Three Blind Mice

In Promo, Tombstone by Tombstone

[edgtf_dropcaps type=”normal” color=”” background_color=””]H[/edgtf_dropcaps]ave you ever heard the tale of three blind mice?

The song doesn’t do the tale justice. You see, the blind mice were  mischievous characters, seeking adventure, pain and entertainment.

The first of the mice adored adventure. He would run blindly into any circumstance, hoping to find it. There was no place he would not traverse in search of the ultimate thrill.

Adventure meant everything to him. It was the very reason for his existence. There wasn’t a level of Arcadia that he had not been to, accessed or explored.

The second of the mice adored pain. He adored both dishing it out and receiving it. For him it was a badge of honor to suffer indignantly, and he believed that in doing so, he gained some kind of higher power or knowledge.

With every breath, he searched for agony. He gave it where possible and received it if necessary. Pain became the very oxygen that he needed to survive and, in his opinion, thrive.

Finally, the third of the mice adored entertainment. Whilst he may have been blind, he searched with his ears for the sound of music. Every little note pricked his tiny little ears. He always thought of music as life and life as music.

He would wander wherever the sound of music was and listen lovingly to its tender sounds.

These three blind mice found woefully their ends.

The first would find death upon his adventure, yet find that evidently, he would defeat it. He was bound to this world eternally, to suffer in blindness, unable to see.

The second would seek pain too far, to an extent in which it killed him. There is only so much pain the human body can withstand and he would seek it too far, too much and too often. In the end, his body was unable to cope with the damage and ceased to be.

And finally, the third would lose music. It would die, and cause him to perish along with it. With no music, he suffered, and life became pointless. Music blinded him and he did not know it.

Drewitt, Grimskull and El Mariachi Muerte – three blind mice. 

Each of you running blindly into Uprising, blindly into our match and blindly into the world around you. Drewitt, you can’t see death for the life that has been given you. Grimskull, you are too obsessed with pain to endure love and there’s only so much one can take. El Mariachi, you’ve lost the only thing you love. You lost music. You allowed it to be your eyes, and without it, you are blind.

At Uprising, three blind mice meet the butcher’s knife.

They meet their end, at my hands.

You shouldn’t fear the end though, gentlemen.

Because the end is where we meet.

And I will send you on your way