Any particular movie you have in mind, or just a general cinema/theatre? :)
At the movies Elsewhere in Sixticton Joyce and Albert Grunfeld were looking at a dilapidated pig sty. There was a reasonably dilapidated pig sat outside it who was looking back at them as though daring them to try moving her. The wind soughed gently through the branches of the trees that formed a wind-break at the edge of the field, and there was a crispness to the air that suggested that the weather might be thinking about snowing soon. "Are you sure this was what we used last year?" said Joyce. She poked at the sty's roof -- a piece of corrugated iron sheet weighed down at the corners with grey-white rocks. "I mean, this seems more grotty than grotto." "Has to be," said Albert, though in the back of his mind he had his doubts. However, he'd been married to Joyce for nearly thirty years and was deeply fed up of her desire to be always right and was unwilling to admit he might have misremembered. "There's nowhere else we could have used." "Not the old cow-shed?" asked Joyce, so innocently that Albert guessed immediately that she thought she was right. His determination solidified like water condensing into ice. "Definitely not," he said. "The floor in there's unsound, I've been meaning to take it down and move it for months now. Wouldn't want to let the kids walk in there and see Santa disappear into the ground in a rush of sawdust and wood-fragments, would we?" "That would be bad," allowed Joyce. The way she pressed her lips together suggested that she wasn't going to give this one up. "Though I think I have seen something like that at the movies -- Home Alone? Home Atonement? Home Improvement? Something like that. But I was in there myself only yesterday an--" "That's dangerous," said Albert as fast as he could. "I wouldn't have know you were missing, nor where to look for you when you'd not come back for breakfast. Hell, I could have gone to the movies wondering all the while where you were. You can't be going in there again until I've got it sorted. Maybe we should leave the grotto for the moment and I'll fix the barn floor first." "I was in there before lunch," said Joyce. She hated being interrupted. "We can't not do the grotto now, we need to have it available for the start of December. You know that the new vineyard owner is planning on doing one this year too. There's going to be competition. And you'd go to the movies without me?" "Well, maybe," said Albert with just a hint of smugness, "But I guess we'd better get on with working out how to make this the best little grotto there is then." The pig watched as Joyce glowered at him, trying to figure out how she had lost an argument she'd been very careful not to have. Finally she said, "He did say as how he had a new idea for Santa." "Aye," said Albert "The boys at the firehouse were saying that he's going to combine the legend of the Fisher King with Santa. Sounds like a bad idea to me, but that's just my two cents worth." "The legend of the what?" "The Fisher King," said Albert. "King of the land, got a wound in his side that's bleeding all the time. Dies in winter, is born again in Spring, in tune with the seasons. Fairly common among vintners and other folks that depend on seasonal crops." The pig snorted and Joyce looked worried. "I did hear he's being asking around about the skinny thug," she said. "Like, asking if he wants to be Santa." "Can't think of a nicer guy to bleed out in a vineyard," said Albert. "What say we dress Molly the pig here up as an elf? Save me finding her a new bed?"
Greg - I think I was partway through watching Once Upon A Time In Hollywood when I came up with this one.
These two seem like quite the pair. I almost feel sorry for Molly. I'd feel sorry for the skinny thug as well but honestly that's likely a better death than he could otherwise expect...
2 comments:
Any particular movie you have in mind, or just a general cinema/theatre? :)
At the movies
Elsewhere in Sixticton Joyce and Albert Grunfeld were looking at a dilapidated pig sty. There was a reasonably dilapidated pig sat outside it who was looking back at them as though daring them to try moving her. The wind soughed gently through the branches of the trees that formed a wind-break at the edge of the field, and there was a crispness to the air that suggested that the weather might be thinking about snowing soon.
"Are you sure this was what we used last year?" said Joyce. She poked at the sty's roof -- a piece of corrugated iron sheet weighed down at the corners with grey-white rocks. "I mean, this seems more grotty than grotto."
"Has to be," said Albert, though in the back of his mind he had his doubts. However, he'd been married to Joyce for nearly thirty years and was deeply fed up of her desire to be always right and was unwilling to admit he might have misremembered. "There's nowhere else we could have used."
"Not the old cow-shed?" asked Joyce, so innocently that Albert guessed immediately that she thought she was right. His determination solidified like water condensing into ice.
"Definitely not," he said. "The floor in there's unsound, I've been meaning to take it down and move it for months now. Wouldn't want to let the kids walk in there and see Santa disappear into the ground in a rush of sawdust and wood-fragments, would we?"
"That would be bad," allowed Joyce. The way she pressed her lips together suggested that she wasn't going to give this one up. "Though I think I have seen something like that at the movies -- Home Alone? Home Atonement? Home Improvement? Something like that. But I was in there myself only yesterday an--"
"That's dangerous," said Albert as fast as he could. "I wouldn't have know you were missing, nor where to look for you when you'd not come back for breakfast. Hell, I could have gone to the movies wondering all the while where you were. You can't be going in there again until I've got it sorted. Maybe we should leave the grotto for the moment and I'll fix the barn floor first."
"I was in there before lunch," said Joyce. She hated being interrupted. "We can't not do the grotto now, we need to have it available for the start of December. You know that the new vineyard owner is planning on doing one this year too. There's going to be competition. And you'd go to the movies without me?"
"Well, maybe," said Albert with just a hint of smugness, "But I guess we'd better get on with working out how to make this the best little grotto there is then."
The pig watched as Joyce glowered at him, trying to figure out how she had lost an argument she'd been very careful not to have. Finally she said, "He did say as how he had a new idea for Santa."
"Aye," said Albert "The boys at the firehouse were saying that he's going to combine the legend of the Fisher King with Santa. Sounds like a bad idea to me, but that's just my two cents worth."
"The legend of the what?"
"The Fisher King," said Albert. "King of the land, got a wound in his side that's bleeding all the time. Dies in winter, is born again in Spring, in tune with the seasons. Fairly common among vintners and other folks that depend on seasonal crops."
The pig snorted and Joyce looked worried.
"I did hear he's being asking around about the skinny thug," she said. "Like, asking if he wants to be Santa."
"Can't think of a nicer guy to bleed out in a vineyard," said Albert. "What say we dress Molly the pig here up as an elf? Save me finding her a new bed?"
Greg - I think I was partway through watching Once Upon A Time In Hollywood when I came up with this one.
These two seem like quite the pair. I almost feel sorry for Molly. I'd feel sorry for the skinny thug as well but honestly that's likely a better death than he could otherwise expect...
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