Tuesday, 3 March 2015

Dawn of the Grin

After months and months of chiseling away at a sculpture more significant than Michelangelo's statue of David, the sequel to Night of the Living Smirk is finally here.

Expect connections to rage and reaction to take centre stage.

Like Cole Porter's famous musical - Anything Goes.

Subject 1. Losing my hand was inconvenient but happiness is a warm chainsaw.  All labour and no carnage makes Ash a boring chin.  Redrum is bound to pull clear in the 12.15 at Overlook.  Deadites? What a bunch of bastards. 

Subject 2. Are you out of your fucking mind? That donkey is sure to fall at the first furlong. If prediction doesn't come to fruition, I'll drink Lloyd's bourbon.  Where's my wallet? Of course, how Room 237 of me. DAAAANNNNNYYYYYY!!!!!

Subject 1. If you really want to boogie woogie with adamantium by the bright sunlight, take on me.

Subject 2. Rastania is populated with unconvincing denizens and delirious dementia. Why does this ridiculous looking gauntlet reek of mechanical piscine? Who in Darius knows?

Subject 1. Do you wanna know why I wear this mask?  It's not that my father... was... a drinker, and a fiend, but because I'm that ugly; mirrors would rather commit suicide than suffer the indignity of casting reflection.  Yodel-lay-hee-hoo!

Subject 2. Thanks to the corruption of opium, your skills are extraordinary.  You have offended my family and you have offended the Shaolin Temple.  Despite claw made of rubber, there's no need to blubber.

Subject 1. I've just played a particularly dirty tune on Mona's sax and she fucking loved it. To erase the necessity of activating bullet time, Chief Mendez recommends painkillers with extra codeine.

Subject 2. Humph! You'll be pleased to know the result of a desperate grope and meaningless fumble in a godless universe is syphilis.  Oh didn't you know? That whore's phwoar door is more contagious than the bubonic plague.  Why not celebrate by sticking Las Plaga up one's ass as the Los Illuminados say it's a great aphrodisiac.

Something big is going down and this ain't no toy story.
Despite what the movie says, it's 'Houston, we've had a problem', not 'we have a problem'.
One more thing.  WILLLLLLSSSSSSON!

Subject 1. This is Commissioner Gordon.  Any animal, vegetable or mineral who accuses SNK of ripping off Edi.E will be bound, gagged and taken to a remote spot in South Town for Mr. Big to do wicked things with batons.

Subject 2. Comrade, my strength is far greater than yours and that thing on your chest doesn't intimidate.  I would celebrate in the appropriate Russian fashion but that clueless git Gorbachev got himself lost en route to Thailand.

Subject 1. That luscious tan and ruby lips are turning this good guy on.  Marry dungarees to instigate sexageddon.

Subject 2. Do I look like easy porcelain?  Well maybe so, and pigtails can't be choosers. If you finish before I wake, leave your soul on top of cake.

Subject 1. I'll cut your bloody throat, you fucking wanker! Up yours asshole! You ain't worth a toss!

Subject 2. YOU LIMEY SCUMBAG! Get on the floor and give me fifty or downing Tango and earning Cash will become your own personal world of shit.

Subject 1. Electric shock treatment? I guess we're in a for a long night 'cause I don't know shit, oh well.

Subject 2. You want me repeat the combat zen speech?  What the hell's the matter with you? Okay, this is a sport of death and honour, Code of the Gladiators!

Whoah, you're just kidding, right?
C'mon man, after all we've been through?
Put an empty chamber in that gun.  It's gonna be alright.
You slap me once more and I'll... MAO!
Is this what you want? I love you Nicky.
I hear all kinds of bullshit every day but my son a demon takes the V/H/S.
(But Papa, it's true).
Great, let's go for a pint.
Jesus wept guys.  I'm hooked, without line, or sinker.
I stab him, she stabs me, we're a happy family.
Hey Commodus, do my killer combos and incredible rhythm get a thumbs up?
Yeah mon!
Okay, fancy maxing out maracas ahead of Sobat Festival?

Obviously the proposition was misconstrued.

Subject 1. Let me introduce myself.  The name's King, Don King.  I'm a crooked, thieving, ruthless twat who like a prostitute - screws people for money.

Subject 2. Well I suppose everybody's got their problems.  If you have an iota of human feeling, pass me some spermatozoon as that baby's driving me nuts, I can't fucking stand it.

Why is mimetic poly-alloy looking so glum?

Oh yeah, Shuko and Double Dragon.

Never mind pal, remember your cameo in Wayne's World?

Have you seen this boy?
No I haven't, but hope (whoever the hell he is) turns up soon.

Subject 1. Stuff the fight, Sheng Long and dragon punching waterfalls.  Caterpillars are everything.

Subject 2. Look at you.  Pathetic! Ken may be a vanilla flavoured toss piece but at least Eliza blows his wonder whistle more times than a card happy referee.  Now toddle off and walk towards sunset - there's a good little loser.

Meet Guy Kazama - the Last Alert for humanity.
Or if you like, the PC Engine on Red Alert.
Note to Last Ninja Remix.  Must shave monobrow.

Subject 1. Okay girl.  No bullshit - you wanna kill yer' self?

Subject 2. (Oh for Christ's sake)...




Subject 2. WELL, WHAT D'YER WANNA HEAR, MAN?  Do wanna hear that soon after solving the box I got fingered by a cenobite?

Ouch! Missing the pink and potting the brown is always grim.
Demons to some, angels to others?
My fucking ass!
Dead or alive, I want to be a leaf.
Must scoff pizza and stick head down a toilet... 
Yes, skiing down this cleavage is something I could get used to.

Subject 1. I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could run a switchblade romance.

Subject 2. Certainly not! Don't be disgusting! Singlehandedly bringing the city of San Francisco to its knees is the passion of fashion.  Stop messing about.  Oooooh Matron!

Subject 1. No, no way and never.  I'd rather have tonsils tickled with razor wire coated with sulphuric acid than snog 'that'.

Subject 2. Don't flatter yourself darling.  Sgt. Pembry's cheek is far more appetising but there's always room to have an old friend for dinner.

Great Scott Marty!
Even without the Earth's gravitational pull, this shit is heavy. 
Haggis?  Sheep's stomach stuffed with meat and barley?
I'd rather unsheath MacLeod's pork sword as it has more 'oink' than a promiscuous pig.
I've always wondered why communication is wonkier than a misguided cock.
Pluto, do you read me? PLUTO?
Hillside cannibal could lend a sympathetic ear, but as I'm one nasty fuck, I'm delighted to say - you're shit out of luck.
Consumed by sexual inactivity, psychopathic hitchhiker John Ryder hires a smurf coloured genie in the hope of trimming any of five lady gardens.

Will the following chat-up line add cream to their cappuccino?

I've seen things you people you wouldn't believe.  Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion.  I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser gate.
All those... moments... will be lost in time, like (cough) tears... in... rain.
Time... to die. (Smiles).
Not knowing what the fuck he's talking about, they inappropriately respond.

'Possessing the mother to kill the child' was fun at first but 'kill the wife and screw the husband' sounds more exciting.
Oh shit, that puddle in my knickers doesn't represent excitement...
Damn those smart price incontinence pads.
Just for that, I don't want your maggot - you lousy faggot.
Oh, you was hoping for me to taste something else?
Sorry handsome. This witch doesn't chew sausage - I'm a vagitarian.
No offence pal, but considering me and Amy from Fright Night 1985 didn't work out, these legs are unlikely to open sesame or spread like butter.
I'd suggest skidaddling pronto before urban myth shoves a large of scissors up where only customs officials dare to probe.
As you couldn't prevent Victor from stitching daft cow up, the chances of rolling my furry dice are definitely out.
After failing to realise the bonk of dreams, lay to remember or shag to savour, our man is understandably furious.

Whoah.  Calm down already.
Sorry about not firing cupid's arrow but I'm a genie, not a fucking miracle worker.
Picking up your dummy, what's next hobo with a peashooter?
(Whisper, whisper).
It's most irregular to grant a freebie but okay, just this once.
I must say old chap, flattening a fellow human being like a pancake is very therapeutic but because the back's giving me jip; I'm unable to satisfy suicidal lust.
Determined to end the doom and gloom by going boom.

You know what to do.  Squeeze the trigger.
The outcome is left ambiguous...

That is the smallest dick I have ever seen.
Be careful not to dip your rod in any given pond because anything desperate enough to take a bite will be wondering what they ate.
If pinky dwarfs trouser truncheon - that's entertainment.
Don't go squawking to the press as minimal inch is supposed be L.A. Confidential.
In the meantime, you're gonna need a bigger boat.
The merchandise (heroin) is good.  Tasty, smooth.
Hey shoot 'im.  Drop it prick! WHAT? SHOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM!
Shoot me! Shoot me! Shoot me!
You want this in your FACE? Grrrrr!!!!!
Pain and pleasure is difficult to measure but Brazil hides unknown treasure.
Well shock the bed, I love you watts and watts.
I'm going away now.  I'm going away everybody.
This is what happens if you're not... ECONOMICALLY VIABLE.

Subject 1: After taking a bath with Lush bombs, I wouldn't buy the result for tuppence, let alone a dollar.

Subject 2: In fairness, you always were an handsome bastard.  Boo to cheap aftershave and down with celestial angels of death.

All I wanna do is melt, melt, melt, melt into you.
Rocky Road? Heh Heh!
Hey you guys!
Break! Fall!
Dropped once, or maybe twice?
The Singing Detective's wife felt the brunt of unfriendly soda, meat feast pizzas, sweaty socks and depressed doughnuts.
If salivating over self-mutilation erects a certain monument - do me a Midian and Face/Off.
Without taking the piece, I believe my acting career is falling apart.
Join the fucking club.
Come on Cordell, feed me to bloodthirsty boars as it's the only way I'll forget about how truly ridiculous I looked as Count Dracula.
You're a human, same model as Bishop. Sent by the fucking company.
Not bad for a... Koopa.
Stasis interrupted, fire in cryogenic compartment, repeat, fire in cryogenic department.
Why kidnap Daisy? She dog, but Peach dirty, really filthy.
Would use Devo Gun to assassinate all condemned but don't have 6 AA batteries to power unnecessary hunk of junk.
Most desperados ring sex lines, but this leering sicko gets off watching muggins regurgitate strawberry flavoured cottage cheese.
Hurry up will ya? I'm running on empty.
That's it you dirty bitch, nearly there and YEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH, thar she blows.
With my tits and your tongue, the only way is south.
Come on baby, slam your ham into my traffic jam.
Gettin' Jiggy wit it.  Na na na na na na na nana.
Mondu-The-Fat doesn't usually fold easy, but in your case, Master of the Fight Pits is willing to make an exception.

Subject 1: Vicious rumours from the self proclaimed 'strongest woman in the world' has left Shadaloo reeling. For Christ's sake, I was a kid when I killed her dad.

Subject 2: Face it pal, Crapcon labelled pixels deranged from the very beginning and thunder thighs ain't the type of pussy to guzzle sour milk.  Before losing her memory, didn't psycho crusher once bone spiral arrow?  In which case, you don't deserve a pot to piss in.

Hoagie bear gorgeous pants.
You're about to 'not' get eaten by a rubber shark less convincing than Keanu Reeves' accent in Dracula and miraculously emerge drier than a hooker on the menopause.
In space, it's impossible to remain KHAAAAANNNN!!!!
The Beast is here so bring on the fear.
God is in his holy temple. In the pouring rain, very Kane.
Go into the light.  There is suffering and torment... in the light.
As for dark tequila, wouldn't wanna squeal yer'.
Lt. Boyle reporting for bludgeoning, Mr Hannibal Sir.
Before getting stuck in, can you at least stick on Goodbye Horses because Goldberg Variations tends to have me Baching up the wrong tree.
Casting McLovin wouldn't be just Superbad.
It'd be Megastupid, Extremelydim and Simplyidiotic.
Master, your thoughts on the performance of replacement bloodsucker Colin Farrell?
I despise unnecessary remakes of seminal classics.  I FUCKING HATE 'EM.
Hmmm, the name rings a crucifix but isn't yet shedding sunlight.
Give me an hour and I'm sure to have Total Recall.
Boys have a penis, girls have a vagina.
Contrary to popular belief, listening to that incessant rambling is the reason I became a scalp happy, serial killing maniac.

Subject 1: Julia asked for skin so like any asshole, I gave her open palm a gentle slap.  She then shoved me inside an elevator where a horrific transformation took place.  Then this fucking worm thing drilled a hole into my skull, summing up a fabulous day.  And to think, I hesitated (about dumping her).

Subject 2: I guess the bitch got up on the wrong side of the mattress.  Mission start.  Heavy machine gun.  Full metal slug.

Subject 1: Me Koba.  Me ape.  You Eliminator.  You pain in character zapping ass. Caesar king and deadbeat (signed).

Subject 2: We need emotional content.  Don't think! Feeeeelll! (Rebecca's hooters).  It is like a finger (leech) pointing away to the moon (here comes the sun).  Don't concentrate on the finger or you will miss all the heavenly (hellish) glory.  Do you understand? (Billy shakes head).  Never take your eyes off your opponent even when you bow.

Instead of eating a scabby horse, they choose...

(Dog and bone)
I'm pure Filth and a dirty degenerate low-life.

How I've made it large in Hollywood is shameless.
I gonna make you feel the impact (OF MY SOUL).
Feel the impact.  Feel f-eel f-eel the impact.  F-f-f-f-f-f-eel feel feel the impact.
Marigolds are so last year, cotton makes skin crawl, plastic has a crude texture but leather renders viagra redundant.
The experience of doves inspired a different pair of wings.
Max is happy to demonstrate his hobby of eating the pussy.
Cicada are supposed to be more nutritious than grasshoppers.
Bullshit! That's the last time I listen to that asshole Lemarchand.
(Ear he goes)
(Listen baby, I need something to go with nose and like it or not, my gnashers are going to help me the fuck out).
If only Mikey boy had visited Sergeant Scott's World of Listening Tackle.

From big or small to cute and cuddly, we've got lobes and cartilage covered; and a steal at three for a fiver or six for tenner.
Terms and conditions apply:
While stocks last.  Cannot be used in conjunction with any other offer ( BOGOF etc), and not open to expendables.
Before signing off, Chet Pussy has something to exclaim.

Day will eventually conclude matters.

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