Inigo winced as he saw the enormous ROUS being brought in by the new albino, who was masked. He could only imagine the things they would do to him next. He had been shackled to the wall for what he assumed was a week, or at least a few days. There was no sure way of telling due to the fact that the pit of despair was exactly that: a pit in the ground that was dark and without windows.

During the time he had spent there, they had already put him through more torture than he could ever imagine humanly possible. Inigo, however, remained strong. When revenge was on his mind, nothing could stop him from tasting blood. At least they haven't used that machine, Inigo thought to himself. He would have kicked himself for not destroying it when he and Fezzik had the chance, but since his feet were shackled, it was only a dubious wish.

"May I ask what you're planning to do with that rat?" Inigo asked in his thick Spanish accent.

"I'm not planning to do anything with it; it was the prince's charge. Before you ask, I don't know what his intentions are either, but I'm sure you're inclinations are just as good as mine." The albino replied.

Inigo nodded. "Is there anyway you could perhaps let me stretch my limbs a bit?"

"Are you kidding," The albino laughed. "You're the prisoner, and I'd like to keep my job, thank you. In case you weren't aware, job opportunities aren't as abundant as they once were."

"'S ok. I didn't figure you would anyway." Inigo replied.

"Well, you can't blame me. I hear you're pretty quick, being almost the best swordsman in Florin." The albino reasoned.

"Almost," Inigo's interest peaked.

"Well, everyone knows that you lost by a hair to that Westley fellow. But, I hear he's quite a dashing fellow." The albino replied.

"I'll say. He didn't even kill me after I lost," said Inigo.

"Really," the albino replied with sarcastic inconceivability. "That reminds me, if you wish for the torture to stop before it gets worse, I can put you out of your misery now."

"Thank you, but I feel fine." Inigo insisted.

The albino clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. That's not going to get you too much farther in life, my friend." The albino chuckled at the semi-pun he had created.

"Amusing," replied Inigo in bad humor. "For an albino, you sure do talk a lot."

"That's what I think. This job really isn't for me." The albino agreed.

"Then why don't you quit?" Inigo suggested.

"Good idea," The Albino unmasked.

"Westley?!?!" exclaimed Inigo.

"In the flesh" Westley replied, bowing

"How...why...what?" Inigo stammered.

"No time for explanations," said Westley, while he released Inigo from bondage. "We must make a quick escape and regroup."

"Have you my steel?" Inigo asked.

"Oh," Westley pulled the six-fingered sword from out of his shirt. "Shall we be off, then?"

"Follow the way," Inigo insisted.

The two men flew as fast as their feet could carry them. They ran all the way to where Westley's horse had been stashed away. They then decided to hide out in the thieves' forest in order to think up a plan.

Inigo never thought he would be so happy to see another man in his life, except for the deceased.