Miracle Max watched and waved as his bothersome yet interesting customers walked
down the road away from his house. His eyes gleamed as he thought about what lay in the path
of
the kingdom in the near future, and he felt younger than he had in a couple decades. His mother
always told him that if he waited patiently, opportunity would come knocking. Well, it had,
except
this opportunity came banging instead of just polite knocking.
There you go again, worrying and returning to your old grumpy self, Max told himself. Look
ahead! Remember that once that blonde wimp takes that pill, the beginning will we begin! The
world will be at war, turmoil and chaos will be everywhere, and Humperdink will be at loose
ends
trying to figure out a way to deal with it without losing face! It doesn't matter now, that your
follower, the second to bear the fearsome, formidable, and honored title, died before he could
name a third. The Dread Pirate Roberts has returned!

Max returned to the warmth of his living room, thinking ambitious and triumphant
thoughts.



Fezzik, what do we do now? How long do you think it takes to work?
"Well, uh, if its restoring him to full health after he's been nearly dead all day, I'd say it'll take a
while."
"We don't have a while, Fezzik!"
"Well do you think that I can make it work faster?!" Inigo and Fezzik started arguing.
Unbeknownst to them, the blonde's eyes popped open, and he sat there where he was, watching
the two. When they both had their backs turned to him, he rose to his feet, and drew his sword.
Skillfully and without warning, he swung the blade over Fezzik's head, missing by a fraction of
an
inch, and then slanted it's corse down to Inigo's height, where it came so close it took a lock of
his jet-black hair with it. They both froze and fell silent. Inigo was the first to unfreeze.
"Wesley! You're alive!" He was about to say more, but in a flash he found himself staring cross-
eyed at the tip of Wesley's sword, this time just a fraction of an inch from his nose.
"Never, ever address me with such lack of respect. None but those higher than me may call me
Wesley. People like you, can call me by my proper title." Wesley said, his voice steady and soft,
but freezing over with ice.
"I'm higher than you," said Fezzik lightly, from a good three feet above Wesley's head. This time
he found himself staring at the blade.
"Think you're funny?" He left it at that. The sword did most of the talking.
Inigo didn't know what to call Wesley, besides what he'd called him as long as he'd known him,
which was just Wesley. Tentatively he raised a question.
"Ummmm, er, Your, er, Your Utmost Highness?" he tried. Wesley threw a sharp glance in his
direction.
"When did you learn to be so, er, threatening, if you will, with your blade?" In a split second the
sword was at his throat. Inigo babbled on, trying to cover it up. "I mean, it's such a great tactic. I
know of no better way of making people obey your command and direction. You may want to
use
it more. Could you tell me where you learned that? Maybe I-" A second lock of hair fell to the
ground as the tip of the blade was flicked deftly upward, grazing Inigo's ear. Inigo winced.
"Shut up, wooden-headed Spaniard." It went on like this for a while, Inigo and Fezzik taking
turns petrifying as Wesley brought his sword to rest a finger-width from their feces, throats,
chests, and other various places. Bit by bit Wesley began to realize what was going on, mostly by
gradually starting to pretend he was on their side. Bit by bit, also, they made a plan. Wesley was
actually surprised
at the stupidity of the two. It was a feat coming up with most of their ingenious plan without
making it look like the vast majority of the ideas were his, which happened to be the truth.
Finally
they had figured out what was to happen next in order to enter the castle, and they took their
positions. Fezzik and Inigo crouched down behind a wall, and Wesley darted to a hiding place
behind a large oak.
Stupid gits, Wesley thought to himself, as he watched them wait for his signal. Too bad for them
that they didn't realize, they were much too dull to realize . . .

Wesley slipped out from behind the tree, stealthily came up behind Inigo and Fezzik, and
drew his sword. Who to kill first? he wondered. If he killed the Spaniard, the giant was much too
strong, and he would not get a chance to kill him before he got crunched in half. But maybe not,
after all, he was so stupid, he wouldn't be able to tell what in the bloody Hell was going on. So it
didn't matter, Wesley supposed. I can deal with either of them, even if they do have a chance to
give me trouble. And without another thought, he slew them both.