The Princess Bride
“Fezzik had no idea how long he was unconscious. He only knew, as he staggered to his feet on the mountain path, that his throat was very sore where the man in black had strangled him. “What to do?
“The plans had all gone wrong. Fezzik closed his eyes, trying to thinkthere was a proper place to go when plans went wrong, but he couldn’t quite remember it. Inigo had even made a rhyme up for him so he wouldn’t forget, and now, even with that, he was so stupid he had forgotten. Was that it? Was it ‘Stupid, stupid, go and wait for Vizzini with Cupid’? That rhymed, but where was the Cupid? ‘Dummy, dummy, go out now and fill your tummy.’ That rhymed too, but what kind of instructions were those? “What to do, what to do?
“‘Dunce, dunce, use your brains and do it right for once’? No help. Nothing was any help. He never had done anything right, not in his whole life, until Vizzini came, and without another thought, Fezzik ran off into the night after the Sicilian.
“Vizzini was napping when he got there. He had been drinking wine and dozed off. Fezzik dropped to his knees and put his hands in prayer position. ‘Vizzini, I’m sorry,’ he began. “Vizzini napped on.
“Fezzik shook him gently.
“Vizzini did not wake.
“Not so gently this time.
“‘Oh I see, you’re dead,’ Fezzik said. He stood up. ‘He’s dead, Vizzini is,’ he said softly. And then, with not a bit of help from his brain, a great scream of panic burst from his throat into the night: ‘Inigo!’ and he whirled back down the mountain path, because if Inigo was alive, it would be all right; it wouldn’t be the
same, no, it could never be that without Vizzini to order them and insult them as only he could, but at least there would be time for poetry, and when Fezzik reached the Cliffs of Insanity he said, ‘Inigo, Inigo, here I ...
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