October 26, 2003

Oh. That Massacre

Good Question, Timmy.

Depending on your situation, the best way to respond to a ridiculously scary thing may be to reduce it to merely ridiculous. How, you ask? Why, by means of clever ridicule, of course.

Therefore, regarding the Texas Chainsaw Massacre:

There sure was a awful lotta big sharp hooks just hanging around that town.

Hey look, gang, it's someone's severed jaw. Let's split up.

Quick! The abbatoir looks like a safe place! We'll hide in there, and avoid additional shocking images, too.

"How embarrassing" . . . yeah, some a you know what I mean . .

Ahh! Leatherface! Let's brilliantly attempt to flee through this wall of tangly hanging sheets, 'cause otherwise getting away across this open field would be a little . . . too easy.

I'm sick a you guys tryin to scare me, I'm gonna go into the dark dank room full of creepy machinery with strange noises comin from it and sulk for a while.

Possums . . . .

It all gives the viewer pause to consider: Who is the real victim, here? These dumb kids or Leatherface himself? With just a little love and some group hugs, Leatherface might have grown up not swinging a chainsaw, but singing a chorus of joy and humanity across the world as a member of the musical youth troupe "Up with People."

Shit, my door just made a funny noise. Aww, I'm not gonna sleep well tonight. Well, I could probably write on, but let's not. Instead, let's calm down with a little story about Killer Robots Escaping to Wreak Bloody Havoc.

Nevermind the Bollocks,

Marke.


(I promise not to do this very often.)