-So, thanks in part to a tip off from good ol' Travis, I went to Blockbuster with a free rental coupon and a dream: to reap the benefits of a washed-up business, bless em. Yes, I planned on digging through their 3 for 20, 4 for 20, 5 for 20 bins of pre-viewed DVDs. And dug I did, dig? So, in the 3 section, I found many a spoil: The Box, The Fantastic Mr. Fox, The Informant!, Crank 2. But, no. I found my prizes among these. (500) Days of Summer! I Sell The Dead! And this. My beloved. The movie I shall hold dear to my heart until the next great zomromcom comes. A joyous day, 'twas.
-So, when we (I, Danielle, and Parental) went to this in theatres, I told them ahead of time, I said, "We gotta stay after the credits, yo. There's an awesome scene afterwards." So the movie ends, and these two jokers, they stand up to leave. After I explicitly told them benefits await if only they were to stay seated. I know!
So I tells em, I says, "Were you not listening? There's awesomeness lying underneath these credits!"
They says, "MRAWWWWWWW!", because they're pterodactyls, duh. But I tells em I'm staying whether they do or not. So they basically have to stick around because, y'know, I'm their world. So we hover about the entrance, everyone else has left (suckas), and these two yahoos are getting fidgety. I tells em to hold their fucking horses, yo! They keep saying, we indulge you, I, because we loves you, you're our High Priestess, bitchez, but we know for a fact you're wrong. And I'm all, bah humbug, skalliwags, you'll see!
So the song credits have gone by, advertisements almost done, and they begin to leave. And I'm all, garrrrr!, and they're all, mrawwww!, and I'm all, sssssssssa!, and they're all, szjhfsxf!, and basically it's down to who can make the weirder sound.
And then the credits end.
And. I. Won.
Seriously, my lovelies, I told them were they could stick their mrawwwws, I lost my shit. I wish I had recorded the victory dance I had done just then, oh, what a glorious dance it was!
-Go Tallahasse. That is all.
plato's cave eleven (being a film journal) - carl franklin - *one false move* - 1992 was just watching this for the first time last week and about to watch *a simple plan* for a second time, then fou...
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