Optimism Vaccine paid me ten-bucks-hard-cash to go see the Texas Chainsaw 3D. The cheap bastards refused to compensate me for the additional liquor and therapy bills that piled up shortly after, but, hey, they paid for those tickets, so that was thoughtful.
I had a rotten time at this godforsaken movie, and apparently I no longer have a proper understanding of all three dimensions. The ungrateful children that they employ at my movie house tried to push clear lens glasses on me as I attempted to stagger past the ticket booth. I screamed at them for a pair of real three-dimensional movie-going glasses, but they refused to oblige. Fortunately, I always carry anywhere from three to six extra pairs of real red-and-blue lensed, cardboard rimmed, All-American, three-dimensional movie-going glasses in the right-hand inner pocket of my smoking jacket. Just for shits, I decided to put on two of the pairs at once. I stopped by the restroom before the picture was scheduled to begin to mix up my traditional “Three Parts Blue Slushy to Nine Parts Courvoisier Back Alley Special”. For good measure, I then took a stunning three-dimensional piss that looked as if it was spraying right at me! I was ready now, and proceeded into the theater to find a seat.
There was only one other person in the theater, so I sat down in the seat in front of them and began eating the chewy salt water taffies I had found in the parking lot earlier that morning.
The movie started to play, and my vintage three-dimensional moving-going glasses immediately burst into flames. Apparently, new three-dimensional movies are no longer compatible with the vintage brand of glasses. The cheap blue and red lenses melted into my lap, ruining my candy, and my eyes were left scabby and scorched. I sat there and moaned like a downtrodden gorilla. I rubbed at my eyes, but could no longer tell if my vision was shot, or if it was the way a three-dimensional movie looks without glasses. But though my vision was unclear, there was one fact that was: I would need to rely on my keen sense of sound for the remainder of the movie film.
There was a story line that had to do with unpaid parking tickets, lumberjacks, a family band, buddy cops, vacation destinations, and repressed memories. Mostly there was screaming… constant screaming.
It’s not that screaming bothers me; in fact, I partake in it in almost every single conversation, every single day. It’s just that being murdered doesn’t call for screaming; so much as it calls for a complete loss of bowel control. Murderers hate shitty victims, and I should know. But typical “Hollywood” presents us all, yet again, with an unrealistic image of how we should handle our stress.
From what I heard of the movie film, I’d have to say that it was one of the most original concepts ever written down. Granted, I had to leave the movie 47 minutes early due to having ingested some salt water taffy that was infused with blue and red three-dimensional glass, but still, I was just plain aghast at the overwhelming originality! The fact that it is a three-dimensional movie film in the first place indicates how truly creative and worthwhile the project must be to have been presented with a whole extra dimension.