Princess Bride
Jan. 15th, 2017 10:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cosmictragedy"It comes to this," Buttercup began. "In the Fire Swamp, I mad the worst mistake in all the world. I love Westley. I always have. It seems I always will. I did not know this when you came to me. Please believe me what I am about to say: when you said that I must marry you or face death, I answered, 'Kill me.' I meant that. I mean this now too: if you say I must marry you in fifty days, I will be dead by morning."
The Prince was literally stunned.
"Have you considered the possibility that he might not now want any longer to marry you?"
Until that moment she had not.
"You were, I hate to remind you, not altogether gentle with his emotions in the Fire Swamp. Forgive me for saying that, beloved, but you did leave him in the lurch, in a manner of speaking."
Buttercup sat down hard, her turn now to be stunned.
The Machine looked so silly Westley was tempted to giggle. Instead, he groaned.
"I'll leave you to your imagination, then," the Count said, and looked over at Westley. "But I want you to know one thing before tomorrow night happens to you, and I mean it: you are the strongest, the most brilliant and brave, the most altogether worthy creature it has ever been my privilege to meet. and I feel almost sad that, for the purposes of my book and future pain scholars, I must destroy you."
"Thank...you..." Westley breathed softly.
The Count turned off the Machine then, and as he pick up his notebooks he said, "As you no doubt know, the concept of the suction pump is centuries old--well, basically, that's all this is, except instead of water, I'm sucking life; I've just sucked away one year of your life. Later I'll set the dial higher, certainly to two or three, perhaps even five. Theoretically, five should be five times more severe than what you've just endured, so please be specific in your answers. Tell me now, honestly, how do you feel?"
In humiliation, and suffering, and frustration, and anger, and anguish so great it was dizzying, Westley cried like a baby.
"Interesting," said the Count, and carefully noted it down.
The Prince move to Westley, "She loves you," the Prince cried. "She loves you still and you love her, so think of that--think of this too: in all this world, you might have been happy, genuinely happy. Not one couple in a century has that chance, not really, no matter what the storybooks say, but you could have had it, and so, I would think, no one will ever suffer a loss as great as you" and with that he grabbed the dial and pushed it all the way forward and the Count cried, "Not to twenty!" but by then it was too late; the death scream had started.
"What are you doing?" Fezzik said, starting to get upset.
"Never mind, I'm just filling his lungs; I guarantee you it ain't hurting him." He stopped pumping the bellows after a few moment more, and then started shouting into Westley's ear: "WHAT'S SO IMPORTANT? WHAT'S HERE WORTH COMING BACK FOR? WHAT YOU GOT WAITING FOR YOU?" Max carried the bellows back to the corner and got out a pen and paper. "It takes a while for that to work its way out, so you might as well answer me some questions. How well do you know this guy?"
"Inigo didn't much want to answer that, since it might have sounded strange admitting they'd only met once alive, and then to duel to the death. "How do you mean exactly?" he replied.
"Well, for example," Max said, "was he ticklish or not?"
"Ticklish?" Inigo exploded angrily. "Ticklish! Life and death are all around and you talk ticklish!"
"Tr...ooooo...luv..."
Fezzik grabbed onto Inigo in panic and they both pivoted, staring at the man in black, who was silent again. " 'True love, ' he said," Inigo cried. "You heard him--true love is what he wants to come back for. That's certainly worth while."
"Sonny, don't you tell me what's worthwhile-- true love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops. Everybody knows that."
"Then you'll save him?" Fezzik said.
"Yes, absolutely, I would save him, if he had said 'true love,' but you misheard, whereas I, being an expert on the bellows cram, will tell you what any qualified tongue man will only be happy to verify--namely that the f sound is the hardest for corpse to master, and that therefore comes out vuh, and what your friend said was 'to blove,' by which he meant, obviously, 'to bluff"-- clearly he is either involved in a shady business deal or a card game and wishes to win, and that is certainly not reason enough for a miracle, I'm sorry, I never change my mind once it's made up, good-by, take your corpse with you."
"Liar! Liar!" shrieked suddenly from the now open trap door.
Miracle Max whirled. "Back, Witch--"
"I'm not a witch, I'm your wife--" she was advancing on him now, an ancient tiny fury-- "and after what you've just done I don't think I want to be that anymore--" Miracle Max tried to calm her but she was having none of it. "He said 'true love,' Max-- even I could hear it-- 'true love,' 'true love.' "
"Don't go on," Max said, and now there was pleading coming from somewhere.
Valerie turned toward Inigo. "He is rejecting you because he is afraid--he is afraid he's done, that the miracles are gone from his once majestic fingers--"
Max fled toward the trap door, his hands going to his ears.
"But this is his fiance's true love," Inigo said then. "If you bring him back life, he will stop Prince Humperdink's marriage--"
Max's hands left his ears. "This corpse here--he comes back to life, Prince Humperdink suffers?"
"Humiliations galore," Inigo said.
"Now that's what I call a worth-while reason," Miracle Max said. "Give me the sixy-five; I'm on the case." He knelt beside Westly. "Hmmm," he said.
"What?" Valerie said. She knew that tone.
"While you were doing all that talking, he's slipped from sort of to mostly dead."
Visibly Valerie's energy drained. She sat wearily down. "Max," she said, tapping his shoulder. "No good."
He looked up. "Huh?"
"They need a fighting corpse."
Max shut the book. "No good," he said.
"But I bought a miracle," Inigo insisted. "I paid you sixty-five."
"Look here--" Valerie thumped Westley's chest-- "nothing. you ever hear anything so hollow? The man's life has been sucked away. It'll take months before there's strength again."
"We haven't got months--it's after one now, and the wedding's at six tonight. What parts can we hope to have in working order in seventeen hours?"
"Well," Max said, considering."Certainly the tongue, absolutely the brain, and, with luck, maybe a little slow walk if you nudge him gently in the right direction."
Inigo looked at Fezzik in despair.
"What can I tell you?" Max said. "You needed a fantasmagoria."
"And you never would have gotten one of those for sixy-five," Valerie added, consolingly.
The Prince was literally stunned.
"Have you considered the possibility that he might not now want any longer to marry you?"
Until that moment she had not.
"You were, I hate to remind you, not altogether gentle with his emotions in the Fire Swamp. Forgive me for saying that, beloved, but you did leave him in the lurch, in a manner of speaking."
Buttercup sat down hard, her turn now to be stunned.
The Machine looked so silly Westley was tempted to giggle. Instead, he groaned.
"I'll leave you to your imagination, then," the Count said, and looked over at Westley. "But I want you to know one thing before tomorrow night happens to you, and I mean it: you are the strongest, the most brilliant and brave, the most altogether worthy creature it has ever been my privilege to meet. and I feel almost sad that, for the purposes of my book and future pain scholars, I must destroy you."
"Thank...you..." Westley breathed softly.
The Count turned off the Machine then, and as he pick up his notebooks he said, "As you no doubt know, the concept of the suction pump is centuries old--well, basically, that's all this is, except instead of water, I'm sucking life; I've just sucked away one year of your life. Later I'll set the dial higher, certainly to two or three, perhaps even five. Theoretically, five should be five times more severe than what you've just endured, so please be specific in your answers. Tell me now, honestly, how do you feel?"
In humiliation, and suffering, and frustration, and anger, and anguish so great it was dizzying, Westley cried like a baby.
"Interesting," said the Count, and carefully noted it down.
The Prince move to Westley, "She loves you," the Prince cried. "She loves you still and you love her, so think of that--think of this too: in all this world, you might have been happy, genuinely happy. Not one couple in a century has that chance, not really, no matter what the storybooks say, but you could have had it, and so, I would think, no one will ever suffer a loss as great as you" and with that he grabbed the dial and pushed it all the way forward and the Count cried, "Not to twenty!" but by then it was too late; the death scream had started.
"What are you doing?" Fezzik said, starting to get upset.
"Never mind, I'm just filling his lungs; I guarantee you it ain't hurting him." He stopped pumping the bellows after a few moment more, and then started shouting into Westley's ear: "WHAT'S SO IMPORTANT? WHAT'S HERE WORTH COMING BACK FOR? WHAT YOU GOT WAITING FOR YOU?" Max carried the bellows back to the corner and got out a pen and paper. "It takes a while for that to work its way out, so you might as well answer me some questions. How well do you know this guy?"
"Inigo didn't much want to answer that, since it might have sounded strange admitting they'd only met once alive, and then to duel to the death. "How do you mean exactly?" he replied.
"Well, for example," Max said, "was he ticklish or not?"
"Ticklish?" Inigo exploded angrily. "Ticklish! Life and death are all around and you talk ticklish!"
"Tr...ooooo...luv..."
Fezzik grabbed onto Inigo in panic and they both pivoted, staring at the man in black, who was silent again. " 'True love, ' he said," Inigo cried. "You heard him--true love is what he wants to come back for. That's certainly worth while."
"Sonny, don't you tell me what's worthwhile-- true love is the best thing in the world, except for cough drops. Everybody knows that."
"Then you'll save him?" Fezzik said.
"Yes, absolutely, I would save him, if he had said 'true love,' but you misheard, whereas I, being an expert on the bellows cram, will tell you what any qualified tongue man will only be happy to verify--namely that the f sound is the hardest for corpse to master, and that therefore comes out vuh, and what your friend said was 'to blove,' by which he meant, obviously, 'to bluff"-- clearly he is either involved in a shady business deal or a card game and wishes to win, and that is certainly not reason enough for a miracle, I'm sorry, I never change my mind once it's made up, good-by, take your corpse with you."
"Liar! Liar!" shrieked suddenly from the now open trap door.
Miracle Max whirled. "Back, Witch--"
"I'm not a witch, I'm your wife--" she was advancing on him now, an ancient tiny fury-- "and after what you've just done I don't think I want to be that anymore--" Miracle Max tried to calm her but she was having none of it. "He said 'true love,' Max-- even I could hear it-- 'true love,' 'true love.' "
"Don't go on," Max said, and now there was pleading coming from somewhere.
Valerie turned toward Inigo. "He is rejecting you because he is afraid--he is afraid he's done, that the miracles are gone from his once majestic fingers--"
Max fled toward the trap door, his hands going to his ears.
"But this is his fiance's true love," Inigo said then. "If you bring him back life, he will stop Prince Humperdink's marriage--"
Max's hands left his ears. "This corpse here--he comes back to life, Prince Humperdink suffers?"
"Humiliations galore," Inigo said.
"Now that's what I call a worth-while reason," Miracle Max said. "Give me the sixy-five; I'm on the case." He knelt beside Westly. "Hmmm," he said.
"What?" Valerie said. She knew that tone.
"While you were doing all that talking, he's slipped from sort of to mostly dead."
Visibly Valerie's energy drained. She sat wearily down. "Max," she said, tapping his shoulder. "No good."
He looked up. "Huh?"
"They need a fighting corpse."
Max shut the book. "No good," he said.
"But I bought a miracle," Inigo insisted. "I paid you sixty-five."
"Look here--" Valerie thumped Westley's chest-- "nothing. you ever hear anything so hollow? The man's life has been sucked away. It'll take months before there's strength again."
"We haven't got months--it's after one now, and the wedding's at six tonight. What parts can we hope to have in working order in seventeen hours?"
"Well," Max said, considering."Certainly the tongue, absolutely the brain, and, with luck, maybe a little slow walk if you nudge him gently in the right direction."
Inigo looked at Fezzik in despair.
"What can I tell you?" Max said. "You needed a fantasmagoria."
"And you never would have gotten one of those for sixy-five," Valerie added, consolingly.
