(no subject)
Mar. 15th, 2005 09:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsosHere we go, with another chapter of the classic disaster movie (*coughchokecough*) Deadly Harvest, otherwise known as Well, Kim Cattrall And Geraint Wyn Davies Had To Start Acting Somewhere. Enjoy. (Oh, and here are parts one, two, and three.) ;)
And it's time for the Wedding of Dooooooom, as everybody brings loaves of bread and apples and Jesus, that food's going to last about five minutes. This is two people. Bring some Chef Boyardee in a can, for crying out loud. Some of this food actually has to last, you know. Sheesh. People crowd into the pews, and if any of them are wearing something remotely resembling a bright color, I wouldn't know. Stupid '70s film. Well, at least they're all equally badly dressed in the eyes of the Lord.
Dad stands up to say a few words. I'm betting some of those people are really hoping thos words are, "I've ordered deep-dish for everybody." Dad decides to dampen the hell out of the good mood by telling everybody about Charles and Gleeful Dad showing up and telling him the government's run out of food. You know, I'd really like it if someone would tell me why they're running out of food. Weather straight out of The Day After Tomorrow? Veggies terrified of the awful color schemes the farmers were wearing that ran away from home in the night? Pop-Tart gnomes? What?!
Some yahoo in the audience says that hey, that's not what we're being told on the radio. And boy, if you believe everything you hear on the radio, have I got a radio show for you? It's called the O'Reilly Factor. Dad says that the radio is full of shit. Somewhere, Bill O'Reilly starts a massive smear campaign against Dad's mustache. He says they'll all be good for a while, but what if we have another bad harvest like last year. Wait, this is the result of one bad harvest? What, did that one bad harvest depress everyone on the planet into binging on Twinkies and spray cheese?
But that's okay, because Dad has an idea. And I'm sorry I'm about to have to say this, but if they had such a crappy harvest and their only option is hydroponics, then Dad is smart and the government is run by morons. (Note: I'm sorry about the Dad part, not the morons in the government part.) Dad tells everybody to hang out after the wedding and everybody will have a great big talk. Oh, lovely. Remember, folks, these nitwits are going to get shaken down for their Cheetos in a minute.
So then Kim Cattrall and Dorky Fiance stand up in front of the reverend, and he starts the ceremony, and while he talks, we see a pickup truck driving down a road. Wait, why did a Ford commercial suddenly cut into my movie, damn it? Oh, hell, it's the world's crappiest hunters again, and just for added enjoyment, off to the side of the road is Wilcox's other flunkie. You know, these roadblocks haven't turned out well so far. You'd think Wilcox would send Geraint Wyn Davies and John Deere off to Remedial Roadblock School.
The World's Crappiest Hunters pull up to the Roadblock, and the leader gets out and bullshits some story about going to Kim Cattrall's wedding and bringing her some food. Jesus, is this chick the only person on the planet who has food today? Can't one of these cheesy villains find out there's a guy in the next town hoarding a gigantic mountain of Fruity Pebbles or something? John Deere (who's now wearing a dorky wool cap, which ... eh, whatever) gives them directions, then spots other guys in the van and changes his mind about letting them go. So the leader's second-in-command, who's just been kind of hanging around, takes out a wooden club and whacks him one over the head.
Meanwhile, off at the church, Dorky Fiance is saying his vows and sheesh, he's just as wimpy as the day is long, isn't he? And outside, the World's Crappiest Hunters arrive. Aaaaaand off at the roadblock, Wilcox and Geraint Wyn Davies arrive. Yeah, perfect timing, asshats. John Deere says he got whacked over the head by some city guys who were heading to the wedding. In case you haven't noticed yet, what you're supposed to learn from this film is, "City people suck rocks through a tube."
Back outside the church, the leader of the World's Crappiest Hunters is telling his flunkies, "Remember, this is a church. No shooting. Nobody gets hurt." Somewhere off in the land of Disembodied Literary Devices, Foreshadowing smacks its disembodied forehead in annoyance. So they creep into the church, where Kim Cattrall is giving her vows in a veil made partly out of a nurse's cap. And then she and Dorky Fiance kiss. Awwww. Love during the age of mass starvation.
Then the World's Crappiest Hunters quietly and politely barge into the church and order everyone to stay where they are. Wool Hat whines to Dad that they're the schmucks who stole Trick Cow. The leader asks for Dad specifically, then says he doesn't want any trouble before announcing they're just taking the food. Oh, fuck you, Pudgy Leader. So they go to raid the table full of food, and of course, Dorky Fiance makes a grab for one of the World's Crappiest Hunters. Dorky Fiance, don't be a hero! Don't be a fool with your life! Not surprisingly, this results in him getting whacked upside the head. Don't these people have another, gentler way of putting down their victims? Like, maybe, sleeping pills or reading them some poetry out loud?
As they make a run for it with the food out the front of the church, Wilcox and his mini-posse arrive, now it's time for a shoot-out! In which you won't be seeing anyone getting shot, by the way, because the director spent all of the money for squibs on bad synthesizer music. Outside, nobody's hitting anything. Inside, Dorky Fiance's head is covered in strawberry jam ... wait, is that supposed to be blood? Uh, I don't think blood is supposed to be chunky.
And back outside, where we're continuing on that theme of everybody just randomly shooting in the air and not bothering to aim at shit. Just to give you an example of how incredibly awful everybody's lack of aim really is, Geraint Wyn Davies pretty much holds his gun over the hood of his pickup, lets go, and then pulls the trigger. So you won't be surprised to find out that the only person he hits? Is Mom, right through the window of the church. Oh, no! And he hit her right in the chest, too. Oh, that strawberry jam's not coming out of that dress anytime soon. Sort of like Mom. (*rimshot*)
Back in the back of the church, Dorky Fiance is just bleeding all over the goddamn place. Well, hell, Kim Cattrall, you're wearing a nurse's hat. Patch the bastard up. Dorky Fiance is rambling, telling Kim Cattrall not to cry in that dizzy way that indicates we're going to be a mom short and a dorky fiance short in a minute. That's too bad, 'cause dorky fiances are hard to come by.
Meanwhile, in the Hall of Justice ... er, in the van of the World's Crappiest Hunters, Pudgy Leader bitches that "those hicks think they're cowboys." Uh, they kind of are, jackass. Shut up. Somebody in the back of the van screams, and hey, did Wilcox and his mini-posse hit someone on the other side of the firefight? Nah, it's more likely the screaming guy in question was just flailing his gun in the air, it discharged, and the bullet fell back down from the sky and hit him.
In the church, everybody else is getting up from the pews they were hiding in. Sure, now you get up. Let the wedding party be shot full of holes and leak strawberry jam all over the place. Just you wait, 'cause Dad's going to make you lick that strawberry jam off the floor in a second. Dad whimpers that Mom's dead while Geraint Wyn Davies and the rest of the posse gleefully bound in the church all, "Well, I guess those stupid food thieves won't be back to lick strawberry jam off the church floor." That is, until they spot Mom lying on the floor all chock full o' rigor. Geraint Wyn Davies's ANGSTANDWOE races back from the bar it was guzzling margaritas in and leaps at his head, grabbing at it and settling in like a facehugger.
Wilcox tries to apologize, barely able to talk past the bullshit in his mouth. "You get out of here, Wilcox," Dad says, "or so help me God, I'll kill you." Wilcox leaves with his other flunkie. Wait, Wilcox! Don't go! Dad hasn't carried out his vengeful threat yet! Geraint Wyn Davies takes about ten minutes to kneel at Dad's side, then says a couple of mournful "Dad?"s before Dad winces and turns even further away from him. Leave my sight, Geraint Wyn Davies, for you are a weenie whose ANGSTANDWOE facehugger is frightening me.
In the back of the church, Dorky Fiance is still waiting to bleed to death. Is this going to happen anytime today? I have to go to work soon, you know. Oh, wait, there he goes. *waves* Goodbye, Dorky Fiance! You weren't the prettiest person on the planet, but you were willing to fight a guy to the death over some marmalade, and really, that makes you special. Though in the "might have had superpowers" way or the "rides to school in a short bus" way, we'll never know.
And then it's off to a field in the middle of nowhere to bury Mom and Dorky Fiance. Apparently, there's only about five people there, which I would bitch about if it weren't for the fact that, well, look how their last large gathering turned out. Kim Cattrall stands there in a daze, and who can blame her? Geraint Wyn Davies shows up to simper an apology and show Dad a map drawn by Charles that the World's Crappiest Hunters left behind. Wait, those were Creepy Guy's food-robbing flunkies? Why didn't they say so? I've been expecting a team of Mafia hitmen to show up looking for breadsticks and be bitterly disappointed when there were none to be had.
Next up: Dad takes a car ride into the city. The mustache drives.
Note: I ended it before the end of the chapter, but I need to go to Suncoast to pick up my copy of The Incredibles. Wheeee. :)
And it's time for the Wedding of Dooooooom, as everybody brings loaves of bread and apples and Jesus, that food's going to last about five minutes. This is two people. Bring some Chef Boyardee in a can, for crying out loud. Some of this food actually has to last, you know. Sheesh. People crowd into the pews, and if any of them are wearing something remotely resembling a bright color, I wouldn't know. Stupid '70s film. Well, at least they're all equally badly dressed in the eyes of the Lord.
Dad stands up to say a few words. I'm betting some of those people are really hoping thos words are, "I've ordered deep-dish for everybody." Dad decides to dampen the hell out of the good mood by telling everybody about Charles and Gleeful Dad showing up and telling him the government's run out of food. You know, I'd really like it if someone would tell me why they're running out of food. Weather straight out of The Day After Tomorrow? Veggies terrified of the awful color schemes the farmers were wearing that ran away from home in the night? Pop-Tart gnomes? What?!
Some yahoo in the audience says that hey, that's not what we're being told on the radio. And boy, if you believe everything you hear on the radio, have I got a radio show for you? It's called the O'Reilly Factor. Dad says that the radio is full of shit. Somewhere, Bill O'Reilly starts a massive smear campaign against Dad's mustache. He says they'll all be good for a while, but what if we have another bad harvest like last year. Wait, this is the result of one bad harvest? What, did that one bad harvest depress everyone on the planet into binging on Twinkies and spray cheese?
But that's okay, because Dad has an idea. And I'm sorry I'm about to have to say this, but if they had such a crappy harvest and their only option is hydroponics, then Dad is smart and the government is run by morons. (Note: I'm sorry about the Dad part, not the morons in the government part.) Dad tells everybody to hang out after the wedding and everybody will have a great big talk. Oh, lovely. Remember, folks, these nitwits are going to get shaken down for their Cheetos in a minute.
So then Kim Cattrall and Dorky Fiance stand up in front of the reverend, and he starts the ceremony, and while he talks, we see a pickup truck driving down a road. Wait, why did a Ford commercial suddenly cut into my movie, damn it? Oh, hell, it's the world's crappiest hunters again, and just for added enjoyment, off to the side of the road is Wilcox's other flunkie. You know, these roadblocks haven't turned out well so far. You'd think Wilcox would send Geraint Wyn Davies and John Deere off to Remedial Roadblock School.
The World's Crappiest Hunters pull up to the Roadblock, and the leader gets out and bullshits some story about going to Kim Cattrall's wedding and bringing her some food. Jesus, is this chick the only person on the planet who has food today? Can't one of these cheesy villains find out there's a guy in the next town hoarding a gigantic mountain of Fruity Pebbles or something? John Deere (who's now wearing a dorky wool cap, which ... eh, whatever) gives them directions, then spots other guys in the van and changes his mind about letting them go. So the leader's second-in-command, who's just been kind of hanging around, takes out a wooden club and whacks him one over the head.
Meanwhile, off at the church, Dorky Fiance is saying his vows and sheesh, he's just as wimpy as the day is long, isn't he? And outside, the World's Crappiest Hunters arrive. Aaaaaand off at the roadblock, Wilcox and Geraint Wyn Davies arrive. Yeah, perfect timing, asshats. John Deere says he got whacked over the head by some city guys who were heading to the wedding. In case you haven't noticed yet, what you're supposed to learn from this film is, "City people suck rocks through a tube."
Back outside the church, the leader of the World's Crappiest Hunters is telling his flunkies, "Remember, this is a church. No shooting. Nobody gets hurt." Somewhere off in the land of Disembodied Literary Devices, Foreshadowing smacks its disembodied forehead in annoyance. So they creep into the church, where Kim Cattrall is giving her vows in a veil made partly out of a nurse's cap. And then she and Dorky Fiance kiss. Awwww. Love during the age of mass starvation.
Then the World's Crappiest Hunters quietly and politely barge into the church and order everyone to stay where they are. Wool Hat whines to Dad that they're the schmucks who stole Trick Cow. The leader asks for Dad specifically, then says he doesn't want any trouble before announcing they're just taking the food. Oh, fuck you, Pudgy Leader. So they go to raid the table full of food, and of course, Dorky Fiance makes a grab for one of the World's Crappiest Hunters. Dorky Fiance, don't be a hero! Don't be a fool with your life! Not surprisingly, this results in him getting whacked upside the head. Don't these people have another, gentler way of putting down their victims? Like, maybe, sleeping pills or reading them some poetry out loud?
As they make a run for it with the food out the front of the church, Wilcox and his mini-posse arrive, now it's time for a shoot-out! In which you won't be seeing anyone getting shot, by the way, because the director spent all of the money for squibs on bad synthesizer music. Outside, nobody's hitting anything. Inside, Dorky Fiance's head is covered in strawberry jam ... wait, is that supposed to be blood? Uh, I don't think blood is supposed to be chunky.
And back outside, where we're continuing on that theme of everybody just randomly shooting in the air and not bothering to aim at shit. Just to give you an example of how incredibly awful everybody's lack of aim really is, Geraint Wyn Davies pretty much holds his gun over the hood of his pickup, lets go, and then pulls the trigger. So you won't be surprised to find out that the only person he hits? Is Mom, right through the window of the church. Oh, no! And he hit her right in the chest, too. Oh, that strawberry jam's not coming out of that dress anytime soon. Sort of like Mom. (*rimshot*)
Back in the back of the church, Dorky Fiance is just bleeding all over the goddamn place. Well, hell, Kim Cattrall, you're wearing a nurse's hat. Patch the bastard up. Dorky Fiance is rambling, telling Kim Cattrall not to cry in that dizzy way that indicates we're going to be a mom short and a dorky fiance short in a minute. That's too bad, 'cause dorky fiances are hard to come by.
Meanwhile, in the Hall of Justice ... er, in the van of the World's Crappiest Hunters, Pudgy Leader bitches that "those hicks think they're cowboys." Uh, they kind of are, jackass. Shut up. Somebody in the back of the van screams, and hey, did Wilcox and his mini-posse hit someone on the other side of the firefight? Nah, it's more likely the screaming guy in question was just flailing his gun in the air, it discharged, and the bullet fell back down from the sky and hit him.
In the church, everybody else is getting up from the pews they were hiding in. Sure, now you get up. Let the wedding party be shot full of holes and leak strawberry jam all over the place. Just you wait, 'cause Dad's going to make you lick that strawberry jam off the floor in a second. Dad whimpers that Mom's dead while Geraint Wyn Davies and the rest of the posse gleefully bound in the church all, "Well, I guess those stupid food thieves won't be back to lick strawberry jam off the church floor." That is, until they spot Mom lying on the floor all chock full o' rigor. Geraint Wyn Davies's ANGSTANDWOE races back from the bar it was guzzling margaritas in and leaps at his head, grabbing at it and settling in like a facehugger.
Wilcox tries to apologize, barely able to talk past the bullshit in his mouth. "You get out of here, Wilcox," Dad says, "or so help me God, I'll kill you." Wilcox leaves with his other flunkie. Wait, Wilcox! Don't go! Dad hasn't carried out his vengeful threat yet! Geraint Wyn Davies takes about ten minutes to kneel at Dad's side, then says a couple of mournful "Dad?"s before Dad winces and turns even further away from him. Leave my sight, Geraint Wyn Davies, for you are a weenie whose ANGSTANDWOE facehugger is frightening me.
In the back of the church, Dorky Fiance is still waiting to bleed to death. Is this going to happen anytime today? I have to go to work soon, you know. Oh, wait, there he goes. *waves* Goodbye, Dorky Fiance! You weren't the prettiest person on the planet, but you were willing to fight a guy to the death over some marmalade, and really, that makes you special. Though in the "might have had superpowers" way or the "rides to school in a short bus" way, we'll never know.
And then it's off to a field in the middle of nowhere to bury Mom and Dorky Fiance. Apparently, there's only about five people there, which I would bitch about if it weren't for the fact that, well, look how their last large gathering turned out. Kim Cattrall stands there in a daze, and who can blame her? Geraint Wyn Davies shows up to simper an apology and show Dad a map drawn by Charles that the World's Crappiest Hunters left behind. Wait, those were Creepy Guy's food-robbing flunkies? Why didn't they say so? I've been expecting a team of Mafia hitmen to show up looking for breadsticks and be bitterly disappointed when there were none to be had.
Next up: Dad takes a car ride into the city. The mustache drives.
Note: I ended it before the end of the chapter, but I need to go to Suncoast to pick up my copy of The Incredibles. Wheeee. :)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
OT
Date: 2005-03-15 02:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-15 03:02 pm (UTC)We totally need the book Trollprincess' Guide to Movies That Are Complete Unwiped Dog Ass, And Yet, Somehow, Really Kind of Fun, If You're Sufficiently Drunk. :)
I'm so very, very sorry for this...
Date: 2005-03-15 07:25 pm (UTC)If you value your sanity, don't click this.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-16 01:31 am (UTC)According to one of the reviewers on www.imdb.com, "Deadly Harvest was made at a time when the Earth's climate was thought to be cooling due to a sun-blocking shroud of pollution." Hence the snow in August and the slow collapse of civilisation and the mass starvation and the DEEP AND MEANINGFUL SIGNIFICANCE OF IT ALL, for lo, this could be Our Future.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-16 01:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-16 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-16 02:50 pm (UTC)Funny urban legend that turns out to actually be true: In Dallas, there was a Hispanic gentleman a few years back who was firing his gun into the air on the Fourth of July a few years back. He was really drunk or had really bad aim or in all likelihood both and dropped the muzzle of the gun towards the ground on one shot. The bullet struck the ground, ricocheted, and came right back up to hit him in the nuts.
I felt like sharing.