Dream
What would you get if you threw Gabriel Byrne, Scotland, lobsters, muppets, Samuel L. Jackson and the Oscars into a giant blender? Well, you'd get this dream.
It starts with Gabriel Byrne coming home by me and my godmother limping up the stairs on ill-fitting transplanted feet. She'd apparently cut off hers as a sacrifice (he was the devil). He comes up the stairs in full navy blue suit, waistcoat, everything, then does an Irish jig in the kitchen and proceeds to extol the virtues of recycling while my mother and I argue about which one of us he wants.
Cut to: me, Gabriel and a load of people in wetsuits watching lobsters off the coast of Scotland in outrageously warm water while our guide complains that it's been a horribly cold summer. Meanwhile, the lobsters turn out to be muppets and burst into song. Gabriel, who is now miraculously in trunks, pulls me out of the water and onto some semi-island where we get splashed in the face by the mother of all waves and stare awkwardly at our soggy pizzas while incubating sexual tension.
Cut to: concert, with Gabriel and I just offstage washing dishes and tossing them across the stage to someone offstage on the other side. Onstage, Mario does his usual groove thang at a piano while Marc, plus a lot of badly cut black hair and minus the gimp, channels Stevie Wonder at another piano.
Cut to: gigantic epic indoor chase scene going on - and through an airport, it looks like. It coincides with a bunch of other movies as we pelt along (somebody's holding a gun to Bruce Willis' head, there's a shootout between Benicio del Toro and Michael Douglas, a bunch of badly dressed teenagers including a much younger Leonardo di Caprio and I think Shane West as well are cussing out some airport security).
I'm apparently Kevin Spacey in glasses, chasing Samuel L. Jackson (who is snarking about my glasses) to see who gets to host the Oscars. So I catch up to him on a set of narrow spiral stairs and trip him. As I'm opening the door, he asks, from the floor, "So what are you wearing?" As I turn to tell him I was thinking Armani, he goes, "No, fucko! You're wearing glasses!", kicks me in the face, laughs like a maniac, and gets through the door first.
But apparently this is like an RPG, because I can continue from my most recently saved point, and fortunately I remembered to save when we reached the stairs. This time I know that he's going to kick me so I grab his legs but I go headfirst down the stairs anyway. So on my last try, when he asks me what I'm wearing, I turn, say, "Glasses, fucko!", kick him in the face and run through the door laughing.
What the fuck? Anyone?
It starts with Gabriel Byrne coming home by me and my godmother limping up the stairs on ill-fitting transplanted feet. She'd apparently cut off hers as a sacrifice (he was the devil). He comes up the stairs in full navy blue suit, waistcoat, everything, then does an Irish jig in the kitchen and proceeds to extol the virtues of recycling while my mother and I argue about which one of us he wants.
Cut to: me, Gabriel and a load of people in wetsuits watching lobsters off the coast of Scotland in outrageously warm water while our guide complains that it's been a horribly cold summer. Meanwhile, the lobsters turn out to be muppets and burst into song. Gabriel, who is now miraculously in trunks, pulls me out of the water and onto some semi-island where we get splashed in the face by the mother of all waves and stare awkwardly at our soggy pizzas while incubating sexual tension.
Cut to: concert, with Gabriel and I just offstage washing dishes and tossing them across the stage to someone offstage on the other side. Onstage, Mario does his usual groove thang at a piano while Marc, plus a lot of badly cut black hair and minus the gimp, channels Stevie Wonder at another piano.
Cut to: gigantic epic indoor chase scene going on - and through an airport, it looks like. It coincides with a bunch of other movies as we pelt along (somebody's holding a gun to Bruce Willis' head, there's a shootout between Benicio del Toro and Michael Douglas, a bunch of badly dressed teenagers including a much younger Leonardo di Caprio and I think Shane West as well are cussing out some airport security).
I'm apparently Kevin Spacey in glasses, chasing Samuel L. Jackson (who is snarking about my glasses) to see who gets to host the Oscars. So I catch up to him on a set of narrow spiral stairs and trip him. As I'm opening the door, he asks, from the floor, "So what are you wearing?" As I turn to tell him I was thinking Armani, he goes, "No, fucko! You're wearing glasses!", kicks me in the face, laughs like a maniac, and gets through the door first.
But apparently this is like an RPG, because I can continue from my most recently saved point, and fortunately I remembered to save when we reached the stairs. This time I know that he's going to kick me so I grab his legs but I go headfirst down the stairs anyway. So on my last try, when he asks me what I'm wearing, I turn, say, "Glasses, fucko!", kick him in the face and run through the door laughing.
What the fuck? Anyone?
posted by Ariana at 8:02 PM
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