The Raven
    A parody based on Edgar Allan Poe's poem by the same name
    Rewritten by: Andrew Perrin (Mageuzi)

<Fade in on a New England house that is old and made out of wood. It looks very cold with hardly any furniture. The fire that one was in the fireplace has been spent to glowing red ashes, only. Timon walks in, slowly, head down, looking tired..and a little scared. A narrator's voice, nothing like Timon's, but more like an English gentleman's voice reads the poem lines.>

"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,"

<Timon walks over and sits down at a desk, and starts to "read" an open book>

"Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,"

<Timon looks up, half asleep, over to the door from which he just came and lets out a big, angry sigh>

"As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--
Only this, and nothing more.""

<Timon gets up, and *tries* to walk over to the door, stumbling and eventually leaning against the mantlepiece above the fireplace, looking at a couple pictures which are there. They are old and faded..pictures of Timon..happy. With a loved one.>

"Ah, distincly I rememeber it was in the bleak December,
And each seperate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow--vainly I had treid to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore--
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
Nameless here for evermore."

<Timon, with another depressive sigh, looks at the glowing embers in the fireplace, and then over to a window, which is open, and the wind is blowing in from>

"And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;"

Timon: God it's cold!

<Timon walks over and closes the window. The curtains settle again.>

"So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door--
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door--
This it is and nothing more.""

<Timon, tired once again, starts to walk over to the door, again.>

"Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating them no longer,"

<Timon starts to mouth the words to which the narrator says>

""Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door--
That I scarece was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door--"

<Timon tries to reach the doorknob, but can't quite make it..>

"--here I opened wide the door--"

Timon: Yeah, I'm tryin', I'm tryin'! <looks around, and finds a chair, scoots it over by pushing it hard, and climbs up on top and reaches the doorknob> There! Happy?

"Darkness there, and nothing more."

Timon: <looking around> What?! I did all that work..for darkness?! Oy!

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,"

Timon: <only the sound of crickets being heard> Err...

"Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;"

Timon: I wonder how crickets taste with garlic?

"But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This *I* whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!""

<Timon mouths the word "Lenore" with the narrator.>

"Merely this, and nothing more."

Timon: <looks around, dissapointed> And here's my agent saying I'll have the time of my life doing this. Pbbb!

"Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,"

<Timon walks in, pushes the chair with a frown, and slams the door.>

"Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before."

Timon: <looks around> What the..?!

<Timon mouths words..>
""Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore--
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore--
'Tis the wind and nothing more!""

Timon: If it *is* I'm quitting this job!

"Open here I flung the shutter,"

<Timon pushes over the chair that he just pushed away from the door, and climbs on and opens the window>

"..when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed
he;"

Timon: <backing away> Oh boy..these..these guys *eat* guys like me..er..

"But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door--"

<The raven swoops down until one inch above Timon and then flies up again.>

Timon: AHHHHHHHHHH!

"Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door--
Perched, and sat, and nothing more."

Timon: <turning around to see the raven> Oy! <pointing pawfinger to the raven> And you can just *stay* there!

"Then his ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,"

<Timon mouths words..>
""Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly
shore--
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!""

Timon: <looking to the "camera"> Whatever *that* means.

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore.""

Timon: <looking back to the raven> Yeah, okie.

"Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,"

<Timon continues to stare at the raven>

"Thought its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door--
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore.""

"But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered--not a feather then he fluttered--
Till I scarcely more than muttered,"

<Timon mouths words with a curious face>
"Other friends have flown
before--
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.""

Timon: <to himself, quietly> And that juicy beetle that other day..

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore.""

Timon: Why..if I were..2 feet taller! I'd..I'd..

"Wondering at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,"

<Timon grrs, but then calms down again, and mouths to..>
""Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmercieful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster--so, when Hope he would adjure,
Stem Despair returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared
adjure--
That sad answer, "Nevermore!""

"But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and
door;"

<Timon walks over, eyes constantly on the bird, to the chair, and pushes it, yet again, over to the place in front of the bird, and then realizes what he's doing.>

Timon: What?! Are you crazy?! This bird could *eat* me! I..

"Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--"

<Timon, look of annoyment on his face, climbs onto the chair and sits down, looking, a little scared, towards the raven.>

"What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore.""

"This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;"

<Timon follows the raven's gaze to his chest, and then back up the raven, and looks confused>

Timon: Wha--? Did I get bug juice down my front again?!

"This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
*She* shall press, ah, nevermore!"

"Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen
censer
Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls thinkled on the tufted floor."

Timon: <sniffing the air> Aww, Pumbaa, not again..not here!

<mouthing words, a little reluctantly>
""Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath
sent thee
Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Let me quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!""

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore.""

Timon: What?! Whaddya mean, "Nevermore"?! They're pretty cool lines!

<continues to mouth--more feeling this time>
""Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet of still, if bird or devil!--
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here
ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this hom by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore--
Is there--*is* there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!""

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore.""

Timon: Huh?! How can you say that?! This Eggtimer guy who wrote this did a good job! How can you say something so simple as that?!

<mouths--great feeling in his mouthing>
""Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.""

<A little tear rolls down Timon's cheek>

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore.""

Timon: THAT'S *IT*! Meerkat or no meerkat, I'm gonna GET yoooou!

<with great hate towards the bird, Timon mouths>
""Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked,
upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
door!""

"Quoth the raven, "Nevermore.""

Timon: Ahh, a tough bird, eh? I can wait!

<Time lapse sequence: fade from scene to scene with Timon sitting in his chair. Alone. Getting tired...and tireder..bird still on the bust.>

"And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted--nevermore!"

<Timon sits in his chair, eyes closed, seeming to be asleep. But a single tear escapes his eye and rolls down his cheek. Fade out.>