Jag kan nästan slå vad om att ni inte kommer orka läsa hela ;) (Jag har inte gjort den här otroliga berättelsen) _______________________________________________________________ Vincent Malloy is a seven years old boy. He's allways pollite and does what he's told. For a boy his age he's considered it a nice. But he wants to be just like Vincent Price. He doesn't mind living with his sister, dog and cats. Though he'd rather share a home with spiders and bats. There he could reflect on the horrors he's invented. And wander dark hallways, alone and tormented. Vincent is nice when his ant comes to see him. But imagens dipping her in wax for his waxmuseum. He likes to experiment on his dog Appercromby. In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie. So he and his horrible Zombie dog, could go searching for victims in the London fog. His thoughts though aren't only of goulish prime. He likes to paint and read to pass some of the time. While other kids read books like; Go Jane, go! Vincents favorite arthour is Edgar Allan Poe. One night while reading a grousome tale he read a passage that made him turn pale. Such horrible news he could not survive for his beautifull wife had been burried alive. He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead. Unawear her grave was his mothers flowerbed. His mother sent Vincent of to his room. He knew he'd been banished to the tower of doom, where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life. Alone with the portrait of his beautifull wife. All alone, insane and incased in his doom. Vincents mother bursts suddenly into the room. She said: If you want to you can go out and play. It is sunny outside and a beautifull day. Vincent tried to talk but he just couldn't speak. The yeras of issolation had made him quite weak. So he took out some paper and scrolled with the pen; I am possesed by this house and can never leave it again. His mother said: You are not possesed and you're not allmost dead. Theese games that you play are all in your head. you're not Vincent Price, you are Vincent Malloy, you are not tormented or insane, you are just a young boy, you are seven years old and you're my son. I want you to get outside and have some real fun! Her anger now spenched and she walked down through the hall. And while Vincent backs slowly against the wall the room started to sway too shiwer and wreek. His hardened insanity had reached it's peak. He saw Applercromby, his zombie slave. And heared his wife call from beyond the grave. She spoke from her coffin and made goulish demands. Whilr through cracking walls reached skeleton hands. Every horror in his life that had cripped through his dreams. Sweapt his mad laughter into terrifyed screams. To escape the madness he reached for the door. But fell limp and lifeless down on the floor. His voice was soft and very slow as he qouted the raven from Edag Allan Poe: And my soul from out that shadow. Thet lies floating on the floor. Shall be lifted. Never more!

Nepp, det är inte han. Det är Tim Burton.