Suppose there was an alternative ending to the story in which, in an ironic twist, Fortunato tricked and killed Montresor. Write a narrative essay showing
from Fortunato's point of view his plans, motives and reasons for his doing so.
Hurry Please

I had to do this, I couldn't die to Montresor, he said it wasn't a joke he had planned to kill me. I would never see my wife again, I had to make a plan. I pulled on the chains I had given up on earlier, using my weight to my advantage I was able to bend the chain links, sweating and having my feet slip on the dusty floor it finally gave away. There was only a one stone gap left, I still had the chains on my wrist's I began to shake them so he would look inside. I began to howl and scream as loud as I could. Seeing his hands grab the ledge of the small space left, I trudged as fast as I could with my drunken state.

I hastily  grabbed Montresor's trowel through the one stone gap, "H-how?" He stuttered as he struggled with me. I tried to speak but my throat being so raw from screaming for hours. Montresor's fingers slowly slipping as his strength was disappearing, with a quick maneuver I had one hand on the trowel and one on Montresor's wrist. His eyes going wide, as he began to let go; I had the trowel on my  tip toes I  slid my hand higher up on his arm. My hand on his bicep he started to struggle with such aggression I had to drop the trowel, grabbing his arm with both hands.

"Please-e don't, it was simply a good joke for carnival!" Monteros grunted out.

"There is no wine here, your a liar Montresor!" I spit back at him. I pulled him up, making his feet lift off the ground holding his coat I bent down and picked up his trowel. His eyes widened I swung wildly at his head. He screamed, making my ears pop, again and again I swung hitting almost every time. he pushed with almost no strength, I steadied myself and swung this time hitting my own hand. I dropped Montresor and the trowel, holding my hand I staggered backwards. Montresor groaned, I heard him try to stand up, failing each time with a thud.

I couldn't let him get away, he would tell the whole carnival, picking up the trowel I began to work feverishly at the bone wall. I made a hole big enough for me to squeeze through I saw Montresor on the ground, laying in a pool of black blood. I picked his soulless body up and pushed him through my hole. Throwing the trowel in the room with him, I let my arms fall to my sides with the chains making a deathly rattle as I began to walk away with Montresor's blood on my body.

were they embroiderers?

lee and grant, both of whom held the highest rank in their respective armies, had known each other slightly during the mexican-american war (1846-48) and began their dialogue by exchanging awkward personal inquiries. characteristically, grant had arrived in his mud-splattered field uniform while lee had turned out in full dress attire, complete with sash and sword.

explanation: