You are now Jake English and wow are you happy you managed to snatch up the last copy of National Treasure! Strider’ll give you hell for it, as always, but you’ll just tell him to shove his overly critical noggin right up his rear end! Nic Cage is fucking majestic and that’s really all there is to say on the matter.
Oh someone else is here—where are your manners? You turn and stare at a blue-eyed bespectacled man with wild hair and large teeth, getting the nagging impression that he looks familiar. A bit like you, in fact.
And oh Christ cakes, he’s staring. Well this is fucking awkward. You smile and try to start up a conversation.
“So…you like National Treasure too?” you flourish the case. He hasn’t moved. He’s just staring. Welp, “It’s one of my favorite films, a real landmark for cinema. Of course, to be fair, a lot of movies are landmarks for cinema—haven’t seen a bad one yet! Speaking of landmarks, have you seen Avatar? Oh hell, that’s one of my favorites.”
Thankfully, he seems to collect himself in the middle of your tirade, “Uh…no. Avatar’s kind of a piece of shit, dude.”
You blanch, “What? Are you pulling my leg!?”
“No, I’m serious. It’s just a bunch of shitty blue people running around the plot of one thousand other films. I mean, I love bad movies as much as the next guy, but I’ve got some standards.”
“I’ll have you know that there is nothing shitty about the Na'vi! There is not a woman alive who can rival Neytiri’s cerulean complexion.”
He snickers, “She was kind of hot, I’ll give you that. But weird ponytail sex?”
Okay that makes you laugh. As you do, you notice his eyes flicker towards the National Treasure in your hands. You tap it against your fingers.
“Oh hey,” he starts. He’s biting his lip a bit, “Are you renting that?”
“I was going to.”
“Oh.”
“Did you want to rent it? There’s a wide selection, I’m sure I could get my hands on something else.”
“Oh no. You got here first, uh.”
He looks weird, nervous. Like he wants to ask something.
==> John: Be the other guy (FILL: TEAM BRO<3GRANDPA)
Oh someone else is here—where are your manners? You turn and stare at a blue-eyed bespectacled man with wild hair and large teeth, getting the nagging impression that he looks familiar. A bit like you, in fact.
And oh Christ cakes, he’s staring. Well this is fucking awkward. You smile and try to start up a conversation.
“So…you like National Treasure too?” you flourish the case. He hasn’t moved. He’s just staring. Welp, “It’s one of my favorite films, a real landmark for cinema. Of course, to be fair, a lot of movies are landmarks for cinema—haven’t seen a bad one yet! Speaking of landmarks, have you seen Avatar? Oh hell, that’s one of my favorites.”
Thankfully, he seems to collect himself in the middle of your tirade, “Uh…no. Avatar’s kind of a piece of shit, dude.”
You blanch, “What? Are you pulling my leg!?”
“No, I’m serious. It’s just a bunch of shitty blue people running around the plot of one thousand other films. I mean, I love bad movies as much as the next guy, but I’ve got some standards.”
“I’ll have you know that there is nothing shitty about the Na'vi! There is not a woman alive who can rival Neytiri’s cerulean complexion.”
He snickers, “She was kind of hot, I’ll give you that. But weird ponytail sex?”
Okay that makes you laugh. As you do, you notice his eyes flicker towards the National Treasure in your hands. You tap it against your fingers.
“Oh hey,” he starts. He’s biting his lip a bit, “Are you renting that?”
“I was going to.”
“Oh.”
“Did you want to rent it? There’s a wide selection, I’m sure I could get my hands on something else.”
“Oh no. You got here first, uh.”
He looks weird, nervous. Like he wants to ask something.
>John: Ask something