Twice Told Tales Page #3

Oh, nonsense.

You're going back

to your youth

the same way

you left it:

full of whiskey.

The liquid

is taking effect.

I'm young again.

I'm young!

You've done it.

Let me feel your grip.

Here.

It's like iron.

What a night

of miracles this has been.

What if it wears off?

What if the liquid doesn't

give us youth permanently?

We can drink some more.

It's been dripping in the crypt

for almost 40 years.

It could go on

dripping forever.

What a wonderful way

to be young.

All we have to do

is to be thirsty.

The two thirstiest old

coots in the world.

The two thirstiest

young coots!

I can't wait

to see the expression

on the townspeople's faces

when they see us.

Sylvia.

If only Sylvia

could see us.

Sylvia?

Yes, of course.

Alex,

perhaps she

will see us.

What?

What are you saying?

Why shouldn't Sylvia

have a chance

to share

in our miracle?

But you can't give her

the water.

A dead person

can't drink.

Of course not,

but there are ways.

Carl, Carl,

I beg of you,

don't try to bring

back the dead!

Alex, you said it

yourself:

"A chance to live

our lives over."

If I could have that

marriage to Sylvia--

Marriage?

Carl, you couldn't.

Alex,

I devoted

one lifetime

to Sylvia.

I'm perfectly willing

to devote another.

How are you

going to do it?

It seems that even the fates

are conspiring to help us.

A few years ago,

a certain Dr. Pravaz,

a Frenchman,

invented a

singular instrument.

What does it do?

My patients seem to object

being jabbed by it, but

I'd say

it's quite effective.

Carl, wait.

I'm not sure that

I want to be a part of this.

Alex, we three were

inseparable.

Should Sylvia

come back,

I'm certain that she would

want you to be there.

You must stay.

But perhaps

you will be going too far.

I mean, people are meant

to grow old and die.

Sylvia never had

a chance to grow old.

Perhaps this

will give it to her.

I thought I saw

her finger move.

No, I saw nothing.

Look.

She's trying to breathe.

Sylvia,

come back to me.

Breathe.

She's breathing

normally.

Sylvia.

Sylvia, it's Carl.

Carl Heidegger.

I'm here.

I'm waiting for you.

Carl?

She's alive again.

She remembers my name.

Her eyes, look,

her eyes are opening.

She can see again,

the Lord in His

infinite mercy.

Carl?

Is everything ready

for the wedding?

The wedding?

Always so absent-minded.

Have you forgotten?

Our wedding

is tomorrow.

Your wedding

38 years ago.

It's the last thing

she remembers.

What is it you say?

38 years?

Sylvia, it's difficult

to explain.

What do you mean,

wedding of 38 years ago?

Sylvia...

And this rag?

Why am I dressed

this way?

Sylvia, be calm.

Just listen,

please.

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