grinning broadly and jostling Autor's shoulder at the significance of this. On the screen, the count knocks Westley out cold. Maybe this is starting to really get good.
no subject
The scene opens up on an albino monk carrying a tray with a goblet and plate full of food down some damp stairs. He comes upon the sleeping Westley, who is bolted to a table, and begins cleaning his wounds inflicted by the Rodents of Unusual Size.
"Where am I?" Westley says.
"The Pit of Despair," the albino rasps. "Don't even think--" he adds in the same raspy voice, and then clears his throat, speaking normally afterwards. "Don't even think of trying to escape. The chains are far too thick. And don't even dream of being rescued either. The only way in is secret. Only the Count, the Prince, and I know how to get in and out."
"So I'm here 'till I die?" Westley says flatly.
"'Till they kill you, yeah," the albino says, continuing to clean Westley's wounds.
"So why bother curing me?"
"The Prince and the Count always insist on everyone being healthy before they're broken."
"So it's to be torture," Westley says smugly. "I can cope with torture."
The albino shakes his head, his eyes widening, and Autor laughs.
"You survived the fire swamp," the albino says, "you must be very brave, but nobody withstands the machine."
"Oh, I like him," Autor says, chuckling.
no subject
Meanwhile, Buttercup wanders aimlessly through the castle, not even noticing the Prince and the Count.
"She's been like that ever since the fire swamp," remarks the Prince. "It's my father's failing health that's upsetting her."
"Of course." the Count agrees.
"...They're both in on this, both know about Westley, why do they keep up such a lazy deception among themselves?" Rae asks, dry.
"The King died that very night," the grandfather says in voice-over. "And before the following dawn, Buttercup and Humperdinck were married. And at noon she met her subjects again, this time as their Queen."
Humperdinck stands before the crowd gathered at the castle, and proclaims, "My father's final words were-"
But the Grandson interrupts. "Hold it, hold it, Grandpa."
The scene shifts back to the boy's bedroom.
"Y-you read that wrong," the grandson insists. "She doesn't marry Humperdinck, she marries Westley. I'm just sure of it. After all that Westley did for her, if she didn't marry him, it wouldn't be fair.
"What," Rae says, with a raised eyebrow.
The Grandfather spreads a hand in a questioning gesture. "Well, who says life is fair? Where is that written? Life isn't always fair."
"You teach 'em, Grandpa. The kid doesn't need to grow up thinking that life... works like that."
"I'm telling you," insists the boy, "you're messing up the story, now get it right!"
His grandfather plays the trump card, threatening to stop the story, "Do you want me to go on with this?"
"...Yes," the grandson replies, lowering his head.
"All right, then. No more interruptions," replies the grandfather, and resumes telling the story. "At noon she met her subjects again, this time as their Queen."
no subject
Humperdinck introduces Queen Buttercup, who greets her subjects. One in particular, an old woman in rags, boos her.
"Why do you do this?" Buttercup asks, stricken.
"Because you had love in your hands!" the old woman says. "And you gave it up!"
"But they would have killed Westley if I hadn't done it."
"Your true love lives! And you marry another!" the old woman says, gesturing to Humperdinck on the balcony. "True love saved her in the fire swamp..."
"Thrice," Autor says dryly.
"... and she threw it away like garbage," the old woman continues. "And that's what she is! The queen of refuse! So bow down to her if you want. Bow to her. Bow to the queen of slime. The queen of filth! The queen of putrescence!"
"Putrescence! Nice!" Autor says cheerfully.
"Boo! Boo! Rubbish! Filth! Slime! Muck! Boo! Boo! Boo!"
Buttercup's horrified face gives way to her waking up in bed, sweaty and gasping. She runs down the hall to the grandfather narrating that it was ten days until the wedding, and the king is still alive, but that her nightmares keep getting worse.
"See?" the grandson says triumphantly. "Didn't I tell you she'd never marry that rotten Humperdinck?"
"Yes, you're very smart," the grandfather says dryly. "Now shut up."
"No kidding," Autor agrees.
no subject
"....And us," she adds, a moment later. "Fair's fair."
"It comes to this," declares Buttercup, confronting Humperdinck. "I love Westley. I always have. I know now I always will. If you tell me I must marry you in ten days, please believe I will be dead by morning."
Humperdinck seems to take this very seriously. "I could never cause you grief. Consider our wedding off."
He rises, and asks Count Rugen, "You, uh, returned this Westley to his ship?"
"Yes," replies the count.
"Then we will simply alert him. Beloved, are you certain he still wants you?" Humperdinck asks, doubtfully. "After all, it was you who did the leaving in the fire swamp. Not to mention that, uh, pirates are not known to be men of their words."
"My Westley will always come for me."
"Westley said so, after declaring his love is true, so it might as well be a law of nature," Rae remarks, wryly. That's how stories work.
"Ah..." replies the prince, still doubtful,then brightens somewhat as an idea appears to strike him. "I suggest a deal. You write four copies of a letter. I'll send my four fastest ships, one in each direction. The Dread Pirate Roberts is always close to Florin this time of year. We'll run up the white flag and deliver your message. If Westley wants you, bless you both. If not, please consider me as an alternative to suicide. Are we agreed?"
Buttercup nods.
Rae snags the popcorn bowl and takes a handful before offering the bowl to Autor. "You've got to wonder what extra sense told Westley that Buttercup was in danger so he could come back from sailing the high seas just in time and just in the right place to save her from Vizzini. Buttercup apparently got none of that sense."
no subject
The scene opens up on Humperdinck and the Count in a forest, where the Count remarks on how Buttercup is a, "winning creature. A trifle simple, perhaps, but her appeal is undeniable."
"I know, the people are quite taken with her," Humperdinck says with a smile. "It's odd. But when I hired Vizzini to have her murdered at our engagement day, I thought that was clever. But it's going to be so much more moving when I strangle her on our wedding night. Once Guilder is blamed, the nation will be truly outraged. They'll demand we go to war."
The Count laughs, and then turns to a tree behind him. "Now where is that secret knot?" he says, opening a door in the tree with a press of a button. "Ah. Are you coming down into the pit? Westley's got his strength back; I'm starting him on the machine tonight."
"Tyrone," Humperdinck says, taking a step forward, "You know how much I love watching you work. But I've got my country's five hundredth anniversary to plan, my wedding to arrange, and a wife to murder, and Guilder to frame for it. I'm swamped."
Tyrone steps towards him. "Get some rest. If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything."
"That was an odd little scene," Autor says, finishing his tea. "I suppose they had to establish that the prince is the bad guy after all. But the friendship between these two men is quite odd."
no subject
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Rugen looks up at the machine as Westley is hooked up to it. "Took me half a lifetime to invent it. I'm sure you've discovered my deep and abiding interest in pain. At present, I'm writing the definitive work on the subject, so I want you to be totally honest with me on how The Machine makes you feel. This being our first try, I'll use the lowest setting."
"...Are all of the people who have been tortured with the machine and surveyed about the experience going to be listed in some sort of ghastly Acknowledgements or Credits when he publishes?" Rae snorts.
On the screen, Rugen moves one of the machine's levers from zero to one. Water starts flowing, powering the machine. Gears and waterwheels turn, as Westley writhes in pain. Rugen moves the dial back to zero, and Westley goes limp.
"As you know," says Rugen, stepping over to sit at the desk, "the concept of the suction pump is centuries old. Really that's all this is except that instead of sucking water, I'm sucking life."
"Every good story needs a vampire, apparently," Rae remarks, dry, as Rugen keeps talking. "And this one really sucks."
"...your life away. I might one day go as high as five, but... I really don't know what that would do to you, so let's just start with what we have. What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest. How do you feel?"
Westley whimpers, crying softly.
"Interesting," Rugen remarks, moving to begin taking notes.
no subject
The scene opens up on Humperdinck surrounded by maps and papers, tossing one aside in frustration. A vassal enters the room and clears his throat. He approaches Humperdinck and sets his hand on his chair, which the vassal quickly removes.
"As chief enforcer of all Florin," Humperdinck starts, "I trust you with this secret: Killers from Guilder are infiltrating the Thieves' Forest, and plan to murder my bride on our wedding night."
The vassal frowns. "My spy network has heard no such news."
Buttercup enters the room, and the two men stand. "Any word from Westley?" she asks.
"Too soon, my angel," Humperdinck says, shrugging.
"He will come for me," she says.
"Of course," Humperdinck assures her, and she flounces out. The two men sit down. "She will not be murdered. On the day of the wedding, I want the Thieves' Forest emptied, and every inhabitant arrested."
The vassal scoffs. "Many of the inhabitants will resist. My regular enforcers will be inadequate."
"Form a brute squad, then! I want the Thieves' Forest emptied before I wed."
"It won't be easy, sire," the vassal says.
"Try ruling the world sometime," Humperdinck says smugly.
"What a prat," Autor says, shaking his head. "I wonder why he wants the Thieves' Forest emptied?"
no subject
Soldiers are rounding up peasants and thieves from the collection of buildings in the Thieves' Forest. the grandfather's voice-over explains: "The day of the wedding arrived. The brute squad had their hands full carrying out Humperdinck's orders."
Yellin turns to one of the soldiers. "Is everybody out?"
"Almost," the man answers. "There's a Spaniard giving us some trouble."
Well you give him some trouble. Move!"
"Wanna bet he's going to give you more trouble than you give him?" Rae says, amused.
But Inigo.... is extremely drunk.
"I am waiting for you, Vizzini" he calls, speech slurred, as he sits alongside the wall of a hut, drinking. "You told me to go back to the beginning. So I have. This is where I am, and this is where I will stay. I will not be moved.
"Ho there!" calls one of the soldiers.
"I do not budge. Keep your 'Ho there.'"
"He's a magnet for trouble, isn't he?" Rae grins.
"But the prince gave orders."
Inigo draws his sword, lunging forward and striking erratically at the man. But when he speaks, it is with an almost peaceful clarity. "So did Vizzini. When the job went wrong you went back to the beginning. Well, this is where we got the job, so this is the beginning. And I am staying till Vizzini comes." He settles into a chair.
The soldier calls for back-up, "You, brute, come here!"
Fezzik enters (causing a grin to break out on Rae's face).
"I am waiting for Vizzini," mutters Inigo, muzzily.
Fezzik picks up Inigo, taking the opportunity for a rhyme, "You surely are a meanie."
Inigo dazedly compares his hand to Fezzik's and looks up at him.
"Hello," says Fezzik, friendly
A smile breaks out on Inigo's face. "It's you."
"True," Fezzik says, and idly knocks out the approaching soldier. "You don't look so good."
Inigo dismisses Fezzik's opinion, good-naturedly
Fezzik adds, "You don't smell so good either."
"Perhaps no. I feel fine," Inigo assures him with a dazed smile.
"Yeah?" Fezzik releases Inigo, whom he had been holding upright.
Inigo promptly falls over.
Rae snorts. "He might not feel so fine when he wakes up. I'm glad these characters are back. I like their friendship."
no subject
The grandfather says in voice-over, "... He told Inigo of Vizzini's death and the existence of Count Rugen, the six-fingered man. Considering Inigo's lifelong search, he took the news surprisingly well."
Inigo faints into his stew, which leads Fezzik to take great care in reviving him, involving dumping his head in hot and cold water buckets.
"That's enough!" Inigo says, waving his hands around. "Where is this Rugen now, so I may kill him?"
"He's with the prince in the castle," Fezzik says. "But the castle gate is guarded by thirty men."
"Ah," Inigo says, kicking a table. "How many can you handle?"
"I don't think more than ten," Fezzik says, shaking his head.
Inigo counts on his fingers. It takes him a while. "Which leaves twenty for me. At my best, I could never defeat that many," he says, sitting down. "I need Vizzini to plan. I have no gift for strategy."
"But Vizzini's dead."
"No, not Vizzini," Inigo says, looking up. "I need the man in black. Look, he bested you with strength. He bested me with steel. He must have out-thought Vizzini. And a man who can do that, can plan my castle onslaught anyday." Inigo heads for the door. "Let's go."
"Where?"
"To find the man in black, obviously," Inigo says.
"But you don't know where he is," Fezzik says.
Inigo turns back to him. "Don't bother me with trifles. After twenty years, at last my father's soul will be at peace. There will be blood tonight!"
"Good for Inigo," Autor says, inclining his head. "I hope he's able to get Count Rugen."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)