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An asymmetrical astronaut who fancies himself a cowboy walks into a spaghetti western omelet saloon, takes off his cowboy hat and moon-helmet and orders a slice of his own liver drenched in rye whiskey, seasoned with gunpowder and garnished with tumbleweeds. The bartender, who is a clone of Sergio Leone, walks to the back room and comes back yelling “DUCK!” with a posse of very symmetrical 8-bit vigilante waterfowls pointing microwave guns at the asymmetrical astronaut’s cowboy-like midsection and hurling paper airplanes made of “wanted: dead or alive” posters on which is printed a picture of the liver in question. Sergio says he’d love to serve him up a piece but that his liver is wanted in four states “dead or alive” and he’d be dammed if he was going to serve it to anyone and miss out on the reward money. The asymmetrical astronaut opens his mouth and his liver jumps out holding his surprisingly attractive pancreas hostage at gunpoint, yelling to every “pahd-nah” in there to stay back or the pancreas gets it. The symmetrical 8-bit avian vigilantes angrily swarm around the room in perfect formation but the astronaut-cowboy pleads to them and the Leone clone not to hurt his beautiful pancreas and that he and his sweet pancreas are lovers planning on eloping together in a fortnight after they do away with that pesky liver who insisted on a life of crime and do-no-goodery. The liver backs its way out of the spaghetti western omelet saloon with its stunning pancreatic prisoner and jumps into a nearby horse, kicking out both the animal’s liver and pancreas and replacing them with itself and its hostage, causing the horse to gallop into the sunset. Sergio relaxes and tells the asymmetrical astronaut in a cowboy-like way that they won’t get far because the horse’s body will eventually reject them at which point his band of 8-bit duck bounty hunters will be on them like the space piss on your pant leg and would you like a fresh slice of horse liver instead?
Now a special Hitchcock’s birthday edition of FWMSAOCT!! Today’s scene is a delicious slice of film noire from the dead director’s 1951 classic, “Strangers on a Train”:
MR BRUNO: Oh, what a life or two? Some people are more better, the deceased person. Take your - for example my wife and my father. It reminds me of a great ideas have had. I have put yourself at night - guess it. Now, assume that you want to remove from your wife.
MR BRUNO: That she refused to give your divorce - (the train your fingers and abort the protests’ assumptions). Because you will be caught, you will fear killed her. And travel you will be increased? Motivation. Now this plan …
PEOPLE: I am afraid I do not have time to listen.
MR BRUNO: It is very simple, too. 23 a guy accidentally meet, like you and me. Between them, there is no connection. I have never seen each other. Each has his hope that, apart from the people, but he could not have his murder to remove. He will be caught. So they exchange murder.
PEOPLE: Exchange murder?
MR BRUNO: Each guy do another guy’s murder. And then there is no connection. There are motivated people out there. Each guy murder of a stranger. As you do so I am of the murder, and I do the job for you.
PEOPLE: We go to my resident.
MR BRUNO: For example, your wife, and I am the father. Figure 10.
PEOPLE: (SHARP) What?
MR BRUNO: (with a smile) We are going to talk about with a language - not us, who?
PEOPLE: (ready to leave) Certainly, we are going to talk about with a language. Thank you for lunch.
MR BRUNO: I am pleased that you enjoyed it. I think lamb is excessive.
(He offered his hand. PEOPLE are anxious, but shook his hand).
PEOPLE: see that you are very pleased that Mr. Bruno.
MR BRUNO: (detained him in the door) Do you think my theory is good, People? Do you like it?
PEOPLE: Certainly, certainly, Mr. Bruno. They are all good. (He had to pay a good-bye and hurried)
Separate from Bruno, picked up from the People at your table of the lighters, and started to call people back to hand it to him. And then he watched more closely across the tennis-racket.
MR BRUNO: (smile) Figure 10.
Today’s scene involves a classic Crawford family moment from the 1981 biographical drama, “Mommie Dearest”:
JOAN CRAWFORD: Do not…..wire hanger! What wire hanger in the wardrobe when I tell you: there is no wire hangers? I work and work till I was dying, hearing people say, ’ she’s getting older, ’ what do I have? daughter cared as much about the beautiful dresses I gave her … She cares about me. Wire hanger in the closet doing? answer me. I’ll buy you a pretty dress, and you treat them like they were some of the dishrag. You do. $ 300 silk hanging on the racks of clothes. We will see how many if you are hiding somewhere. We’ll see, we take a look at……. Get out of that bed. All of this is coming out. Go out. Go out. Go out. Go out. Go out. Go out. Do you have any more? We have to see how much you have in your closet, wire hanger. Wire hangers, and why? Why? Christina, out of that bed. Get out of that bed. You live in the most beautiful house in Brentwood, you don’t care about your clothes from a wire hanger out. Your room looks like some two-dollar a week room in Okalahoma some two-bit town back street. Get up. Get up. Clean up this mess.
I stepped outside to hail a cab and found one waiting by the curb. I jumped into the backseat. “Downtown, please,” I said.
The grizzled cabby grumbled at me through the rear-view mirror, “Listen heres buddy, we don’t serves your kinds here. This here’s a Tuna Taxi can’t yous read the signs heres?” He pointed to a sign on his dashboard which read:
This Taxi for Tuna (Fish) Only - Everyone Else: Fuck Off!
He covertly looked left and right, twisted around in his seat and whispered, “Yous knows, there is a loophole…do yous, um, haves any tuna on yous? Canned, raw, in a sandwich or salad…as longs as yous have some tunas on yous i can give yous a rides…so do yous?”
“Do yous haves any tuna on yous?!”
I rustled through my pockets…”um…”
“OKs buddy…I can sees yous don’t gots no tuna…yous gonna have to gets the fuck outs…”
“What about about eggs?”
“You haves tuna eggses?”
“A whole pocketful,” I held up a handful of thousands of tiny, slimy tuna eggs. I knew they would come in handy somehow.
"Good enough for mes," he said.
Just then the other back door opened and a very disturbed albacore jumped into the back seat brandishing a pistol and a sack with a dollar sign on it. “To the airport, motherfucker, and step on it!”
The driver did as he was told and “stepped on it” and before I knew it, we were rolling away at full speed down the highway. At this point the frantic fish had not yet noticed me sitting in the seat next to him. He slowly turned his fish eyed face in my direction…our eyes met and we both screamed at each other.
“What the FUCK!? This is a TUNA TAXI motherfucker! You look pretty fucking far from a TUNA, human asshole!” He pointed the gun at my head and looked down at my hand. “What is-? Is that-? Oh you’re dead. You are so DEAD…”
I was walking around my neighborhood and noticed that over the past few weeks my fellow residents have increasingly been wearing decreasing amounts of clothing. A few have even taken to walking around completely in the nude, while some I’ve seen wearing just parts of clothes (one sleeve, 1/2 of a pant leg, etc.) I couldn’t for the life of me figure it out until I took my favorite slacks to the new dry-cleaners which just opened up on my block a few weeks ago.
I entered the establishment and handed over my slacks to the well dressed gentleman behind the counter. He snatched them from my hands and handed them over to another employee holding a large pair of scissors who then proceeded to cut them into pieces. I started to protest but the well dressed gentleman just pointed to the sign above the counter:
Carlo Pietro’s Fractional Reserve Dry-Cleaning
He explained that due to the influence of the powerful dry-cleaners lobby, they were now legally able to immediately cut every garment into 10-15 pieces, sell the customer back ONE piece, and sell the rest of them back to the public at a considerable markup. He continued to explain that customers would then eventually bring THOSE garment pieces back to his shop where they could then cut them into even SMALLER pieces and sell them again at the same cost.
”But people are running out of clothes!” I exclaimed, “Don’t they realize that their wardrobes are being reduced to tattered and torn scraps of fabric which barely cover their naked bodies?”
"On the contrary, people have bigger wardrobes than they have ever had, it’s just not in their closet anymore, it’s in the palms of their hands. Download our free app for your smart phone and you’ll see how easy wardrobe management can be! Get ‘dressed’ in flash with just the push of an invisible button! ’Share’ your clothing with friends and family through text and email! Post your ‘outfit’ on the social networking sites to let everyone know what you are wearing today! In fact, some people just forgo the scraps of clothing altogether and just have it credited to their e-wardrobe account. This IS 2013, you know!”
Another customer entered the shop and he was naked except for dress shoes and a top hat. He walked up to me and showed me the screen of his smart phone which assured me that he was, in fact, dressed in a tuxedo. ”Is my cummerbund ready yet? I’m on my way to a wedding.”
The well dressed gentleman produced a tiny scrap of fabric no bigger than a fingernail. ”Here you are, sir…and I’ll just update your outfit on our server…(click, click, click)…and your all set!” The naked man in a virtual tuxedo thanked him and left the shop for his wedding.
"So why are YOU dressed in REAL clothes and the rest of us have walk around half nude in scraps and contend with these expensive and non existent virtual e-clothes?” I asked.
At this, the well dressed gentleman just laughed and laughed and laughed…
Today’s scene is from Elia Kazan’s longshoreman-favorite “On the Waterfront”. Interesting side-note: Parts of this classic 1954 film were actually filmed on a real waterfront!
TERRY: It not him! It you Charley. You and Johnny. As a the night youse like the two in the dressing room and said, ‘Your Children, this aint your night - we’ in order to Wilson price on to. ‘It aint me that night. I will be that night, separate Wilson! I was prepared - I recall that threw their first round. So what is happening in the bum Wilson he ballpark in the outdoor title by shooting - ! - and what do I have to do - to several bucks and a one-way tickets to Palookaville. (More arousing when he makes it renewable) It you Charley. You was my brother. You should watch out. Rather than make me them for the short - End money diving.
CHARLEY: (defense) and I always have a bet? Look for you. You see some money.
TERRY: Trouble to see! You don’t know!
CHARLEY: Try and strong, and the good deeds of your save.
TERRY: You do not know! I may be a competitor. I might have a class and a person. Real class. Instead of 2 rice, and we face it, is what I was. It is you, Charley.
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