Now and then I dip my toes into various Mornington Crescent games (don’t ask, I can’t tell you…but I can say I am a Black Belt nth Dan at the reverse Saint Johns Wood twist).
One of the games was a play on words – when films collide…
Some of it may be a bit on the blue side – so don’t read it unless it’s past 9pm…..
David Lightman looked at the screen….a few simple keystrokes and he was in. What was this though?
David realised that he had only a few hours to undo what he thought was going to be a sneak preview of an upcoming computer game…but now he was head to head with the U.S. Air Force’s WOPR computer system….one false entry and it would trigger a countdown to World War III.
Jennifer looked on in disbelief as Lightman’s 1980’s sound card blurped into life….
“Just what do you think you’re doing, Dave?”
Titanic – The Revenge
Standing on the bow of the vessel, Rose DeWitt Bukater stretched her arms out to her sides whilst the handsome young Jack Dawson held his new love firmly around the waist. The sea air was fresh and the sound of the gulls was momentarily drowned out by the noise of the waves crashing on the side of the craft…..
Rose suddenly swung her arm around and pointed with vigor to the forward port side of the vessel to where the gulls were gathering over the freshly laid chum…
“THERE IT IS JACK!” Rose screamed over the growing oceanic cacophony…
“I SEE IT ROSE!” cried out Jack, and then under his breath he muttered to himself…“I think we’re going to need a bigger boat…….”
da dum….da dum….da dum da dum da dum da dum da BADA DAAAAAA!!!
Being Papa Smurf
In the low ceilinged Manhattan building of Lestercorp, puppeteer Craig Schwartz and Maxine Lund were walking, bent double, to a small out of the way office.
Craig spoke softly to Maxine, as if speaking these words any louder would make them sound madder than they actually were…“There’s a tiny door in that empty office. It’s a portal, Maxine. It takes you inside another person. You see the world through that person’s eyes, then, after about fifteen minutes, you’re spit out into a ditch on the side of The New Jersey Turnpike.”
Maxine smiled at Craig “Sounds delightful. Who the fuck is this person?”
“He’s famous. One of the most well known characters of the 20th century.”
“What’s he done?”
“Lots of things. He’s very well respected. Musical albums and a T.V series, for example. The point is that this is a very odd thing, supernatural, for lack of a better word. It raises all sorts of philosophical questions about the nature of self, about the existence of the soul. Am I me? or is this person me? Was the Buddha right, is duality an illusion? Do you see what a can of worms this portal is? I don’t think I can go on living my life as I have lived it. There’s only one thing to do. Let’s get married right away.”
“I think I should see this portal first…then we’ll talk…”
They entered the office and moved a heavy filing cabinet to one side, revealing a hole in the wall, as Craig had said.
“Please,” He started “look for yourself!”
Maxine was already through the hole in the wall, and within moments she was seeing things through anothers eyes….first there were trees…lots of very tall trees…a cottage….it looked closer than it really was, because as she walked up to the cottage she realised that it was huge….and those trees were not that all in comparison…she was short…
From inside the cottage came a gravel like voice…a wretched hunch back of a voice…and then a scatching at the door she was stood outside of…
The voice spoke to the source of the scratched door….“What can you smell? What is it…do you want to go out..?” The voice paused as a hissing yeowl of a cat startled Maxine, then the voice came again…“…Can you smell him? Can you Azrael? Surely we’re not lucky enough that Papa Smurf has ventured up here – within our grasp!!!” cackled Gargamel.
Chitty Chitty A-Team
Lieutenant Templeton “Face” Peck walked over to Sergeant Bosco “B.A.” Baracus…
“B.A…What is it you are actually making out of this fine 1921 Paragon Panther?”
“Fool…just git outa my face, Face.”
“Leave him alone,” muttered Colonel John “Hannibal” Smith “He’s working on an idea that Murdoch came up with…”
“Heh, heh…that mad fool might be on to something…” sniggered B.A.
Face walked over to Murdoch and the Berriwillock (Meaning of Liff) of the Team, Frankie “Dishpan” Santana. If Murdoch had a good idea, then it must be a crazy one that kinda made sense….he head to find out.
“Hey Murdoch…What on earth is B.A doing with that old race car?”
“Hey Face Man…it’s just an idea I came up with…you know…like he hates getting in any damned ‘plane, but it really is the fastest way for us to get around…”
“Hi” said Dishpan, you might not rememb…
“So, what is this idea Murdoch?….What could you come up with that could get B.A so excited?” asked Face, looking at himself in a piece of tin plate he’d found in the garage.
“Well Face Man, B.A ain’t never getting on no ‘plane, and we feel that drugging him in the same way each time we need to fly is getting tedious….and it makes B.A look like a mad fool for falling for it…”
“HEY FOOL…I HEARD THAT!”
Hannibal interjected “Relax B.A, it is true after all. Please continue Murdoch.”
“Well…he always says he ain’t geting on no plane…so I came up with this idea…”
“That’s a car though Murdoch” mentioned Face, “That’s not a plane…”
“I know…and he’s never said he ain’t never getting in no car. He has also never said anything about being IN the plane itself…just the getting in bit makes him mad….”
“YOU MAD FOOL…Heh…you had a good idea this time though…I’m still gonna kick yo ass though…”
“QUICK…To the 1921 Paragon Panther racing car….DECKER’S coming!” ordered Hannibal.
The A-Team jumped into the car as B.A fired the engine into life. Decker’s men burst in through the doors either side of the building, failing to do the obvious and put a gaurd on the waffer thin hangar doors to the front.
With the engine howling, B.A threw the car into gear and shot off forward through the waffer thin doors…
“Bugger” said Decker “Who’d have thought that!?”
As the car sped out of the building, B.A pulled on a lever on the side. Slowly red and orange material appeared from the sides of the car in a sweeping arc, gradually becoming tighter as a delta shaped appeared. The car eased away from the ground and took to the air, leaving Decker nothing to do but shoot wildly at the departing A-Team, missing the slow flying car with every fully trained military career mans shot…
“It ain’t no plane when I get in..Heh heh” Laughed B.A “You may be a fool Murdoch, but this idea really takes off!!!”
Down below, ignored by everyone, a lone voice screamed upwards…”Guys…what about me?…Dishpan…the fifth member!..series five?..guys…..GUYS!!!!”
“Good thinking Murdoch,” commented Face…”this is just the thing we need to help free those kids from the evil Baron Bomburst and his Child Catcher”
Smiling, Colonel Smith stammered out a well honed phrase through his cigar….
“I love it when a ‘plane comes together….
Snow White and the Taxi Driver
The jealous queen’s attempts to get rid of her beautiful step-daughter had taken a step further forward. The poison apple should have worked by now! There could be no way that Snow White was still ‘alive’!
She happily imagined the dwarfs, all seven of them, mourning the loss of their house guest! Yes…now no-one could stand in her way….she must be the fairest woman alive!
The wicked queen walked over to the all seeing mirror, and asked once more the question she was so sure of…
…”Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, now, who is the fairest of us all?”
The mirror shimmered into life, the mists cleared and its all knowing face appeared…After a moments pause, a blink, and a glance around the room, the mirror responded….
” You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me? Then who the hell else are you talkin’ to? You talkin’ to me? Well, I’m the only one here. Who do the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
From Dusk til Zulu Dawn
Seth Gecko looked over the occupants of the ‘Titty Twister’…this looked like a good place to rest up for a while whilst they were waiting for their ride. The Fullers had been ‘good enough’ to drive them this far, but Seth wasn’t letting them go just yet.
Across the table tops came a leggy dancer, introduced as ‘Santanico Pandemonium’. She started to sway in a seductive manner…this was starting to look good. A table of what could only be described as ‘True Brits’ sat across the room, trying hard not to look at the degrading dance. By all that was British, this wasn’t what they were used to.
In a flash everything turned to Hell…the once plain ugly and aggressive clientele had turned to ugly and aggressive clientele with blood sucking tendencies…this was going to be a blood bath…
Seth and the Fullers were one side of the bar, fighting and mowing down these evil Hell spawn. Using every weapon at their disposal. Blood flowed freely as the onslaught continued. Several times it looked as though it was all over, and that the Texan bank job they had pulled was all for nothing.
The gun shots died down…the smoke settled…the flow of blood from the un-dead slowed…Seth and the remaining Fullers looked over the room…Seth saw the Brits, still smart in their attire, although slightly dishevelled.
“Hey Limeys” called Seth “There must have been 4,000 of these suckers! I think we got ’em all though, heh! I mean, like, how many did you get?”
Lieutenant Gonville Bromhead shouted back to Seth and proclaimed “Sixty! We dropped at least 60, wouldn’t you say?”
Lt. Josef Adendorff, NNC, spoke out quietly to Bromhead…“That leaves only 3,940.”
“Whatever man!” returned Seth “I think it’s a miracle we’re still a-fuckin-live man!”
“If it’s a miracle, Sir, it’s a short chamber Boxer Henry point 45 calibre miracle” muttered Lt. John Chard.
Colour Sergeant Bourne spoke from under a split corpse “And a bayonet, sir, with some guts behind.”
“I think there’ll be more…we need to make a defence or somit man” said Seth, cleaning off some demon gut from his forehead, “How many men do you Brits have over there on your table?”
Bromhead replied, “Seven officers including surgeon, commissaries and so on, wounded and sick 36, fit for duty 97 and about 40 native levies. Not much of an army for you…as for defences, I don’t think we have the strength or will left to build any…” Bromhead was cut off mid flow,
“I don’t give a damn! And I want this wall nine feet high, firing steps on the inside. Form details to clear away the Vampire bodies, rebuild the south rampart, keep ’em moving! Do you understand?” screamed Chard
“Haven’t you had enough? Both of you! My god, can’t you see it’s all over! Your bloody egos don’t matter anymore. We’re dead!” sobbed Adendorff.
Begbie turned and asked Sick Boy a simple question…it always started out with a simple f**cking question…
“Did you bring the cards?”
“What?” replied a laid back Sick Boy
“The cards, the last thing I told you was to mind the cards!”
“Well, I’ve not brought them.”
“It’s f**king boring after a while without the cards.”
“Bit f**king late, like.”
“Why didn’t you bring them?”
“‘CAUSE I F**KING TOLD YOU TO BRING THEM, YOU DOSS C**T! ”
Dylan nudged Begbie
“Chill out guys, I’ve got something stashed that just might help.”
“Dylan,” started Bryan, “we don’t have time to indulge in recreational activities…“
ET: E.T go home?
Ennis: I’m sorry little guy, we just can’t….
Jack: Yeah, we’ve tried to let you go, but it’s so hard….
Ennis: We wish we knew how to quit you…
Jamie and the magic….. torch….
Jamie and the Magic Torch.
Down the helter skelter, faster and faster
towards Cuckoo Land.
Following hard behind.
Ready for adventure, always there to lend a paw
Mr Boo and all the others too,
the strangest people you’ve ever seen.
And the torch with it’s magical beam –
If I hadn’t really been there
I’d think that I was dreaming!
No two nights are the same.
And life is one long glorious game
Jamie and the Magic Torch!
[Yeah! Switch On!]
Yes….The force is strong in this one my Lord Vader…
Hamlet took the skull into his hand, looked upon it and spoke…
“Erm…excuse me, my liege…” a voice!!! “I think you’ll find that the skull that you hold is not of the person you think it to be…”
Hamlet was taken aback…
“Who are you, you vile wretch of a …a…man?”
The bundled lump of rags returned the question with the truth…an answer…
“I am a lowly turnip farmer’s son my master, my leige, beg, grovel…and that skull is my father….a man from a long line of servants….but honourable all the same…a leading light to the family of Baldrick….”
“Oh….” Said Hamlet, “My bad.”
The Italian Death Star
I don’t care if it was a bloody moon or not…you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off…
…..Okay…. that’s your lot!