The lines are brilliant, the romance is legendary, the sets are terrible, and, most importantly, it contains the most comprehensive list of storytelling characteristics you’re likely to see in any story ever created. "And there's the Westley I know and love.Whene ver I find myself struggling to tell a story, I turn to The Princess Bride, a 1987 romantic comedy, fantasy, adventure film based on a 1973 book of the same name. But you should have seen your face." he trailed off into laughter. I just wanted to make sure that you were all right for my daughter." At first, it looked as though Philip was going to shout and get angry, but a moment later, he laughed too, shaking his head. Westley smiled as he ungagged Buttercup and untied her. Rosie breathed a sigh of relief, grabbing Philip's arm to keep him from attacking her father. "Calm down, son," he said to Philip, still laughing. Westley ripped the black mask off his face. The man jumped out of the way and started laughing. "No," he shouted, running at Roberts with his sword. Philip's eyes flicked to the door, but Rosie clenched his arm tightly. Why are you here? Or, why are you still here? Wouldn't it be much easier to just run away rather than face death? After all, you've just met this girl." "i have a score to settle with Buttercup here. Rosie's hand flew to her mouth and Philip stepped back. "Who are you?" he snarled at the man in black. Philip immediately put himself in front of Rosie as she screamed, drawing his sword. Instead of her parents, there stood a man in all black. There was an awkward silence before she said, "So.do you want to go inside? My parents are really nice, and they want to meet you." Philip found Rosie sitting outside, in a patch of forget me nots the same color as her eyes. "Have him come over tomorrow night," said Westley, and though he did not state his reasons, Rosie knew why: her father wanted to test Philip, to see if he was worthy of her. In fact, I meet them all the time." Rosie rolled her eyes. "See you," she said, forcing herself to turn away from him as he smiled, nudging her horse forward.Īs soon as she went home, she ran to her father. Rosie breathed, "Okay." Philip helped her back on her horse, and looked up into her blue eyes. "Well, you take care of yourself, okay Rosie?" "My name is Philip," said the stranger, grinning. "Um, yeah," she responded, brushing one of her auburn cruls behind her ear. "Are you all right?" asked the handsome stranger, his chocolateb-rown eyes filled with concern. After the horse was under control, he looked at Rosie and offered her his hand. He set her down carefully, turning to get her horse, grabbing him by the reins to prevent him from running away or hurting anyone. Right then and there, she would have fallen to the ground to be stepped on by the frightened animal, but was caught by a young man. She screamed, alarming her horse and causing him to buck. Suddnely, a pigeon flew right past her head. Rosie, now a beautiful young woman, was riding her horse home through the city. "I love you, my little flower," she whispered softly. The little baby giggled happily as Buttercup poked her nose. Buttercup would have gone too, but she had to stay with Rosie. Westley was out buying food, and Waverly was out with her friend Andrew, probably riding to put flowers on Fezzik's grave. She had curly, red hair, chubby cheeks, and forget-me-not blue eyes that lit up when she laughed. "I'm so happy."īuttercup sat in the rickety, old rocking chair in front of the fireplace, looking down lovingly upon little Rosie. She was as beautiful as Buttercup and as sweet as Westley. She smiled up at him and said softly, "I'm pregnant, Wesley." He blinked rapidly a few times, then returned the smile and pulled her into a hug. Westley turned to look at her, concerned. "Westley," she said, stopping what she was doing abruptly, "I have something important to tell you." Westley stood in the kitchen with Buttercup kneaded a loaf of bread.
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