The Ray Bradbury Theater (1985–1992): Season 4, Episode 5 - Usher II - full transcript
Twenty years after the government has banned all fantasy novels, Stendahl seeks revenge by building an enormous castle populated by androids and based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe. When the government censor, Garrett, comes to inform him it will be burned to the ground. Stendahl kills Garrett and replaces him with an android to lure the other members of the government censor committee to his castle and destroy them in a suitable manner.
[music playing]
RAY BRADBURY: People ask,
where do you get your ideas?
Right here.
All this is my
magician's toy shop.
I'm Ray Bradbury, and this is.
[music playing]
[throwing books on floor]
[fire burning]
STENDAHL: I had
been passing alone
on horseback through a
singularly dreary tract
of country, and at
length, found myself,
as the shades of
evening drew on,
within view of the
melancholy house of Usher.
[crow caws]
Behold Mr. Bigelow, the
second house of Usher.
Is it everything you
wanted, Mr. Stendahl?
Yes.
Is it desolate and terrible?
Very terrible.
MR. BIGELOW: The
walls are bleak?
Amazingly so.
MR. BIGELOW: The sedge--
we died it, you know?
Is it properly hideous?
It's beautiful.
MR. BIGELOW: I had to work
in total ignorance, you know.
Thank goodness you had the
means to pay for it all.
Mr. Bigelow, it was
worth every penny.
And now that my job's done,
Mr. Stendahl, may I ask what
you intend to do with all this?
With Usher?
Haven't you guessed?
No.
Does the name of Usher
mean nothing to you?
Nothing.
What about the
name Edgar Allan Poe?
No.
Of course.
How can I expect someone
of your generation
to know the blessed Mr. Poe?
All his books were banned.
And then burned in the
great fire 20 years ago.
Oh, one of those.
STENDAHL: Yes, one of those, Mr.
Bigelow, along with Hawthorne,
Steinbeck, Vonnegut.
And all the tales of fantasy
and horror in the future, all
burned heartlessly.
They passed a law.
Oh, it started
innocently enough,
with one group or another.
Political bias, religious
prejudice, union pressures.
There's always a minority
afraid of something,
and a great majority afraid of
the past, afraid of the future,
afraid of themselves.
MR. BIGELOW: I see.
The curse of the
censors, Bigelow,
with a screw tightened here,
and a bolt fastened there,
and a pull and a push.
Art and literature, like a--
a great twine of taffy
twisted into knots.
So there's no longer any
resiliency or flavor to it.
The film cameras stop.
The theaters are dark.
The printing presses
grind to a halt.
I'm sorry.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
But from what I hear, the
burning was a good thing.
[yelling] Get out.
Leave me alone, you idiot.
[movie music]
[laughter]
Mr. Pikes, you are
the greatest of them
all, the man of 1,000 faces.
Chaney, Karloff, Lugosi, what
were they in comparison to you?
Journeymen, Mr. Stendahl.
Mere plodders after truth.
How you must have suffered
the night they took your film.
No more than you
did the night you
watched them burn your library.
Yes.
Mr. Poe, dead and
burned, burned and dead.
Dickens with his Scrooge,
with his Christmas ghosts,
and Stevenson with his Treasure
Islands, buried and dead.
Oh, Mr. Pikes-- their burning--
sometimes I think it
has turned my mind.
Nonsense Mr. Stendahl.
Never.
You are as lucid
as ever you were.
[music playing]
[laughter]
To the house of Usher.
[glasses clink]
The house of Usher.
[laughter]
[knocking]
[crow caws, wolf howls]
Yes?
Is your name Stendahl?
Yes.
Garrett.
Investigator, Moral Climates.
So you're finally here,
you moral climate people.
I was wondering
when you'd appear.
GARRETT: Word gets around.
Soon everything here will
be nice and tidy as a pin.
Now suppose you tell me about
this place, Mr. Stendahl.
It's haunted
castle, if you like.
GARRETT: I don't
like, Mr. Stendahl.
I don't like.
It's simple enough.
In this year of our lord,
2125, I have built a sanctuary
for the imagination.
Come in won't you?
[door creaks]
In this house, copper bats
fly in make-believe attics.
[inaudible] rats scuttle
in plastic cellars.
Robot skeletons rattle
in dreary closets.
GARRETT: Robot skeletons?
Vampires, wolves, phantoms--
done with chemicals
and ingenuity.
GARRETT: I was afraid of that.
We're going to have to tear
this place down, you know?
What a pity.
I was expecting it.
But I didn't think it
would happen so soon.
GARRETT: I would have
been here earlier,
but we at Moral Climates wanted
to be sure of your intentions
before moving in on you.
I consider you something
of a fool, sir,
spending hard earned
money on a folly.
It must have cost millions.
STENDAHL: Yes, it did.
But I was left a lot of
money when I was very young.
I can afford to spend
it as I see fit.
GARRETT: We can
have the dismantlers
and burners here by sundown.
By midnight your place
will be a memory.
I know all about
you, Mr. Stendahl.
I've seen your file.
You caused us a great deal
of trouble 20 years ago,
you and your library.
My library.
You must put in a full report,
Mr. Garrett, mustn't you?
GARRETT: Yes.
Then come and have a look
around before you leave.
It'll only take a minute.
GARRETT: All right.
But no tricks.
STENDAHL: I was wondering.
This place has only
just been finished.
Couldn't you let me play with
my toy for what, 24 hours?
Out of the question,
Mr. Stendahl.
You know the law.
No books.
No films.
No houses.
Nothing that in any way
suggests ghosts, vampires
or any creature of
the imagination.
STENDAHL: But 24 hours.
What arm can it do?
[bat squealing]
[laser fire]
Amazing.
MONSTER ROBOT: Ah.
Just a robot, Mr. Garrett.
Just a robot.
Deplorable.
Exactly the sort
of thing we mean.
I'll allow you to
burn her personally.
I'm glad you've decided not
to oppose us, Mr. Stendahl.
No.
It's enough to know that I
created this place, to be
able to say that I did it.
I nurtured a medieval,
Gothic atmosphere
in this modern, sterile world.
I must say, I have a
certain reluctant admiration
for your genius, Mr. Stendhal.
Thank you, Mr. Garrett.
GARRETT: But why, Mr. Stendahl?
Why all this?
What possessed you?
Bureaucracy, Mr. Garrett.
But I haven't time to explain.
Now.
[gasping sounds]
STENDAHL: Almost
ready, Mr. Pikes?
Just let me finish wiring
this uppe
Splendid job, Mr. Pikes.
I get splendidly paid
for it, Mr. Stendahl.
Spitting image of Garrett.
Yes, but-- what
do we do with him?
STENDAHL: We're
going to burn him.
Don't want two Garretts, do we?
True.
You have your orders, Garrett?
Yes, sir.
I'm to return to Moral
Climates, and file
a complimentary report on
your complete moral and mental
rehab--
rehab-- rehab-- rehabilitation,
and invite the members
of the committee to
a party to celebrate
the fall of the
second house of Usher,
a symbolic gesture by
the rebel Stendhal,
in recognition of the
fact that fantasy is dead.
Splendid, Garret.
Off you go.
I think we're going
to have a jolly time,
don't you, Mr. Pikes.
MR. PIKES: Considering we've
been waiting and planning
for the last 20
years, Mr. Stendahl,
a very jolly time indeed.
[laughter]
GARRETT: Our records
clearly show that Stendhal
has opposed and defied the
edicts of this committee
for the past 20 years.
However, today I am
happy to report that he
has seen the error of his ways.
I therefore heartily
endorse his invitation
to members of this
committee to attend the fall
of the second house of Usher.
[applause]
[wolf howling]
So this is the house of Usher.
Byzantine.
It deserves to be destroyed.
STENDAHL: Welcome, Miss Pope,
Miss Blunt, Dr. Steffans.
Welcome to the house of Usher.
[evil giggling]
[gasping]
DR. STEFFANS: What
is this, Stendahl?
I thought we were her to witness
the destruction of this place.
In good time, Dr. Steffans.
In good time.
But first, a costume ball.
[waltz music]
I don't know if we
should participate.
It verges on blasphemy.
Nonsense, Miss Blunt.
Enjoy yourself.
Tomorrow Usher will
be a ruin, a memory.
You're here in the line of duty.
Off you go and change.
I've just cleaned
out the incinerator.
Look what I found.
Garrett.
Garrett.
They've sent an android.
I should have
known he wouldn't be
fool enough to come in person.
MR. PIKES: They'll be sending
the police along next.
Our whole plan will be ruined.
Maybe not, Mr. Pikes.
Garrett sent us an android.
We sent one back to him.
Unless he looks very closely,
he won't notice a switch.
Of course, you're right.
That android was perfect.
Next time, he'll come himself,
because he thinks it's safe.
MR. PIKES: Mr. Stendahl,
you have a genius
for seeing the obvious.
[knocking]
That'll be him now.
Ah.
Mr. Garrett.
Welcome back.
You're mistaken Mr. Stendahl.
I've never been here before.
I sent my android to do
the preliminary interview.
Review.
An excellent likeness.
But somewhat more
lenient in his reports
than I would have been,
I'm afraid, Mr. Stendahl.
Fortunately, I took the
precaution of summoning
the dismantlers tonight.
They'll be here in an hour.
Enough time for
a splendid party.
Some wine, Mr. Garrett.
GARRETT: No, thank you.
Mr. Stendahl?
What exactly is going on here?
Murder.
Murder?
Murder most foul.
[bloodcurdling scream]
Mr. Garrett, thank
goodness you're here.
Call the police.
Something horrible's happened.
Miss Blunt's been strangled
and stuffed up the fireplace.
[crying]
Stendhal, what is
the meaning of this?
It's [inaudible].
But quite clever.
Isn't it fun?
[inaudible].
Good evening, Mr. Garrett.
- But, but-- I just saw you.
- No.
An android of myself.
A clever facsimile.
It's quite remarkable, isn't it?
Don't cry, darling.
I'm quite all right.
[laughter]
You see, Mr. Garrett?
Party games.
Enjoy yourself.
[screaming]
One of Mr. Poe's
finest flights
of the imagination, Mr. Garrett.
[screaming]
Is that me down there?
[screaming]
[laughter]
[pendulum slicing]
How realistic.
Drink, Mr. Garrett.
Thank you.
[bloodcurdling scream]
Aren't there
marvelously inventive
ways to die, Mr. Garrett,
from all the forbidden books,
you know?
The premature burial,
pit and the pendulum,
murders on the Rue Morgue.
Books you burned, remember?
I wish we could have banned
all memory of them too,
Mr. Stendhal.
I'm sure you're working
on it, Mr. Garrett.
[waltz music and screaming]
[laughter]
Do you want to see what
we've got planned for you?
[scoffs] You're nasty.
Why not?
We'll be blowing the whole
place up in a moment anyway.
[makes explosion sound]
Come along, then.
GARRETT: What do you want
to show me down here?
STENDAHL: Yourself,
being killed.
GARRETT: There's duplicate.
STENDAHL: Yes.
And something else.
GARRETT: And what, precisely,
would that be, Mr. Stendahl?
This.
More wine?
Not just any wine.
Amontillado
The what?
Mr. Poe's book, The
Cask of Amontillado.
Montresor takes Fortunato,
who's just insulted
him, down to a cellar like this,
and offers him this very wine.
Really?
Of course, you recognize this?
Should I?
And this?
It's a trowel,
I'm not an idiot.
Of course not.
What are you doing?
I'm being ironic.
Never interrupt a man
when he's being ironic.
It's not polite.
There.
You've locked me in chains.
So I have.
What are you going to do?
Leave you here.
You're joking.
It's a good joke.
What about my duplicate?
When do we get to
see him killed?
STENDAHL: There
isn't a duplicate.
What about the others?
The others are dead.
The ones saw killed
were the real people.
But the duplicates
stood by and watched.
[chains rattling]
Now you're supposed to say,
for the love of God, Montresor.
And I say, yes, for
the love of God.
Won't you say it?
Go on, say it.
Say it.
Say it.
Say it.
Let me out of here.
What are you doing?
Walling you in.
You're out of your mind.
No arguing that point.
You'll be prosecuted for this.
Yes, surely.
[humming]
Help.
STENDAHL: That's good, Garrett.
Yes, a little more thrashing.
We need to have good show.
[humming] Oh, Garrett, do you
know why I've done this to you?
Because you banned
and burned books
without even reading them.
You listen to other
people's advice
as to whether they were harmful.
Now, if you'd read
Mr. Poe's books,
you would have realized
what I was going to do
when I brought you down here.
Help.
Ignorance is
fatal, Mr. Garrett.
Jingle your bells, softly.
[bells jingle]
Now, would you please say,
for the love of God, Montresor,
I might set you free.
For the love of
God, Montresor.
Ah.
[screaming]
[non-english]
I want this place
totally destroyed by mid--
by mid-- by mid--
by midnight.
Move.
[wolf howling]
STENDAHL: My brain reeled
as I saw the mighty walls
rushing asunder.
There was a long
tumultuous shouting sound,
like the voice of 1,000
waters, and the deep and dark
tower closed
sullenly and silently
over the house of Usher.
[screaming]
[music playing]
RAY BRADBURY: People ask,
where do you get your ideas?
Right here.
All this is my
magician's toy shop.
I'm Ray Bradbury, and this is.
[music playing]
[throwing books on floor]
[fire burning]
STENDAHL: I had
been passing alone
on horseback through a
singularly dreary tract
of country, and at
length, found myself,
as the shades of
evening drew on,
within view of the
melancholy house of Usher.
[crow caws]
Behold Mr. Bigelow, the
second house of Usher.
Is it everything you
wanted, Mr. Stendahl?
Yes.
Is it desolate and terrible?
Very terrible.
MR. BIGELOW: The
walls are bleak?
Amazingly so.
MR. BIGELOW: The sedge--
we died it, you know?
Is it properly hideous?
It's beautiful.
MR. BIGELOW: I had to work
in total ignorance, you know.
Thank goodness you had the
means to pay for it all.
Mr. Bigelow, it was
worth every penny.
And now that my job's done,
Mr. Stendahl, may I ask what
you intend to do with all this?
With Usher?
Haven't you guessed?
No.
Does the name of Usher
mean nothing to you?
Nothing.
What about the
name Edgar Allan Poe?
No.
Of course.
How can I expect someone
of your generation
to know the blessed Mr. Poe?
All his books were banned.
And then burned in the
great fire 20 years ago.
Oh, one of those.
STENDAHL: Yes, one of those, Mr.
Bigelow, along with Hawthorne,
Steinbeck, Vonnegut.
And all the tales of fantasy
and horror in the future, all
burned heartlessly.
They passed a law.
Oh, it started
innocently enough,
with one group or another.
Political bias, religious
prejudice, union pressures.
There's always a minority
afraid of something,
and a great majority afraid of
the past, afraid of the future,
afraid of themselves.
MR. BIGELOW: I see.
The curse of the
censors, Bigelow,
with a screw tightened here,
and a bolt fastened there,
and a pull and a push.
Art and literature, like a--
a great twine of taffy
twisted into knots.
So there's no longer any
resiliency or flavor to it.
The film cameras stop.
The theaters are dark.
The printing presses
grind to a halt.
I'm sorry.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
But from what I hear, the
burning was a good thing.
[yelling] Get out.
Leave me alone, you idiot.
[movie music]
[laughter]
Mr. Pikes, you are
the greatest of them
all, the man of 1,000 faces.
Chaney, Karloff, Lugosi, what
were they in comparison to you?
Journeymen, Mr. Stendahl.
Mere plodders after truth.
How you must have suffered
the night they took your film.
No more than you
did the night you
watched them burn your library.
Yes.
Mr. Poe, dead and
burned, burned and dead.
Dickens with his Scrooge,
with his Christmas ghosts,
and Stevenson with his Treasure
Islands, buried and dead.
Oh, Mr. Pikes-- their burning--
sometimes I think it
has turned my mind.
Nonsense Mr. Stendahl.
Never.
You are as lucid
as ever you were.
[music playing]
[laughter]
To the house of Usher.
[glasses clink]
The house of Usher.
[laughter]
[knocking]
[crow caws, wolf howls]
Yes?
Is your name Stendahl?
Yes.
Garrett.
Investigator, Moral Climates.
So you're finally here,
you moral climate people.
I was wondering
when you'd appear.
GARRETT: Word gets around.
Soon everything here will
be nice and tidy as a pin.
Now suppose you tell me about
this place, Mr. Stendahl.
It's haunted
castle, if you like.
GARRETT: I don't
like, Mr. Stendahl.
I don't like.
It's simple enough.
In this year of our lord,
2125, I have built a sanctuary
for the imagination.
Come in won't you?
[door creaks]
In this house, copper bats
fly in make-believe attics.
[inaudible] rats scuttle
in plastic cellars.
Robot skeletons rattle
in dreary closets.
GARRETT: Robot skeletons?
Vampires, wolves, phantoms--
done with chemicals
and ingenuity.
GARRETT: I was afraid of that.
We're going to have to tear
this place down, you know?
What a pity.
I was expecting it.
But I didn't think it
would happen so soon.
GARRETT: I would have
been here earlier,
but we at Moral Climates wanted
to be sure of your intentions
before moving in on you.
I consider you something
of a fool, sir,
spending hard earned
money on a folly.
It must have cost millions.
STENDAHL: Yes, it did.
But I was left a lot of
money when I was very young.
I can afford to spend
it as I see fit.
GARRETT: We can
have the dismantlers
and burners here by sundown.
By midnight your place
will be a memory.
I know all about
you, Mr. Stendahl.
I've seen your file.
You caused us a great deal
of trouble 20 years ago,
you and your library.
My library.
You must put in a full report,
Mr. Garrett, mustn't you?
GARRETT: Yes.
Then come and have a look
around before you leave.
It'll only take a minute.
GARRETT: All right.
But no tricks.
STENDAHL: I was wondering.
This place has only
just been finished.
Couldn't you let me play with
my toy for what, 24 hours?
Out of the question,
Mr. Stendahl.
You know the law.
No books.
No films.
No houses.
Nothing that in any way
suggests ghosts, vampires
or any creature of
the imagination.
STENDAHL: But 24 hours.
What arm can it do?
[bat squealing]
[laser fire]
Amazing.
MONSTER ROBOT: Ah.
Just a robot, Mr. Garrett.
Just a robot.
Deplorable.
Exactly the sort
of thing we mean.
I'll allow you to
burn her personally.
I'm glad you've decided not
to oppose us, Mr. Stendahl.
No.
It's enough to know that I
created this place, to be
able to say that I did it.
I nurtured a medieval,
Gothic atmosphere
in this modern, sterile world.
I must say, I have a
certain reluctant admiration
for your genius, Mr. Stendhal.
Thank you, Mr. Garrett.
GARRETT: But why, Mr. Stendahl?
Why all this?
What possessed you?
Bureaucracy, Mr. Garrett.
But I haven't time to explain.
Now.
[gasping sounds]
STENDAHL: Almost
ready, Mr. Pikes?
Just let me finish wiring
this uppe
Splendid job, Mr. Pikes.
I get splendidly paid
for it, Mr. Stendahl.
Spitting image of Garrett.
Yes, but-- what
do we do with him?
STENDAHL: We're
going to burn him.
Don't want two Garretts, do we?
True.
You have your orders, Garrett?
Yes, sir.
I'm to return to Moral
Climates, and file
a complimentary report on
your complete moral and mental
rehab--
rehab-- rehab-- rehabilitation,
and invite the members
of the committee to
a party to celebrate
the fall of the
second house of Usher,
a symbolic gesture by
the rebel Stendhal,
in recognition of the
fact that fantasy is dead.
Splendid, Garret.
Off you go.
I think we're going
to have a jolly time,
don't you, Mr. Pikes.
MR. PIKES: Considering we've
been waiting and planning
for the last 20
years, Mr. Stendahl,
a very jolly time indeed.
[laughter]
GARRETT: Our records
clearly show that Stendhal
has opposed and defied the
edicts of this committee
for the past 20 years.
However, today I am
happy to report that he
has seen the error of his ways.
I therefore heartily
endorse his invitation
to members of this
committee to attend the fall
of the second house of Usher.
[applause]
[wolf howling]
So this is the house of Usher.
Byzantine.
It deserves to be destroyed.
STENDAHL: Welcome, Miss Pope,
Miss Blunt, Dr. Steffans.
Welcome to the house of Usher.
[evil giggling]
[gasping]
DR. STEFFANS: What
is this, Stendahl?
I thought we were her to witness
the destruction of this place.
In good time, Dr. Steffans.
In good time.
But first, a costume ball.
[waltz music]
I don't know if we
should participate.
It verges on blasphemy.
Nonsense, Miss Blunt.
Enjoy yourself.
Tomorrow Usher will
be a ruin, a memory.
You're here in the line of duty.
Off you go and change.
I've just cleaned
out the incinerator.
Look what I found.
Garrett.
Garrett.
They've sent an android.
I should have
known he wouldn't be
fool enough to come in person.
MR. PIKES: They'll be sending
the police along next.
Our whole plan will be ruined.
Maybe not, Mr. Pikes.
Garrett sent us an android.
We sent one back to him.
Unless he looks very closely,
he won't notice a switch.
Of course, you're right.
That android was perfect.
Next time, he'll come himself,
because he thinks it's safe.
MR. PIKES: Mr. Stendahl,
you have a genius
for seeing the obvious.
[knocking]
That'll be him now.
Ah.
Mr. Garrett.
Welcome back.
You're mistaken Mr. Stendahl.
I've never been here before.
I sent my android to do
the preliminary interview.
Review.
An excellent likeness.
But somewhat more
lenient in his reports
than I would have been,
I'm afraid, Mr. Stendahl.
Fortunately, I took the
precaution of summoning
the dismantlers tonight.
They'll be here in an hour.
Enough time for
a splendid party.
Some wine, Mr. Garrett.
GARRETT: No, thank you.
Mr. Stendahl?
What exactly is going on here?
Murder.
Murder?
Murder most foul.
[bloodcurdling scream]
Mr. Garrett, thank
goodness you're here.
Call the police.
Something horrible's happened.
Miss Blunt's been strangled
and stuffed up the fireplace.
[crying]
Stendhal, what is
the meaning of this?
It's [inaudible].
But quite clever.
Isn't it fun?
[inaudible].
Good evening, Mr. Garrett.
- But, but-- I just saw you.
- No.
An android of myself.
A clever facsimile.
It's quite remarkable, isn't it?
Don't cry, darling.
I'm quite all right.
[laughter]
You see, Mr. Garrett?
Party games.
Enjoy yourself.
[screaming]
One of Mr. Poe's
finest flights
of the imagination, Mr. Garrett.
[screaming]
Is that me down there?
[screaming]
[laughter]
[pendulum slicing]
How realistic.
Drink, Mr. Garrett.
Thank you.
[bloodcurdling scream]
Aren't there
marvelously inventive
ways to die, Mr. Garrett,
from all the forbidden books,
you know?
The premature burial,
pit and the pendulum,
murders on the Rue Morgue.
Books you burned, remember?
I wish we could have banned
all memory of them too,
Mr. Stendhal.
I'm sure you're working
on it, Mr. Garrett.
[waltz music and screaming]
[laughter]
Do you want to see what
we've got planned for you?
[scoffs] You're nasty.
Why not?
We'll be blowing the whole
place up in a moment anyway.
[makes explosion sound]
Come along, then.
GARRETT: What do you want
to show me down here?
STENDAHL: Yourself,
being killed.
GARRETT: There's duplicate.
STENDAHL: Yes.
And something else.
GARRETT: And what, precisely,
would that be, Mr. Stendahl?
This.
More wine?
Not just any wine.
Amontillado
The what?
Mr. Poe's book, The
Cask of Amontillado.
Montresor takes Fortunato,
who's just insulted
him, down to a cellar like this,
and offers him this very wine.
Really?
Of course, you recognize this?
Should I?
And this?
It's a trowel,
I'm not an idiot.
Of course not.
What are you doing?
I'm being ironic.
Never interrupt a man
when he's being ironic.
It's not polite.
There.
You've locked me in chains.
So I have.
What are you going to do?
Leave you here.
You're joking.
It's a good joke.
What about my duplicate?
When do we get to
see him killed?
STENDAHL: There
isn't a duplicate.
What about the others?
The others are dead.
The ones saw killed
were the real people.
But the duplicates
stood by and watched.
[chains rattling]
Now you're supposed to say,
for the love of God, Montresor.
And I say, yes, for
the love of God.
Won't you say it?
Go on, say it.
Say it.
Say it.
Say it.
Let me out of here.
What are you doing?
Walling you in.
You're out of your mind.
No arguing that point.
You'll be prosecuted for this.
Yes, surely.
[humming]
Help.
STENDAHL: That's good, Garrett.
Yes, a little more thrashing.
We need to have good show.
[humming] Oh, Garrett, do you
know why I've done this to you?
Because you banned
and burned books
without even reading them.
You listen to other
people's advice
as to whether they were harmful.
Now, if you'd read
Mr. Poe's books,
you would have realized
what I was going to do
when I brought you down here.
Help.
Ignorance is
fatal, Mr. Garrett.
Jingle your bells, softly.
[bells jingle]
Now, would you please say,
for the love of God, Montresor,
I might set you free.
For the love of
God, Montresor.
Ah.
[screaming]
[non-english]
I want this place
totally destroyed by mid--
by mid-- by mid--
by midnight.
Move.
[wolf howling]
STENDAHL: My brain reeled
as I saw the mighty walls
rushing asunder.
There was a long
tumultuous shouting sound,
like the voice of 1,000
waters, and the deep and dark
tower closed
sullenly and silently
over the house of Usher.
[screaming]
[music playing]