The Fall Of The House Of Usher
RODERICK: Somehow I knew we had buried Madeline alive
NARRATOR: Wait, really?
RODERICK: I’ve been hearing her scratching at the walls of her coffin for days
NARRATOR: Should we go get her, or dig her up, or…?
RODERICK: no
read me that dragon story again
The Cask Of Amontillado
MONTRESOR: I have had it up to here with how many times Fortunato has hurt my feelings
it’s time to bury him alive instead of ever saying I don’t like it when he does that
FORTUNATO: but what have I done to deserve this
MONTRESOR: YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID
my family crest is of a nobleman who can’t take a joke
we have two methods of dealing with insults:
1) never say a word about how we feel and just silently stew
2) bury someone alive
FORTUNATO: Truly, I have no idea –
MONTRESOR: well maybe you’ll have some time to think about it after I wall you up in my wine cellar
The Black Cat
NARRATOR: I feel like the cat thinks I drink too much
NARRATOR’S WIFE: oh, well, it’s just a cat, so –
NARRATOR: look at him
judging me
I don’t have a problem
I’m going to MURDER EVERYBODY, that’s how much of a drinking problem I don’t have
The Masque Of The Red Death
NOBLEMAN: My Lord, how shall we ever escape the plague that is sweeping the land –
PROSPERO: COLOR PARTYYYYY
Tags: books, edgar allan poe, literature probably
The Tell-Tale Heart
Narrator: Hmmm, what should I do with this corpse? Well, I have a crawl-space…
The Murders in the Rue Morgue
Hmmm, what should I do with this corpse? Well, I have a chimney…
The Pit and the Pendulum
Narrator: What’s with all this weird torture equipment? Am I a prisoner of DC Comics?
my family crest is of a nobleman who can’t take a joke
This is wonderfully timed. I just watched the 1964 version of Masque of the Red Death last night to kick off my Halloween pregaming. Imagining Vincent Price saying COLOR PARTYYYYY in his most Vincent Price-y voice isn’t a particularly difficult leap.
How do we get Bill Hader to make this (almost) real for us?
The best part of that movie is the revelation that there are a whole bunch of Death Colors, and they all like to hang out together in the woods and complain about their jobs.
I tried matching them all up to different diseases (white = tuberculosis, yellow = yellow fever, etc) but had to stop when I hit purple.
Hemophilia. Purple=royalty.
People eaters.
Internet says purple death is bird flu.
Purple must be for poisoning by the strangler
my family crest is of a nobleman who can’t take a joke
we have two methods of dealing with insults:
1) never say a word about how we feel and just silently stew
2) bury someone alive
Relatively certain the bighairnoheart clan is being described here.
The Bells:
Boy, there sure are a lot of them. Probably doesn’t mean anything though.
I loved the Masque of the Red Death so much as a teenager, and I kind of still love it now for that exact reason.
Prospero: I’M TOO RICH TO GET SICK. LET ME SHOW OFF HOW RICH AND NOT SICK I AM. WHAT’S GERM THEORY.
The Red Death: lol
That, and I love nothing more than an overwrought description of an extravagant party.
I went through a recent period of rereading a lot of Poe, but not that one. I’m afraid it won’t live up to my decades old memories of it. Nine year old me was pretty much convinced it was the most metal story ever written and I don’t want to shatter that.
Right there with you, but with Hop Frog.
“Roderick, old boy, you do realize there’s a big crack in the side of your house? And that it ends in a pool of standing water? You’ve got a massive mold problem. No wonder everyone looks so sickly around here.”
“Can’t…afford… renovations.[wheeze] We’re holding out for…Extreme Makeover…Home Edition…”
“Didn’t that stop airing back in 2010?”
“They still…do…specials…”
Six Months Later
“Now, while Madeline is busy touring the new vault, I’ve got something extra cool to show you, Roderick. And if you don’t love it, then my name’s not Ty Pennington, host of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition: Home for Thanksgiving.”
“Oh…my…god!”
“That’s right! It’s your very own man cave, stocked up and ready to go with rare incunabula, decadent poetry, and opium.”
“It’s…it’s too much. It overawes the senses. I am like…unto…a demon…falling toward Heaven…in some grotesque inversion of Satan’s Descent. Hear I the music of jetting fountains?”
“That would be the SodaStream!”
AAAH YES
Why isn’t this real and available OnDemand?!?
The Raven
A bird got into my house while I was sad.
this just killed me dead.
The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar
M. Valdemar: I’m dying!
Narrator: Hows about I hypnotize you and keep you concious in your rotting corpse for 7 months?
M. Valdemar: Sure – what’s the worst that could happen?
Narrator: Oops.
The Tell-Tale Heart
NARRATOR: Stupid conscience. Or someone’s lost their watch, maybe, but almost certainly it’s my conscience
You know what are good ideas, you guys? Owning other people and sticking your head through giant clock faces!
(Why was “A Predicament” the story that stuck in my head…er, as it were…when I was young?)
William Wilson
Narrator: Guys does anyone else think it’s weird that there’s this other person here with my same name and face?
Others: Nope. Totally normal.
Narrator: Also normal that he randomly shows up when I’m doing bad stuff?
Others: we definitely did not notice that.
Narrator: so like no one would notice if I just went stabby on him then?
Oh. Darn.
Annabel Lee
Narrator: Waterfront property. Check. Personal sex idiot. Check. Life is grand.
Angels: Oooh gimme!
Narrator: At least I still have the waterfront property?
Poe! Oh I love Poe. I am just sentimental about Poe. My essay on “The Cask of Amontillado” got me into the honors program of my university.
I’ve never been really into poetry, but I love to read his poems aloud– they’re just such excellent examples of poetic rhythm and cadence. Especially “The Bells” and “Annabel Lee.” And I remember in one high school class, a teacher played a reading of one of Poe’s stories. The narrator had this grandiose dark voice, which got increasingly grimmer and horrified as he went, until the bell rang, and a boy shouted, “I’m going to go kill myself now!” as we left the room. (Not that I condone joking about suicide…it’s just one of the things I thought was funny, as an adolescent. And I’m sure Poe would have approved the general spirit of the reaction.)
“Never Bet The Devil Your Head” is one of my favorites, for sheer reason of shadenfreude. Always pay attention to the bridge architecture when betting a random old man that you can jump over a thing!
I had a book of Poe’s short stories growing up that I started reading around 9 or 10, and it was one of my favorite things for years. Tell Tale Heart creeped me out for so long though.
The Black Cat one I'm dyinggggg
The purloined letter:
There’s a letter, lying on the table.
Deep, so deep!
Berenice: You know what’s creepier than incest? Teeth.
Hop-Frog
King: Hey dwarf I abuse and mock and whose girlfriend I just beat up. What should me and my buddies dress up as for my party?
Hop-Frog: Um…flammable apes? That are chained together?
King: CAPITAL IDEA!
King: *is on fire*