Parallels

PART 1 

Slinking through the collapsing wooden doorway, I scan the office for any signs of life. Unfortunately, I find my whale of a boss wedged into his office chair, a bottle of Smirnoff in one hand and a TPS report in the other—my TPS report. I had forgotten the mandatory cover sheet.

Struggling out of his chair, Mr. Andrei passes for a few breaths, and then oozes in my direction. Instinctively, I take a step back. Seeing this, Mr. Andrei flies into a rage reminiscent of a drunken polar bear in full seizure, spewing vodka and Russian profanities. A half-empty bottle of Smirnoff zings past my head as I dive behind a nearby chair.

Mr. Andrei, reaching a bloated hand across the desk for another projectile, topples violently back into his chair as his knee blows out like the side of an old used tire. Barking like a walrus, he rips open one of the drawers, revealing an impossible amount of empty vodka bottles. Scooping one up in his meaty paw, he lets fly a second projectile.

Unfortunately for the gorgeous intern passing his door, Andrei’s aim is a keen as his sense of fashion, ruining any chance for her modeling career. I peer over the back of the chair with all the courage of a church mouse.

“So I guess now’s a bad time to ask about that raise?”




Part 2 

Striding through the sleek, modern door, I find my boss surveying the surrounding city through his floor to ceiling glass. Sensing my presence, he swivels to great me. Clean cut, handsome, and tailored, he extends his arm to shake my hand. In his other hand, he holds a TPS report—my TPS report. I had forgotten the mandatory cover sheet.

Gesturing towards his desk, he escorts me to a seat before taking his place in his glorious office chair. He informs me in his thick German accent that, while I did make a mistake on my report, it’s the first I’ve ever made in my four years of working here. He kindly reminds me that a cover sheet is mandatory, but confesses that even he doesn’t understand the point of them.

After that he goes on to talk about how much he enjoys golf and the upcoming tournament he’s going to be participating in. He even invites me to play with him sometime. I confess that I’ve never played golf in my life but he insists. I congratulate him on the dozens of trophies proudly displayed on the wall behind him and let him know that I should probably get back to work.

Impressed by my dedication to the job, he hints that it might be time for a raise. I chuckle and head for the door, but on second thought turn and ask,

“Were you serious about that raise?”

Just One of Those Days

Screaming around the corner in my Aston Martin DBS, I reach for the .45 in my glovebox. I unleash a hail of bullets through my rear window, expertly dispatching the wave of ninjas on bullet bikes pursuing me. Three down, a million to go. The wave just kept growing, crashing closer and closer to me with every passing moment. Ninjas pour out of every doorway, window, storm drain, and manhole. A cluster of shurikens tear past my head and imbed themselves in my windshield. Cursing under my breath, I punch the gas, aiming for the rising drawbridge up ahead. 

I suddenly remember the emergency supermodels I keep in my trunk and hope they haven’t been turned into swiss cheese. I also remember that I’m incredibly hungry from all the ninja fighting. Tapping a few buttons on my GPS, it flips around to reveal my secret sandwich compartment. Turkey and swiss, my favorite. Taking a bite out of the sandwich,  I grab a Monster from underneath my seat, tear the top off with my teeth, and chug it down. Satisfied, I concentrate on the looming drawbridge. I need to gain more speed to make the up coming jump, so I eject the supermodels from the back. 

“Sorry, Ladies. Maybe some other time.” 

I blow through the gate, race up the bridge, and make like The Dukes Of Hazzard. As I soar over the chasm, the oil tanker passing underneath the bridge spontaneously combusts, punctuating my escape. Blowing through the fire and flame, I come to a strange realization. My toes are wet. Wait, why are my toes wet?

My right eye pops open to reveal the answer. Chuckles, my Saint Bernard, is furiously licking my toes, signaling that he needs to be let out. I roll over in my bed, glancing at the cheap, plastic alarm clock that sits on my bedside table. 8:40. Jerking up in bed and kicking my dog in the process, my heart sinks. I was supposed to be at work at 7:45 this morning.

I fly out of bed, sprint down the hall, and leap into the Chinese prison cell I call a shower. I attempt to shower and eat the Pop-Tart I grabbed from the kitchen on my way over here at the same time. Two minutes later, I sprint back down the hallway, scrounge a dress shirt and “casual” slacks from my bed room, and explode out the door. 

Twenty minutes later, I park my Ford Pinto in front of my work and race inside, expecting to find my oddly sweaty boss waiting for me. There’s no sign of him anywhere, however. Maybe this will turn out to be my lucky day. 

I try to rush past the front desk in an effort to avoid “Chief Receptionist Officer” Mildred. A fine spray of Starbuck’s Mocha Java moistens my face as she sputters out some sort of an insult of me, my family, friends, or my life in general. 

As I approach my cubicle, the smell of my boss’s cologne hits me like a brick and leaves me dizzy for a second. When I recover, I come to the horrible realization that my boss is waiting for me inside. I brace myself for impact and walk in.

There sat my boss, Mr. Smith. Overweight, overpaid, over dramatic, and unfortunately, over everything that happens in the company. And now, he’s in my poor office chair in all his sweaty-ness, tapping his pudgy fingers on my desk. The look on his face suggested that I had just murdered his dog. For some odd reason, Mr. Smith picked me as his stress reliever.

“Anderson! What did I tell you about this Steven’s report?!”

In his obese, whale-like fingers, Mr. Smith held a copy of the report. Except, I hadn’t worked on the Steven’s report. I’m Andrews, not Anderson. Even still, my brain told my mouth to say something along the lines of “Sorry sir, it wont happen agian.” but my mouth had other plans. I watched, horrified, as they formed the words, “My name’s Andrews you fat idiot!”. 

The look on Mr. Smith’s face goes from furious to shock, then to the gritty re-boot of the furious phase. His face changes from a unnatural pink to a deep burgundy. It’s time for me to exit the building, and fast. I bolted out the door, down the hall, past Mildred’s Mocha Java mist, and into my car. 

Starting the engine, I recall the dream I’d had this morning, just as the front door of the building explodes open. Mr. Smith flies out, spewing profanity and spit in every conceivable direction. I slam into gear, punch the gas, and scream around the corner in my Ford Pinto. Mr. Smith tries to chase me down, but his weight catches up to him and he collapses in the road, completely winded. 

Twenty blocks away, I realize that if I’d just kept my mouth shut, I’d still have a job. Sighing, I turn on the radio and slump back into my seat. I think to myself, my day isn’t even half way over and I managed to lose my job! I didn’t even see the school bus full of annoying little seventh graders going on a field trip. I did when it rear-ended me though. 

“It’s just one of those days...” I say quietly to myself as I turn up the radio, lock the doors, and proceed the bus driver screaming at me for “running into his bus”.

A Call To Arms

My dear friends,

            I have stumbled across something disturbing. It runs rampant through our school, infecting all it touches. We live day to day in constant fear. It could strike at any moment, from any source, and against any one of us. No one is safe. No one. Men and women, the young and the old, the strong and the weak, everyone is vulnerable.

            We must band together and strike down this menace before it’s too late! We have lost too many of our numbers to this monster! I say no more! For too long have I done nothing, watching and waiting for things to get better. For too long have we all stood to the side, allowing this disease to spread! We must stand and fight! To me! Rally to me! Fear not, my friends, for together we are strong!

Now, rise! Rise my brothers! Rise my sisters! Take up arms and prepare for battle! We are the gunshot to the head of trepidation! Valhalla awaits us! We ride forth to remember no more forever, The Game!

Jazz Era Letter

A note from the author: "The following is a letter that I wrote as an assignment for my English class last year. It contains a lot of "jazz age" slang, so if you don't understand it, it's not your fault. I don't blame you. Except for YOU. I blame you, Steve."

Frank,

The Big Cheese want’s us to take care of Moe “The Rat” Burton. Apparently, he was drinking a bit too much giggle water at the speakeasy down on the main drag. He thought he was a real cake eater and started messing with one of the Boss’s girls. This, for obvious reasons, rubbed the Boss the wrong way, even if it is just some Dumb Dora. So he wants us to take care of things for him. He suggested that “The Rat” get pinched at his favorite restaurant, a real ritzy place.

Personally, I think we should just bump him off, I mean, what’s difference? Besides, according to Slim, The Rat has hired a couple of hard boiled torpedoes to protect him. I guess these guys are the Real McCoy. Knowing Slim though, they’re probably nothing more than a couple drugstore cowboys trying to gyp Rat into paying ‘em. I say we walk right in, tell ‘em to scram, and get The Rat before he knows what hit him. Tell you one thing though, something about this job is already giving me the heebie-jeebies. Maybe I’m all wet, but something seems fishy. It’s your call. If you decide to take the job, I’ll meet you at Old Joe’s on

12th street

tomorrow, three o’ clock.

Top Five Recent Movies You've Never Seen (But Should Have)

5: Gwoemul (The Host) - 2006

South Korea isn’t really known for it’s cinema. Matter of fact, it’s not really known for much other than it’s evil twin, North Korea. Then along came a Korean, one by the name of Joon-ho Bong. South Korea had never made a monster movie, so Bong whipped up a script with his buddy Chul-hyun Baek and voilà! a monster was born. 

This movie is, hands-down, one of the best monster movies of all time. Why? Well for starters, the monster is the perfect blend of gross-out gore and awesomeness. The cinematography is gorgeous, and the unusual score works beautifully as a perfect contrast to the violence and gore on screen. The actors are surprisingly very good and worth tracking down for more. Probably the best thing about the movie is something that’s a little strange for a monster movie. You actually care for the characters. The whole movie is centered on a family who’s youngest member is abducted by the monster. Their pain and struggle hits you right where it should; right in the good old heartstrings. 

In short, this is a must-see. Just make sure to watch it in it’s original Korean. It’s worth it to read the subtitles, trust me. The english dubbing is absolutely terrible, as with most foreign films. I give it a 7.9 out of 10. 

4: Music Within - 2007

Nobody has ever seen this movie. Seriously. Absolutely nobody. Which is a real shame because this is easily one of the best drama/comedies of 2007. The acting is phenomenal and the direction is great, especially since it’s Steven Sawalich’s directorial debut. I expect great things from him and hopefully gets rediscovered soon. 

The movie is based on the true story of Richard Pimentel (Ron Livingston), a brilliant public speaker with a troubled past, who returns from Vietnam severely hearing-impaired. When he get’s home from Vietnam, he’s bitter and depressed. He finds a friend in hard-drinking veteran, Mike Stoltz (Yul Vazquez) and foul-mouthed genius with cerebral palsy, Art Honeyman (Michael Sheen). He eventually falls in love with free-spirited beauty, Christine (Melissa George) and plays a pivotal role in creating the “Americans With Disabilities” Act, using his extraordinary public speaking skills.

The performances in this movie are fantastic. Michael Sheen is perfect as Art; so good I had to check and make sure that he didn’t really have cerebral palsy. Ron Livingston really brings a lot of charisma to his role and makes you really care for Richard. All in all, I give this film an 7.5 out of 10 and happily recommend it to everyone who’s old enough to really appreciate the subject matter. 

3: The Maiden Heist - 2009

This little gem never hit the big screen thanks to the distributing company in charge of it going bankrupt. I was lucky enough to find it at my local RedBox. It’s the charming little story of three old men, all of whom are security guards at the Worcester Art Museum. The museum is doing some renovation and a good half of the art housed there is being shipped off to a museum in Denmark. Unfortunately for the museum, they’re shipping away Roger (Christopher Walken), Charles (Morgan Freeman), and George’s (William H. Macy) favorite pieces of art. The trio decide that they have to do something and set in motion a plan. A plan to keep their favorite pieces of art with them. Permanently. 

The story is simple, light-hearted, and fun and the characters endearing. The trio of Walken, Freeman, and Macy is rather funny in the first place, and the film makes most out of it. No, it’s not outrageously funny. No, it wont be one of your favorite comedies ever. But it will leave you with a smile on your face and cleanse your cinematic palate, at least for a short while. Then you can go back to your summer blockbusters and torture-porn. I give this little treat a 7.3 out of 10. 

2: The Brothers Bloom - 2008

Before I say anything about this movie, I must warn you. If you really liked Prince of Persia or your favorite movie is Avatar, skip this one. This is a deep, clever movie that really requires some brains to enjoy. So if you’d rather hang the story and really only care about flashy special effects and “sexy” movie stars, please do so. Just not here. Go buy yourself a couple of tickets for Grown Ups and be prepared for the funniest movie you’ve ever seen.

Okay, now for the good stuff. Oh and, just so no one’s confused, the above comment about Grown Ups is a little thing known as sarcasm. Anyway, The Brothers Bloom is a relatively unknown movie, mostly because nobody has time for clever, engaging films. If, however, you’re like me, you’ll see this film as a beacon of shining, original light, carving a path through the summer block busters, remakes, reboots, and sequels that flood the market these days. No, it’s not the greatest movie you’ll ever see but, like The Maiden Heist, it serves as a reminder that there are still opportunities for original stories, great writing, and real talent. 

The movie is the story of two brothers, Stephen (Mark Ruffalo) and Bloom (Adrien Brody). Even since they were kids, they’ve been pulling cons, with Stephen as the writer and Bloom as the actor. Stephen writes these characters to play, and Bloom plays them perfectly. Bloom is unhappy though, and decides that he’s done. He doesn’t want to play these characters anymore. He just wants to be himself. So Stephen sets up one last job to get Bloom’s self-esteem back. Their target, Penelope (Rachel Weisz), is an eccentric millionaire who inherited all of her money and the mansion she lives in. She prefers to stay indoors and spends her time learning new skills. She joins the brothers on their con, believing that they’re actually smugglers, and they embark on their journey. 

This movie is full of literary references and symbolism, making it one of the deepest films I’ve seen in a long time. The characters are great, each played perfectly by their respective actor/actress. Arguably the best part of the movie is the character Bang Bang, played by Rinko Kikuchi. She doesn’t talk much, if at all, and enjoys blowing up all manner of things. Especially Barbie dolls. 

Even with all I’ve said, this film does have it’s problems, like almost all films. It’s a bit lethargic at times, and the ending may confuse some. This is really a movie that you have to pay real attention when you’re watching it. If you don’t, the ending wont make any sense. All in all, this is a great movie. It’s hilarious at times, touching at others. This is definitely worth tracking down. You wont be disappointed. I give it a 7.9 out of 10.

1: Fantastic Mr. Fox - 2009

This is the story of Mr. Fox  and it’s easily one of the most creative and hilarious movies I’ve seen for a long time. Mr. Fox is an urbane fox who simple can’t resist returning to his farm raiding ways. He starts stealing from the nearby farms, and the farmers retaliate and he has to help his community survive. Eventually, they fight the farmers back and the day is saved.

The whole movie is done in stop motion “claymation”, which really adds to the film. The goofy, slightly choppy way the characters move, talk, and interact with each other is actually the source of a good percentage of the laughs. Another thing that makes this movie so great is the fantastic voice acting from some big names. George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Bill Murray, Jason Schwartzman, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, and Michael Gambon all do a great job with their respective characters, especially Clooney who play's the fantastic Mr. Fox. The casting director for this movie should get an oscar. 

One of the things that makes this movie so great, is the way it deals with adult themes in a funny and interesting way. All the characters swear, but not in the conventional manner. The word “cuss” stands in for all the swear words and it’s cussing hilarious. A lot of the humor is aimed at adults, not because it’s raunchy or crude, but because it deals with things such as real estate, debt, marriages, and coming of age. 

Wes Anderson does a (surprisingly) good job with this one, and it’s definitely a movie you should track down. You won’t be disappointed, I guarantee it. While it’s a little on the short side (87 minutes), it’s one of the most imaginative movies I’ve ever seen. To put it simply, it’s cussing good. I give it a 8.1 out of 10, making it the highest rated film on this list.