I had just finished building a house of cards when my telephone rang and destroyed an afternoon’s worth of work. It was Amos Stalin himself, calling from the Optimism Vaccine headquarters office building. He asked how soon I could depart to watch a movie film about a mechanical super hero man, and write down things about what I saw. I told him, “Around two days.” He said that would be good enough, and then he hung up. Just like that, he hung up. Didn’t ask me about my sick Grammama, or how I was doing, or anything. To be fair though, I can’t image the stress he must be under every day, what with having to manage a trivial, disorganized movie film review website.
Two days later, I woke up with ambition and cold sores, looking forward to taking in yet another blockbuster movie film. To secure transportation to the movie film theater and once again assert my dominance in the neighborhood, I savagely beat my neighbor with a crowbar and made off with his motorcycle. The wind felt invigorating against my beard.
I stopped off at my local hobby shop store to purchase a 1/32nd scale model of the very iron man I was about to go look at in the movie film (I tend to prefer sculpting replicas of influential movie film characters so that I may interact with the story whilst I watch).
I arrived at the movie film theatre 73 minutes before the screening was scheduled to begin. I took a seat at the back of the theatre, and began to snap apart the plastic pieces that would become my very own iron man statue. I had a bit of trouble with the lid on the industrial glue, and ended up spilling a copious amount of the potent adhesive down the front of my shirt. The smell of the glue burned at my eyes and choked my lungs. I began taking panicked breaths and thrashing in my seat, which resulted in inhaling even greater quantities of the toxic fumes.
Remembering my cub scout training, I forced my body to hold very still, and slowly regained my composure. I realized in my fit of horror, whilst throwing my arms wildly around in the air, that they had come to an unfortunate resting position, intertwined in my industrial glue saturated beard. On the bright side, I was stuck in an effective blocking position for street fighting; on the dark side, I could not lower my arms without tearing off my face.
I flailed around and tried to reach my iron man model pieces, but sadly, knocked them to the floor. I listened to them roll below the seats ahead of me, all the way down to the front of the movie film theater. I sighed, and then noticed through the gaps between my immobile arms that, for the last hour and a half, the movie film had featured a single cackling dolphin with wild eyes, children’s arms in place of fins, and a predilection for automotive repair.
Was it possible I had attended the aquarium instead of the movie film theater? Could it have been the inhalation of industrial model glue that had resulted in the adverse effects in my perception of reality? It was impossible to say for sure. As soon as the dolphin had turned its back, I ran like a crazed ape with his arms glued to his face for an exit.
I’ve witnessed many movie films about mechanical super hero men. Many of them, but this one, this was truly one of them.