Chicago's the greatest

Chicago's the greatest

Thursday, November 17, 2011

My Big Sheaf of Movie Beef!

My Big sheaf of Movie Beef!
By Jon Slone

Beef number 1.

Have you noticed how, in the movies, people almost never eat! And if patrons are dinning out, well then, it’s even worse. Allow me to succinctly paint the picture:

In any given movie we see the man or woman place their Lasagna order; the food arrives in all of its plump and succulent grandeur and then what happens? The famished person is, without exception, suddenly usurped or called away or blown up or rushed out or unexpectedly remembers that for some nonsensical reason he or she must stand up, drop a few presidential flashcards and bolt like Usain.

Beef number 2.

People never lock their doors in the movies.

The story line could be about a blood-thirsty scientist cloning tens of thousands of monsters that look like a cross between Hammerhead from Star Wars and the fang-happy critter from Predator. And, to boot, the only thing this miscreation can eat to sustain itself is little girls. Still, with all of this information unfurled and made painfully clear, the pregnant and single Mother of six (All girls of course) will forge ahead within the murky bowels of her desolate apartment leaving her door slightly cracked and all seven of its strapping locks unemployed. Straightaway the Mom is rendered kaput and the seven wee lasses become a late night meximelt snack. That is until the monster gets a call on his cell, and for no good reason to speak of, abruptly darts away.

You didn’t think he was gonna eat the little girls did you? Don’t you remember; people don’t eat in the movies, cello!

It would seem that some humans or Hammerheads just never touch a lock or Lasagna or a lunch that looks like a wee small lass.

Beef number 3.

In the movies, people drop stuff all the time.

Every time a woman hears bad news over the phone, it just so happens that she’s holding something breakable, namely a glass of orange juice. We first hear the bad news or rather we watch it play out across the woman’s horrified face. And then the slow motion close up takes center stage…and we gawk for ten long seconds as the trembling decanter slips from her weakened grip and proffers a brilliant and mucilaginous demise upon the kitchen floor.

This you’ll never hear:

Bill: Hey Bob, I got really bad news.
Bob: What is it Bill?
Bill: First Bob, I just gotta know, are you holding anything?
Bob: Why yes Bill, you know I always answer the phone barefooted brandishing a glass of orange juice.
Bill: Bob, it’s best if you go on and sit the glass down.
Bob: Will do Bill.
Bill: Bob?
Bob: Bill?
Bill: Bob, the Doobie Brothers just broke up.
(A deafening scream explodes within Bill’s rotary phone receiver.)
Bob: This isn’t right Bill!
Bill: I know Bob, I was a big fan of ‘Black Water’ too.
Bob: No Bill!
Bill: Uh,…'Jesus is just alright?’
Bob: No Bill, it’s not the music or the band at all.
Bill: Then what Bob, what is it?
Bob: I feel like I should let go of something Bill.
Bill: I don’t follow you Bob, you mean like, tears?
Bob: No Bill, I got it! Could we do this again with me holding the orange juice?
Bill: Hold on Bob, I just dropped the receiver.

Get it right people!

Eat your grub, lock your doors and stay off the phone!

Jon empty-plate Slone

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