Helplessly she lies tied,
her voluptuous body bound
to the tracks by the black-hearted villain.
“Save me!” she sobs
at the bottom of the screen
as the piano thunders doom.
Black liner underscores her terror.
Her breast heaves futilely
against her savage bonds.
The villain throws back his head
and laughs a wicked laugh.
We read its warning whistle!
Could her eyes look more frightened?
Could the villain look more villainous?
Where is the hero?
Where is he!
And then . . .
at the last possible moment,
as the piano crescendos hysterically,
the train hurtles ever closer,
the villain laughs, “Ha-ha!”
and the maiden begs, “Save me!”
the hero comes.
Racing bravely, fearlessly
toward the furiously steaming train,
he swoops, cuts bonds, and lifts
the clinging, grateful beauty
in his brawny arms.
“How can I ever repay you?”
she murmurs, doe-eyed with promise
as they dive into the river far below.
the villain, one foot caught in the trestle,
screams in horror.
“Help me! Someone help me!”
Go to black.
Piano spikes a discordant cord.
Curtain falls, lights come up.
sweep popcorn off their laps.
Bosoms sigh as women consider the hero.
Men reflect on the maiden, those eyes,