A few months ago, I made the dire mistake of seeing the movie Breach in the theaters. Those who have seen it know it’s a fairly quiet movie, one that relies on (non-existent) tension to hurtle the plot forward, but ends up turning into a marvel-fest at the tumor growing out of Ryan Phillippe‘s forehead. I sat next to a couple who looked normal enough, and they seemed to be in love (aw). 20 minutes into Breach, he puts his arm around her and starts scratching her sleeve with his index finer. A small gesture of love, but the repetitive sound of his nail scratching against the grain of her polyester button-down was enough to make me pluck my eyeballs out of my head and jam them into my earholes. Then, this b*tch goes into her bag, takes out an apple, and begins crunching away at it, loudly. Just when I’m hoping that the steam coming out of my ears is thick enough to effect the vision of my neighbors, she takes the core and puts it in the armrest cup intended for ice cold beverages. Needless to say, the core falls straight through the 15-inch hole that allows one to place their drink in it, and lands directly on top. of. my. boot.
So. I took my boot, lined the core up nicely, and kicked it directly into her legs, likely breaking 2 to 3 hundred bones. Looking back, this exchange was infinitely more entertaining than the movie itself.
Now, if only this fake commercial from the opening of the Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie — outlining proper movie-going etiquette — would play before each and every film, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have crippled my neighbor.
(via GorillaMask)
