CUT TO: Stallman standing on a rooftop, brooding. His hands at his hips. His cape flutters in the chilly evening wind. "In your darkest hour, when the demons c

CUT TO: Stallman standing on a rooftop, brooding. His hands at his hips. His cape flutters in the chilly evening wind. "In your darkest hour, when the demons come, call on me brother, and we will fight them together!"