“So this isn’t caving. This is an ego trip!”
Justin’s rating: I’m a bald bunny, ain’t got no fur. I’m a bald bunny, brr brr brr.
Justin’s review: Although I know I recently swore off modern horror movies in a cleansing hissy-fit, I kept hearing way too much about how good The Descent was to pass it up. Every time I’d see it at a store, video rental section or on the shampoo rack in my shower, my eyes would perk up and we’d then have a lovely conversation:
THE DESCENT: Watch me.
ME: Please don’t do this when I’m washing my naughty bits.
THE DESCENT: Watch me! I command you!
ME: But… but you look pretty scary! And I routinely check under my bed, in all three of the closets and in the dryer for any lurking scary creatures! I don’t think I could handle you. I also scream like a girl and I have to explain that to the neighbors.
THE DESCENT: But I’m acclaimed! People rant and rave about how awesome I am!
ME: There’s a picture of a girl surfacing from what appears to be a pool of blood. On your cover. And she doesn’t look happy about it — blood stains, you know.
THE DESCENT: You have to admit, I’ve got a pretty good premise – six athletic girls who go spelunking in an unexplored cave, only to find true terror in the dark.
ME: That’s why you always stock up on Level 0 Light cantrips.
THE DESCENT: Dungeons & Dragons jokes will not get you far with me, buster.
ME: Sorry. It’s just… I have a thing about claustrophobia. And the dark. And critters who frolic in the dark like it’s recess at Horror Junior High. Once, in college, one of my friends hid under my bed and waited until I came in the room and went to sleep. Do you know what the average human reaction is to an arm coming up from under the bed to grab you while you’re drifting off into sleep?
THE DESCENT: Oh, [bleep], man!
ME: Pee everywhere.
THE DESCENT: If hot, toned women squeezing through tight places won’t get you to watch me, I know what will.
MY WIFE: Honey, who are you talking to in the shower?
THE DESCENT: Who’s that? I will devour her alive and turn her soul into chaff!
ME: I highly doubt it. That woman’s survived 16 car accidents. Sixteen. She’s like the Terminator with PMS privileges.
THE DESCENT: Eek. Anyway, I know how to get you to see me. Guess who the director is? That’s right, Neil Marshall.
THE DESCENT: *sigh* He directed Dog Soldiers, remember? I even made a clickable link back there so you can re-read your review.
ME: [checking it out] I’m so eloquent with prose… Neil Marshall, huh? I really did love Dog Soldiers! That was cool! There is no spoon, ha ha!
THE DESCENT: Quiet! So… we have a date?
ME: Well, I will if you promise me something.
THE DESCENT: Make it quick. I’m getting prune fingers.
ME: Can you lighten up on the scares, just for me? Like edit yourself so that bright happy Care Bear decals will cover up the worst stuff? Or flash a warning on the screen to “Cover Your Eyes” before the hellspawn begin their filthy feast?
THE DESCENT: Sure. Fine. Whatever. heh heh. HA-HA. WHOA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
ME: The evil laughter is not reassuring.
THE DESCENT: And when you’re done and cowering in a corner, sucking on your thumb, don’t forget to tell your readers that I’m a wild trip down a road never before traveled in the horror circuit.
ME: What about The Cave? Didn’t that just come out, like, a year ago?
THE DESCENT: Shut up. He’s been disowned by the family, and we shall never speak of him again.
ME: So… do you want me to wash your back, or what?