The Narrator:
[first lines - surveying windmill park]
I know. I know what you're thinking, not the first to use it. But with a visual like this, what does it matter. So much can be drawn, endless numbers in constant motion, yet rooted in the ground. Would be easy to point out how so many turn in the same way, but never quite together. And then, there is my favorite.
[one not turning]
The Narrator:
There are those who could use poetic imagery to comment on tilting at these modern windmills. Me, I just like the way they look.
[struck in the head from behind]
The Narrator:
[driven into the city]
In case you were wondering, these fellows ain't taking me on a picnic. No, they're getting me ready for The Rajah. The man who spent the better part of a decade trying to find me. Well, looks like he found me. So they're going to hurt me, to reintroduce me to lady pain, almost to the point of dying - almost, but not quite.
The Narrator:
[being kicking from all sides]
Say, maybe they'll get tired of beating me after a while.
[now being punched]
The Narrator:
Well, it's not a perfect plan, but it will have to do... for now.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:41
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