Owl House Watching the black caldron

The owl house watches the black cauldron

Notes:

Letting everyone with a rude comment know I'm not holding a shotgun pointed at your head, bury you alive by the train tracks or threatening to sacrifice your body to be eaten by my chickens

To my good viewers please comment on the next movie
(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:
[Prologue]

Narrator: Legend has it, in the mystic land of Prydain. There was once a king so cruel, and so evil, that even the gods feared him. Since no prison could hold him, he was thrown alive into a crucible of molting iron. There his demonic spirit was captured, in the form of a great black cauldron. For uncounted centuries The Black Cauldron lay hidden, while evil men searched for it. Knowing whoever possessed it, would have the power to resurrect an army of deathless warriors. And with them, rule the world.

Luz: here we are folks with a dark Disney that almost ruined Disney in 1985 and the lives of hundreds of screaming kids who ran out of the movie theaters.

Amity: really?

Luz: yeah, but I think it's only because nobody was ready for it during the 80s.

[At Caer Dallben.......]

Dallben: There's something wrong! I can feel it in my bones. Hmm, the Fair Folk know it too. You don't see any of them around! The Horned King! That black hearted devil! What's he waiting for?

The tomcat jumps in front of him and meows.

YES, yes, Cat, I KNOW you want your breakfast! But just now THINKING is more important! (calls for Taran) Oh,Taran! The pot is boiling over, Taran!

(he sees Taran staring out the window in a daydream.)

Taran: Oh, Dallben, I was just thinking. What if the war's over, and I never had a chance to fight!

Dallben: (who is now looking at old maps) Hmm, and a good thing too. War isn't a game, people get hurt!

Willow: we been to war...it's not fun.

Taran: But I'm not afraid!....Ouch! (He reaches his hand out in protest, only to touch the boiling pot, burning his finger.)

Dallben: Ah, ha! There you are! If the Horned King ever returned you'll have a great deal more to worry about than a burned finger. (Taran scoops out a spoonful of whatever Dallben was cooking, smelled it, and quickly turned his face away in disgust. He sets it in a small bowl. The cat, hoping it was for him, attempts to eat it and turns away in disgust, too.) No, no, no, no, Cat. That is not for you; it's for Hen Wen.

Taran complaining: Hen Wen, Hen Wen, it's ALWAYS Hen Wen!

Dallben: And one day, my boy, you may learn why. Now, no more dreaming, you have chores to do.

Taran: Yes, sir. he sets off to feed Hen Wen.

Dallben: He's so anxious, and so blind to the dangers ahead. (he opens the pot) Look, look Cat you're in luck! Just enough left for you! (the cat backs away) Hmmm?

[Outside.....]

Taran: Dallben wouldn't understand. I'm not a little boy anymore. (he kicks a stick, and walks over to the flock of geese and tramples across the bridge. He kicks open the gate to Hen Wen's pen.) I should be doing heroic deeds for Prydain! Not waiting hand and foot on a spoiled....Hey!

(Taran had set down the bowl and shoved it in the barrel only for it to come back at him.) (Taran laughing) Oh, alright Hen, I didn't mean it. (a small cute pig comes out of the barrel and looks at the food.) You'd better eat it Dallben made it especially for you.