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M. Night Shyamalan's Modern Library

Daniel McCoy

Introduced, abridged, and tastefully altered.

If you've always yearned to read the classics, but fear that you won't be able to finish an old (and probably long) novel without the promise of a big surprise at the end; or if you're a book-lover who wants to experience the sense of discovery you felt as a first-time reader, then these handsome, leather-poly blend volumes are for you!

Introduced, abridged, and tastefully altered by the modern master of "Hey, Gotcha," M. Night Shyamalan himself, these matching volumes are sure to be a valuable addition to your home, apartment, friend's couch, teepee, igloo, or potlatch.

What do you get as part of this fantastic set? Here are some excerpts from selected volumes, complete with representative twist endings (actual twist endings may vary).


"…Jo, Jo! What will you do with Aunt March's estate, pray tell?" Meg asked, excitedly. "You don't intend to sell it," she added, with a reproachful look, "Do you?"

"Well," Jo said, in her slow, thoughtful way, "I think it might be nice if Professor Bhaer and I open a school together. Yes, I think a school might be nice–a school for boys. 'Little Men,' if you will."

"How wonderful!" Amy exclaimed. "Just think of the possibilities that opens up for a sequel!"

"I can't say I understand what you mean…" Jo began, but suddenly she recoiled in horror. For over the crest of the house she was suddenly aware of two giant human faces, and an outsized hand, holding an enormous magnifying glass. With dawning horror, Jo said, "Why, Beth didn't die of an illness at all! She was burned up by the rays of the sun, focused via that giant implement of magnification. Now I wonder how we could have possibly gotten those two things mixed up…"

And then she spoke no more, for the remaining March girls were soon engulfed in a deadly holocaust, whose greedy flames consumed their bodies as it lay waste to their familial home, leaving only a discolored blot on the pavement.

Billy Jenkins, aged seven, turned to his cousin, saying, "That's funny. For a moment those ants looked just like little women…"



…The rest is silence.



Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:

And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

[Horatio suddenly cracks up laughing, and pours water over Hamlet's head]


What the?


What a piece of work thou art, Hamlet.

So noble in reason, yet so easy to fool!


Be you an angel, Horatio? I must confess, I am confounded.


Happy Birthday Hamlet!

[Gertrude, Claudius, and Laertes sit up, as Ophelia, Hamlet's Father, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern enter stage right]

All, save Hamlet:



'Twas just a jest, a clever sally, fair Hamlet.

Lift the gloom of death from your sweet visage,

and gaze on those alive. 'Twas a mere birthday prank.


But father, your ghost–

I did imagine you had a most unearthly glow.

Hamlet's Father

The things one can do with paint and a blacklight are wond'rous fair.


And Polonius! Polonius is alive too?


Er… no. You stabbed him through the curtain.

We didn't see that one coming.


Oh. But why? Why a prank of such fiendish intricacy?

To what end?


Well, you seemed so sad, so gloomy lately, so…






"…From hell's heart I stab at thee," cried Ahab, readying his harpoon to stab into the blubber of the monstrous fish.

Suddenly, the words came flowing from my mouth unbidden, like the vomit that had come when I learned we'd been eating manatee all trip. "Wait, stay thy hand! Lest you kill your own kin!"

"Ahoy?" Ahab inquired.

"That whale–that whale is your father."

Queequeg suddenly looked seasick.

"No, it be not true!" cried Ahab. "'Tis impossible!" As he cried, Ahab's remaining leg was ripped from him by some wayward rigging; but the injury found no reflection in his face, although he did grow slightly paler from the massive blood loss.

"Yes, and as for me, call me not Ishmael, but Ishmette, for I am your mother."

"Ma?" my darling Ahab asked, tentatively.

"You see," I said, settling into a rocking chair, situated comfortably in the rowboat's stern, "I've always been attracted to waters. Drawn to them, in fact. So it was perfectly natural that I find my mate in their briny depths."

Queequeg's tattoos turned a deep shade of green. I continued. "So one thing led to another, and there's a reason he's called Moby Dick!" My son looked embarrassed to learn that his transsexual sailor mother had ever had a sex life, so I skipped ahead, "Anyway, nine months later there you were. Half-man, half-whale. Obviously you get most of your looks from me. I always felt bad about abandoning you, so I signed onto this voyage to keep you near."

Ahab sobbed deeply, tho' whether it was from my confession, or the bloody void where his legs had been, I could not say. "I always felt that my deep need to chase albino sea creatures came from the emptiness I felt from being an orphan."

"I know son, I know."

And from the belly of Moby Dick, came whale-song, deep and pure and clear, and the words Dick spoke bubbled up from the water: "Son, howsabout we play a game of catch?…"


Ironically, there is no twist in Oliver Twist.

And in the spirit of Mr. Shyamalan, the price of each volume will be a complete surprise, known only by the publisher–a secret withheld from you until that thrilling moment when you draw the bill from its envelope and finally realize the full significance of all the credit overdrawn notices that came before. Will it be $0.02? Will it be $102.02? Only the modern master of "Hey, Jackass, Didn't See That Coming, Huh?" knows for sure.

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 Yes, please send me the complete 113 volume set of M. Night Shyamalan's Modern Library

 No, don't send me the complete 113 volume set of M. Night Shyamalan's Modern Library. Instead, surprise me by leaving them in a bloody sack at the foot of my bed, making me suspect that I was the killer all along!

 Please send me M. Night Shyamalan's Pornographic Library, with each sexual act more unexpected than the last!

 I have enclosed payment.  Bill me later. [X] Both.

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