“The human being is a lucky species…The ability to listen and hear music and song…”
“Lucky.”
“Take this cranium, this skull and think how lucky they are to have it… How lucky they are to have the protection of it, cradling and protecting the brain like a mother watching over a new born baby. Coddling, soothing, protecting that precious little instrument.”
“Lucky.”
“The brain, as it continues to be coddled, cared for and nurtured, grows. Until one day that little instrument is fully grown and ready to proclaim its grandeur to the world through song. A grand piano filling the orchestra hall for the first time.”
“One of the great shames of the human race is when that wonderful instrument, the brain, is wasted. Like a song, played in the wrong key or a masterpiece, painted in crayon.”
“Many years ago, there were two brothers. These brothers, they weren’t as lucky as some of the other boys, perhaps they weren’t as protected, coddled in their early days. Their instruments did not develop properly, they were teased and made fun of. Frustrated and needing to escape they ventured through the terrariums in search of what ailed them. First, they traveled to the working class, hoping that drinks and drugs would cure their short comings. It wasn’t to be. Then they ventured as high as they could, perhaps money and wealth would allow them to feel better about themselves, but they were mocked and ridiculed again memories of their childhoods rushed back into their weak minds.”
“It was then that these brothers realized that something was wrong with their instruments, their brains. So, they travelled to the depths and began tinkering with the instruments of those who dwell in the darkness. Killing them, hoping desperately to find what they were missing. Knowing all the while these were the forgotten, the unprotected. They thought them to be unlucky.”
“The brothers didn’t know that people of the depths, they had a protector. A Mother protecting those who were forgotten. Coddling them, to make certain even the music from the depths, from the darkness, could one day be heard by the world.”
“The brothers were never seen again. They disappeared, their luck… gone.”
“Unlucky.”
“Now what happens to those who aren’t lucky enough to be protected? Those who aren’t lucky enough to have their song heard around the world? No matter how safe that Mother makes the baby feel, she can’t stop the burglar hiding in the bushes. No matter how proclaimed the Grand Piano sits in the middle of the room, it will fall victim to the same fire that encompasses the rest of the home.”
“No matter how safe you feel, you won’t be lucky enough to avoid the inevitable. And when the dust settles, your broken skull shall rest upon my mantle next to the brothers who came before you.”
“Because luck is an illusion trusted by the ignorant and chased by the foolish.”
“And the true face of Vengeance, is the skull!”