Look, I know I said it’d be a while before I livetweeted anything again, but I just really felt like livetweeting something last night. So here it is, my complete livetweet of Edgar Allan Poe’s The Cask of Amontillado.
Let the WTF-ery begin.
- yall…………………. I don’t want to do schoolwork so I’m going to livetweet a thing
- specifically The Cask of Amontillado because apparently it’s been a meme on tumblr lately and not getting the jokes has been rly frustrating
- (also, for the first time, I’m literally only doing this on my phone so I’m just gonna be switching windows constantly lmaoooo)
- K LET’S DO THIS
- “The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge.” wasting NO time, I see
- “You, who so well know the nature of my soul”–
- “I must not only punish but punish with impunity” – okay, Frank Castle, chill the eff out
- this whole bit about what exactly counts as revenge has me like
- (and all of that was just the first paragraph, good lord)
- apparently the nameless narrator dude has literally done nothing to this Fortunato dude and Fortunato is still sh*tting on his entire life
- “he did not perceive that my to smile now was at the thought of his immolation” – holy cow what did this guy DO to you
- omg yall Fortunato’s weakness is wine and now my mental image of him is basically John Thorpe
- our narrator is a wino as well. the frat bro jokes on tumblr are starting to make sense now
- oh boyyyyyyyy y’all this is happening during the carnival season. we’re in for some topsy-turvy ish
- right so dude’s at this carnival and he meets his friend who’s wearing motley, yada yada
- OH WAIT. FORTUNATO IS THE ONE WEARING MOTLEY. FORTUNATO IS A F***ING COURT JESTER OR SOME ISH
- so wait wait wait is this bloke seriously on the warpath because a motley fool insulted him. is this what’s happening here.
- note after the fact: probably not but the mental images this conjures up are too fun to abandon
- I literally feel like I’m reading the sequel to Twelfth Night here
- Thirteenth Night: Malvolio Strikes Back
- so Mal (just gonna call him that till we get a name for him) about shakes Fort’s hand right off and is like “I got some gr8 wine my dude”
- like……….. is he gonna put cyanide in there or what
- anyway at the news that Mal got some Amontillado, Fort basically completely short-circuits and all he can freaking say is “Amontillado!”
- in case yall thought I was kidding:
- he’s like a parrot. or Hodor
- pardon me while I play a quick game of Who the F is Speaking
- (DIALOGUE TAGS ARE IMPORTANT, KIDDOS)
- okay I think Mal just invited himself the f over to Fort’s place like wow rude
- wait I think Fort just said Mal had a cold? has he been talking like Goofy this whole time?
- well that certainly complicates a lot of my mental pictures
- oh WAIT NO I got it all wrong, Fort was the one who invited himself over to Mal’s place
man I literally got everything completely backwards
- again, dialogue tags are muy importante
- that makes this whole bit funnier:
F: let’s get drunk at your place
M: but, uh, you’re busy!
F: no I’m not
M: uhh, you’re sick tho?
- Mal, my dude, unless this is some lady-doth-protest stuff here, you don’t actually seem that eager to get your revenge on Fort
- bro. bruh. honeybruh. Mal is literally putting on a mask and cloak to LEAVE this carnival
- and he doesn’t even call it a cloak, either, it’s a “roquelaire”
- he’s so extra I can’t
- so as per the typical carnival scene, none of Mal’s attendants are at home, but rather they’re getting lit
- this guy has ATTENDANTS ffs why is he bothering to revenge himself on a LITERAL MOTLEY FOOL
- oh and he doesn’t call torches “torches” but “flambeaux” like why is that necessary
- “flambeaux and pitchforks” just doesn’t roll off the tongue
- so anyway they go down this long spirally-af staircase and get to–wait, CATACOMBS?
- Mal, my dude, my guy, I was expecting an actual wine cellar, not a graveyard
- and these aren’t just any catacombs, they’re his family’s. literally “the catacombs of the Montresors” like what the actual f
- do people generally get turnt in their family graveyards in this era or is Mal just a giant weirdo
- anyway. moving tf on
- “The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode.” Mal ffs WHY are you messing with a JOKER
- like seriously what did this guy ever do to you that he wasn’t expressly permitted to do in his literal job description
- is Mal literally just going to asbestos Fort before they even get to the wine
- I have been laughing for approximately 40000 years because (1) this is Poe’s version of coughing, and (2) honestly same tho
- “My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.” – WAIT BRO AND YOU’RE JUST STANDING THERE THE WHOLE TIME?
- holy cow, my dude, you are vicious
- “‘It is nothing,’ he said, at last” – Fort, you complete wafflebrain, you almost hacked up an entire lung back there
- he’s already drunk as all get-out, though, so he has an excuse for being so wafflebrained
- “‘Come,’ I said, with decision, ‘we will go back… you are happy, as once I was. You are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter.'” UM
- drunk or not that is some ominous effing phrasing right there
- “A draught of this Medoc will defend us from the damps.” yeah that totally isn’t wine you’re about to give him. that is totally not wine.
- AND GUESS WHAT POPS UP WHEN I SCROLL LIKE TWO INCHES DOWN MY TIMELINE
<blockquote class=”twitter-tweet” data-lang=”en”><p lang=”en” dir=”ltr”>The perfect mini bar for wine lovers <a href=”https://t.co/MThObfcvqG”>https://t.co/MThObfcvqG</a> <a href=”https://t.co/gyYKKlY6I4″>pic.twitter.com/gyYKKlY6I4</a></p>— BuzzFeed (@BuzzFeed) <a href=”https://twitter.com/BuzzFeed/status/802368283563343872″>November 26, 2016</a></blockquote>
- “‘Drink,’ I said, presenting him the wine.”
- “He raised it to his lips with a leer.”
- “‘I drink,’ he said, ‘to the buried that repose around us.’
‘And I to your long life.'”
DUN DUN DUNNNNN
- Mal rn
- okay so I guess that particular wine wasn’t poisoned or anything? lord
- yay time for a genealogy lesson with Mr. Malvolio Montresor
- k I’m like 99% sure Mal is making up his family’s coat of arms just to be dramatic
- “A huge human foot d’or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel” – like come on Mal
- oh and Mal just got to their motto,
@RTRFND – time to Google translate this ish
- update, an approximate translation would be AIN’T NOBODY MESSIN WITH MY MOTHERF*CKIN CLIQUE
- “The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc.”
I know this isn’t gay
- “I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow” – don’t mind me I’m just writing fanfic in my head
- so there’s even more of this “nitre” stuff deeper in the catacombs. I looked it up, and apparently it’s saltpeter.
- which, like, can explode. right?
- Wikipedia said it’s used in rocket propellant and fireworks and gunpowder so I mean
- wouldn’t it be hysterical if Mal’s plan backfired quite literally and he Guy Fawksed them both
- Mal is at least trying to act concerned for Fort’s cough and Fort is like “I literally don’t care, just give me more wine”
- “I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave” are you kidding me Mal. De Grave. could you BE any more extra jfc
- ahahahah Fort chugs the flagon and tosses it aside while flipping it the bird and Mal is just like
- I would just like to formally state that I have no idea wtf is going on
- like first of all where did this freemason conspiracy stuff come from, and then second, a trowel????????
- is this gonna be some Chekov’s Trowel ish
- man if anybody wants to explain that particular digression to me, after I’ve finished here, feel f***ing free, bc I got nothing
- ANYWAY so there’s apparently much more twisty turny stuff going on in the wine cellar from hell
- so yeah remember the bone church from The Phantom of the Opera? well this is basically a bone crypt. not kidding ya
- “the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth” – nO.
- I just found this gif and I regret my entire existence
- I s2g if they don’t find this godforsaken wine soon
- there are crypts within crypts in this literal hellhole
- WAIT WHOA MAL JUST CHAINED FORT TO THE WALL IN THIS CRYPT
- Mal, ever vicious: hey, that’s a lot of nitre there, sure you don’t want to get outta here? TOO BAD MOFO I’VE GOT YOU LOCKED UP
- “‘The Amontillado!’ ejaculated my friend”–BROSKI YOU ARE CHAINED TO A WALL WINE IS THE LEAST OF YOUR PROBLEMS RN
- Chekov’s Trowel, yall, for real
- Mal is literally going to wall this guy up in the wine cellar from hell what a way to go
- this is about the worst time for Fort to sober up, so of course that’s exactly what happens
- at one point Fort just starts screaming and Mal’s all
- omg Mal’s about to finish walling the guy in and Fort decides to get all Joker on him
- Fort: lollllll you’re even putting the last stone in this is hilarious
Fort: you can stop now lmao
- “No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it fall within”–oh so now you’re gonna flame the poor guy too?
- he literally just rebuilds the crypt wall and leaves Fort there I’m
is that it
is that the entire story
- not even any sort of backstory for why he hates the guy so much? nothing?
- sure. I guess.
- so I guess that’s the end of it. poor Fortunato’s bones are buried at the arse-end of some giant crypt and nobody ever finds him. cool
Well, that was fun. I’ll be back soon with another Canada post. Till then: