Fezzik bunched his giant body and shoved down with his mighty legs, shoved harder then he ever had before. As soon as his body began its upward trajectory, he started with his arms, his great tireless arms, windmilling them with more ferocity than the whirlpool had ever known, and it did what it could-increased its roar, swirled more savagely-but the arms would not stop, nothing could make them stop, and the chains held, and the others were unconscious from the battle, but Fezzik knew, as soon as he surfaced at the far end of the whirlpool, that Inigo had been right with his rhyme, he definitely was not a zero, not this day of days.....

Buttercup’s Baby, Chapter 1