Wine story or whatever

Wine story or whatever
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  • It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my in to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my to smile now was at the thought of his immolation
  • Hey, you wanna go drink some wine in my totally safe cellar
  • Sure, let's go get lit
  • I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together upon the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.
  • Come on, the REAL good stuff is down here
  • BOY, I am so hammered
  • A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. 
  • Dude, seriously, who cares. You're gonna die down here.
  • Throwing the links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.
  • Oh no! What about the wine?
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