Tag Archives: action

Sep 07 2016
5 Comments
TV Reviews

TV Review – Burn Notice (2007-2013)

“Being a spy means having to do things you don’t want to do…like sitting through another one of BQB’s television reviews…”

Burnt spy + hot Irish babe/demolitions expert + hard drinking, wise cracking buddy + spy’s mom = a funny action series you should have paid more attention to when it was on the air.

But that’s ok. You can still catch it on Netflix.

BQB here with a review of Burn Notice.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DqP6JJc_EnU

The show begins with government super spy Michael Westen (Jeffrey Donovan) being “burned.”

As he explains during the show’s title sequence, his agency, without explaining why,  disavows him, writes him off, leaves him without any money or references and seeing as how Mike doesn’t have any job experience he can publicly admit, little in the way of skills he can use to make a legit living.

Thus, Mike moves back home to Florida to be closer to his elderly mother, Madeline (Sharon Gless of Cagney and Lacey fame.)

Mike forms a crew with:

  • His girlfriend, Fiona Glenanne (Gabrielle Anwar), a demolitions expert who, often to hilarious effect, wants to blow up everything first and ask questions later.
  • Sam Axe (Bruce Campbell), a fast talking degenerate/con artist/former Navy seal.

I love this show because to me, it felt like a modern day A-Team.  Just as the A-Team used their soldier skills to help people in need, Mike, Fiona and Sam form their own team and use their skills to help various residents of Florida save themselves from all manner of criminals and reprobates.

Now, keep in mind the show aired on USA, and not to cast aspersions, but USA is most likely your grandma’s favorite channel.

Ergo, USA shows tend to be simple (though I hear that might be changing with Mr. Robot as of late.)

Thus, the Burn Notice formula:

  • Beginning and end of the episode is about Mike’s ongoing quest to figure out who burned him and why he was burned.
  • In the middle, Mike, Sam or Fiona meet someone, often a nice civilian who has run afoul of some criminal.
  • Mike and the gang use their skills to help the person in need. Mike uses his spy skills. Fiona blows shit up. Sam uses his well worn alias “Chuck Finley” to sweet talk someone into giving up some information.
  • In fact, the trio often dust off their acting skills, using terrible accents and poorly crafted back stories to worm their way into the confidence of various criminal organizations before making their move.  If you suspend disbelief, its fun.

On top of all that, the Florida scenery is beautiful.

Mike even recruits his mom to help from time to time and there are a number of series regulars who come in and out.  Towards the end of the series, Coby Bell joins the group as Jesse Porter, a spy who, ironically, Michael burns.

I loved this show.  I looked forward to it when it was on every week as an escape. And it was one of few shows I was able to start when it was already on the air for a couple of years and understand what was going on before I eventually went back and watched the episodes I missed.

Somehow, the writers were able to balance the need for USA viewers to be able to understand what is happening if they just happen to start watching an episode at random with the audience’s desire to have interesting, compelling story lines.

I ended up caring about all of these characters and moreover, from start to finish, the writers make it clear that they care about you, the viewer.

Michael narrates each episode and explains his gadgets, strategies, plans, etc., usually with “Being a spy means…”

As Michael explains what he is up to, sometimes it is fun to watch to see if he can actually pull it off.

And everyone needs a girlfriend like Fiona and a buddy like Sam.

IMO, Donovan and Anwar are both underutilized by Hollywood and deserve more movie roles.

Bruce Campbell is a laugh riot and this role breathed much deserved life into his career.

Check it out, 3.5 readers.

Don’t forget to grab a yogurt. Mike loves his yogurt.

STATUS: Shelf-worthy.

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Aug 25 2016
4 Comments
Helen of Troy: History's Hottest Chick

Helen of Troy: History’s Hottest Chick – Chapter the First

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There has never been, nor will there ever be, a woman as beautiful as Helen.

I’m totally serious, you guys. One look at that foxy mama and it was all Boner City: Population You.

I’m talking an enchanting face that you could stare at for hours, eyes you could get lost in, long luxurious blonde hair you’d kill just to touch its sublime softness and those tittays? Don’t even get me started about the tittays. There were like two giant, perky chest rockets standing at attention.

No joke, I’m Homer, the Greatest Poet in all of Ancient Greece and it was all that even a scholar such as I could do to keep myself from dreaming about motor boating those puppies.

“Vrrooom vrrroooom ung nung nung nung nah!”

But I digress. Given Helen’s epic splooge inducing hotness, it was no surprise that those crusty old fucks Theseus and Peirithous, the kings of Athens and Larissa, respectively, kidnapped our beloved Helen and took her back to a dank, dark undisclosed lair.

“Come, Peirithous!” Theseus did say as he dropped his robe to the floor to reveal his oily hide. “Let us put our super wrinkly, disgustingly gray pubic hair infested nut sacks on full display!”

“Yes,” Peirithous did reply. “For we are very, very old and I do not know about you, my good friend Theseus, but I would surely enjoy having my way with the most beautiful woman in the world before I drop dead from a heart attack or ass cancer or some other bullshit disease that we are susceptible to for as you are no doubt aware, we are both ridiculously old!”

And so, Helen did cringe and cry and bemoan her fate as two lecherous, old, decrepit and dilapidated perverts closed in upon her. As they did so, both men held out their hands, opening and shutting them in the internationally understood “I want to honk some hooters” sign that men of poor moral character are known to engage in when approaching a woman with a copious bosom.

“Oh cruel fate!” Helen shouted. “Surely I am not doomed to be accosted by two crusty old fucks with super wrinkly balls, am I?”

At that precise moment, the business end of a sharp sword tore its way through Theseus’s belly, spritzing the lair with a thick douse of crimson red blood. A second blade made short work of Peirithous’s gut in similar fashion.

Both of the crusty old fucks fell to the floor, gyrating and convulsing. It was a horrific yet hilarious sight. If only video technology had been invented at the time. That shit would have gone viral on GreekTube.

The swords belonged to two young warriors, fair haired lads with chiseled jaws and rippling physiques.

“Brothers!” Helen said with glee as she hugged her rescuers.

“What treachery is this?” cried the crusty old fuck Theseus as his blood drained out into the dirt.

“Egads!” hollered the crusty old fuck Peirithous, “’Tis the Dioscuri! Castor and Pollux making with a cock block most foul!”

“Yes!” Theseus said. “Hast thou not heard of the ancient law known as, ‘bros before hoes?’”

“We have,” Castor said.

“But it pales in comparison to the law of ‘sisters before misters,’” Pollux added.

“Ha, ha!” Helen said. “Enjoy your most deserved deaths, crusty old fucks!”

“Uncool, Helen,” Castor said.

“Indeed,” Pollux said. “They’re already dying and…they’re dead. Yes. Its official. The crusty old fucks are dead.”

“And not a moment too soon,” Helen said. “Couldn’t you boys have saved me sooner? I was unacceptably close to having to touch their wrinkly balls.”

“We do have lives, Helen,” Castor said.

“Right,” Pollux said. “We do our best.”

“I know you do,” Helen said as she pecked each brother on the cheek. “Now come! We must return to father immediately! He shall be very worried I’m sure of it.”

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Aug 02 2016
9 Comments
Movies

Movie Controversy – The Great Wall

Hey nerds.

BQB here.

Soo…OscarsSoWhite.  That whole issue has led to people really paying attention to casting decisions lately.

A trailer is out for a moving coming out next year.  Sort of an action horror fantasy movie.  “The Great Wall” the idea being that the Great Wall of China was built to keep monsters from invading China.

So the hero’s an Asian guy, right?

Wrong. It’s Matt Damon.

I guess he had some time between filming the last Jason Bourne movie and the next Jason Bourne movie.

Hmmm…ok.  So I assume the story explains how a white guy ended up as the hero but…maybe just maybe Good Ole Matt has a good run in Tinsel Town.  Maybe just maybe there was an Asian guy who could have been the lead…in a movie…about China.

By the way – I’m not sure I blame Matt Damon.  I mean, if Hollywood’s passing out big bucks to pretend to be a warrior in China, I’d take it.  But, it is up to Hollywood to say, “Huh.  Maybe a movie in Asia needs an Asian lead.”

What say you, 3.5 readers?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4koBll__TcU

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May 28 2016
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Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – So Much Action

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And now the part all 3.5 of us have been waiting for – Slade’s big fight against Blythe on a fast moving train.

I’m not sure action translates well into books.

On a movie screen, you can see an explosion.

In a book, I’m not sure what an author can really do other than write, “There was an explosion.”

Oh well.  This next part is going to be action packed, so please advise me on how to make it better.

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May 17 2016
9 Comments
TV

Lethal Weapon Being Rebooted as a TV Series

Ugh. I don’t know what to make of this.

Lethal Weapon, the series of action movies I loved as a kid (though Aunt Gertie probably should not have let met watch them) is being rebooted as a TV series starring Damon Wayans as Roger Murtaugh and Clayne Crawford as Martin Riggs.

Ehh.  I just don’t know how well the concept will translate to today.

Lethal Weapon 1 and 2 were the best films of the series because they were so 1980’s.

Los Angeles. Cocaine related crime.

Martin Riggs i.e. the mentally unstable Vietnam veteran turned cop whose story  resonated with a lot of people at the time, as Vietnam vets had been asked to win an impossible war, then came home and were spit on for fighting an unpopular war then expected to just fade back into society without any problems or support offered to come to terms with what they experienced.

Even if you haven’t been to Vietnam, if you’ve experienced depression or know someone who has, Riggs’ willingness to throw himself headfirst into insanely dangerous situations (because of his inability to care whether or not he lives or dies) made him a “Lethal Weapon” and a nightmare for criminals used to being able to bribe or threaten cops into submission.

And that made him the perfect foil for Roger “I’m Getting Too Old For This Shit” Murtaugh, the old timer family man who just wanted to get home to his wife and kids safe and sound everyday.

Two partners, one doesn’t care if he dies, the other cares very much and wants to live, it made for a couple of great movies.

Lethal Weapon 3 and 4 were good movies but not as strong.  By then, they hooked Riggs up with Rene Russo and went to work on giving him a happy, respectable life by the end of the series, which ok, good for Riggs, but the happier he gets the less crazy he is.

Joe Pesci, who was introduced in two as the loud mouthed con artist who routinely comes to the duo’s aid was hilariously, and kept the films going in 3 and 4. I don’t see a Leo Goetz character in the series.

And Gary Busey as the villain in the first film. That was back when Gary hadn’t completely lost his mind.

The sad part is I’ll definitely check the show out and I’ll probably give it a chance.

Does it take away from the films? Not for me. They had action. Sadness. Comedy (I still laugh when I think about Murtaugh being stuck for hours sitting on a toilet due to a bomb (an actual bomb) and when his legs go numb, Murtaugh has to help him off.)

The corporate suits know that people my age will tune in for nostalgia purposes, while young people probably haven’t seen the films yet but have heard the name so will check it out due to name recognition.

But with it being on network TV, they won’t be able to engage in half of the activities that got the duo in trouble back in the old days.

Can Murtaugh even say, “I’m getting too old for this shit” on network TV?

I don’t know. I don’t want to root against it until I have seen it but I continue to wonder why an industry filled with the most creative people in the world feels it is necessary to keep rehashing old ideas.

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Apr 30 2016
2 Comments
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 88

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Doc went cross-eyed staring at all the gun barrels pointing at his nose. Slade. Miss Bonnie. Gunther. All had their sites trained on him.

“What, did one of you want the rabbit’s foot?” Doc asked. “I can’t say it was very lucky for the little fellow but I’ll fetch it if you wish.”

“Not funny,” Miss Bonnie said.

“Oh come now,” Doc said. “Who among you has never had rabbit stew?”

“That’s not the same thing,” Gunther said.

Miss Bonnie grabbed Annabelle by the wrist. “You’re coming with us.”

Annabelle pulled her hand back. “He’s fine.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Miss Bonnie asked as she pointed to Doc’s blood soaked beard. “Look at him.”

“He’s a genius, Bonnie,” Annabelle said. “He’ll figure out how to cure himself, won’t you Doc?”

“Indubitably, my dear,” Doc said. “There is no problem too great for science to remedy.”

“That’s not normal to want to bite into something alive like that,” Gunther said.

Doc sighed. “Did I feel a sudden urge swell up inside of me to snack on a small amount of living flesh?” the good doctor asked. “Yes. Does that mean I will carry that urge out on a human being? Of course not. I assure you that rabbit has left my hunger satiated.”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Miss Bonnie said. “Get away from him, Annabelle.”

Annabelle stomped her foot. “You’re not my mother, Bonnie!”

The sound of hundreds of footsteps marching in unison up the road outside broke up the conversation.

Then came Blythe’s voice. “Company…halt!”

The footsteps stopped.

Gunther peeked out a dusty window and caught a glimpse of Blythe hovering over his zombie firing squad. Undead men and women all obeying the vampire’s commands with expert military precision.

“Aim high for a warning volley!”

“Aw shit,” Gunther said.  He looked up at the ceiling. “I’m a-comin’ Mavis.”

The sound of hundreds of bullets being racked up into rifles filled Slade with dread. Instinctively, he dove for Miss Bonnie, knocking her to the safety of the ground.

A storm of bullets tore through the building, whizzing over everyone’s heads.

Sarah screamed hysterically.

Miss Bonnie punched Slade in the arm.

“Oh right,” the stoic said as he jumped back up and pulled Sarah down.

Miles, the Reverend and Annabelle all hit the dirt.

Slade shimmied on his belly to join Gunther, who was crouched next to the window with his pistol drawn.

Doc didn’t appear to be particularly concerned with his health as he casually strolled toward the window to join Slade and Gunther.

A bullet pierced through Doc’s shoulder. He slapped at it like it was a mild annoyance. “Oh my, that smarts.”

Unable to aim, Slade and Gunther poked their pistols out the window and shot blindly. By sheer luck, they were able to pop a couple of zombie skulls.

Doc, on the other hand, stood directly in front of the window, accepting one bullet after the other in his chest. That didn’t slow him down as he flicked his wrists, produced his pistols, and sent a barrage of fire toward the zombie army outside.

“Second volley!” Blythe commanded.

The zombies fired again, still aiming high as if to avoid hitting anyone.

“Cease fire!” Blythe commanded.

Slade and Gunther looked at one another, each man at a loss for words.

“Slade!” Blythe shouted from outside. “Now that I have your attention, I wonder if we might have a word?”

Slade reloaded his pistol as he answered. “Sure,” he replied loudly. “Go fuck yourself. There’s three.”

“Charming as usual,” Blythe replied.

Slade looked out the window to see Blythe float down to the ground. A werewolf handed the vampire a full whiskey bottle. Blythe took it and stuffed a rag into the bottle’s neck.

“You’ve got two options here, Slade,” Blythe said. “First, you can unload your silver, throw down your steel and come outside so we can talk about how I can turn you into a very rich and powerful man.”

“Bullshit,” Slade said.

“I won’t lie and tell you there won’t be a catch,” Blythe said. “You’ll have to do some things that run contrary to the adorable little moral code you’ve developed for yourself. But since the second option is that everyone you love dies a slow, painful death while you watch, I’d take the first one if I were you.”

The Reverend stood up, dusted himself off, and joined the men at the window.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned from reading this,” the preacher said as he wagged his bible at Slade, “It’s that devil’s bargains only work out for the devil.”

“We gathered, Rev,” Gunther said.

“I’m going outside,” the Reverend said.

“The hell you are,” Gunther replied.

“The Lord will protect me,” the Reverend said. “Or if not, I’ll at least be able to buy you all some time. Either way…”

The Reverend pointed a finger toward the ceiling. “…his will shall be done.”

“This is a hell of a time to get your faith back, Reverend,” Gunther said.

“Faith is never entirely present nor is it entirely gone,” the Reverend said. “Everyday we all struggle over whether to doubt or believe. I must now choose to believe for if I’m not able to put my studies of the Lord’s ways to some good use here then my life will have been for nothing.”

Slade grabbed the Reverend’s arm. “He’ll kill you for sure.”

“Then so be it,” the Reverend said. “It’ll be a glorious distraction.”

The preacher looked at Sarah and Miss Bonnie.

“And I’m sure you’ll know what to do.”

The Reverend leaned in close to Slade’s ear and whispered. “I’ve seen the way you look at the whore, son. There wouldn’t be any shame in it if you can make an honest woman of her but come clean with the Widow Farquhar. No one likes being the last to know.”

Slade nodded. The Reverend opened the door a crack and waved a white handkerchief.

“Oh what the hell is this?” Blythe asked as he saw the Reverend walk out with his hands up, one of them clutching his bible.

“I wish to talk, demon,” the Reverend replied.

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Apr 22 2016
4 Comments
top ten lists

Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be An Assassin

Yes, your girlfriend is quite fetching.

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I’d make a joke about how she could assassinate me anytime…but I really don’t want to be assassinated.

One might even say if looks could kill…well, hold that thought.

From BQB HQ in fabulous East Randomtown, here are the Top Ten Warning Signs Your Girlfriend Might Be an Assassin.

10.  Constantly wears a fully body leather cat suit everywhere, at all times…EXCEPT…when you want her to.  When you want her to she just throws on those dumpy old smelly sweat pants you wish she’d throw away. Women.

9.  All of her seemingly minor faux pas may in fact be attempts to assassinate you:

  • Undercooked chicken = bad cook? – Nope. Assassin! (An attempt to assassinate you via food poisoning.)
  • Slippery floor = lousy housekeeper? – Nope. Assassin! (She’s biding her time until you slip and fall to your doom.)
  • Constantly wants to do it = nymphomaniac? – Nope. Assassin! (Please. No woman in a committed relationship has ever actually wanted to do it with her boyfriend since the beginning of time. She’s wearing you out until your heart stops…i.e. she’s trying to assassinate you with her vagina.)

8.  She has a closet full of sniper rifles and is constantly taking them apart and putting them back together.  Always try to stay close to her…for at a long distance, she might assassinate you…through snipery!

7.  You asked her if she is an assassin and she said no.  She lies! Open your eyes, man! Of course an assassin wouldn’t openly admit to being an assassin.

6.  Constantly striking poses that accentuate her assets while holding guns, knives, and other weapons.  She puts the “ass” in assassin, that’s for sure.

5.  Are you an important person? If so, she might be trying to get close to you in order to assassinate you.  If not, then she still might kill you, but that would only be murder. Only rich, famous and powerful people get assassinated. Seriously, get your head out of the clouds and accept the fact that you’re not good enough to be assassinated.

4.  You don’t really have a good story about how you met your girlfriend. It wasn’t at a park while you were both walking your dogs, or at the grocery store when you both reached for the last box of Captain Crunch and instantly bonded. Nope.  She showed up in your bedroom one day with a bomb after one of your enemies put your photo and $100,000 in her secret drop box.  Why are you so oblivious?  Love is blinding you. Of course your girlfriend is an assassin if she has bombs and secret drop boxes!

3.  She’s always sneaking up on you…but instead of giving you hugs…she tries to strangle you with garrote wire.  Don’t buy her nonsense that this is just some kinky sex thing. She’s an assassin!

2.  Your face is always sore when you wake up.  Did you forget to rest your head on your pillow? Maybe…or maybe…your girlfriend was roundhouse kicking you in the face all night…because she is (wait for it) an assassin!

  1.  She’s constantly staring at you with a look of disgust in her eyes. True, this could be inconclusive as all girlfriends do this to their boyfriends, but keep in mind that should could be trying to make your brain explode with the mental powers she developed at the assassin school she attended because she is, you guessed it, an assassin.

EDITORIAL NOTE: Because we live in a stupid world filled with big dummies, Attorney Donnelly advises me to state to you that this post is just humorous fun and in reality it is highly unlikely your girlfriend is trying to assassinate you. However, should you develop a reasonable belief that your girlfriend is trying to assassinate you, do not confront her about the situation directly. Rather, report the matter to the police or your nearest government authority in charge of disrupting the activities of assassins.

Don’t live your life based on jokes made on a dumb blog for 3.5 readers, weirdos.

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Mar 02 2016
4 Comments
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 55

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Miss Bonnie wasn’t exactly in a rush to get back to the dive she called home. She’d walked to the Bonnie Lass so many times before, but there was something about this walk that felt different. The business she’d been so proud of was about to become her tomb, a place where she’d be stuck forever, surrounded by drunks, gamblers and perverts while another woman would be married to the man she loved.

So the redhead took her time. She stopped outside Anderson’s front window, gawked at the gee gaws on display and remembered the muffins she bought for Slade. She was pretty sure Sarah was an uppity bitch that baked her own muffins, but who cares? Miss Bonnie was a business woman, after all. An entrepreneur. An earner.

Miss Bonnie spotted Miles standing outside the store, eating his candy. She’d seen the boy around town before but had never met him.

“Hello,” she said.

“Ma’am,” Miles replied.

“What do I now?” Miss Bonnie thought.

She was in the process of talking herself into believing that one day she’d get over her loss. Maybe she’d find a man that would make her say, “Slade, who?” Or maybe she’d just grow her fortune and have a good time counting all her money.

But she couldn’t help but notice how hard it was to think when there was an obnoxious hissing sound coming from directly behind her. She turned around, expecting to see a snake but instead refused to believe her eyes when she saw Hewitt holding a bundle of dynamite in his hand. The long fuse attached to it was lit and burning down.

Becker carried another bundle. He held a lit cigar against the fuse until it too sparked.

Both men were standing out in front of the Bonnie Lass. Hewitt hauled his arm back, creating an arc that led directly over the the swinging doors.

Miles had no clue what to do. Helplessly, he stood and watched.

The redhead lifted her skirt, pulled her derringer out of her garter belt and pointed it at Hewitt.

“HEY!” she yelled.

Hewitt craned his neck back.

“Douse it!” Miss Bonnie said. “Both of you!”

Hewitt faced the saloon again. He tossed his bundle in. Becker tossed his.

Miss Bonnie squeezed the trigger, opening a hole in the back of Hewitt’s head that instantly closed. He swung around, looked at Bonnie and smiled. His eyes turned yellow.

The redhead fired her second shot. It landed in Hewitt’s chest. Again, the hole disappeared.

From inside the saloon, Waldo the Barkeep screamed, “WHAT THE…”

Calmly, the henchmen ducked.

The explosion was massive. Miss Bonnie’s life’s work erupted into a giant fireball as pieces of wood, debris, and body parts sprayed everywhere.

But she wasn’t left with much time to worry about her lost business, seeing as how half of a flaming player piano was sailing directly towards her.

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Jul 12 2015
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Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries – The Wrong Guy – Part 7

PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…

Hatcher’s on the hunt for Craig Henneman, a stick-up man who committed a mortal sin in Hatcher’s eyes, namely, offing the guy who supplied him with alcohol.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4    Part 5    Part 6

AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…

For a lawman, there’s nothing more unsettling than a locked door.

I’d found myself outside a slew of them in my day and each time, only God knew what was waiting for me on the other side.

And he was never in a sharing mood.

Hatcher and Betsy back together again.

Hatcher and Betsy back together again.

I was standing outside Henneman’s apartment, Wanda still resting snugly under my arm in a nondescript flower box.

Though the scumbag I was after had taken his ID back when he rifled through my pockets earlier, I remembered the address with the help of my photographic memory.

A good memory is just one of the many traits a man has to hone in order to become an investigator of my caliber.

I rapped three times on the door.

“Delivery!”  I barked.  “I have a delivery for a Mr. Craig Henneman.”

Come out and get delivered to your maker, you rat bastard.

Hearing nothing, I pulled out my tension wrench and lock pick, two tools any good locksmith has on him.

I inserted my two little helpers and searched for that special lineup of pins that would gain me entry to the home of a murderer.

Snap.  The bolt turned and I was in.

No need for the subterfuge any more.  I dropped the box and started clearing rooms, letting Wanda’s double-barrells to lead the way.

The bathroom was clean.  To clarify, I’m saying it was “clean” in that there was no one hiding in there waiting to smash my coconut open with a beer bottle, not in the tidy sense.  The toilet looked and smelled like it hadn’t been cleaned in the history of the world.  The only ones happy about that were the cockroaches who were using it as their own personal swimming pool.

Pretty sure I saw one of those nasties do the backstroke.

Moving on, I hit the kitchen.  No one there either.

In my LAPD days, I cleared out crapholes like this all the time.  As long as you treat every nook and cranny as if its being used for cover by some delinquent who wants to introduce you to the business end of a gun, there’s nothing to it.

I headed for the living room.  It was a mess, but a mess the local coppers would be interested in.

The coffee table was lousy with heaps of white powder.  Another hundred  or so small bags of stuff sat in a pile on the couch.

China white.  Columbian nose candy.  Big time booger sugar.

Called by any other name, it was still cocaine.

There was a bedroom off to the right.  I kicked in the door.

No one.  Nothing but trash, moldy food plates, and empty take-out containers.

It was like someone was waiting for a maid that was never going to come.

I stepped back into the living room and was about to clear the bedroom on the other side when three shots were fired through the door, the bullets narrowly missing my squash.

Wanda belched out of both barrels as I dove backward, landing on the coffee table, which smashed into splinters as it broke my fall.  The white powder went flying everywhere, turning the living room into a blizzard.

Some of it got into my mouth.  It had a fresh, pleasant smell almost like…baby powder.

Another shot.  I was flat on my back on the floor so it came nowhere near me.

I pulled two shells out of my pocket, inserted them into Wanda and cocked her with great gusto.

One more shot.

I was a firearms expert and I could tell by the sound of the blasts and the size of the holes in the door that the goon holed up in the bedroom was using my very own Betsy against me.

The sixth shot came.  The idiot was out.

“Get your ass out here and face the music, Henneman!”

The response?

“Wah gwaan, mon?!  Irie, irie!”

I sprang to my feet, kicked in the door and pointed Wanda at a fella who wasn’t the man I was looking for.

I’m not sure how to describe him.  He was white but he had these long dreadlocks, a pair of pants with a bunch of pockets and a green and yellow shirt that depicted the Jamaican flag.  I assumed his eyesight was subpar, since he squinted behind a pair of round black glasses.

I get we live in very politically correct, racially sensitive times now, the logistics of which can be hard for a fella from the 1950’s to wade through sometimes, so I’m just going to say he looked like a white guy trying to pass himself off as a black guy and hope I don’t offend Mr. Battler’s 3.5 readers into flying the coop.

“Drop that piece and kick it over here.  And keep your hands where I can see ’em.”

He did as I ordered.

“You aren’t fit to have your grubby paws anywhere this six-shooter, slime ball.”

“Jah mon!  Yah come up herr actin’ the bombaclad fool!”

“Where’s Henneman?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” I said.  “Craig Henneman.  He lives here.  Where is he?”

“Jah mon me yardie Craig jammin off to de Jamrock mon, the birdy fly fly away to de funkyside.”

I grabbed the weirdo by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall.

“UNHAND ME JAH FILTHY BALDHEAD!”

“TALK NORMAL!!!”

Suddenly, the clown’s accent moved from Rastafarian to clueless Californian.

“OK sir,”  he said in a shaky voice.  “I apologize for shooting at you but I hope now cooler heads can prevail and we can talk this out with some rational dialogue.”

“If you don’t tell me where your buddy is in two seconds…”

“It’s cool man, it’s cool.  He’s out there.  He’s rustling up some cash.  You can go back to Diego and tell him he’s going to get his money soon and then we can put this whole silly misunderstanding behind us.”

“Who’s Diego?”  I asked.

“You’re not here to collect for Diego?”

“No.”

From behind me, I heard the metallic sound of a hand gun slide being racked up.

“Then step aside because I am.”

Copyright (c) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

Image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Jul 01 2015
2 Comments
Movie Reviews

Movie Review – Terminator Genisys (2015)

The Mother of Dragons forgets her turquoise dress!  An elderly terminator that needs to be in bed by 4 pm!

Bookshelf Q. Battler here with a review of Terminator Genisys 

OBLIGATORY SPOILER WARNING

At the outset, let me give this film a compliment (of sorts):

1)  It’s the best Terminator film since T2: Judgement Day…

2)  …but that’s not saying much because Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines and Terminator Salvation were a couple of hot steamy turd sandwiches served up on a pair of silver platters.

That’s not intended as an insult to this film. I just think it might be impossible to beat the moments of sheer terror and exhilarating action provided by the first two films in the franchise.

For a moment, that’s what I thought this film was trying to do.  Hell, for a moment in the beginning, I thought it might even achieve that miraculous feat.

The film starts in 1984.  Without letting the cat out of the bag, let’s just say that the original evil Arnold terminator from the first movie (i.e. a totally buff CGI version of Arnold in his prime) squares off against a nice Arnold terminator akin to John Connor’s protector in the second film.  Meanwhile, a T1000, the shapeshifting liquid metal baddie from the second film jumps into the mix.

Sarah Connor (played by the Khaleesi..er I mean Emilia Clarke) and Kyle Reese (Sarah Connor’s human protector from the original film, played in this installment by Jai Courtney) round out the action.

In other words, it seemed like a great idea.  Take the best parts of the best two films in the franchise and throw them together in one big mashup.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t last long as the story jumps to 2017, where Genisys, a new form of Skynet that takes advantage of our love/lust relationship with cell phones, social media, and non-stop connectivity, needs to be stopped.

Arnold plays “Pops,” another “good terminator,” this one having been sent back in time to be Sarah’s protector.  We’re told that synthetic terminator skin ages over time, thus explaining why a man/machine looks like he’s ready to play a rousing game of bingo at the senior center.  We (or at least I) go along with it to give the Governator another bite at the apple.

Why not?  The guy did give us so many awesome action flicks when he was in his prime and oddly enough, the “old terminator” concept is touching at times.

I don’t want to give away who the ultimate baddie is in this film but suffice to say, I thought that part was dumb.  Alas, I can’t tell you why without spilling the beans.  Maybe after a week or two after folks have had the chance to see it I’ll talk about it.

Clarke provides a great performance in her first major role that doesn’t involve dragons.  (Still, if there could be a Terminators vs. Dragons crossover that’d be epic).

That being said, she’s a far cry from actress Linda Hamilton, who as Sarah Connor in the first film, convinced me that she was a damsel in distress and in the second film, convinced me that she’d turned herself into a gung-ho no holds barred ready to rock robot killing machine.

Throughout the film, there’s a whole lot of “timeline stuff.”  This happened in this timeline so that happened in that timeline.  If that happens now will it happen later?  Can people have two sets of memories, one from one timeline and one from another?

I don’t know.  That part’s confusing.  If you can figure it out, be my guest.  I have a life, folks, so I don’t have time to sit down with a flowchart and a slide rule and figure out the various outcomes of what happens when fictional manbots do various things at different times.

Here’s a Pop Culture Mystery Question I need to ask Hatcher to track down:

1)  If John Connor sends Kyle Reese back in time to save his mother, Sarah Connor (in the original 1984 version and in this one)

2)  And John Connor is conceived as a byproduct of Sarah Connor and Kyle Reese boinking in the first film (I’m sorry, as a result of their love)

3)  Then how is there a damn John Connor to send Kyle Reese back in time in the first place?

Thank God there’s a super sleuth in my employ to answer questions like these.  This one’s been rattling around in my head for ages.

If you know the answer, help Hatcher out.

Overall, it is a solid summer blockbuster and it’s great to see aspects we loved from the first two films on the big screen again.  It doesn’t rise up to the level of the first two, but it does surpass the third and fourth installments.

(The fourth installment being that one where Christian Bale played John Connor and famously shouted all kinds of abuse at a lightning guy for breaking his concentration.)

SIDENOTE – The CGI version of Arnold in his 1984 prime was pretty convincing.  Will there ever be a time when movies could be made entirely using CGI characters?  Do actors/actresses have something new to worry about?

STATUS:  Shelf-worthy.

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