Archive | June, 2013

Madhere: Part Eight

30 Jun

(For parts One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, or Seven, click here.)

Meanwhile, at the Café, things were… degrading rapidly.

“It does not have cobwebs!” screamed Lilah. “My vagina has ladyparts, just like everyone else!”

“Oh please!” scoffed Nina. “We could put up a sign that says ‘this way to nunnery’ and nobody would notice a difference!”

Across the room, Merri leaned over the counter to Joe Washington. “Should we kick them out?”

“Nah.” yawned Joe. “We have catfight insurance, we’ll be fine.”

Merri frowned. “That’s… not a thing?”

Lilah slammed her ice cream down, which would probably have been more impressive if she hadn’t spilt it on herself. “That’s it! I am done with this crappy website and your crappy… crap face!”

Fine! I’m done too! And you suck at insults!” Nina began wheeling away.

Meanwhile, across the city, in the residence of one “Nina O’Brian”, a thought was hatched. An evil, vile, dastardly thought.

And said thought, naturally, belonged to one black cat, with a white spot over one eye and one white ear.

His name… was Shockingly Racist.

*insert dramatic music here*

And, with a yarn ball in one ha- er, “paw” and a fish in the other, Shockingly Racist engaged in an epic campaign of terror, the likes of which would be bemoaned by Miss O’Brian and her revolving door of suitors for generations.

Unfortunately, said “campaign of terror” was restricted entirely to “dismantle a spice rack” and “poop in a cookie jar”. But that didn’t stop Shockingly Racist from gossiping about his “campaign” to all the “hot kitteh bitches”.

(EDITOR’S NOTE: All references to “hot kitteh bitches” belongs entirely to the cat, and is not representative of this editor, this writer, this website, or this internet. Except, of course, for that one really creepy corner of the internet.)

END OF PART EIGHT.

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Madhere: Part Seven

29 Jun

(For parts One, Two, Three, Four, Five or Six, check here.)

Having escaped the hypothetical background radiation of two females attempting to murder each other with their minds, Darren and Todd had to find the nearest safe location, namely one that ran entirely on sugary goodness in case a chocolatey countermeasure was required.

Fortunately, the local ice cream parlour was prepared for just such an occasion.

“So, what’s up with you and Lilah?” asked Todd as he helped himself to a hearty serving of fudge ripple.

“‘Up’? There is nothing ‘up’! I am so down, I’m fuckin’ with the mole people!” Darren rummaged through his wallet, searching for auxiliary ice cream funds.

“You bought her ICE CREAM. You’re wearing a SUIT. If it wasn’t for the fact that I already checked if you bleed acid, I’d swear you’ve been replaced by a doppleganger.” Todd licked his ice cream, in a manner that would surely be erotic if Todd was even slightly erotic.

“Hey, wasn’t you just here?” muttered the ice cream vendor as he handed Darren his Rocky Road. “Gettin’ ice cream with that purty red head? What, did’ya strike out with her and decided to try somethin’ a little more desperate?”

“Oi! I am not THAT desperate!” snapped Todd. “I’m ‘discount hooker’ desperate, not ‘hot gay sex’ desperate!”

“Those are some big words for somebody who specifically chose a career where they’re covered with sticky white stuff all day.” snapped Darren. “Now, feel free to admire my sweet ass as I saunter away, leaving you free to stick an ice cream cone up the ass of your fetid carcass the second you’re done fondling yourself.”

And they did, in fact, saunter away. It was very sassy.

“Okay, so you ARE in there! Threatening and homophobic, that’s the old Darren!” whooped Todd.

“Hey, jerk, I’m not homophobic!”

“I think my mind almost collapsed under the weight of that hypocrisy.”

Darren stared at his ice cream. “That’s not my thing any more!”

“Yeah, ever since you met Lilah, right? Which was… a day ago, actually. You really streamlined the whole ‘personality shift’ thing, huh?”

The two fell silent as they walked.

Todd sighed. “You do realize she’s gay, right?”

“I’m sorry, Todd, I can’t accept that.”

“What, you… can’t accept that people are gay? That is so intensely insane, I may have to stick this cone up your dick hole.”

Darren arched a single eyebrow. “No, I can’t accept a static sexual identity.”

“Oh. I… can’t decide if that’s better or worst.”

“Neither can I, actually.”

“So, you’re hoping her sexual identity is fluid so you can seduce her?”

Darren sighed. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Todd smiled. “Alright, man. Thanks for the ice cream. And don’t worry, I won’t tell her about this. I’m behind you, 100%.”

They continued walking in silence, finishing off their ice cream.

“You do realize this is going to explode in your face, right?”

“Oh, yeah, totally.”

END OF PART SEVEN.

Daily Riffed 5: It’s Like A Kind Of Torture To Have To Watch This Show

28 Jun

Let’s try something new, everybody: Making fun of somebody who doesn’t deserve it!

I know, I know, it’s such a radical new direction!

To be specific, I’m mocking those Daily Prompts that WordPress supplies to writers who can’t think of something to write. And apparently I enjoy making fun of people who are just trying to help and I’m all alone and nobody likes me and OH GOD, DEBBIE! I MISS YOU!

Yeah, I’ve been drinking. So what?

Tell us a moment or an incident that you treasure  – not necessarily because it brought you happiness, but because it taught you something about yourself. Photographers, artists, poets: show us LEARNING.

Jesus, what am I, an After-School Special?

“We’ll be right back, after these messages!”

Is there a painting or sculpture you’re drawn to? What does it say to you? Describe the experience. (Or, if art doesn’t speak to you, tell us why.) Photographers, artists, poets: show us ART.

Well sure, art “speaks” to me, but he’s always asking for booze money!

“Hey hey hey, Erik.”

“What is it, art?”

“Dude, I’m fresh out of vodka, but Sharron’s coming over, so if you could lend me a few-”

“Look, I’m tired of you coming over every five minutes and pretending- wait, who the hell is Sharron?!”

“She’s a friend of Debbie’s!”

OH GOD, DEBBIE! I MISS YOU BABY!”

Erm. Okay, that got away from me.

You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, or car? (Or something else entirely — bike? Hot air balloon?) Photographers, artists, poets: show us TRAVEL.

I travel entirely via 80’s music montages!

Do you belong in this day and age? Do you feel comfortable being a citizen of the 21st-century? If you do, explain why — and if you don’t, when in human history would you rather be? Photographers, artists, poets: show us MODERN.

The twist ending is that WordPress is actually FROM THE FUTURE!

Where do your morals come from — your family? Your faith? Your philosophical worldview? How do you deal with those who don’t share them, or derive them from a different source? Photographers, artists, poets: show us THE SOURCE.

Morals?

Heh… heh heh… heh heh hah hah hah HAH HAH HAH HAH HAAAAAAAAAH!

Oh wait, you were serious? Okay, lemme laugh even harder.

HAH HAH HAH HAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

We all have something we’d like to write about, but that doesn’t really “fit” our blog. Write it anyway. Photographers, artists, poets: show us MISFIT.

Fine, I’ll show you a “misfit”, but if you bring up the Island of Misfit Toys, I’m leaving.

"Nobody wants to play with a Chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarlie in the box!"

“Nobody wants to play with a Chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarlie in the box!”

If you could permanently ban a word from general usage, which one would it be? Why? Photographers, artists, poets: show us NO.

“Eric”.

What? Look, I’m tired of people misspelling my name!

Tell us a joke! Knock-knock joke, long story with a unexpected punchline, great zinger — all jokes are welcome! Photographers, artists, poets: show us FUNNY.

You want a “joke”, eh? Nope, sorry. We ain’t got no jokes here. Maybe you want the place down the street?

Describe a moment of kindness, between you and someone else — loved one or complete stranger. Photographers, artists, poets: show us KINDNESS.

Well, there was that time the barista forgot to spit in my coffee! Ah yes, I’ll always remember that day. I call it, “Wait, Since When Do Drink Coffee?”.

Often, our blogs have taglines. But what if humans did, too? What would your tagline be? Photographers, artists, poets: show us ADVERTISING.

I’m fairly certain my “tagline” would just be one of those Biohazard stickers.

There we go.

Brad Pitt Is Our Only Hope?

27 Jun

I’m tired of doing those reviews on silly horror movies that nobody has ever heard of, so today, I’m reviewing a summer blockbuster: World War Z, baby! We’re running with the big boys now!

As well as the Beard boys, apparently.

Now, unlike most of my other reviews, I’m writing this completely by memory! Yeah, I’m not really used to reviewing/summarizing a movie when I don’t actually have it in front of me, so this should be interesting.

The movie starts with… ants? I think? Yeah, it was ants, intercut with credits and shots of humans doing, humany things.

(What do humans do, anyway? Does anyone know?)

Yeah, so then Brad Pitt… eats breakfast, I think. Then he… has awkward exposition? Then… he startles a witch?

That sounds about right!

Then he gets hit by a car, then he… gets called by the President for one… last… mission!

Sure… let’s go with that.

Then… he meets up with some people, and they shoot themselves in the face, and he meets a cute girl without an arm, so they commit 9/11 together… then the zombies become water and… he gives himself AIDS?

Wow, I have no idea how those “serious” reviewers do this crap! Remembering stuff is hard!

What Goes Around, Reviews Around: Part Three

26 Jun

One of the major cornerstones in most, if not all, major religions is the concept of “penance”. Well, in that case, you can form your own religion around me because I’m still reviewing that terrible fucking science fiction story I wrote!

PREVIOUSLY, ON BRIGHTER FUTURE: Our asinine, nameless protagonist and his childish partner Jane are trying to stop the second apocalypse via a hoard of zombified monsters coming out of the bowels of the earth!

Ahem.

““No. No, it is not.” I answered.”

Wait, so I cut off that last post mid-conversation?

I don’t really get smarter, it appears, I just find new mistakes to make.

““Well, let’s go. 2 apocalypses is my max.” sighed Jane.”

Well, technically, ONE apocalypse would be your max, therefore you want to stop the second one.

POINT: Erik!

And the crowd goes wild!

““Wait. You’re coming with me? I thought I was going alone.”

“Oh yeah,” said Jane sarcastically. “I am totally going to trust you to stop the second apocalypse, you clod.””

Jane, being a jackass doesn’t qualify as a personality.

(Trust me, I know.)

“She started to walk speedily towards the cave as the Sargent took his place back in the line.

“Um, Jane!” I sped up to catch up with her. “Could I have a gun?”

“No! I only got the one, and I called dibs.” To punctuate this point, she points her gun at the cave and fires on one of the Legionaries, a term I am determined to strong arm into popular parlance.”

Yeah, and it sounds more awkward every time you say it.

““Well, can I have the baseball bat? I could smash stuff, I’m pretty sure I’m good at that.””

YOU. HAVE. FUCKING AMNESIA.

“Jane sighed, “Fine.” and gave me the bat. I swung it experimentally a few times before strapping it to my back.

“There we go!” I said cheerfully. “Now that I have a baseball bat, I’m sure we can stop an infinite amount of zombies.”

A moment of silence passed.

“You never know. It could work.””

Knowing the terrible writing thus far, yeah, it probably could.

“Me and Jane walked slowly in to the cave, each step thumping against the ground. The air was musty and thick, and the walls were smooth. Well. They probably used to be smooth, but the Legion must have been chewing away at the walls for some time, because they were gnarled and twisted. After we walked for 10 minutes, we came to a split, with a path in each direction.”

A path in EACH direction? So, what? Left and right? Up and down? North, south, east, west? Straight and diagonal? Or, and this is just a theory, maybe it’s the worst descriptive sentence I’ve ever read in my life! Or hey, maybe the tunnel is fucking non-euclidean geometry!

Bad Writing: Not even once.

““Which way should we go?” She swivelled her gun between each path, trying to cover both. One path had been walked on recently, with footprints in the dirt, heading back to the entrance. The other had also been trodden on, but less recently and in the opposite direction.

“Okay, so one is going in the opposite direction so-””

I… okay, I have no idea what’s going on here. I think this “trying to accurately describe things” thing is just making things worse.

““Stop trying to get your goddamn Cub Scouts path-finding badge and get your bat.” said Jane under her breath.

I looked up. A Legionary was standing at the end of the second path, and looked like it was mentally licking it’s lips at the thought of eating us.

“You know,” I said weakly. “I’m pretty sure Cub Scouts don’t have a path-finding badge.””

Oh really, well, I’m sure you’re just a bevy of Cub Scouts information especially because YOU HAVE FUCKING AMNESIA.

“Suddenly, a second one appeared behind it.

And then, another one.

Another one.”

Then, Groucho Marx.

Admit it: You’d be scared too if he came at you in a dark tunnel.

““Run.” Jane pulled out her gun and fired at the oncoming hoard 3 times before she swore and turned to run.

We sprinted down the path, following the footsteps to where they had come from. As we went, we passed more paths and caves.

And more Legionaries piled out of these passing caves to join in the chase.

You know, this really isn’t going well.”

Aww, how cute! You’re reviewing the story for me!

“We passed more caves and pathways and how many fucking caves are there down here?!

There’s about as many caves as there are lampshades.

““Fuck this.” Jane spun on her heels, drawing her gun and and firing at the Legion.

“You know, a little warning would be nice!” I yelled as I drew my baseball bat. Great, I’m fighting an infinite hoard of zombie monsters with a stupid piece of wood. Next thing you know, I’m gonna have to fight Satan with a water gun.”

Jesus, you wisecrack more than a wizard saltine!

“A Legionary lunged at my head, and I swung at his skull. It connected with a crack, and the beast’s head flew off, while it’s bottom jaw stuck on.

That… that really shouldn’t happen.

“There’s something wrong here!” I screamed at Jane.

“Oh really? I haven’t noticed!” she screamed back as she shot one in the head before pistol whipping another one.

“They die too easily!”

“That’s a problem?!”

I swung again, but I didn’t aim for the head this time. I aimed for the kneecap, shattering his femur with a single swing.”

Because, as we all know, kneecaps and femurs are basically the same thing!

Pictured: NOT A FUCKING KNEECAP.

“The monster collapsed in to the ground, and it smashed it’s head on the ground.

“Yes, two kills!” I yelled as I readied another swing.

Jane fired through another one’s gut, and they spilled out over the cave. “Yes, 12 kills!”

“What?! Liar!”

“Wanna bet?”

Before I can deliver a scathing retort that I’m sure would have out her in her place, a Legionary managed to blindside and smash in to me.”

Oh, thank you thank you thank you THANK YOU, Mr. Legionary!

“I fell backwards smashed in to the ground, and we began to tumble down the path. With each impact, I let out a grunt of pain and the Legionary let out a rasp. We fell and fell and fell before finally coming to a stop against a wall.”

Every time this [Insert Inarticulate Rage Here] gets hurt, an angel gets his wings.

““RAHH.” the Legionary rasped and pressed against me. It’s teeth were bared and it’s face pulled in a grimace of anger.

I swung my head forward and it connected with the monster’s head with a “thunk”. It recoiled backwards and I followed it up with a kick to the face. It’s nose broke with an audible “snap”.”

Full disclosure: I think head-butting things is HILARIOUS.

““Hah! How do you like some head? Boo yah!” I looked up and saw my bat falling down the path towards me and monster as it started to get up.

“What are you on about? Is there gay sex down there?” shouted Jane down at me.”

Yeah, I’ve always thought gay sex jokes were funny.

(My apologies, Jeph Jaques.)

““Oh, shut up.” I finally grabbed the bat and smashed it down on the Legionary’s head, squishing it like a grape.

The stupid thing finally died. I took a deep breath and waited for Jane. Or her twisted corpse.

Either or.”

Hopefully the second one!

““Wee!” Jane yelled as she slid down the path. It took me a minute to realize that she was sliding down on a wave of corpse goo.

“That is disgusting. You do realize that you’re riding the liquified corpses of the Legionaries, right?” I asked.

“Oh, hush.” At the bottom, she leapt up and holstered her gun. “What’s that?””

Her “Jack Skellington” impression leaves much to be desired.

“I turned around, and I saw what she was talking about. When we fell, me and the monster hadn’t hit a wall. We’d hit a door.

A vault door, covered in claw marks and scratches. And, in the centre of the vault door, was the numbers 108.

“I’m going to make a wild guess and say that that’s a door.””

Well, actually, it’s a “Fallout 3” expy. But, hey, close enough!

““Can we get it open, smart-ass?” Jane asked as she walked up and started to tap on it.

“Probably not. The Legion must have been trying to get in, and that’s where the claw marks came from.” I said as Jane continued to tap the door and the walls.

“Could this be where they’re coming from?”

“Maybe, but they are probably using a different door. Other wise, why would they need to get in- look, will you stop that?!” I snapped as she kept tapping.

“Hey, you never know. It could work.” No sooner had she said that did the rock on the wall she was tapping fall off, revealing a large button.”

Oh, I LOATH this story.

“”Oh, shut up.” I said as Jane laughed her ass off. I reached over and tapped the button, which caused the door to slowly slide open.

“Aw, I was hoping I’d get to use my grenades.” pouted Jane.

“What?! You brought grenades? Why?”

“You never know when you need to blow something up.”

The door opened, and we stepped in to the field of the dead.

Corpses lined the floor, empty and desecrated. Blood, waste, guts and corpses paint the floor.

The walls and ceiling are dull and grey, and the walls have finger marks, as though the people inside were trying to get out.

In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what happened.”

Uh oh. CLEAN UP ON AISLE THREE!

BRING A MOP!

“I turned to Jane. “Are you gonna vomit?”

She whispered back. “No. But I am gonna have to shoot something soon.”

As we walked in to the room, we noticed more facts. For example, all of them were the same.

The same man, the same woman. Blond hair, tan and all of them in the same jump suit. The same one the Legionaries were wearing.

On the other side of the room was a door, surrounded by corpses. The door itself has heavy set, and nothing short of a rhino could get it open. And we were all out of rhinos.”

Sure, but you have terrible jokes to spare.

“I stepped forward, trying desperately to ignore what I was stepping on.

“Don’t do it!” said Jane.

“I was just going to knock.”

“It might be dangerous.”

“It might not be.”

Jane sighed. “Fine, but if you die, I am making fun of you.”

“Duly noted.””

Aww, how cute! You’re pretending to have a personalities!

“I stepped forward to the door and knocked four times.

A moment passed.

Then another.

“Maybe they’re asleep?” I suggested lamely.

Suddenly a voice barked over the intercom. A girl. “Who or what are you?! How did you get the vault door open?! WHY ARE YOU HERE-”

“Whoa, calm down, girly!” said Jane. “We found the button. Under a rock. It was… insulting simple, really. Kind of anticlimactic.”

“Is the statue talking? How is that possible?” a man’s voice came out of the intercom.

“Oi! Did that fucker just call me a statue?!””

Hey, “how is that possible” is the first legitimate question I’ve heard all day.

““Now it’s swearing! How strange.” said the female voice.

“Look!” I tried to get the conversation back on track. “Can we come in? We have a couple of questions, and it’s kind of smelly in here.”

“Do you promise not to stay? We’re… kind of taxed right now.” said the man.

“Sure.” I shrugged.

“Also, your statue has to stay outside.” the female added.

“Stop calling me a statue! I will stick my gun where the sun won’t shine.” Jane waved her gun around to emphasize the point.

“What would you preferred we called you? Rocky? Garden gnome? Ooh, I know. Glorified sex toy.” the girl mocked over the intercom.”

That girl is my new favourite character.

“Jane leaned in close. “I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure?” I whispered back.

“If you take me along, I am going to shoot that bitch in the face and I am pretty sure that that would mess up our relations somewhat.”

“Fair enough.”

I stepped forward as Jane stepped back. The door slowly opened.

Revealing a crowd of men and women.

The men were the same as the corpses in the room, and so were the women.

All the same.

“Hello!” chirped the crowd. “Welcome to the Brighter Future Project!”

“I’m Billy!” said all the men in unison.

“And I’m Sally!” said all the women in unison.

Sigh.

“This is going to be a long day.” I muttered under my breath.”

Hey, look! An obvious stopping point randomly put in by the author!

Freshly Riffed 38: And When It’s Time To Go To Bed, I’m Still Awake Inside My Head

25 Jun

Welcome back to Freshly Riffed, the only web series with intense racism instead of a comment section!

I kid, of course! The odds of anybody entering my comment section is laughable!

According to the shadowy web-master I keep chained up in my server room, Freshly Riffed is where I make fun of the titles of Freshly Pressed blog posts. Also, I forget, do I need to feed web-masters?

Each title will be linked to the original author, and remember; All mockery is for mockery’s sake only.

Ahem.

My Top 12 Picks For The 12th Doctor: Wait, seriously? Did Doctor Who fan wank seriously make it on Freshly Pressed?

Well, I guess it’s time to change my name to “A Very Timey Wimey Place”.

This Is The Cry Of My Heart: My heart doesn’t cry, it just hums Eye Of The Tiger on repeat.

A Box Inside A Box: … Inside a box inside a box inside a box inside a box inside Newt Gingrich.

Don’t Be A Sexist Pig: A PSA: “Old McDonald had a heavy handed message, EEE EYE EEE EYE OHH.”

Finding Your People: Have you checked between the couch cushions?

Is This Failure: Is this failure… is this just fantasy!

The Come To Hell Special: It comes with a Styxian Milkshake!

The Woman Who Used To Be Me: Yeah, dopplegangers are a bitch.

Best Frenemies Forever: NO THAT IS NOT A WORD SHUT UP YOUR FACE.

Haiku To Mars: Red dust paints the sky.

Okay, maybe it doesn’t.

Is that how Mars works?

V/H/S: The (Obsolete) Ultimate Evil

24 Jun

Another day, another half of the found footage anthology film that I couldn’t finish reviewing in one day! That’s right, it’s time to polish off V/H/S! 

THE STORY SO FAR: A gang of rowdy thieves have broken in to a house, found an old man’s corpse, and are currently trying to find a mysterious V/H/S tape. And while they’re doing that, we get to watch each V/H/S, which makes up the segments of this film!

And no, they do not explain why everyone in this movie has such a fucking fetish for V/H/S! Apparently outdated recording formats are “a thing” in this universe.

If there are any V/H/S enthusiasts in the audience, then I must sorely inform you that you’re enthusiastic about the dumbest fucking things.

After a quick check in with the morons looking for the tape (and establishing that the dead old guy is officially AWOL), we start our next segment! Four teenagers are driving out for a country retreat, summarily establishing their stock horror movie stereotypes. ALL RIGHT, TIME FOR THE ROLE CALL!

SLUTTY! DWEEBY! JOCKY! AND… Wendy.

Look, I’m just happy that the only important character ALSO ends with a ‘Y’.

It appears Wendy is taking her three friends to her “special retreat”, and the three of them do stereotypical teenage things! You know, talk about boobs, drugs, swears, and their imminent deaths. (Yeah, that last bit was Wendy. FORESHADOWING, OFF THE PORT BOW!)

As they go, their camera gets glitched over and over again, which shows them a series of mangled corpses. You know, your standard forest accessories.

Wait, does that only happen to me?

They stop by a lake, force Dweeby to take a hit of… drugs, apparently (LOOK I’M NOT UP TO DATE ON MY DRUG SLANG, YO), and Wendy reveals that she saw her friends killed by this lake.

Hah hah! Just joking! (Except not.)

Jocky takes a dive in the lake, and feigns drowning. This angers Slutty and Dweeby enough to storm off and practice her dance routine. Suddenly, everything starts glitching up, and a glitch man with a red head whips a knife through her eye! Dweeby tries to run but- BAM! You done been glitched through the facehole!

Ooh, yesssss. It’s Glitches versus Bitches!

Wendy runs over, picks up the camera, and heads back to the lake. She says “hi” to Jocky and asks him to “fuck her brains out”. Unfortunately for her, Jocky has more than one brain cell, and demands an explanation.

Aw, darn, I was hoping for another random sex scene! Oh well, I can at least listen to Wendy explain how these guys were all bait for the Glitch, and then watch as Jockey gets his throat slit. It’s kinda like sex!

Wendy sprints away, with the Glitch in hot pursuit, when he walks straight in to a net she had set up, and then a bear trap. Unfortunately, she decides to walk as close as humanly possible to him so he knives her in the gut.

You SO deserved that.

Why, exactly, did you think that was a good idea?

As Wendy shambles away, she instructs the camera to “never come here”, which would be very good advice if Possesio ever picks it up. A glitchy Jocky wanders by, just so he can fall over. Did he think there was a mattress over there?

The Glitch walks over, ready to end this segment with a knife to the face, but walks right in to another booby trap! And not the fun kind, either!

(The fun kind is a trap with a ball pit.)

Wendy walks a little closer, to get a look at the skewered monster, when she turns around and- OH FUCK! He has the power of off-screen teleportation! He immediately starts caving in her skull with the camera and disembowelling her! This girl could not be any deader if she was my self respect!

The Glitch wanders off, and Wendy starts wiggling around and making screechy noises, Maniac style.

Back at the house, the old dead guy is back, but the “Actually-Doesn’t-Really-Look-Like-Waluigi” guy is gone, and a new schmoe takes over viewing duties.

The next segment starts off as… a Skype conversation?

WHO THE FUCK PUT A SKYPE CONVERSATION OF V/H FUCKING /S?! 

Anyway, a woman and her doctor friend are talking, with her stripping naked, presumably because the director realized that “Ten minutes have gone on and nobody has shown their tits?! AHHHHHHHHHHH”.

She’s talking about how her apartment is haunted, and how she has a weird lump on her arm, and I’m noticing that she has weird breasts and what a sad state of affairs I’m in that I have to start reviewing people’s tits!

The following evening, the girl is convinced that the ghosts are right outside her door, to which the doctor friend responds with dull surprise. Jesus, you couldn’t get a good performance after this guy if you searched for it with both hands.

Just as the girl, Emily, starts giving some background information… SUDDENLY OH MY GOD A LITTLE KID RUNS THROUGH THE ROOM.

You know, the footie pajamas kinda detract from all the hypothetical “scariness”.

And that’s not helping.

The next morning, Emily complains about the lump in her arm while

The following evening, Emily hears more noises, and instinctually reaches for her Skype buddy so they can investigate. As her and the computer wander through the house, she grabs a camera to use the “flash” to see, instead of… turning the light on?

This woman has the intelligence of A GRAPE FRUIT. 

The little kid ghosts say “boo”, and the next morning (if I have to say that one more time, I’m shoving this movie up it’s own ass), Emily is discussing the fact that nobody has ever died in her apartment with the doctor. Oh, and while she’s doing all this, she’s digging at the lump in her arm with a knife and a barbecue fork.

I apologise to all the grape fruits of the world.

This is a barbecue fork, by the way.

The following evening (GODDAMMIT) Emily hears some more paranormal activity in the living room, and has come up with the genius idea of… walking around with her eyes closed, holding out the laptop so the doctor can watch for the ghosts?

I’m going to assume you know why that’s stupid and move on.

The doctor finally spies some ghosts, who scream out a healthy burst of static and knock Emily down for the count. Suddenly… the doctor walks in the front door and starts extracting an alien fetus from her? And that lump in her arm turns out to be a tracking device? And it turns out the ghosts are aliens? And that the doctor is in on the scam to use Emily as an incubating device and then wipe her memory of the whole ordeal? And that there are actually a whole group of women that the doctor does this to?

Damn, this segment downright M. Night Shyamalan’d my ass!

Back at the thieves, the old corpse is gone once again, and so is the guy watching the tapes. Our last remaining thief picks up a camera, and starts searching for his friends, and he does, if by “friends” you mean “decapitated corpse of one of the thieves and the zombified old man”.

The old man chases him down the stairs, where he breaks his leg and gets eaten. Then… oh come on! The next tape starts playing? Just let it end! The movie’s over! Just let the damn movie end!

Sigh. Okay, one more segment.

A guy dressed in a giant bear costume with a camera in the head, joins up with his friends Pirate King, Modern Soldier, and the Unabomber to heat to a “rocking” Halloween party. And on their way there, they get stopped by a train. Ah, yes, I think they call this “The Foreshadowing Express”.

Once they reach the party, they discover that all the doors are locked and nobody is home. So, clearly they check their directions again- oh, wait, I mean they break in. OUR PROTAGONISTS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

They see some flickery lights, a creepy girl wandering around, and we even get some hands reaching through walls… off screen, of course, because why would we want to see that? And no, out heroes don’t TAKE A FUCKING HINT and leave. Urgh, stupid decisions in horror movies make my head hurt.

Get me my headache pills. They’re in the jar labelled “Why Would You Think That’s A Good Idea”.

Bear Man wanders in to a bed room, sees your industry standard spooky girl, gets locked in, and then wanders out. Because, that’s why. (Seriously, I am running out of “snarky becauses”.)

The group heads upstairs, where they see four old guys exorcising… Anneliese?! BEST CROSSOVER EVER.

Anyway, the morons try to help by chanting along with the cultists, which makes Anneliese toss them in to the rafters with her bitchin’ demonic powers! Damn, I wish I had powers like that. It’d make doing the dishes so much easier!

The group runs away, but heads back upstairs to “save” Anneliese from the exorcism. You guys… you guys haven’t seen any of my reviews, have you? PALE GIRLS ARE ALWAYS A BAD IDEA.

One more of the cultists gets tossed in to the rafters (seriously, where do those guys keep going?), and the group carries Anneliese through the house. The special effects team definitely has fun here, as the demon makes hands grow out of the walls, doors fly off hinges, hand prints appear on walls, doors to shrink in to nothing, things to fly across the room, sudden stacking, and random birds. Basically, they run through every ghost cliché.

I have the weirdest boner right now.

They manage to get her out, and hop in the car to take her to the hospital to treat Anneliese’s stab wound. And suddenly… the car stops.

Ooh, that is rarely a good sign.

Anneliese disappears suddenly, and reapears outside, to a hearty chorus of “what the fuck”. She starts strutting away from the car, and the group turns to the side and… hey look. A train.

I guess you don’t have to worry about heading in to the light, because that light is fucking coming to you!

Our protagonists end up in itty bitty pieces, and the movie immediately leaps in to the ending credits, complete with a song that completely ruins the mood.

(Be warned, this montage DOES feature boobs. Do not watch if you have delicate sensibilities, or just hate boobs, you mad, mad bastard!)

(Wait, is this seriously the first time I’ve featured boobs on this site? Huh. Weird.)

And that is V/H/S, and what’s interesting is that all of my problems with the movie have nothing to do with the fact that it’s found footage. All of it’s problems are the problems you’d find in a normal movie! You know, unlikeable characters, no proper conclusions, shameless T&A, bizarre soundtrack, awful pacing, unlikeable characters, stupid decisions, and unlikeable characters.

(Seriously, they were REALLY unlikeable.)

But hey, it has great special effects (especially in the first and last segments), decent writing, and with four segments, plus the wrap-around stuff with the thieves, you’re bound to find something you like.

Huh. I… I was really hoping to hate this.

Now I’m sad.