Pathfinder and a Metalocalypse Short
Apr. 14th, 2007 05:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsBrian and I went and saw Pathfinder today. I made the mistake of being very excited for this movie for two reasons. 1) VIKINGS! I love me some Vikings. And 2) Rated R for STRONG, BRUTAL VIOLENCE THROUGHOUT. I didn't expect a whole lot of historical accuracy or any real plot. And yet I was still bitterly disappointed. So I, er, wrote what I figure would have been Dethklok's reaction to this mess.
Title: Dat Movie Was Dildos
Rating: PG-13 for Murderface, language, brutality
Pairing: None!
Word Count: 1387
What de hell was dat?!”
Skwisgaar burst out of the door leading to the local cineplex and proceeded to kick over a half-full garbage can waiting to receive any trash that few movie goers were ever kind enough to actually carry out. Bits of stale popcorn scattered across the floor and a small puddle of warm Mountain Dew formed on the tiles after the lid popped off a fallen cup. The blond guitarist slammed the toe of his boot once more into the side of the fallen receptacle and then glared at it when it didn’t give him the satisfaction he wanted. “Dildos,” he muttered under his breath and leaned up against the wall to wait for his band mates, arms crossed and a combination of scowl and pout on his face.
Dethklok had, in a rare moment of complete agreement, decided to go to the movies that Friday afternoon. A couple of phone calls courtesy of their manager and they had the entire place to themselves so no dickweeds could interfere with their movie watching. The band had gone in and managed to terrorize half of the employees and send the other half into starry-eyed awe. Behaving as always, Toki and Nathan had hogged the Killzone 3 machine, Pickles had downed two of the seven or so bottles he was carrying with him and drunkenly cursed at the Ms. Pac-Man system, Murderface had – of course – pissed on that grabber game when he lost for the tenth time and then stabbed at the innocent machine until the glass broke and he got his stupid prize, and Skwisgaar had hopped over the counter, beckoned to the large variety of workers and then had an interesting time in the back room where they prepared most of the food. Thankfully there was only fifteen minutes for Dethklok to destroy before the theater got their desired movie up and ready.
They were there to see a movie that had promised – in the oft-quoted words of the trailer – ‘Strong, brutal violence THROUGHOUT.’ That was a rating earned for a reason right up Dethklok’s alley and it was with a heavy sense of anticipation that the band, shoving and arguing with each other, settled into the dimly lit theater as the screen flickered to life. Pathfinder was, or so the introduction to the movie went, a legend about Vikings coming to Canada 600 years before Columbus and how they were driven back by one of their own. A boy, called Ghost – That’sh jusht gay – had been shipwrecked there earlier with all of his people and their captives killed. Left with little but a sword, he’d been raised by the ‘People of the Dawn,’ a tribe of Native Americans. Something of an outcast, he was still well loved by his adopted family and in return he cared for them. Flashbacks revealed that his father had ordered him to kill a pair of very young tribal children – What de crap is dat about? Vikings woulds have kepts dem and used dem for labor, not killeds dem – and he had refused. As a result, his father had whipped him and denied him but there was little more of his past than that.
Eventually, more Vikings arrived and went on to kill his village. Another neighboring village, home of a girl he was attracted to and vice versa – Dood, she never said one word to tha guy. She’s like a douche bag groupie or somethin’ – found him and he told them to run. From there the plot basically became one of Ghost and his girlfriend setting traps for the Vikings, getting caught anyway, and ultimately managing to dispose of them. While there were a few scenes of decent brutality – Ripped Apart By Horses…good song title – most of the violence was dark and hard to see and there was, as Murderface griped frequently, a distinct lack of blood. And the ending, well the ending just saw all five jaws of the most brutal, metal band on the planet drop in sheer disbelief at how utterly LAME and not-metal and definitely NOT-BRUTAL it was. And then Skwisgaar, sitting on the end had stood up and directed two middle fingers at the screen.
“What de hell was dat?!”
He repeated his words again as Toki, shaking his head and muttering was the next out of the theater.
“Dat…dat was…Vikings is tough and brutal but dey is not likes dat. It was all WRONGS!”
The two Scandinavians exchanged an aggrieved look and Skwisgaar, having given up on kicking the trash, opted to aim for the wall instead. He gave it a nice hole and then another and he still wasn’t satisfied. “And how coulds dey lose like dat? Dat was complete dildos. I hates dis movie.”
“I know!” Murderface emerged, shaking his head in disgust. “Chahn you believe they had a schtupid pissh flail in the firsht moment of arrival? Vikingsh didn’t ushe flailsh and it wash far too fuckghing early for the time anyway. Moronsh didn’t do any reshearchging at all.”
“Oh dood, ya mean that mornin’ star t’ing?” Pickles shouldered Murderface out of the doorway and blinked owlishly in the light. The disgusting spectacle that had been the film had been so shockingly lame and pathetic that he’d only remembered to drink about half his stash, a problem he quickly moved to rectify. “Yeah, *gulp* I was wondrin’ about that m’self.”
“It’sh called a flail, Picklesh,” Murderface said, condescension clear in his voice. “Morning Schtars didn’t have a chgain and besidesh they didn’t ghet ushed much before 1000 A.D.”
“Whatevers it was, dat whole movie was wrong. Dey didn’t get much right ats all.” Toki added his own boot-shaped hole to the wall. “And dey is goings to give Vikings a bad reputation.”
“Dey died liked stupid pussies!” Skwisgaar shouted and grabbed a bottle from the drummer, taking a much-needed drink.
“I know.” Nathan rumbled in agreement, finally joining the rest of them. “And…where was…the..uh..the brutal violence through..uh out? Almost no good kills in the whole damn thing.”
“Just don’t gets any ideas Nathans,” Toki said after he studied Nathan's strong nose and black hair for a long moment. Pointing a warning finger at the singer, the rhythm guitarist shook his head in absolute disgust with the entire film. “Dose Indians didn’t do very well eithers.”
“Huh?” Nathan stared at the Norwegian cluelessly as behind him one of the more terrorized – and recovered enough to be irked about it – employees edged past him into the theater with a muttered “yeah, Tonto” that he didn’t hear.
“Dood, that’s true. That was the best freakin’ moment in th’ whole damn flick. Can’t believe they fell into the trap like that. Got effin’ slaughtered.”
“Ja, dat part was okay I guess.” Skwisgaar took another swallow of his stolen booze before he tossed the half-empty bottle on the ground. It shattered and moved in to mingle with the rest of the mess he’d made on the floor. Not like the Swede cared. He didn’t have to clean it up. “And de two times dey was torturings people was pretty metal but de rest of dat movie was crap.”
“Crap.”
“Crayp.”
“Not brutal!”
“It schertainly wash lacking in violent zazz.”
Once again in a strange confluence of agreement, the five very disappointed and rather pissed off members of the most brutal band on the planet decided to get the hell out of there, Toki chattering on to no one and everyone about how he wanted Ofdensen to sue the movie guys for “misrespereesentations.” The drummer, absently trailing a line of alcohol behind him from an uncapped bottle tucked under his arm, was busy arguing with the bassist about Viking weaponry and armor while Nathan listened and tossed in his occasional Pickles’ nickel worth. And as for Skwisgaar, the blond Swede led the way, irritation clear on his features as he fumbled through his pockets for a cigarette and a light. He paused at the door to get his nicotine fix lit, his band members shuffling out ahead of him. All he had were matches and he tossed his used one carelessly over his shoulder, right into the stream of booze Pickles had left. Needless to say, no one else in the vicinity of Mordhaus’ local theater ever had to suffer through the movie.
Title: Dat Movie Was Dildos
Rating: PG-13 for Murderface, language, brutality
Pairing: None!
Word Count: 1387
What de hell was dat?!”
Skwisgaar burst out of the door leading to the local cineplex and proceeded to kick over a half-full garbage can waiting to receive any trash that few movie goers were ever kind enough to actually carry out. Bits of stale popcorn scattered across the floor and a small puddle of warm Mountain Dew formed on the tiles after the lid popped off a fallen cup. The blond guitarist slammed the toe of his boot once more into the side of the fallen receptacle and then glared at it when it didn’t give him the satisfaction he wanted. “Dildos,” he muttered under his breath and leaned up against the wall to wait for his band mates, arms crossed and a combination of scowl and pout on his face.
Dethklok had, in a rare moment of complete agreement, decided to go to the movies that Friday afternoon. A couple of phone calls courtesy of their manager and they had the entire place to themselves so no dickweeds could interfere with their movie watching. The band had gone in and managed to terrorize half of the employees and send the other half into starry-eyed awe. Behaving as always, Toki and Nathan had hogged the Killzone 3 machine, Pickles had downed two of the seven or so bottles he was carrying with him and drunkenly cursed at the Ms. Pac-Man system, Murderface had – of course – pissed on that grabber game when he lost for the tenth time and then stabbed at the innocent machine until the glass broke and he got his stupid prize, and Skwisgaar had hopped over the counter, beckoned to the large variety of workers and then had an interesting time in the back room where they prepared most of the food. Thankfully there was only fifteen minutes for Dethklok to destroy before the theater got their desired movie up and ready.
They were there to see a movie that had promised – in the oft-quoted words of the trailer – ‘Strong, brutal violence THROUGHOUT.’ That was a rating earned for a reason right up Dethklok’s alley and it was with a heavy sense of anticipation that the band, shoving and arguing with each other, settled into the dimly lit theater as the screen flickered to life. Pathfinder was, or so the introduction to the movie went, a legend about Vikings coming to Canada 600 years before Columbus and how they were driven back by one of their own. A boy, called Ghost – That’sh jusht gay – had been shipwrecked there earlier with all of his people and their captives killed. Left with little but a sword, he’d been raised by the ‘People of the Dawn,’ a tribe of Native Americans. Something of an outcast, he was still well loved by his adopted family and in return he cared for them. Flashbacks revealed that his father had ordered him to kill a pair of very young tribal children – What de crap is dat about? Vikings woulds have kepts dem and used dem for labor, not killeds dem – and he had refused. As a result, his father had whipped him and denied him but there was little more of his past than that.
Eventually, more Vikings arrived and went on to kill his village. Another neighboring village, home of a girl he was attracted to and vice versa – Dood, she never said one word to tha guy. She’s like a douche bag groupie or somethin’ – found him and he told them to run. From there the plot basically became one of Ghost and his girlfriend setting traps for the Vikings, getting caught anyway, and ultimately managing to dispose of them. While there were a few scenes of decent brutality – Ripped Apart By Horses…good song title – most of the violence was dark and hard to see and there was, as Murderface griped frequently, a distinct lack of blood. And the ending, well the ending just saw all five jaws of the most brutal, metal band on the planet drop in sheer disbelief at how utterly LAME and not-metal and definitely NOT-BRUTAL it was. And then Skwisgaar, sitting on the end had stood up and directed two middle fingers at the screen.
“What de hell was dat?!”
He repeated his words again as Toki, shaking his head and muttering was the next out of the theater.
“Dat…dat was…Vikings is tough and brutal but dey is not likes dat. It was all WRONGS!”
The two Scandinavians exchanged an aggrieved look and Skwisgaar, having given up on kicking the trash, opted to aim for the wall instead. He gave it a nice hole and then another and he still wasn’t satisfied. “And how coulds dey lose like dat? Dat was complete dildos. I hates dis movie.”
“I know!” Murderface emerged, shaking his head in disgust. “Chahn you believe they had a schtupid pissh flail in the firsht moment of arrival? Vikingsh didn’t ushe flailsh and it wash far too fuckghing early for the time anyway. Moronsh didn’t do any reshearchging at all.”
“Oh dood, ya mean that mornin’ star t’ing?” Pickles shouldered Murderface out of the doorway and blinked owlishly in the light. The disgusting spectacle that had been the film had been so shockingly lame and pathetic that he’d only remembered to drink about half his stash, a problem he quickly moved to rectify. “Yeah, *gulp* I was wondrin’ about that m’self.”
“It’sh called a flail, Picklesh,” Murderface said, condescension clear in his voice. “Morning Schtars didn’t have a chgain and besidesh they didn’t ghet ushed much before 1000 A.D.”
“Whatevers it was, dat whole movie was wrong. Dey didn’t get much right ats all.” Toki added his own boot-shaped hole to the wall. “And dey is goings to give Vikings a bad reputation.”
“Dey died liked stupid pussies!” Skwisgaar shouted and grabbed a bottle from the drummer, taking a much-needed drink.
“I know.” Nathan rumbled in agreement, finally joining the rest of them. “And…where was…the..uh..the brutal violence through..uh out? Almost no good kills in the whole damn thing.”
“Just don’t gets any ideas Nathans,” Toki said after he studied Nathan's strong nose and black hair for a long moment. Pointing a warning finger at the singer, the rhythm guitarist shook his head in absolute disgust with the entire film. “Dose Indians didn’t do very well eithers.”
“Huh?” Nathan stared at the Norwegian cluelessly as behind him one of the more terrorized – and recovered enough to be irked about it – employees edged past him into the theater with a muttered “yeah, Tonto” that he didn’t hear.
“Dood, that’s true. That was the best freakin’ moment in th’ whole damn flick. Can’t believe they fell into the trap like that. Got effin’ slaughtered.”
“Ja, dat part was okay I guess.” Skwisgaar took another swallow of his stolen booze before he tossed the half-empty bottle on the ground. It shattered and moved in to mingle with the rest of the mess he’d made on the floor. Not like the Swede cared. He didn’t have to clean it up. “And de two times dey was torturings people was pretty metal but de rest of dat movie was crap.”
“Crap.”
“Crayp.”
“Not brutal!”
“It schertainly wash lacking in violent zazz.”
Once again in a strange confluence of agreement, the five very disappointed and rather pissed off members of the most brutal band on the planet decided to get the hell out of there, Toki chattering on to no one and everyone about how he wanted Ofdensen to sue the movie guys for “misrespereesentations.” The drummer, absently trailing a line of alcohol behind him from an uncapped bottle tucked under his arm, was busy arguing with the bassist about Viking weaponry and armor while Nathan listened and tossed in his occasional Pickles’ nickel worth. And as for Skwisgaar, the blond Swede led the way, irritation clear on his features as he fumbled through his pockets for a cigarette and a light. He paused at the door to get his nicotine fix lit, his band members shuffling out ahead of him. All he had were matches and he tossed his used one carelessly over his shoulder, right into the stream of booze Pickles had left. Needless to say, no one else in the vicinity of Mordhaus’ local theater ever had to suffer through the movie.
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no subject
Date: 2007-04-15 03:02 am (UTC)If you care to explore further important works of Dildos Cinema, there is also Amazons and Gladiators, which at least has breasts.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-15 09:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-15 11:40 pm (UTC)