Quoth The Raven...
Posted: Fri Jul 01, 2016 9:57 pm
The scene opens up inside of a dimly lit study, Cactus Jack is sitting at the desk, a quill in hand and parchment laid out in front of him. A few candles here and there around the room provide the soft fluttering light. He’s wearing an old fashioned crushed velvet dressing gown.
“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint curious volume of forgotten lore… While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.”
As he speaks the soft knocking is heard.
“Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door… Only this and nothing more. Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow from my books surcease of sorrow… sorrow for the lost Lenore… For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore… Nameless here for evermore.”
Jack looks up at the camera, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.
“And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me… filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; so that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door… Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door… that it is and nothing more.”
The soft knocking is heard again and Cactus glances sideways at the door.
“Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, sir, said I, or Madame, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you cam rapping, and so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, that I scarce was sure I heard you… here I opened wide the door.”
Standing, Cactus Jack reaches over behind the desk, pulling out the familiar barbwire wrapped baseball bat and moving to the door, opening it to reveal just a gaping hole of black.
“Darkness there and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; but the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, and the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore? This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore! Merely this and nothing more.”
Looking into the darkness a moment, he turns with a shrug, swinging the door shut and putting the bat up on his shoulder.
“Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, soon again I heard the tapping somewhat louder than before. Surely, said I, surely that is something at my window lattice; let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore… Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore… Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Moving back to the desk he sets Barbie down on top of it and turns to the window.
“Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, in there stepped a Raven of the saintly days of yore.”
Opening the window, Cactus looks down at the Raven perched on the sill and then to the camera.
“AND SO I RIPPED ITS GOD DAMN HEAD OFF!”
He shouts as he grabs the bird, twisting the head until it pops off, throwing both halves of the bird out the window before slamming it shut. Breathing deeply, he turns to the camera with those familiar wild eyes.
“The death of the bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, to grave I sent him with the joy within my heart I bore, though thy ass I will be kicking, I said, your bones the birds are now picking, ghastly grim you ancient Raven, your blood I gladly spill upon the floor. At King of the Ring, when I leave you bruised and battered, splattered, tattered, and left clattered there upon the floor. Oh then, you silly Raven, then… will you be leaving behind a legacy in which you will be remembered… to Quoth the Raven… Nevermore.”
He provides that sick twisted grin as the scene fades out.
“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint curious volume of forgotten lore… While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.”
As he speaks the soft knocking is heard.
“Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door… Only this and nothing more. Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow from my books surcease of sorrow… sorrow for the lost Lenore… For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore… Nameless here for evermore.”
Jack looks up at the camera, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.
“And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me… filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; so that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door… Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door… that it is and nothing more.”
The soft knocking is heard again and Cactus glances sideways at the door.
“Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, sir, said I, or Madame, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you cam rapping, and so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, that I scarce was sure I heard you… here I opened wide the door.”
Standing, Cactus Jack reaches over behind the desk, pulling out the familiar barbwire wrapped baseball bat and moving to the door, opening it to reveal just a gaping hole of black.
“Darkness there and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; but the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, and the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore? This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore! Merely this and nothing more.”
Looking into the darkness a moment, he turns with a shrug, swinging the door shut and putting the bat up on his shoulder.
“Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, soon again I heard the tapping somewhat louder than before. Surely, said I, surely that is something at my window lattice; let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore… Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore… Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Moving back to the desk he sets Barbie down on top of it and turns to the window.
“Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, in there stepped a Raven of the saintly days of yore.”
Opening the window, Cactus looks down at the Raven perched on the sill and then to the camera.
“AND SO I RIPPED ITS GOD DAMN HEAD OFF!”
He shouts as he grabs the bird, twisting the head until it pops off, throwing both halves of the bird out the window before slamming it shut. Breathing deeply, he turns to the camera with those familiar wild eyes.
“The death of the bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, to grave I sent him with the joy within my heart I bore, though thy ass I will be kicking, I said, your bones the birds are now picking, ghastly grim you ancient Raven, your blood I gladly spill upon the floor. At King of the Ring, when I leave you bruised and battered, splattered, tattered, and left clattered there upon the floor. Oh then, you silly Raven, then… will you be leaving behind a legacy in which you will be remembered… to Quoth the Raven… Nevermore.”
He provides that sick twisted grin as the scene fades out.