Thirty-Five:
Brian and Spot traveled the coast not long before they heard a howl of despair.
"AAARRROOOooo...
"AAARRROOOooo...
"AAARRROOOooo..."
"Alas, this is no ordinary animal howl," said Spot. "It is zee cry of zee lost love." An ogre with one eye — a Cyclops — stood on the eastern shore of a large bay. On the western shore was a tower.
"A tower?" said Brian. "I can barely see the bay has an other side at all."
"You do not see light at zee window?" said Spot. "And at zee window, Mademoiselle Princess? Oh, please, do not let her be only zee dream."
"AAARRROOOooo..." the Cyclops continued.
"Alas, zee song is of zee love unfulfilled," said Spot. "It is zee haunted serenade of zee tortured virtuoso."
"Love unfulfilled?" said Brian. "Sounds more like the screeching of the tortured wildebeest."
"—well, zee understatement in eloquence displays zee vulnerability," said Spot. "Which builds zee dramatic tension..."
"—it gets tedious in a hurry," said Brian.
"Neverzeless," said Spot. "I — who no longer have zee true claim to zee crown, and am no longer worthy of zee fair princess — will nurture hope in zee tortured one-eyed virtuoso to find zee true love. To tease and control zee anguished monstrosity with zee overwheming pleasure. What can go wrong?"