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  • “He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.” ~
    Rafael Sabatini


    I am the Prince of Players. For months I have had you convinced that I am Burt Kempner, a mild, 60ish screenwriter. It is a mask I don when the spirit moves me, but I am not he, and the spirit has left.

    I am Scaramouche, quick of sword and wit, a Technicolor swashbuckler brought to life by Rafael Sabatini. I ride on the wings of night to strike fear into the hearts of villains everywhere. It’s a glorious job. One thrust and Pomposity is worm food. My rapier makes short work of Ignorance, Apathy and Authoritarianism. I save my most dazzling smile for when I run Greed through in the final reel. My work will never end, which is convenient, for I will never die. Look for me when humans are treated with anything less than dignity, when women are brutally oppressed, when the alchemist rich turn the poor into cannon fodder, when the downtrodden have lost hope. I am Scaramouche, quick of sword and wit, and my blade is thirsty!

    Damn, morning is breaking. Off with my cape, my doublet, my courage. It is time to pretend to be that dull Kempner fellow for a while. Does he suspect that it is I who make his heart quicken at the sight of injustice? That I clench his fist and straighten his spine when he confronts a bully? That his love of love comes not from birds or bees but the soul of an armed romantic? Wake up, you blockhead!

    He is stirring, so I must leave. Believe everything and nothing he says.
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