Hello customer service team,
I hope you are all having a good day. I am writing to simply enquire why on Earth the Mary Shelley pub in Bournemouth has a 'no trainers' policy on a Saturday night. It's extremely odd considering it is essentially just a pub. The Moon in the Square nearby doesn't have this policy and neither does the Christopher Creeke. In fact, neither do any of the other clubs nearby who I would perhaps expect to have a 'no trainers' policy. So why do you? It makes very little sense in my opinion and this is for three rather brilliant reasons.
The first is that trainers actually have more grip on those slippery floors. If you're a pub then you shouldn't really have a slippery floor anyway but many clubs do. If you are a club then surely wearing trainers is fantastic for health and safety. You can thank me when you change your policy and thus prevent any unfortunate hospital related incidents.
The second reason is that many people around us were wearing what can only be described as a millennium shell suit. A kind of 2010 version of its 1980's predecessor. Hoodies were worn as well but because they wore some fairly nice shoes they were allowed in. So if this is an image thing, which I think it probably is, why did the bouncers let these people in? Very odd.
My third and final reason is probably the best reason of all. You know when you walk into an establishment, say a shop or a hospital or even a pub like in this case, and instantly look to the floor making sure to take in what everyone is wearing on their feet? No? Yeah, neither do I or anyone I know. I can honestly say that upon entering a pub or club I have never taken note of what anybody is wearing on their feet. This is because the bar isn't at foot level but eye level. Why would anyone look around at what is on people's feet? It's the most ridiculous rule I've ever heard in my life. If I did look at the footwear of everybody else in any given establishment, I very much doubt I'd freak out over a pair of trainers either. My reaction would probably be 'fair enough'. I think 99% of people would have this reaction as well so why do you even enforce this policy?
I look forward to hearing your feedback on all three of my reasons for removing this rule. If you can suggest a decent comeback for all three of my points then fair enough but remember if you contest the first reason then you are essentially saying you don't care about the health and safety of your customers. Don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger.
That is all for now. Don't even get me started on the differing prices for sausages, chips and beans around the country...
Kind regards,
Henry Fosdike
Showing posts with label to. Show all posts
Showing posts with label to. Show all posts
Tuesday, 6 July 2010
Sunday, 23 May 2010
Pacman Remembered radio sketch
The following is a long sketch I wrote for radio the other day... It does help if you have a basic knowledge of the world of Pacman.
Reg Murphy: Hello and welcome to another all new edition of What’s Behind the Game?, the documentary series which takes a look back at popular gaming series of the past. Tonight we venture forth into the murky world of the popular arcade classic, Pacman. We meet its stars and discuss the goings on of how they made the game. From the outside it appears to be just another video game, but upon removing the exterior and hearing the stories from those involved, a much more interesting picture begins to emerge. Sit back, relax and enjoy their memories of a game fraught with tension from the very start.
Pause and then come into the dialogue as though the person has been talking for a while and his interview has been edited down.
Pink Ghost: ...Yes I was, yes. I remember it vividly, almost like it was yesterday. I went into the room and I saw the costumes laid out there and I remember thinking I had clearly been set up. I was lead to believe when I signed up that I would be a white ghost...
Pink Ghost’s chat fades out.
Interviewer: He seems to think he was meant to be a white ghost.
Pacman: I wouldn’t know. I had nothing to do with the ghost costumes. I simply put on my yellow orb costume and went for it, you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if he complained though. I do remember him complaining a lot.
Fade back to Pink Ghost’s interview.
Pink Ghost: I know was a little aggressive at the time perhaps, but I had been conned! They tried to sell my costume as salmon coloured. It’s not, it’s pink. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? And...I think it was clear to me, since meeting the others that I was the ‘joke’ of the pack if you like, never truly accepted and I think they ruined my costume as a result of that.
Fade out...
Red Ghost: I think that’s nonsense.
Interviewer: You think that’s nonsense?
Red Ghost: I do, yes. I do. There was never any malice from me certainly, I can’t speak for the blue ghost or the orange ghost obviously, but from my point of view, there was never any problem that I had with the salmon coloured ghost.
Interviewer: He claims you may have put his white costume with your red costume, in the wash?
Red Ghost: No that’s utterly ridiculous. I had nothing to do with the washing.
Fade out...
Pacman: I think what happened, umm, from what I can gather, at least...is that the costumes of the four ghosts were arranged to be red, white, orange and blue but there was something that happened between the four of them which meant that wasn’t the case.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I was annoyed. I was. I can’t deny it. Have you tried wearing pink in public? You haven’t? Well...
Fade out...
Orange ghost: Has he? I remember that vividly. The costume situation. Yeah. The original wardrobe malfunction as it’s called. But I think I am the only person that genuinely know what that was all about. From memory the blue ghost, was extremely good friends with the developer of the game and when I was looking for my orange costume one day I did over hear their discussion, which I have to say, made a lot of sense to me.
Fade out...
Interviewer: The orange ghost says you may have been to blame for the pink coloured ghost costume?
Blue ghost: Me? I don’t know where he got that from! No! No, it wasn’t me...
Fade out...
Orange Ghost: I remember it vividly. Umm, I was looking for my costume, which was often misplaced by the yellow orb, as we used to call him. And that often made us more aggressive when filming the actual gameplay, it made us more intent to catch him...but I digress, I turned the corner and the blue ghost has some ‘issues’ I think you could say with a white hooded figure chasing down a character who could, if you shortened their name, be referred to as ‘packie’.
Fade out...
Pacman: I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anybody calling me that. No. I wouldn’t have been offended though. Why would I? It’s just a shortened name surely? No, what I used to get offended by was when they would call me
Instant cut to
Pink ghost: The rolling yellow boulder? Yeah, we did call him that. We did. In hindsight was an extremely stupid thing for a guy in a pink hood to be saying to a character twice his size.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: The rolling yellow boulder? Yes. It was great.
Fade out...
Red ghost laughs.
Red ghost: Oh my days! I’d forgotten about that! I had! The rolling yellow boulder. We did call each other a lot of names actually. It was a very difficult production though. Very heated. Very early on, I remember thinking, this guy in yellow is gonna blow. He needs something to calm him down.
Fade out...
Orange ghost: It’s important to remember we were working long hours down there in that maze, with only neon blue lights to guide us, really. I mean once he’d rolled over those floor lights they disappeared. We used to joke that he used to break them rather than the pressure system which would remove the ‘pills’ I believe they are called, from the game.
Fade out...
Pacman: There were a lot of joke about my weight, yes. I was on the verge of leaving at one point but then they agreed to my request to flip the scenario, every now and again and allow me to chase them.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I think he could have been gay. I did think that for a long time and really did worry me, wearing that pink shirt.
Fade out...
Interviewer: I mean, you were the blue ghost anyway.
Blue ghost: I was... exactly!
Fade out...
Red ghost: He did used to complain.
Interviewer: He did?
Red ghost: Well...you have to remember it was different for me. I was wearing red, so the change was noticeable. And orange and salmon were the same. But I don’t think the blue ghost ever wanted to change his cloak over because it was just a different shade of blue.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: Annoyed? I was furious! Do you have any idea how easy it is to change over the cloak? And they wanted it done quickly. It just seemed pointless to me, I mean...red to blue, fair enough. Orange or salmon to blue...again, fair enough. But blue to ...blue? And then when caught we had to run back to base, and turn it over again back to our normal colour. So I literally went from blue to blue to blue to blue. Ridiculous. I mean, whose idea was that?
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I did laugh at the time. I did, yes. I found it very funny simply because he then knew what I was going through with my own personal costume problem.
Fade out...
Pacman: It did make him easier to catch than the others, yes. Because sometimes he wouldn’t be able to see which shade he was putting back on. It’s very difficult in that light. Especially towards the end of a level when there wouldn’t be many of the lights left shining.
Fade out...
Interviewer: Was there any sexual tension within the group?
Red ghost: Oh yes. The fruit. The fruit were played by women. Strawberry, cherry, you name it, it was a female. And all of the ghosts used to run about trying to attract their attentions but obviously it was too much of a done deal really.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: Yes. The cherries. She was quite a looker. And the strawberry too.
Fade out...
Cherry: We only had eyes for the one character, I think.
Strawberry: Yes. We were young, carefree and to be honest, if you could wander off with the lead singer of a band or the drummer, who would it be?
Fade out...
Orange ghost: Pacman. Everytime. They would always go for the rolling yellow boulder. But then they had more time with him. During the actual gaming part of the production, we had no reason to roll anywhere near the fruit so.. he naturally had an advantage to woo them.
Fade out...
Pacman: It was wonderful! It was! I can’t deny it. Cherry, strawberry, hell sometimes even the kiwi. It was great.
Fade out...
Interviewer: Did you ever have any success with the fruit?
Pink ghost: No. No...but I was wearing a pink hood you have to remember.
Fade out...
Interviewer: One final question to you all. Do you understand how the portal worked from walking out of one side of the maze and ending up instantly on the other?
Cherry: Well, we were the fruit, so I only ever heard about it from pacman.
Fade out...
Strawberry: I saw it once. I did. Kiwi once said she went through it but I don’t think she was telling the truth. We never had any reason to ever go anywhere near it.
Fade out...
Red ghost: I used to love going through there. I really did. I used to imagine myself as some kind of red mist...just...oh I loved it.
Fade out...
Pacman: No. I have no idea how it worked. But the costume used to slow me down. And it was a tight squeeze. The boulder name, looking back, was a fair description. I was huge.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: I think it was just some teleportation device I think. I don’t know. I’m still furious about that blue to blue thing, you’ve reminded me about.
Fade out...
Orange ghost: The tunnel? I have no idea how that worked. I heard rumours that the blue ghost has fixed it or something, but I don’t know. Very impressive piece of engineering though.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: How did the portal device work? Witchcraft. No question, witchcraft. I wouldn’t put it past the red ghost to have created that. He ruined a perfectly costume for me. I mean...salmon?!
Fade out...
Reg Murphy: So there we have it. The cast of pacman talking there about their experiences. That’s all from me, I hope you enjoyed it, but take some pleasure from the sneak preview of next week’s show, which will focus on Pong. Goodnight.
Fade out...
Pong Ball: Yes it pissed me off being the ball! I was whacked left, right, left, right. It was a relief when one of them missed me. A horrible time Horrible.
Reg Murphy: Hello and welcome to another all new edition of What’s Behind the Game?, the documentary series which takes a look back at popular gaming series of the past. Tonight we venture forth into the murky world of the popular arcade classic, Pacman. We meet its stars and discuss the goings on of how they made the game. From the outside it appears to be just another video game, but upon removing the exterior and hearing the stories from those involved, a much more interesting picture begins to emerge. Sit back, relax and enjoy their memories of a game fraught with tension from the very start.
Pause and then come into the dialogue as though the person has been talking for a while and his interview has been edited down.
Pink Ghost: ...Yes I was, yes. I remember it vividly, almost like it was yesterday. I went into the room and I saw the costumes laid out there and I remember thinking I had clearly been set up. I was lead to believe when I signed up that I would be a white ghost...
Pink Ghost’s chat fades out.
Interviewer: He seems to think he was meant to be a white ghost.
Pacman: I wouldn’t know. I had nothing to do with the ghost costumes. I simply put on my yellow orb costume and went for it, you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if he complained though. I do remember him complaining a lot.
Fade back to Pink Ghost’s interview.
Pink Ghost: I know was a little aggressive at the time perhaps, but I had been conned! They tried to sell my costume as salmon coloured. It’s not, it’s pink. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? And...I think it was clear to me, since meeting the others that I was the ‘joke’ of the pack if you like, never truly accepted and I think they ruined my costume as a result of that.
Fade out...
Red Ghost: I think that’s nonsense.
Interviewer: You think that’s nonsense?
Red Ghost: I do, yes. I do. There was never any malice from me certainly, I can’t speak for the blue ghost or the orange ghost obviously, but from my point of view, there was never any problem that I had with the salmon coloured ghost.
Interviewer: He claims you may have put his white costume with your red costume, in the wash?
Red Ghost: No that’s utterly ridiculous. I had nothing to do with the washing.
Fade out...
Pacman: I think what happened, umm, from what I can gather, at least...is that the costumes of the four ghosts were arranged to be red, white, orange and blue but there was something that happened between the four of them which meant that wasn’t the case.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I was annoyed. I was. I can’t deny it. Have you tried wearing pink in public? You haven’t? Well...
Fade out...
Orange ghost: Has he? I remember that vividly. The costume situation. Yeah. The original wardrobe malfunction as it’s called. But I think I am the only person that genuinely know what that was all about. From memory the blue ghost, was extremely good friends with the developer of the game and when I was looking for my orange costume one day I did over hear their discussion, which I have to say, made a lot of sense to me.
Fade out...
Interviewer: The orange ghost says you may have been to blame for the pink coloured ghost costume?
Blue ghost: Me? I don’t know where he got that from! No! No, it wasn’t me...
Fade out...
Orange Ghost: I remember it vividly. Umm, I was looking for my costume, which was often misplaced by the yellow orb, as we used to call him. And that often made us more aggressive when filming the actual gameplay, it made us more intent to catch him...but I digress, I turned the corner and the blue ghost has some ‘issues’ I think you could say with a white hooded figure chasing down a character who could, if you shortened their name, be referred to as ‘packie’.
Fade out...
Pacman: I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anybody calling me that. No. I wouldn’t have been offended though. Why would I? It’s just a shortened name surely? No, what I used to get offended by was when they would call me
Instant cut to
Pink ghost: The rolling yellow boulder? Yeah, we did call him that. We did. In hindsight was an extremely stupid thing for a guy in a pink hood to be saying to a character twice his size.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: The rolling yellow boulder? Yes. It was great.
Fade out...
Red ghost laughs.
Red ghost: Oh my days! I’d forgotten about that! I had! The rolling yellow boulder. We did call each other a lot of names actually. It was a very difficult production though. Very heated. Very early on, I remember thinking, this guy in yellow is gonna blow. He needs something to calm him down.
Fade out...
Orange ghost: It’s important to remember we were working long hours down there in that maze, with only neon blue lights to guide us, really. I mean once he’d rolled over those floor lights they disappeared. We used to joke that he used to break them rather than the pressure system which would remove the ‘pills’ I believe they are called, from the game.
Fade out...
Pacman: There were a lot of joke about my weight, yes. I was on the verge of leaving at one point but then they agreed to my request to flip the scenario, every now and again and allow me to chase them.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I think he could have been gay. I did think that for a long time and really did worry me, wearing that pink shirt.
Fade out...
Interviewer: I mean, you were the blue ghost anyway.
Blue ghost: I was... exactly!
Fade out...
Red ghost: He did used to complain.
Interviewer: He did?
Red ghost: Well...you have to remember it was different for me. I was wearing red, so the change was noticeable. And orange and salmon were the same. But I don’t think the blue ghost ever wanted to change his cloak over because it was just a different shade of blue.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: Annoyed? I was furious! Do you have any idea how easy it is to change over the cloak? And they wanted it done quickly. It just seemed pointless to me, I mean...red to blue, fair enough. Orange or salmon to blue...again, fair enough. But blue to ...blue? And then when caught we had to run back to base, and turn it over again back to our normal colour. So I literally went from blue to blue to blue to blue. Ridiculous. I mean, whose idea was that?
Fade out...
Pink ghost: I did laugh at the time. I did, yes. I found it very funny simply because he then knew what I was going through with my own personal costume problem.
Fade out...
Pacman: It did make him easier to catch than the others, yes. Because sometimes he wouldn’t be able to see which shade he was putting back on. It’s very difficult in that light. Especially towards the end of a level when there wouldn’t be many of the lights left shining.
Fade out...
Interviewer: Was there any sexual tension within the group?
Red ghost: Oh yes. The fruit. The fruit were played by women. Strawberry, cherry, you name it, it was a female. And all of the ghosts used to run about trying to attract their attentions but obviously it was too much of a done deal really.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: Yes. The cherries. She was quite a looker. And the strawberry too.
Fade out...
Cherry: We only had eyes for the one character, I think.
Strawberry: Yes. We were young, carefree and to be honest, if you could wander off with the lead singer of a band or the drummer, who would it be?
Fade out...
Orange ghost: Pacman. Everytime. They would always go for the rolling yellow boulder. But then they had more time with him. During the actual gaming part of the production, we had no reason to roll anywhere near the fruit so.. he naturally had an advantage to woo them.
Fade out...
Pacman: It was wonderful! It was! I can’t deny it. Cherry, strawberry, hell sometimes even the kiwi. It was great.
Fade out...
Interviewer: Did you ever have any success with the fruit?
Pink ghost: No. No...but I was wearing a pink hood you have to remember.
Fade out...
Interviewer: One final question to you all. Do you understand how the portal worked from walking out of one side of the maze and ending up instantly on the other?
Cherry: Well, we were the fruit, so I only ever heard about it from pacman.
Fade out...
Strawberry: I saw it once. I did. Kiwi once said she went through it but I don’t think she was telling the truth. We never had any reason to ever go anywhere near it.
Fade out...
Red ghost: I used to love going through there. I really did. I used to imagine myself as some kind of red mist...just...oh I loved it.
Fade out...
Pacman: No. I have no idea how it worked. But the costume used to slow me down. And it was a tight squeeze. The boulder name, looking back, was a fair description. I was huge.
Fade out...
Blue ghost: I think it was just some teleportation device I think. I don’t know. I’m still furious about that blue to blue thing, you’ve reminded me about.
Fade out...
Orange ghost: The tunnel? I have no idea how that worked. I heard rumours that the blue ghost has fixed it or something, but I don’t know. Very impressive piece of engineering though.
Fade out...
Pink ghost: How did the portal device work? Witchcraft. No question, witchcraft. I wouldn’t put it past the red ghost to have created that. He ruined a perfectly costume for me. I mean...salmon?!
Fade out...
Reg Murphy: So there we have it. The cast of pacman talking there about their experiences. That’s all from me, I hope you enjoyed it, but take some pleasure from the sneak preview of next week’s show, which will focus on Pong. Goodnight.
Fade out...
Pong Ball: Yes it pissed me off being the ball! I was whacked left, right, left, right. It was a relief when one of them missed me. A horrible time Horrible.
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
The Best Invention Of All Time
A while ago, I was sitting with my brother (that shows it was a while ago; he doesn't live with me anymore) and we were watching something on TV when I had a thought. It wasn't particularly interesting but I thought I'd ask my brother for his opinion on the matter.
So I casually asked him what was the best invention of all time. My answer was pretty good, so he'd have to go some way to top it. If you can think up one now then that'd be cool. Play along at home. Just have a think.
Anyway, he thought for a moment. And by a moment, I mean a good 30 seconds of contemplation. Before delivering an epic speech that I was not expecting.
"Time." He said finally.
Yes, he can be a clever little shit sometimes.
He went on... "Because, think about it. There is no such thing as time really. I mean there is, but no way of measuring it. We invented that. We came up with seconds and minutes and hours. How long does it take to get somewhere? Time. How old we are. Time. How long something takes to cook. Time." He went on in this vain for far too long and my mind wandered for his last few minutes praising the advent of time.
My mind only reconnected with the real world when he had finished and I had him utter, "why, what were you thinking?"
Now, before I tell you my answer, I don't think it needs to be explained. When compared to my brother's answer it may not really look as though I had put as much thought into my own question as he had, but in its own way, I still admire my almost naive approach to conjuring up what I believed (at least prior to asking my brother), to be the best invention of all time.
What was my answer I here you ask?
A toaster.
So I casually asked him what was the best invention of all time. My answer was pretty good, so he'd have to go some way to top it. If you can think up one now then that'd be cool. Play along at home. Just have a think.
Anyway, he thought for a moment. And by a moment, I mean a good 30 seconds of contemplation. Before delivering an epic speech that I was not expecting.
"Time." He said finally.
Yes, he can be a clever little shit sometimes.
He went on... "Because, think about it. There is no such thing as time really. I mean there is, but no way of measuring it. We invented that. We came up with seconds and minutes and hours. How long does it take to get somewhere? Time. How old we are. Time. How long something takes to cook. Time." He went on in this vain for far too long and my mind wandered for his last few minutes praising the advent of time.
My mind only reconnected with the real world when he had finished and I had him utter, "why, what were you thinking?"
Now, before I tell you my answer, I don't think it needs to be explained. When compared to my brother's answer it may not really look as though I had put as much thought into my own question as he had, but in its own way, I still admire my almost naive approach to conjuring up what I believed (at least prior to asking my brother), to be the best invention of all time.
What was my answer I here you ask?
A toaster.
Wednesday, 18 November 2009
Ex-Nazi
It's a cruel place to get comedy from, but I shall try anyway!
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/8364447.stm
The headline reads - 'Ex-Nazi' charged with 58 murders.
Now...how does one go about becoming an Ex-Nazi? Is it the moment Hitler died, he went, "I guess that's that, then." And hung up his cap.
Or is as he was at a holocaust camp and was suddenly tapped on the shoulder.
"Err, Hans (no stereotypical names with me), what are you doing?"
"Oh shit...I've...I've become a Nazi haven't I?"
"Yes, Hans. Yes you have."
"Ah shit. From now on..I shall be an ex-Nazi!"
And from then on, he put Ex-Nazi on his CV? Wouldn't there be a glaring 6 year gap on the CV?
"So..1939 to 1945, what was going on?"
"Err...oh is that not on there? I do apologise, they should be there."
"Well what were you doing?"
"Err..Human Resources..in Berlin."
Harsh but...well just harsh probably. But I like it.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/8364447.stm
The headline reads - 'Ex-Nazi' charged with 58 murders.
Now...how does one go about becoming an Ex-Nazi? Is it the moment Hitler died, he went, "I guess that's that, then." And hung up his cap.
Or is as he was at a holocaust camp and was suddenly tapped on the shoulder.
"Err, Hans (no stereotypical names with me), what are you doing?"
"Oh shit...I've...I've become a Nazi haven't I?"
"Yes, Hans. Yes you have."
"Ah shit. From now on..I shall be an ex-Nazi!"
And from then on, he put Ex-Nazi on his CV? Wouldn't there be a glaring 6 year gap on the CV?
"So..1939 to 1945, what was going on?"
"Err...oh is that not on there? I do apologise, they should be there."
"Well what were you doing?"
"Err..Human Resources..in Berlin."
Harsh but...well just harsh probably. But I like it.
Sunday, 15 November 2009
"Trust Me...
...I'm a doctor."
Well a random thought just hit me.
Did that phrase ever change when Harold Shipman was around?
"I can't trust you."
"You can! Trust me, I'm a doc- oh no. I know what it is. It's the fact I killed all those people isn't it?"
Yes Harold, yes it is. There's a joke in here somewhere but I am too tired to work out where.
Well a random thought just hit me.
Did that phrase ever change when Harold Shipman was around?
"I can't trust you."
"You can! Trust me, I'm a doc- oh no. I know what it is. It's the fact I killed all those people isn't it?"
Yes Harold, yes it is. There's a joke in here somewhere but I am too tired to work out where.
Segregation - Cycling
Well this is a stupid routine I thought up on my walk home.
"Now people say that with the abolition, if you like, of apartheid, segregation is close to being eradicated once and for all. At least, we have nothing like that in Britain.
Now this of course, is complete bullshit as I am sure you know. Take for instance, a cycle path along a country lane. I walk on one to and from my house. Normally into town, I don't just do it for the sake of it. But there is a clear white line running down the path, dividing up walkers and cyclists.
Weirdly, every time I walk on it, I always stick to the walker side, even if there is nobody else around. Other walkers seem to do it too, even if we are fully aware a bike is nowhere near by. It's ridiculous. A line in the road and we stick to it, even though there is no real rule or any reason to stick to it if no cyclists are using it.
Sometimes, when I'm feeling rebellious, I will walk on the cyclists side but I always think for some reason someone will turn up and berate me for my walking on the wrong side. The cycle police if you will.
"Here! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I'm just walking home..."
"On the wrong side! That is for walkers, and this is for cyclists. Now sir, you do not appear to have a bike with you."
"What on earth are you on about? Have you met my girlfriend?"
A clever retort, I think you will agree, but sure to get me a slap.
(A mime of being slapped goes here...)
"How dare you, talk about your girlfriend in that way.."
Thus ends the routine.
See what I did there? You thought it was the girlfriend that slapped me but no! And that was what I came up with on my walk...well that and the post above which is a joke I was delighted to come up with...
"Now people say that with the abolition, if you like, of apartheid, segregation is close to being eradicated once and for all. At least, we have nothing like that in Britain.
Now this of course, is complete bullshit as I am sure you know. Take for instance, a cycle path along a country lane. I walk on one to and from my house. Normally into town, I don't just do it for the sake of it. But there is a clear white line running down the path, dividing up walkers and cyclists.
Weirdly, every time I walk on it, I always stick to the walker side, even if there is nobody else around. Other walkers seem to do it too, even if we are fully aware a bike is nowhere near by. It's ridiculous. A line in the road and we stick to it, even though there is no real rule or any reason to stick to it if no cyclists are using it.
Sometimes, when I'm feeling rebellious, I will walk on the cyclists side but I always think for some reason someone will turn up and berate me for my walking on the wrong side. The cycle police if you will.
"Here! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I'm just walking home..."
"On the wrong side! That is for walkers, and this is for cyclists. Now sir, you do not appear to have a bike with you."
"What on earth are you on about? Have you met my girlfriend?"
A clever retort, I think you will agree, but sure to get me a slap.
(A mime of being slapped goes here...)
"How dare you, talk about your girlfriend in that way.."
Thus ends the routine.
See what I did there? You thought it was the girlfriend that slapped me but no! And that was what I came up with on my walk...well that and the post above which is a joke I was delighted to come up with...
Text Books
Something I have been meaning to post for a while is a thought on text books. We all know them and we all used to loathe them. Some of us still do, but their names have changed from text books to theory books. Some have grown up with a theory book though, which they may grow to loathe over time if they are not as much of a fan of the book as their family. We call these people Christians.
Anyway, what I have been thinking about really, are the text books you received when in your teenage years. Biology, Physics, Chemistry and the most important one for this point, Maths. Now my trouble with the Maths text book is that you used to get given homework like, "Page 74, questions 1 to 6." Doesn't seem pointless until you realise the answers are at the back which is what you check for in every text book as soon as you receive it.
The teacher of course would continue, "Now I know the answers are at the back but I don't want you to cheat. I'll be wanting your working too." Ah shit. Although, not really because as a nation of cheaters, we'd invariably look at the question, look at the answer and try and figure out how the hell it equals that and adjust my working accordingly. Occasionally putting a '?' after the answer I knew to be correct, just to make it look as though I was unsure. Yes, I was a genius child.
But no, the problem I have with text books, and the thing that has been bothering me about them is that someone actually had to write the fucker in the first place. Who the hell writes a text book? How dull do you have to be? Who aspires to write one? Fair enough, if it is Biology then you are at last writing a scientific book of sorts. If it is Maths though, then wow, you are a boring individual. Writing out questions for students, then working them out yourself. "My name is Bob and I write maths text books." Gee, Bob, I bet you're the life and soul of the party.
And who the hells does bob hang out with? Especially when his questions veer away from the mind numbingness of quadratics?
"Hi, I'm Bob."
"Oh hello, my name is Jazuki and this is my friend Nimar. We were just talking about how long it takes us to get to work if we walk 4 miles along a busy road where we are interrupted at 6 intervals for 2 minutes each and our regular speed is 5miles per hour."
"Hmm..."
And so it goes...'Nimar and Jazuki were working out how long it takes them to walk to work.." Who the FUCK does that? And who the hell has the name Jazuki?! Way to be politically correct, Bob.
Yes, Maths was a waste of time but hey! At least I now know how to work out a quadratic equation and I have to say it may well be the MOST useful thing I ever learnt at school. Right up there with knowing all about the Battle of Ypres, just in case I ever plan on invading Belgium. And who the hell would want to do that?
Anyway, what I have been thinking about really, are the text books you received when in your teenage years. Biology, Physics, Chemistry and the most important one for this point, Maths. Now my trouble with the Maths text book is that you used to get given homework like, "Page 74, questions 1 to 6." Doesn't seem pointless until you realise the answers are at the back which is what you check for in every text book as soon as you receive it.
The teacher of course would continue, "Now I know the answers are at the back but I don't want you to cheat. I'll be wanting your working too." Ah shit. Although, not really because as a nation of cheaters, we'd invariably look at the question, look at the answer and try and figure out how the hell it equals that and adjust my working accordingly. Occasionally putting a '?' after the answer I knew to be correct, just to make it look as though I was unsure. Yes, I was a genius child.
But no, the problem I have with text books, and the thing that has been bothering me about them is that someone actually had to write the fucker in the first place. Who the hell writes a text book? How dull do you have to be? Who aspires to write one? Fair enough, if it is Biology then you are at last writing a scientific book of sorts. If it is Maths though, then wow, you are a boring individual. Writing out questions for students, then working them out yourself. "My name is Bob and I write maths text books." Gee, Bob, I bet you're the life and soul of the party.
And who the hells does bob hang out with? Especially when his questions veer away from the mind numbingness of quadratics?
"Hi, I'm Bob."
"Oh hello, my name is Jazuki and this is my friend Nimar. We were just talking about how long it takes us to get to work if we walk 4 miles along a busy road where we are interrupted at 6 intervals for 2 minutes each and our regular speed is 5miles per hour."
"Hmm..."
And so it goes...'Nimar and Jazuki were working out how long it takes them to walk to work.." Who the FUCK does that? And who the hell has the name Jazuki?! Way to be politically correct, Bob.
Yes, Maths was a waste of time but hey! At least I now know how to work out a quadratic equation and I have to say it may well be the MOST useful thing I ever learnt at school. Right up there with knowing all about the Battle of Ypres, just in case I ever plan on invading Belgium. And who the hell would want to do that?
Thursday, 5 November 2009
The X Factor
Well it had to happen eventually. A little discussion on the X Factor. And by discussion of course, I mean me typing a shit load of stuff and you reading it. So more of a Headmaster type discussion than a job interview type discussion.
Anyway, this is about people who seem to have an unnatural interest in the X Factor, which is about 80% of the population, rather than either ignoring the whole thing or simply watching it as a time waster and then forgetting about it ten minutes later. I have adopted both these approaches in the past few years and this year I am in the latter camp. If I miss it, who cares. Who do I want to win? I couldn't care less. Because at the end of the day at least 10 of the 12 acts will end up back where they were before the competition within 2 years.
Some people though, actually vote on this competition. I know a girl who voted 12 times in the final last year. Get this - 8 times for who she wouldn't to win and 4 times for the other act, as she felt sorry for them. What. The. Hell? Others will miss it on Saturday or Sunday and actually avoid the news so they can see it on catch up. If you miss the Saturday show, you have missed some glorified national TV karaoke. If you missed Sunday's show all you need to know is who went out and you have saved yourself an hour of your life.
Anyway, then there is the people who debate the show. "I hate Dave!" "OhmyGod!!! Yeah, and what about those retards The Downs Syndromes?" No, neither of those two acts are in it this year and yes, even I think it would be harsh to make a pop group out of the disabled and call it the Downs Syndromes. If you read that bit and went 'Ha! There isn't a Dave in it!' to yourself, then you have more of a vested interest in the X Factor than is really needed. Who really cares?
Another thing that pisses me off are the fake arguments between the judges. "Oh my God! Why did Cheryl say that about her?!" "Louis was such a dick to him last night." Yes, people. Yes. They are evil. Or... wait a second! Isn't this a TV programme? Which would be really dull if all the judges agreed on every act? It's bizarre they have so many disagreements, even when there is a flawless performance. The best moment so far was in the first week when a girl group was criticised for what they were wearing. they then got voted out by the public. Now...are we really meant to think that they chose their own costumes for the show? Or were they advised by a make-up department? Who were probably advised by a producer of the show what they should wear. Whose name is probably Simon Cowell.
Just a revolutionary idea I had there. But no, it can't be. It's almost like by giving John and Edward the biggest budget every week, Cowell wants them to stay? Because he is getting viewers...But that can't be it because he has said before he wants them off and soon! Well give them fuck all budget then Cowell! It's your bloody show. They won't win by the way, if anyone was getting excited they may do. They'll be voted off either in the show before the final or the final itself. Mark my words. If I get that right by the way, then I'll be deserving of a fucking medal.
Adios, Amigos. Oh and vote...no wait, save money in a recession, fools.
Anyway, this is about people who seem to have an unnatural interest in the X Factor, which is about 80% of the population, rather than either ignoring the whole thing or simply watching it as a time waster and then forgetting about it ten minutes later. I have adopted both these approaches in the past few years and this year I am in the latter camp. If I miss it, who cares. Who do I want to win? I couldn't care less. Because at the end of the day at least 10 of the 12 acts will end up back where they were before the competition within 2 years.
Some people though, actually vote on this competition. I know a girl who voted 12 times in the final last year. Get this - 8 times for who she wouldn't to win and 4 times for the other act, as she felt sorry for them. What. The. Hell? Others will miss it on Saturday or Sunday and actually avoid the news so they can see it on catch up. If you miss the Saturday show, you have missed some glorified national TV karaoke. If you missed Sunday's show all you need to know is who went out and you have saved yourself an hour of your life.
Anyway, then there is the people who debate the show. "I hate Dave!" "OhmyGod!!! Yeah, and what about those retards The Downs Syndromes?" No, neither of those two acts are in it this year and yes, even I think it would be harsh to make a pop group out of the disabled and call it the Downs Syndromes. If you read that bit and went 'Ha! There isn't a Dave in it!' to yourself, then you have more of a vested interest in the X Factor than is really needed. Who really cares?
Another thing that pisses me off are the fake arguments between the judges. "Oh my God! Why did Cheryl say that about her?!" "Louis was such a dick to him last night." Yes, people. Yes. They are evil. Or... wait a second! Isn't this a TV programme? Which would be really dull if all the judges agreed on every act? It's bizarre they have so many disagreements, even when there is a flawless performance. The best moment so far was in the first week when a girl group was criticised for what they were wearing. they then got voted out by the public. Now...are we really meant to think that they chose their own costumes for the show? Or were they advised by a make-up department? Who were probably advised by a producer of the show what they should wear. Whose name is probably Simon Cowell.
Just a revolutionary idea I had there. But no, it can't be. It's almost like by giving John and Edward the biggest budget every week, Cowell wants them to stay? Because he is getting viewers...But that can't be it because he has said before he wants them off and soon! Well give them fuck all budget then Cowell! It's your bloody show. They won't win by the way, if anyone was getting excited they may do. They'll be voted off either in the show before the final or the final itself. Mark my words. If I get that right by the way, then I'll be deserving of a fucking medal.
Adios, Amigos. Oh and vote...no wait, save money in a recession, fools.
Wednesday, 14 October 2009
Autoerotic Asphyxiation
Here's something I was thinking about the other day. I was doing some vague wikipedia-based learning and happened to click on the link for David Carradine, Bill in the Kill Bill films. Presumably you know, but if you don't he died recently from the classic death of autoerotic asphyxiation.
For those of you who don't know, autoerotic asphyxiation is, in the most basic terms, essentially achieving a better orgasm by cutting off the Oxygen supply to the brain. Now, one way men do this, if you wanted to try it out, is by putting a noose round your neck casually, then putting a sliced orange in your mouth, wanking like a monkey at the same time as increasing the pressure against your neck from the noose and THEN, as you are passing out, you bite the orange in your mouth to wake yourself up from this state. Satisfaction achieved!
Now, if this DOESN'T happen. And you find the orange slips from your mouth due to your focusing on the intense masturbation, or if you forget the orange entirely, or you slip from the bed entirely and actually hang yourself for real, then this can cause your death and the worst final image your wife or mother will ever have of you upon returning home with the shopping.
"Hi Dear...WHAT THE FUCK?!"
Now, I don't know about you but I struggle to think of the exact moment and man masturbates and thinks to himself, "You know, this just isn't working for me like I wanted it to." He then WAITS for himself to be home alone, unless you really want to ramp up the danger by doing it in a packed house. Imagine the confusion there!
"Honey what the fuck are you doing?!"
"Ah..I was just...checking the lightbulb, and took off my tie...to...and I did it all whilst eating an orange...naked."
It wouldn't work.
So anyway, these people wait for people to leave before thinking, "Fucking yes! Time for my crazy wank!" Most guys watch porn, bish bash bosh, game over, kill time until people return. But these guys, they kind of notice that they have a free house and think to themselves, "Today, I'm going to go that bit further and fulfil my masturbatory needs." I don't know at what point they think of this method. Do they catch a glimpse of the fruitbowl when feeling amorous? Do they take off their tie after a hard day at work, notice the light, look back to the tie, and rub their chin thoughtfully? I just don't know.
But this does happen! And at first I thought through what they must think before doing it, but then what about the self-hate you send yourself afterwards. Normally, you think, "Oh I shouldn't have done that..I am evil, never again...degrading these women..." and then find yourself in the same position 24 hours later. Now these blokes, they must hang themselves with the tie, cut the orange, put it in the mouth, get naked, ASSUME THE POSITION!, realise you haven't pressed play on the porn video, get down from the bed complete with orange in mouth (trying not to bite!), back to bed, ASSUME THE POSITION!, wank like a gibbon, almost pass out, bite the orange, wake the fuck up, come to ...err...completion...
And then what? You are just hanging there! Naked, limp...the thoughts that must run through your mind at that moment. How feeble and vulnerable must you feel? Then your phone might vibrate.
"Hello? Oh Hi Mum...Yer I'm a bit busy at the moment..."
So, next time your flatmate or wife or girlfriend is wondering what to do with their leftover fruit in the fruitbowl...just have a think.
For those of you who don't know, autoerotic asphyxiation is, in the most basic terms, essentially achieving a better orgasm by cutting off the Oxygen supply to the brain. Now, one way men do this, if you wanted to try it out, is by putting a noose round your neck casually, then putting a sliced orange in your mouth, wanking like a monkey at the same time as increasing the pressure against your neck from the noose and THEN, as you are passing out, you bite the orange in your mouth to wake yourself up from this state. Satisfaction achieved!
Now, if this DOESN'T happen. And you find the orange slips from your mouth due to your focusing on the intense masturbation, or if you forget the orange entirely, or you slip from the bed entirely and actually hang yourself for real, then this can cause your death and the worst final image your wife or mother will ever have of you upon returning home with the shopping.
"Hi Dear...WHAT THE FUCK?!"
Now, I don't know about you but I struggle to think of the exact moment and man masturbates and thinks to himself, "You know, this just isn't working for me like I wanted it to." He then WAITS for himself to be home alone, unless you really want to ramp up the danger by doing it in a packed house. Imagine the confusion there!
"Honey what the fuck are you doing?!"
"Ah..I was just...checking the lightbulb, and took off my tie...to...and I did it all whilst eating an orange...naked."
It wouldn't work.
So anyway, these people wait for people to leave before thinking, "Fucking yes! Time for my crazy wank!" Most guys watch porn, bish bash bosh, game over, kill time until people return. But these guys, they kind of notice that they have a free house and think to themselves, "Today, I'm going to go that bit further and fulfil my masturbatory needs." I don't know at what point they think of this method. Do they catch a glimpse of the fruitbowl when feeling amorous? Do they take off their tie after a hard day at work, notice the light, look back to the tie, and rub their chin thoughtfully? I just don't know.
But this does happen! And at first I thought through what they must think before doing it, but then what about the self-hate you send yourself afterwards. Normally, you think, "Oh I shouldn't have done that..I am evil, never again...degrading these women..." and then find yourself in the same position 24 hours later. Now these blokes, they must hang themselves with the tie, cut the orange, put it in the mouth, get naked, ASSUME THE POSITION!, realise you haven't pressed play on the porn video, get down from the bed complete with orange in mouth (trying not to bite!), back to bed, ASSUME THE POSITION!, wank like a gibbon, almost pass out, bite the orange, wake the fuck up, come to ...err...completion...
And then what? You are just hanging there! Naked, limp...the thoughts that must run through your mind at that moment. How feeble and vulnerable must you feel? Then your phone might vibrate.
"Hello? Oh Hi Mum...Yer I'm a bit busy at the moment..."
So, next time your flatmate or wife or girlfriend is wondering what to do with their leftover fruit in the fruitbowl...just have a think.
Thursday, 16 July 2009
Tickets and Tours
I don't know about you, but it really annoys me when yu visit a band or comedian's website and their tour dates proudly proclaim that they are 'Coming soon to a town near you!'. I have two problems with this. firstly, London isn't a town and secondly, it's nowhere near me.
On the odd occasion a tour does come nearby, you get shafted for tickets anyway. Who knows what a booking fee is really for? YOu never pay it if you buy from the venue in person, but for booking over the internet it seems you pay 2 quid for the computer to save the fact yu are going. Which you probably put in motion by booking it yourself.
now the booking fee has been around for a while, and sometimes it rounds off the price nicely - 13 up to 15, 18 up to 20, etc. But then you click to the next page and there is a handling charge. A what? Yes, a handling charge. You get charged for someone pressing print and handling the tickets into an envelope. 2 quid! For that! It's clearly their bloody job to do that. It's expected. What if there was a handling charge in a supermarket?
"Yeah, I served you today, that's 2 quid on top of what you should pay..."
On the odd occasion a tour does come nearby, you get shafted for tickets anyway. Who knows what a booking fee is really for? YOu never pay it if you buy from the venue in person, but for booking over the internet it seems you pay 2 quid for the computer to save the fact yu are going. Which you probably put in motion by booking it yourself.
now the booking fee has been around for a while, and sometimes it rounds off the price nicely - 13 up to 15, 18 up to 20, etc. But then you click to the next page and there is a handling charge. A what? Yes, a handling charge. You get charged for someone pressing print and handling the tickets into an envelope. 2 quid! For that! It's clearly their bloody job to do that. It's expected. What if there was a handling charge in a supermarket?
"Yeah, I served you today, that's 2 quid on top of what you should pay..."
Tuesday, 26 May 2009
Hospitalized
A while back I wrote a film outline for the brilliant Patrick Swayze. It was written for no other reason than my own entertainment. I am currently writing the third. For now though, for you if anyone is reading this...I give you Hospitalized, the first of a trilogy of awesome action films starring Swayze and the action man fan favourite, Hugh Grant.
Hospitalized
Hugh Grant plays Timothy Bottomley, an upper class English toff. So that’s Hugh Grant basically playing himself.
Hospitalized
Hugh Grant plays Timothy Bottomley, an upper class English toff. So that’s Hugh Grant basically playing himself.
He tries to chat up the pretty blonde receptionist at the hospital. Damn he likes her. He is just about to get in the lift when ahhhh crap! In a scene that could be described as the most shocking ever seen, the Russians start bombing the hospital. Machine gunning the windows and generally blowing shit up.
Hugh Grant sees that the receptionist is essentially, fucked. So he runs out grabs her, mumbles ‘come with me’ and leads her to the lift. He presses for the top floor and up they go. They hold a discussion as they go up. It’s not important to be honest and has nothing to do with the plot except to suggest they may get together at the end. They won’t. Do not be fooled. They’ll confess their love for each other about 75 minutes in and then she will die.
They get to the top of the hospital building.. Up here! She says. They go up the stairs and find themselves on the roof of the hospital building. They look down and see that loads of army men are surrounding the building. A megaphone from the Russians states that any patients must be killed or give themselves up now. Evil laugh since he knows many are bed ridden. Hugh looks a bit queasy. They are unsure what to do next when a shout comes from behind them. ‘Psst’. They turn around. Patrick Swayze is standing there and tells them he owns the hospital. The receptionist confirms this by saying ‘Mr Ballamatron’. Zoom out on hospital. ‘Ballamatron Hospital’ is written on the building.
The threesome talk about a strategy. Swayze talks about the many secret passages he has put in the hospital knowing that one day the Russians would come for him. ‘Why?’ ‘We haven’t got time’ says Swayze. And flashes a toothy grin. He leads them to an emergency staircase and they run down it into a ward. Swayze lifts a carpet and reveals a trapdoor. They all go down into the room. The room is full of weapons and Grant demands answers. He bumbles a bit because this is Hugh Grant we are talking about. The woman talks for the firs time in a while. ‘It’s alright’ she says ‘ He’s from Memphis’. This answer is acceptable. It gets a laugh from everyone in the room. Swayze says they must act fast but states that this secret room is completely fool proof and that nobody will get in. However it comes at a cost; the longer they stay in the room, the more people will die and eventually, the Russians will get what they came for. Hugh Grant states they must act fast then. Swayze agrees. So does the woman. They arm themselves and prepare to fight. They each agree that they will work together to take the top floor and slowly work their way back down.
They exit the secret room via a tunnel, this tunnel comes out at a fake vending machine. Swayze states he must eat some. ‘Why?’ Says Grant. ‘Because death gives me a sweet tooth’ replies Swayze. He smiles. All is good. Just as Swayze is putting cash in the vending machine a guard rounds the corner. Grant pushes Swayze to the floor and pulls the woman behind the vending machine. He quickly fires his submachine gun and takes down the guard. ‘I owe you one’ says Swayze. ‘Don’t worry about it’ says Grant. ‘No I will, we’re even now though’ says Swayze as he places one M&M into his hand. ‘I think you owe me one too’ says the secretary provocatively with the glint in her eye that screams out ‘slut’. Hugh misses the point so hands her the M&M and rushes off telling Swayze and the girl he has an idea.
He comes back moments later with doctor’s uniforms. They put them on then proceed around the floor killing 3 more guards. Fortunately, one of the Russians was a female so they swap the doctor costumes for the Russian ones. They head back to the room for more ammo. They come back and find 4 more guards on the top floor. They take them out. They head downstairs and meet two more guards. Bang fucking bang! Two more down. Another has heard the commotion though and grabs the girl. She beats the shit out of him and they advance. ‘Where did you learn to kick like that?’ asks Grant. ‘I’ve had lots of boyfriends’ she says. Brilliant. If you were unsure before, you now definitely know she is a slut.
‘Come in Yuri’ goes the radio. Swayze picks up the radio and speaks perfect Russian back. Grant and lady are confused. How does he know Russian? ‘Cold War’ states Swayze when he sees their glances. They aren’t convinced. He leads them to another tunnel in a surgeons ward (in the cupboards.) Yet more weapons await them. They arm themselves again. Grant does the ammo for each person’s weapon. The lights flicker for no real reason – the secretary links this to the Russians accessing the computer systems. This is a problem. The computer system, if hacked correctly (and trust me, it will be), can bring up where the secret locations are. Can the secretary stop them? Obviously she can. Lucky they have her. Apparently, the computers are kept in Swayze’s office on the floor below. As Swayze guides them to his office, he also takes more radios from the secret base. He pretends he is many different Russian’s across the top 3 floors. Brilliant.
They take out a few more guards including a fight where Grant flies through the air and uses two pistols to shoot two different people dead. One unfortunately was a civilian casualty. Grant is upset but keeps his bottom lip quiver to a minimum. The lights flicker again. ‘They may have got through’ says the secretary. They rush to the office. Nobody is there. The lady taps away and states that she has successfully deleted the data. ‘Yes!’ they all cry. By now, Grant is low on bullets and asks to visit that floor’s hidden room. There are two apparently. They agree that going to just one is a good idea. On the way they try a payphone. ‘Out’ says the secretary. None have a mobile on them because it’s a hospital. Clever, eh?
Swayze then states that one hidden room is ‘in there’ but runs past it. The other two stop. Grant asks why they don’t go in it. ‘It hasn’t been stocked recently’ states Swayze. They run on to the next room. Another surgery room. They open the cupboards and three Russians jump out. Grant deals with them then accuses Swayze of leading them to that room to get killed. He set them up! Swayze protests his innocence but Grant doesn’t listen They have a fistfight and it ends with Grant using the heart attack pads on Swayze’s chest knocking him out. This is a clever reverse reference to Bean: The Ultimate Disaster Movie. ‘C’mon’ says Grant and they enter the secret hideout.
Inside they realise they haven’t got much time but this does not stop them sharing a very passionate kiss before reloading. ‘I can’t wait to see your gun’ says the Secretary. Slut. ‘Which one?’ says Hugh. He shows her the 3 guns on him. ‘The one in your trousers’ she states. ‘Oh the pistol.’ He withdraws this too. ‘Anyway c’mon!’ They rush off out of another tunnel. They come across some other Russians discussing some stuff. They run down some stairs but stop before hitting the floor. They are now on floor 5. This is not relevant really. They hear that the Russians are trying to get through to Yuri and his cronies. No response because Swayze is down! Ah! Madness! They curse their stupidity. What are the Russians after though? Well Hugh asks that to the secretary right after they take down the second in command on the fifth floor and annihilate the others around him. The whole idea that there is 4 guards a floor is preposterous but this is a film. Anyway, the woman says that she saved all the folders onto a memory stick before deleting crap for Swayze. They run to a computer, which happens to be in the next room and find out. Swayze has hoarded most of the Russian armies weapons since the cold war. And now they want them back. This explains the weapons rooms and also explains the random nukes that you would have seen in the weapons room. Grant probably references it within he first half hour but you forget because of the action and Swayze’s kick ass attitude.
The two decide they must get out and continue fighting to the different floors. They get to ground level and almost get to reception but they are faced with a huge array of Russian army men. He congratulates them on doing so well against his men. And then personally thanks the secretary for bringing Hugh Grant to him. ‘What?’ says Hugh Grant. Yep, the bitch was a Russian spy all along and had been working against Swayze for the past 6 months. After this display of shell shock on Hugh’s face, the Russian leader states they must bring it to an end. As now ‘I must kill you’. ‘This is a hello from Russia’ says the General as the woman goes and stands with him. Pause. He lifts the gun. ‘AND THIS IS A GOODBYE FROM MEMPHIS!’ scream Swayze. He bursts in, shouts to Hugh to jump and a rocket is fired. Kaboom! It blows up and kills most of the Russians. But the bitch is still alive. She aims at Swayze. A shot is fired and she falls down dead. ‘Like the feel of my gun, bitch?’ says Hugh Grant. The two relax. All is good with the world.
The End.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)