Man lives in the sunlit world of what he believes to be reality. But, there is, unseen by most, an underworld, a place that is just as real, but not as brightly lit… a darkside. The darkside is always there, waiting for us to enter, waiting to enter us. So until next time, try to enjoy the daylight.
Enter at your peril, past the vaulted door. Impossible things will happen that the world’s never seen before. In Dexter’s laboratory lives the smartest boy you’ve ever seen, but Dee Dee blows his experiments to Smithereens! There’s gloom and doom when things go boom in Dexter’s lab!
I am Duncan Macleod, born 400 years ago in the Highlands of Scotland. I am Immortal, and I am not alone. For centuries, we have waited for the time of the Gathering when the stroke of a sword and the fall of a head will release the power of the Quickening. In the end, there can be only one.
Your tread must be light and sure, as though your path were upon rice paper. It is said, a Shaolin priest can walk through walls. Looked for, he can not be seen. Listened for, he can not be heard. Touched, can not be felt. This rice paper is the test. Fragile as the wings of the dragonfly, clinging as the cocoon of the silk worm. When you can walk its length and leave no trace. You will have learned.
Tell me why, I love you like I do. Tell me who, could stop my heart as much as you. Let’s take each other’s hand, as we jump into the final frontier. Mad about you baby, yeah, I’m mad about you. Whoo hoo hoo.
One thousand years ago, superstition and the sword ruled. It was a time of darkness. It was a world of fear. It was the age of gargoyles. Stone by day, warriors by night, we were betrayed by the humans we had sworn to protect, frozen in stone by a magic spell for a thousand years. Now, here in Manhattan, the spell is broken, and we live again! We are defenders of the night! We are Gargoyles!
Green Acres is the place to be. Farm livin’ is the life for me. Land spreadin’ out so far and wide. Keep Manhattan, just give me that countryside. New York is where I’d rather stay. I get allergic smelling hay. I just adore a penthouse view. Darling I love you but give me Park Avenue. The chores! The stores! Fresh air! Times Square! You are my wife. Good bye, city life. Green Acres we are there!