Did you catch what I did there in the title of this post? Did you? HMM? I’ll let it in sink if for a minute before I continue. I would never at all consider myself to be a smart one but I think that’s called an “acrostic’. Maybe. I think.
The image above is from this movie and represents a group of men considering my sentence at a trial to determine if I used the word acrostic correctly. It’s not really my trial but it is the trial of a man who looks like the ghost of the guy who played Slartibartfast who is apparently in trouble for murdering some people. This movie claims to have come out in 2018 and thus it is chronologically before everyone started shutting down everything but no one is at this trial of this person who killed all of these people. No one, that is, except for these people up in some sort of balcony or veranda and they keep grimacing and waving their heads around like they’re upset at some tennis match or something and I immediately hated everywhere this movie was going. But, here we are and the killer person guy represents himself and gets off scott fucking free because the cop in charge failed to read him his English rights or something. Maybe he was fucking the queen or some shit but he’s free and these guys seem like they’re supposed to be angry so – even though he’s killed all these people all over the English countryside, they find him sitting at home one afternoon by himself, tie him to a tree and shoot him. POP POP POP go the terrible sound effects and then he’s deader than fuck.
“We must never speak of this to anyone as long as we draw breath,” says one of them very solemnly, with his bad teeth and, presumably, bad breath.
“For the queen!” the others agree and draw out their swords, swearing an oath to The Realm.
A couple of hours later, I think, one of them is so fucking upset he goes out into the woods and blows his own brains out because he just can’t keep that secret inside him any longer, burning his guts to pieces like some sort of rotten flounder. Fortunately for Halloween Jack, the suicide happens right over his shitty hole in the ground burial place that must be only three inches deep since the blood seeps in and he’s brought back to life. “Hurrah and jolly good!” He proclaims but no one is anywhere nearby and his old buddies think he’s dead because they murdered him and even if someone was around they probably couldn’t understand him because he’s been resurrected and, for some fucking reason, looks like this:
Here’s another one where he’s walking into a toilet or, I guess, a loo. I don’t really remember why he’s got a noose around his neck since they shot him to death but that’s probably my fault, I’m sure.
You know, that actually might have been when he goes to get revenge on the dead guy who killed him’s mother even though, I would think, he would be grateful for being given that dude’s blood and bringing him back to life but, nope. Show some fucking thanks. Seeing how old he must have been earlier in this film, he’s probably an older Gen X like me but that shouldn’t make him such a greedy asshole. “Give me your blood and I’ll kill your mum!” Maybe he’s a Gen Y and I’ve just aged better than he did. I’ve always felt I’ve never gone gray like my friends because I had red hair when I was a kid. I don’t know and I gave up caring about ten minutes into this thing.
Did you ever figure out my word puzzle or did you forget after two minutes on here? I really do understand if you did and that’s OK. I’ll give it up to you now:
Englishman Attempting To Single Handedly Irritate Thoroughly
Get it? E.A.T.S.H.I.T. HAHAHA ohgoddamn I’m clever. I know, I’m not but here we are, huddled together in the hay ride at the fall fair on a wagon, rolling through the pumpkin patch. The leaves are falling and someone’s dressed like a mummy and going “uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh uuuuuuhhhhhhhh” and their arms are out straight like one of those animals on the side of the road that went tits up and the moon is coming up and maybe there’s some bats and hopefully they don’t have The Rona and further down the trail someone’s peddling yams and that weird corn on the cob with black kernels in it and maybe we see a fox or something similar run into the tall grass and then Old Fucking Halloween Jack trots by with his shitsucking scythe and he heads into some nearby building for some reason and then this other guy walks in too and he’s carrying a gas can and you can’t see it because you’re outside in a wagon but you can imagine that some Englishman threatens Halloween Jack by pouring gas on the floor and then he must light a cigarette or something because the entire place goes up in flames like Mount Fucking Vesuvius and everyone’s good and dead and this nightmare is over finally and then you go looking through the pics you downloaded for this amazing post and you see this and lose all hope because, by god and his apostles, there’s a motherfucking sequel:
I have absolutely no idea how that could have come about unless this is all self financed and maybe it is and good for them but I doubt I get to it any time soon. It looks like the only place I can watch it is on something called Plex and that would require work on my part and I’m NOT paying for ANOTHER streaming service so that one will just have to wait. By all means there will be another E.A.T.S.H.I.T. movie coming our way but I don’t know if it will have Halloween Jack in it. I mean, if I were to go back and re-categorize things, which I’m too lazy to do, I would totally put that horrible Neil Marshall movie in here. This particular movie really sucked it.
FILED UNDER: WORSE THAN THE DRAFT BEER SHITS
Actually, because I’m proud of myself, I’m going to make a new category and call it E.A.T.S.H.I.T
YAY me! I win! But, I probably don’t.