This is the tale of a boy who used magic.

His reasons were sound but the outcome was...tragic.

Look at him, stupefied, trapped in a bubble.

Allow me to outline the cause of the trouble.

Rupert Shelley, for that was this young fellow's name,

was like other children, but not quite the same.

He'd gladly have faced any vampire or ghoul

than the venomous creatures who plagued him at school.

Here was a place of morose introspection,

where books offered little by way of protection.

'Til one day, a new face appeared in the class.

Flaming-haired Jill, her pale skin smooth as glass,

eyes blue as sapphires, a nose like a kitten.

Naturally, Rupert was utterly smitten.

Books on the subject of girls were quite charming,

though some of the pictures inside were alarming.

With his dreams and ambitions consumed by romance,

his ghoulish companions scarce rated a glance.

The décor, once eerie, now whimsical, quaint

a virtual shrine to true love's patron saint.

In time, the day came for which Rupert had pined,

and so, with his heart and his card intertwined,

he stood before Jill as if floating in space.

Then, suddenly, everything fell into place.

But girls can be fickle, and love can be cruel,

as Rupert discovered the next day at school.

With a turn-about worthy of Jekyll and Hyde,

Jill, quite transformed, took poor Rupert aside,

To inform him, quite coldly, that they would now part.

Thus breaking their tryst, she fragmented his heart.

With his feelings in shreds, not to mention his pride,

in his room Rupert sat, and he desperately tried

to erase every trace of the hurt, but he couldn't.

He prayed it would fade, but it stubbornly wouldn't.

Just then, he remembered a spell he'd once read,

in a volume of magic he kept by the bed.

A strange incantation he couldn't construe.

But he thought to himself what harm could it do?

UT COR MEUM BULLA CONTINEATUR

Spells can be potent, this more than others.

To Rupert's surprise, not to mention his mother's.

In class the malevolent taunts of his peers

were indistinct mumbles that fell on deaf ears.

Yet this wondrous power was lost on our hero,

his range of emotions diminished to zero.

Cocooned, un-hygienically, life become bleak

each dull day predictable, week after week,

no echo of sadness, nor spark of elation,

locked up with his memories, robbed of sensation.

A poor end to this tale, I'm sure you'll concur.

But hope's not yet lost for our sorry young Sir.

On the point of accepting his wretched existence,

passively gazing on life from a distance,

Dimly, he noticed a girl drawing closer,

her head in a tome that appeared to engross her.

Suddenly, the bubble compressed,

and something like lightning shot right through his chest.

As the old saying goes, every tale has two sides,

but you might be surprised that it also applies

to enchantment. For hidden in each magic spell,

is not only the hex, but the un-hex as well.

Only she who could see past the enchanted skin,

would set free the heart of the boy trapped within.

The tale is now told, let us pause for reflection.

Hearts, as you've seen, need no magic protection.

Flirting with spell books is asking for trouble!

So don't be like Rupert and wish for - well, you know.

[Trailer:

Good evening!
It would be unkind to begin this tale without a word of friendly warning.
It is one of the strangest tales ever told.
A story filled with love, betrayal, monsters, and magic.
I think it will thrill you, it... may shock you, it might even... horrify you.
Now let me begin – the tale of the boy... in the bubble.]

This is the tale of a boy who used magic.
His reasons were sound but the outcome was tragic.
Look at him – stupefied, trapped in a bubble.
Allow me to outline the cause of the trouble.

Rupert Shelley – for that was this young fellow's name –
Was like other children but not quite the same.
He'd gladly have faced any vampire or ghoul
Than the venomous creatures who plagued him at school.
Here was a place of morose introspection
Where books offered little by way of protection.
Till one day a new face appeared in the class.
Flaming-haired Jill, her pale skin smooth as glass,
Eyes blue as sapphires, a nose like a kitten -
Naturally, Rupert was utterly smitten.

Books on the subject of girls were quite charming
Though some of the pictures inside were alarming...

With his dreams and ambitions consumed by romance
His ghoulish companions scarce rated a glance
The décor, once eerie, now – whimsical, quaint
A virtual shrine to true love's Patron Saint.
In time, the day came for which Rupert had pined
And so, with his heart and his card intertwined
He stood before Jill as if floating in space
Then suddenly everything fell into place.

But girls can be fickle and love can be cruel
As Rupert discovered the next day at school.
With a turn-about worthy of Jekyll and Hyde
Jill, quite transformed, took poor Rupert aside
To inform him – quite coldly – that they would now part
Thus breaking their tryst she fragmented his heart.
With his feelings in shreds not to mention his pride
In his room Rupert sat and he desperately tried
To erase every trace of the hurt – but he couldn't
He prayed it would fade – but it stubbornly wouldn't.
Just then he remembered a spell he'd once read
In a volume of Magic he kept by the bed.
A strange incantation he couldn't construe
But he thought to himself, “What harm could it do?”
“Ut Cor Meum Bulla Contineatur”
Spells can be potent – this more than others
To Rupert's surprise – not to mention his mother's.

In class, the malevolent taunts of his peers
Were now indistinct mumbles that fell on deaf ears.
Yet this wondrous power was lost on our hero,
His range of emotions diminished to zero.
Cocooned, un-hygienically, life became bleak
Each dull day predictable – week after week.
No echo of sadness, nor spark of elation
Locked up with his memories, robbed of sensation.

“A poor end to this tale.” - I'm sure you'll concur.
But hope's not yet lost for our sorry young Sir.

On the point of accepting his wretched existence
Passively gazing on life from a distance
Dimly, he noticed a girl drawing closer,
Her head in a tome
That appeared to engross her.

Suddenly, the bubble compressed,
And something like lightning shot right through his chest.
As the old saying goes, “every tale has two sides”
But you might be surprised that it also applies to enchantment.
For hidden in each magic spell, is not only the hex but the un-hex as well.

Only she who could see past the enchanted skin
Would set free the heart of the boy – trapped... within.

The tale is now told – let us pause for reflection.
Hearts, as you've seen, need no magic protection.
Flirting with spell books is asking for trouble,
So don't be like Rupert and wish for... well, you know.