#watching a video and the guy honestly just said 'nine thirty seconds' like it meant something

[the-chickenshit-oddity]

most impressive thing about the americans i watch on youtube is when they measure things. how.

[mst3kproject]

The Monster of Piedras Blancas

At some point I realized that I'd done an awful lot of fishman movies on this blog, so I decided I needed a tag for them.  I chose #it's beginning to look a lot like fishmen, after a rather amusing musical version of The Shadow over Innsmouth that you can find on YouTube.  Most of them are less fun than said video, and this one very much so.  It qualifies itself for MST3King by featuring Forrest Lewis from The Thing that Couldn't Die, Don Sullivan from The Giant Gila Monster, and Jeanne Carmen from Untamed Youth.

Some lonely people feed the birds or stray cats in their neighbourhood. The lighthouse keeper of Piedras Blancas doesn't have any of those, so he feeds the fish monster that lives below the rocks.  As long as he does this, it only occasionally kills people when they wander into its territory, but trouble begins when the grocer fails to save enough meat scraps to satisfy it.  Soon the hungry beast is lopping heads off right and left and draining the bodies of blood!  The local constable thinks he may have a homicidal maniac on his hands, but marine biologist Fred identifies a shed scale at the scene as belonging to a Diplovertebron, a beast thought to be long-extinct.

Diplovertebron is an actual creature with its own Wikipedia article and everything. According to said article, it was a lizardy sort of a thing that lived in what is now the Czech Republic three hundred million years ago, and was around half a meter long.  It's a very obscure and not terribly threatening animal, and I have a hard time imagining why the writers chose it, of all extinct creepy-crawlies, to be their monster's ancestor.  It doesn't even have a very interesting name. 'Diplovertebron' is quite technical-sounding and has too many syllables to roll nicely off the tongue.  Why not pick something that at least sounds scary?

The Monster of Piedras Blancas is a bloated, sedate movie.  It knows that movies need breaks between the actiony bits... but its actiony bits have no real action, and the talky scenes it inserts to space them out are deathly dull and contribute almost nothing.  There's a bit where two characters discuss a victim's time of death in great detail, taking into account things like a spilled bottle of ink, that would have reduced Joel to tears.  It almost becomes a joke when Fred and the Doctor discuss the minutiae of Diplovertebron scales, while the constable sits there growling impatiently at them.  When even your characters think the movie is too slow, you have a problem.

Everything that might possibly be exciting takes place off-screen.  This is fine and even expected during the 'building suspense' parts – of course we don't see the deaths of the fishermen or the grocer. The bit where we first see the entire monster, when characters open a walk-in fridge and it lumbers out holding a severed head, is honestly pretty well-done.  After that, however, we should finally get to see some monster-eating-people scenes... but since this is yet another stupid rubber fishman suit a la the She-Creature, all it's actually capable of is slapping a few guys and then fleeing.  It supposedly kills a couple of gun-toting rednecks, but the fight happens elsewhere while the audience watches Fred and the doctor fart around in a cave.  We don't see the monster again until it inevitably kidnaps the lighthouse-keeper's cute daughter at the climax.

The severed head is pretty plasticky and looks nothing like the guy it supposedly came from, but an effort was made and I respect that. There are veins sticking out the bottom of it and a really creepy bit where we find it in the monster's lair with crabs crawling over it.

As the movie draws closer to its climax, the men in the town sit down and have a good think about how they're going to defeat it. They know they can't overpower it, and it seems to be reasonably intelligent, so they've decided they're going to have to outwit it. Their big plan for doing so is... throw a net over it.

I expected this to fail spectacularly, but what actually happened was even dumber.  I will not spoil the last thirty seconds of this movie for you, because it's funny as hell, but let's just say that fishmen are like pumas – if you ever meet one in real life, you can just push it the hell over.

As you might have guessed, Lucy is only in this movie so that she can be saved from the monster and can kiss Fred as the words the end appear on the screen.  The only interesting thing about her is a brief moment of stunning misogyny.  She comes running to the doctor to tell him her father has had an accident and needs help – and before going to do so, the doctor makes Lucy take a sedative. Her behaviour was not in any way hysterical or unreasonable.  A little reassurance would have done the job just fine!

This scene suggests that the townspeople don't think very highly of Lucy, and there are other bits that tell us she's probably supposed to be at least ten years younger than twenty-nine-year-old actress Jeanne Carmen.  On the other hand, they seem to think she's capable enough to look after her injured father alone and with only a locked door to protect her from the marauding monster.  Then again, if they didn't, it couldn't carry her off to be menaced.  Yet again, a movie's leading lady is a plot device rather than a character.  This seems particularly true of fishman movies.  Think of the Creature from the Black Lagoon series.

As I mentioned upfront, I have seen a lot of fishman movies.  This is the fifteenth since this blog's inception!  I thought there were a lot of bigfoot movies around, but if you check the tags you'll see that fishmen outnumber him two to one!  This brings up an interesting question – namely, why?

Why fishmen? Sea Monsters have a long and fascinating history that includes not just the classic serpent and kraken but such things as savage merpeople, scaly pig-fish covered with eyes, and according to one sixteenth-century map, very large Yorkshire terriers.  Then along came the 1930s and the popularization of the Loch Ness Monster as plesiosaur, opening up the range to prehistoric sea beasties.  Why not one of those?

I'm guessing the answer is 'because they're expensive'.  Those would require puppets and stop motion and other special effects.  A guy in a costume is much cheaper to build and operate.

Okay, but even if you have to restrict yourself to human-shaped monsters, there are plenty of those, too!  There's the aforementioned merpeople, but also vampires, werewolves, zombies, mummies, and their ilk!  Dracula and Frankenstein are both in the public domain!  And make no mistake, people have made lots of movies about those... but they have also made a whole lot of movies about fishmen!  Why fishmen?

The answer, most likely, is that Creature from the Black Lagoon came out in 1954 and it was huge, being one of those movies that requires an entire separate Wikipedia article for its cultural impact!  The tidal wave of other fishman movies that followed it are like the glut of monster-on-a-spaceship movies that followed Alien, or the fad for teenage slasher movies in the 1980s, or those cheaply animated direct-to-DVD movies that cluster around every Disney and Dreamworks release.  A fishman movie had made money, and now everybody was lining up to milk the scaly, mucus-coated cash cow!

That was a terrible mix of metaphors right there.  Yuck.

There's also something uniquely horrifying about one of the genre's major tropes – the fishman's interest in human women.  This, too, began with Creature from the Black Lagoon but as we've seen it carried over into other films – Bog and Creatures from the Abyss are notable examples (and then there's The Shape of Water). In The Monster from Piedras Blancas this idea is present in that the monster kidnaps Lucy instead of just killing her like it did every other human it met, but it's not emphasized the way the monster's interest in Kay was in Black Lagoon. Fish are proverbially cold and slimy, and the idea of sexual contact with one is almost reminiscent of necrophilia unless you have some very specific interests (see previous parentheses).  The fishman's lack of genitals make it that much more disturbing.

So now that we've sorted that out, my final question about fishman movies is this: could a fishman beat bigfoot in a fight? They're both big, broad-chested creatures that movies like to outfit with claws, teeth, superhuman strength, and bad tempers.  I think it would depend on where the battle happened.  If they're in the water, then the fishman has a clear advantage – bigfoot can drown.  If they're on land, things are a little more even.  The fishman's slime would make him difficult to hang onto, but if his gills dry out he'll have a hard time breathing.  Bigfoot's fur gives the fishman something to yank, but his large feet make him hard to knock down.  It might depend on whether or not the fishman is venomous.

Why hasn't anybody made that movie?  Picture it – dozens of fishmen swimming upstream to spawn, and bigfoot dragging them out of the water to eat like bears with salmon!  I'd absolutely pay for exorbitantly expensive theatre popcorn if it meant I got to see that on screen!

[snlhostharry]

to be determined / one

harry styles x reader friends with benefits au

soon after moving to new york, you meet harry styles at a party. you convince yourself that there’s nothing between the two of you until it becomes too intense to ignore. if you keep telling yourself that he doesn’t mean anything to you, does that make it true?

a/n: hi everyone! welcome to my first harry styles series. This originally started as a challenge for myself to try and write a harry fic inspired by taylor swift songs so that’s where the chapter titles come from, it’s kind of become something bigger than that but I figured I would keep the theme anyway 

chapter 1: welcome to new york

The story starts in New York City. 

A place written about in countless stories, about love, about heartbreak, about giving up, about standing tall, and about putting broken hearts into drawers and slamming them shut. It’s easy to say that writing another story about New York is beating a dead horse, throwing characters into the same tired old setting and letting them live out the writer's wildest daydream. But it’s never been about the city itself, it’s always been about the people. Something about the city always manages to be the perfect stomping ground for people, for characters to find each other in a  whirlwind of A list parties and harsh billboard lights. 

Speaking of which you are suddenly very sick of said harsh billboard lights in the middle of times square. As someone who has read (and written) countless articles describing times square as a flurry of activity but also with some kind of inherent magical appeal, the center of everything it’s own small utopia, you know that everyone who wrote that had to be aware of their own bullshit. It’s a nuanced way of tourist trapping, smart, albeit annoying on a variety of levels. A gimmick to get wide eyed little girls to stand in the middle of chaos and think that maybe they could carve out a place for themselves here. 

You’re not trying to carve out a place for yourself, you’re trying to get to a stupid party. That and manage to not get any mud or other stains on this very nice dress you’re wearing. After what seems like forever of looking around and then suddenly looking back down at your phone just in case anyone wanted to even try to make eye contact with you, familiar faces appear out of the sea of people. 

You greet them with a look of disappointment, “Two questions: why did you want to meet here-” a tourist elbows there way past you mid sentence, inadvertently proving your point, “-and why aren’t we just taking an uber?” 

Molly, a tall black woman with objectively perfect hair (which is somehow gorgeous at all times), smiles and pats your shoulder like a kindergarten teacher, “I thought you would want to see Times Square.”

“I’ve seen it,” You shoot back, squinting again at the bright light coming from directly behind her head, and adjusting your jacket over your shoulders. 

She squeezes your shoulder quickly, “And also to teach you that any time someone asks you to meet them in Times Square  they’re fucking with you.”

“I figured you were fucking with me,” You tell her, “But thank you, god forbid the midwestern girl gets lost in Times Square waiting for someone to meet her who is obviously not coming.” 

Molly laughs, and so do you. She looks down at her phone briefly, and then back at you, “To answer your question, why would anyone ever try to get an uber in the city at seven?” 

You shrug, “What kind of self respecting party starts at eight?” 

Fletcher, who’s name admittedly sounds like it should belong to anyone but him, finally stops staring at the large elmo mascot a few feet away and jumps into the conversation. “The kind with an age range, twenty somethings to late thirty somethings, who no longer have the energy to go from nine to six am.” 

You sigh, “So boring then or-?”

“It’s about networking,” Molly says, “And also drinking, but mostly networking.” 

“One of those unique business opportunities where you get free food, and possibly run into celebrities, singers mostly.” 

You roll your eyes, “Wow you had me at various singers.” 

“Says the woman who did an interview series with Tik Tok kids who all live in the same house,” Molly snips, half joking. 

You shiver, half from the memories of that objectively terrible experience and half from a sudden breeze. Needless to say a significant portion of the reason why you’d left LA, was because their entertainment section was suddenly drifting away from profiles on actors and towards compilations of one minute videos made by sun tanned twenty somethings that somehow made them millions a year. That and after you’d spent two weeks semi living with ten of said twenty somethings for a story that had gotten a lot of buzz you never wanted to see anyone connected to the app ever again. 

You give Molly your best ‘I’ll kill you’ smile, “You have to decide what you’re going to make fun of me for, is it the midwestern thing or is it the Tik Tok thing because one of those involves you admitting that I lived in Los Angeles for a year which means I’m perfectly capable of handling Times Square in all of it’s elmo public urinating glory.” 

Fletcher looks again at the mascot who is not in fact publicly urinating, but honestly if it did suddenly start none of you would be surprised. 

Molly looks at you for a second and says, “Both,” She looks at Fletcher. 

He looks at you then back and Molly and nods, “Yeah. Both.” 

You roll your eyes, “So can we get going now or-?” 

The ride to the location Molly had all but refused to tell you was filled with talks of the impending deadlines on Monday for pieces that were anywhere from fifty to seventy percent finished. (your’s is at the lower end of the spectrum because there is only so much one person can write about an art installation that you found less insightful and more literal in the sense that the sculpture was literally just large amounts of clay pressed together in something that shouldn’t even be considered a shape with no metaphor or meaning behind it). 

Soon enough you’re standing in what looks like mostly a residential neighborhood, with one precariously nice building in the middle of the block. You turn to Molly, “What the-?” 

“Don’t finish that, just be patient,“ She interrupts as a response. “You are very impatient, you know that?”

“I’m a journalist,” You say, “I need to know all of the facts, including what the-” You take a breath, “-heck we’re doing in the middle of a nice little neighborhood, I was expecting something more Gossip Girland Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” 

“You’re definition of journalist is a lot looser than mine,” Molly says.

“Have you ever watched Gossip Girl? And isn’t Brooklyn Nine-Nine set in a precinct?” Fletcher adds. 

“No, and Jake and Amy live in an apartment.” 

“Beyond the fact that you’re a TV writer who has never watched Gossip Girl-” Fletcher sighs, even though you know he hasn’t watched it either beyond random snippets for a hit piece he wrote on it a few months back (not received well by the way), “The top floor of that building-” He points to the precariously nice building, “isn’t apartments its a loft, the floor is huge and only one house.” 

You squint your eyes, “You’re kidding.”

“And the rest are offices?” 

“How did they get zoning for that?” 

They both shrug at the same time. 

“Guys I want to know that if the police bust up this party, speaking of loose terms, I’m going to say that you dragged me here against my will.” 

“I always knew you had good survival instincts.” 

Molly turns to you, “Look when you’re getting special press access to the inside of the met gala you will be saying thank you Molly for bringing me here to catapult my career.” 

“I have catapulted my own career thank you, the Tik Tok thing-” You shake your head, “Nevermind can we go in and stop loitering, then we’ll really get arrested.” 

Party is a loose term but you learn that's not necessarily a bad thing. It’s not a rager with strobe lights and pumping bass but there is music playing albeit classical. People mill around at tables talking to one another, both twenty somethings and thirty somethings, you recognize a few faces from the media mostly. Fletcher was right about the food, and Molly was right about the drinks. You talk to a few people just to introduce yourself, a couple of them have heard of you, if only because your sudden cross country move to newspapers that aren’t necessarily competitors but might have a bit of a rivalry was something that people talked about. You’d made a couple thirty under thirty lists (no not the Forbes one) while in LA, which meant nothing to you if you were being completely honest but apparently meant things to other people which is fine.

When you’re finally exhausted at putting on a smile and nodding like you’re actively engaged in conversation and not thinking about something completely you hang out by the bar, not even drinking, just watching the room and all of the people there. You never wanted to get a reputation for being the quiet girl in the corner who just watched and listened because those kinds of people are always seen as weird or doormats or both but if you’re being honest this is where you’re the most comfortable. Making small talk just to get some opportunity down the road has never quite been your style. 

You turn to go and find Molly when you suddenly come face to face with someone you recognise right away. 

In that moment you realize that Taylor Swift was in fact onto something when she said, “Didn’t you flash your green eyes at me?” As weird as it is, the first thing you think when you meet Harry Styles is how that song is definitely about him, because those green eyes are striking and they are staring right at you. 

“Hi,” He says, quick to the draw. 

You take a step back just because of how close you are and say, “Hello.” 

He looks at you like he’s thinking about something, and then holds out his hand, “Harry.” 

“y/n,” You shake his hand. You recover from your initial shock quickly, and plaster on that fake conversation smile again, ready for whatever it is he wants to say, if anything. You came here to ‘network’ and you’re not sure what kind of advantage talking to Harry Styles could possibly give you, but for some reason you want to talk to him. 

“What brings you here?” He asks you. 

“My co-workers,” You shrug, “I would much rather be at home watching Succession on HBO and listening to the Beatles on my record player, like true people of culture would.”

He looks at you for a second, as you try to keep a straight face. Then he laughs, “Seriously?”

“Fuck no,” You say, “That’s my impression of the girl who meets Harry Styles at a party and has to convince him that she is not like all the other girls, she is the one for him.” You smile, “Was that good? Or should I try again?” 

He thinks about it, “I think you should try again.” 

“Because you think it’s wrong or because you think I’m funny?”

“What do you think?”

“Well if you think I’m funny, then I’ve already won, I’ve tricked you into thinking that I’m not like all the other girls with reverse psychology .”

“Are you screwing with me?”

“Of course I’m screwing with you,” You take a sip of your drink. “If I were home right now I would be playing Lizzo on my record player, and drinking something with a medically unsafe level of caffeine.” You pause, “What brings you here?” 

“Honestly,” He looks out over the room, “I thought that this was going to be a much cooler party. Instead it’s just a bunch of reporters, and editors and media people.” 

“Who are inherent mood killers?” You ask. 

He narrows his eyes at you, “Am I allowed to say yes to that?” 

“You can do whatever you want,” You tease him, “You’re Harry Styles, who am I to tell you what to say?” 

“I feel like it was a trick question, which means that you are also a reporter.” 

You laugh again, “That was funny, I’m going to write that down for my story. ‘Harry is genuinely funny which he tries to use to make up for the lack of small talk abilities’.”

“You’re screwing with me again.” 

“Of course I am,” You say, “I work in the arts section of the Times, well not the actual art anymore but the movies and television.” 

“TV critic?” He says, “So you’re harsh.” 

“TV critics are just harsh for attention, I don’t need to be because no movie snob or well meaning director is going to go to the Times to see what we thought of any given movie. I write honestly, sometimes under the influence of caffeine and try to contain my excitement at narratively unnecessary plot twists.” You explain, “That and I get paid to watch TV, and usually private screenings of movies.” 

He leans against the bar a sign that he doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon. You’re not going to say that you’re so awestruck by a celebrity that you have no idea what to say, or that he’s intimidating you but your hand shakes just a little as you clutch your fingers around the glass because he’s objectively attractive. Objectively attractive in the way that if he were on a dating app you would swipe yes and then put a lot of pressure on yourself to be funny and relatable even though you know that you don’t need him. 

“What did you think of Dunkirk?” 

“Oh!” You forgot that he acted, “That was before my time. I was working at the LA Times doing the music section then I think.” You know what he’s going to say next, “And before you ask yes there is a piece still posted of me reviewing your debut album. I think I reached out to get an interview with you, but I was suspiciously declined.” He looks embarrassed, “I was like under five years out of college I would’ve declined me too. They only gave me the story because it was the time where people weren’t sure that ex boyband members could make objectively good albums that meant something.” 

He tilts his head to the side for a second, “And? Can they?”

“I’m in no place to make a generalization,” You say, “But I think you did. Admittedly that album was something, very intimate.” 

“I don’t know if I should be taking that as a compliment.”

“I don’t want to give you a compliment because some people have a hard time with them, and this will get very awkward very fast. No shame, personally I have no mechanism to take compliments on my writing.” 

He laughs, “I think I can take it.” 

“Hmm.. okay,” You take another step back, “Okay are you sure you're ready?” 

“Yes.” 

“I think the entire album was very good, very unexpectedly good or at least I didn’t expect it to be. It was very open in that way that songs are vulnerable but still leave enough mystery that your fans don’t think you're a shitty person and I really like meet me in the hallway,” You say quickly, “In fact I listened to it just yesterday when I was working.” 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and then fake sighs, “See I don’t think that counts because it was more of a backhanded compliment.” 

“What?”

“You said you didn’t expect it to be good, that’s not really a compliment then-”

“I was saying it pleasantly surprised me,” You say, throwing your hands in the air in mock annoyance. “You surprise me, Harry.” He doesn’t say anything, and for a minute neither do you, but you snap back to life just in time to say, “Is that compliment enough to embarrass you?” 

He shrugs, but you know he’s messing with you. “It’s something but I don’t know if it’s really doing it for me.” 

“You are impossible, just another out of touch celebrity, is nothing ever good enough for you people?” It’s by now that you realize that you inadvertently closed the gap between the two of you, and you’re standing very close. 

He seems to realize this at the same time as you, “I-”

“Are you going to ask me to have sex with you?” You deadpan. 

“What?” He looks offended for a second, “No.” 

“I had to ask,” You tell him, “It’s happened before.” 

“I was going to ask you for your number.”

“See usually when a guy asks me that they’re asking so-” 

“It’s not for that.” 

“Then what’s it for?” 

He looks at you with something in his eyes that you don’t know the meaning of, “In case you want to do an interview, so that they don’t reject you this time.” 

You know that’s not it, but you give it to him anyway because he’s Harry Styles (which yes is not a valid reason but this ‘party’ is very boring and this is the most interesting thing to happen to you in at least the past week). It takes you a minute to remember which one is your real number and which one is the fake number you give off if a guy is asking because he wants a booty call, but you eventually give it to him. Then you scurry off with a quick goodbye when you realize how late it is, and how you do have work to do. There’s a new episode of Big Little Lies out tomorrow and you don’t understand why but people are very into the show, and very into your episode recaps. 

You corner Molly away from some guy you think might have actually been able to get her press access to the Met Gala and remind her that she also has a deadline tomorrow. The two of you go off to look for Fletcher and find him very close to sealing the deal with an objectively pretty girl, but you politely remind him that he has work to do and is very busy. The girl looks sad but let’s him go without much whining. You would’ve understood if she tried to get him to stay with her, he’s a little bit shorter than Molly but to be fair Molly is above averagely tall, and is nice and fit and has brown curly hair which you know from personal experience is sometimes just kryptonite. (you’ve kissed Fletcher before, long story, and can also say he’s on your top list of good kissers as well right up there with a guy you hooked up with in LA only to realize later that he was Robert Pattinson). 

Somehow the three of you are only able to make it back to your apartment. So the night ends with Molly and Fletcher in the living room on the couch and in a sleeping bag respectively, and you are comfortably in your bed. Your phone sits on your nightstand, suspiciously silent. You’re not waiting for Harry Styles to call you, nope, definitely not. 

[spidey-babe-parker]

See the Sun

Chapter 2: My Birthday Girl

Featuring: Dr. Chris Beck x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: drinking, fluff and angst

Summary: it (y/n) birthday and it’s luckily the day you get to video chat with Chris.

AN: my life has been so crazy this summer. Sorry for the delay on posting this.

Chris had been gone for two months and even though she tried not to think about him all the time he seemed to always been in the back of her mind.

She woke up in the morning at sunrise because it was one of the days she got to video chat with Chris. She was starting to feel like every moment of her life was leading up to these video chats. She kept telling herself that couldn’t fall in love with him, that they were just friends but it hard to tell your heart something when it seems to be already wanting to make up its mind.

She sat on her computer staring at the screen waiting for the call to go through. She couldn’t wait to see his bright eyes and crooked smile. The laptop rang for a moment before Chris’ beautiful face popped on the screen. His eyes were as bright as she remembered and his smile made her melt suddenly.

“Good morning,” he rasped.

“Morning,” she couldn’t help the huge smile on her face.

   “What have you been up to since we last talked?” he asked as he messed with the collar of his navy NASA sweater.

“I would say same old same, but Lola’s birthday was yesterday so I got to take care of a bunch of drunk friends in a bar,” she thought back to the night before when she went out with her best friend and bunch of their other girl friends.

His eyes brows knit together as he gave her a crooked smile, “did you drink?”

She shook her head, “someone had to be dd and take care of all their drunk asses.”

He let out a soft laugh he knew that she rarely drank she was always the responsible one that would look after everyone and make sure they got home safe.

“You know you’re the total mom friend right?” he laughed lightly.

She nodded her head well aware that she was the mom friend. She had been like that since she was a little kid. She was the one that would look after all her cousins at any family event, and the person all the neighbors would hire to babysit.

“I have been like that since I was a child,” she laughed.

“I love your laugh,” he sighed lightly. He regretted the words the as soon as they left his mouth though. He was trying his hardest to keep this friendship innocent, but it was so hard when he cared for her so much.

Capturing her bottom lip between her teeth she stared into his pool blue eyes even the computer screen couldn’t hide how bright they were

“How’s space so far?” she asked causing him to smile.

“It’s still big and covered in stars,” his little dad joke caused her to laugh softly.

“You’re such a dork.”

He shrugged his shoulder and smiled, “so what do you have planned this week?”

“I have a big work party in two days that falls on my birthday that I’m trying to convince Lola to be my date to.” She wished that Chris was home so he could be her date. She hated the fact she had to bug her best friend to go with her.

“Why don’t you ask someone to be your date?” he hated the fact that he had to try to push the girl of his dreams to try and put herself out there to date someone else.

“I can’t think of anyone else I would want to ask,” she sighed. She hated when he would do this. She knew this was his way of trying to make sure she didn’t wait around for him.

“There’s nobody?” he said as he pushed his fingers through his hair.

She shook her head and swallows.

“(Y/N)…” he hesitated because he wasn’t even exactly sure what he should say to her.

“Yeah Beck?” she leaned forward and rested her elbow on the table.

“This is hard,” he said softly. He wasn’t even sure what made him think that this could possibly be easy. He didn’t know what made him think that he could possibly just push aside his feeling he had for her.

“It’s extremely hard,” she whispered.

“What do you want for your birthday?” he asked changing the subject.

She smiled at the fact that he remembered her birthday was this week, “I don’t need anything.”

He shook his head, “I have to get you something.”

She knit her eyebrows together, “how would you get me something when you’re way out in space?”

“You underestimate my abilities,” he said with a soft laugh.

“I don’t need anything I enjoy being able to talk to you.”

“I don’t like that answer,” he bit his bottom lip holding back a laugh.

“I don’t know what to tell you then mister,” she laughed.

“Hey Beck,” someone called from behind Chris.

Her heart sank a little know that meant that this was going to be the end of their call for two weeks.

“One second Martinez,” he looked over his shoulder and said. Looking back at the screen he found (Y/N) looking at him with sad eyes. “I don’t want to say goodbye, but.”

“You have space stuff you have to do,” she said softly.

He nodded his head, “next time we talk you’ll be another year older.”

The side of her mouth lifted into a small smile, “yep.”

“I know I shouldn’t say this, but I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you too Beck.”

“I’ll talk to you in two weeks doll,” he sighed not ready to hang up.

“Okay goodbye Beck,” she sighed as her eyes started to brim with tears. She didn’t think should ever make it through a video chat without crying.

“Bye (y/n),” he gave her one last smile before the screen went black in front of her.

She shook her head and pushed back the tears that were threatening to fall. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, but she didn’t expect it to be this hard.

A heavy sigh passed her lips as she stood up from the table. She loved talking to Chris whenever she got a chance, but always saying goodbye to him made her so sad. She didn’t understand how she managed to meet the perfect man at the worst time possible.

Glancing at the clock by the table she knew she needed to start getting ready for work. She pulled herself off to her room to start getting ready. Walking over to her closet she picked out something wear. As she put her clothes on, she couldn’t help but think about Beck like she always did.

- -

A few days later

Coming home work, she didn’t expect to see a note on her door. Picking it up she couldn’t help but smile to see it was from Chris.

Happy birthday I wish I could be there to celebrate with you.

Ps. I owe Lola big time.

Always, Beck

She smiled as she picked up the note and stared at it for a long moment before opening the front door. Walking inside her eyes grew wide at the sight of a huge bouquet of yellow roses. There was a slight sting in her chest at yellow roses being the color of friendship, but she couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he went out of his way to have Lola to get two dozen rose in her apartment while she was at work. She bit her lip as she smiled staring at them. Reaching into their pocket she pulled out her phone and texted Lola.

Thank you for helping out Beck.

Sitting her phone down on the counter she walked over and picked up a rose and stared at it for moment. She thought to herself how did she literally manage to find the most perfect guy literally imaginable, at the worst time.

Her phone dinged and she picked it up see a text from Lola.

Lola

That guy is a damn good guy. He made me promise to take you out to the work party tonight and to make sure you actually drink.

She smiled at her text and shook her head.

I feel like I have a lot of emotions today and honestly need to drink them away.

Her phone dinged thirty seconds later with another text.

Lola: Dress slutty I’ll be home by six.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Lola’s text. Lola really liked Chris but she agreed with him (Y/N) shouldn’t sit around and wait for him for over a year. She had been friends with (Y/N) since college and knew about her plans to hopefully have a family and start the white picked fence dream by the time she was thirty. She knew as well as Chris that he was throwing a wrench in her plans. She knew how happy he made her best friend, but she also knew that (y/n) shouldn’t sit around and wait for a guy she spent one whirlwind week with. She thought she was insane when she threw all she had into those nine days she spent with him. She knew that their relationship had most likely one out come and that was heart break for Stella. Lola had watched her get her heart smashed back in college junior year. She wasn’t sure (Y/N) would ever trust men again after what the asshole Blaine did to her. Lola and (Y/N) met freshman year of college when they were roommates and became best friends immediately. They even lived together now.

- -

Walking into the her work party she looked around to see that a lot of her coworkers were already pretty tipsy. Lola laced her fingers with her best friends and led her straight towards the bar.

“So, your space man told me tonight you were the one getting drunk,” Lola smiled leaning against the bar.

“We both know I’m terrible at drinking. You lived with me in college you know this first hand,” she wasn’t looking forward to drinking whatever he best friend picked out for her.

Lola leaned against the bar and flirted with the bartender and order herself a drink and (Y/N) a drink. It only took a moment before the bartender sat a shot glass in front of her and a tall glass that looked like it was mostly vodka with a splash of cranberry juice.

“Happy birthday,” Lola said with a huge smile on her face.

She picked up the shot glass and stared at the clear liquid wide eyed. She saw the hangover coming before she had even taken a drink of clear liquid. She brought the shot to her lips and tossed it back and cringed as the liquid slid down her throat.

“Another one please,” Lola said to the bartender before she could even set the shot glass down on the table.

Lola was definitely planning on getting her best friend drunk and at this rate it wasn’t going to take much. Another shot was sat in front of her and she glared at her best friend for a moment before she took the shot. She shook her head as liquid slid down her throat.

Lola sipped on her own drink with a smirk on her face.

“You better take care of my drunk ass tonight,” she complained before taking a sip of her vodka with a splash of cranberry.

“Oh, believe I’ll hold your hair while you puke your guts out,” she said before taking another drink of her vodka and cranberry. “The quicker you drink that the quicker we can get out there and dance. Maybe we can find you one of your cute coworkers to take you home tonight.”

Stella rolled her eyes and shook her head, “we both know that’s not happening.”

Lola sighed they had had this conversation over and over again, “Don’t let him stop you from living your life.”

She closed her eyes for a long moment she hated having this conversation with Lola. She exhaled, “he’s not stopping me from doing anything. I’m not closing my heart off.”

Lola shook her head, “we both know damn well that’s utter bullshit, and so does Chris.”

“Can we please not have this conversation right now. I already had it with Beck the other day, and I promise I’m not completely closed off. I can’t help it that I care about someone who is literally a million miles away. If someone was to actually ask me out though I wouldn’t say no to going on a date.”

Knitting her eyebrows together Lola stared at her, “you promise me that would actually give another man a real chance?”

“Yes, I would give another man a chance,” she sighed. “Can we now finish these drinks and go dance?”

Lola smiled before chugging the rest of her drink. (Y/N) quickly drank her own extremely strong drink. Lola sat her glass down on the bar and reached down and laced her fingers with (Y/N)’s and led her off to the dance floor where some of her coworkers who were her friends were dancing. They all took turns hugging her and wishing her happy birthday. It didn’t take long before the group of girls were dancing and having a blast. Lola snuck off to get her best friend another shot. She didn’t want to take knowing that her already tipsy state was walking the very fine line between drunk and tipsy. She took the shot and got cheers from her friends.

They danced as a group for what felt like hours. It didn’t take long for her wobbly self to walk over to the bar attempting to get water. Leaning against the bar a man walked over that worked with her. He was one of the few guys that worked with her that she actually found attractive.

“Happy birthday,” he said leaning against the counter giving her a smirk.

“Thank you, Dan,” she slurred.

“I don’t think I have ever told you this but you look really good,” his chocolate eyes traveled down her very curvy body. Her cheeks flushed pink as she realized he was checking her out.

“Thank you…” she wasn’t what else she could say to him. She was attempting to not close herself off but she didn’t like the idea of flirting with anyone who wasn’t Chris.

“Did you maybe want to dance?” he asked as he rested his hand on her arm.

“I kind of have a boyfriend,” it wasn’t the truth. Technically according to Chris, they were only friends, and him and Lola would both be pissed if they found out she was turning down a chance to dance with someone she found attractive.

“Oh, my bad. Who is your boyfriend?” he pulled his hand off of her.

“His name is Chris Beck and he’s an astronaut,” she sighed.

“The Doctor Chris Beck?” he asked shocked.

“Yep that’s him,” she bit her bottom lip suddenly wanting to disappear.

“Well that’s cool, well if you guys don’t work out maybe we could hang out sometime,” he said before walking away.

She ran her fingers through her curled hair and let out a heavy sigh. She leaned over the bar and got the bartender who was flirting with Lola to pour her one last shot.

That last shot was the nail in the coffin. Lola walked her drunk ass out of the bar and held her hand and led her through their apartment.

Lola helped her get dressed for bed and brought her a makeup wipe so she could clean her face. Lola tucked the birthday girl in and then headed off to her own room.

She laid in bed for a few moments before she reached over to her nightstand was and grabbed her laptop.

Opening her emails, she found an email from Chris with subject as “Happy Birthday”. She clicked on the email and suddenly wanted to cry as she read his sweet words.

My birthday girl,

I wish that I was able to send you more then flowers and a few notes for your birthday. I’m up here in space while hopefully Lola is taking you out for your birthday and making sure for once you aren’t sober one taking care of your drunk friends. I’m assuming that by the time you actually read this email it won’t be your birthday anymore, but I wanted to be more then I was able to say in my small note with your flowers I sent you.

I have so many things I want to say to you, but I can’t bring myself to say to you. I don’t think I have ever thought about anyone more then I think about you. Even surrounded by a million stars I can’t help think about how they’ll never compare to the way your freckled kissed skin looks as the morning light shines through the curtains.

Even after reading this I need you to still keep your heart open.

Always, Beck

Her eyes brimmed with tears as even in her drunken state she read his email over and over again. Even when he makes little confessions, he’s attempting to be selfless by telling her not to close herself off.

She knew in her drunken state she shouldn’t respond to his email, but she felt like she had a lot of things she needed to say to him.

Beck,

I don’t think I can even put into words how much I miss you, and your touch. I try to tell myself often that I shouldn’t think about you but I always do. Seeing the flowers, you sent me for my birthday honestly made my day. You’ll be happy to know that Lola took me out tonight and got me very drunk. I can already feel the hangover coming on. Tonight, some guy I worked with asked me to dance and I couldn’t bring myself to say yes to him. Please don’t be mad but I can’t picture myself being held by another man when the only one I think about is you. I know I’m probably drunkenly rambling and that when you read this it will make no sense. I guess I just wish that I could actually see you and talk to you more. I wish that I could have actually spent my birthday with you.

Love, (Y/N).

She closed her laptop and soon fell asleep.

The bright light shining through the curtains woke her up and was greeted with a pounding headache that was reminder of all she had drank the night before. She groaned as she rubbed her eyes. Her eyes grew wide as she remembered that she drunkenly emailed Chris.

Grabbing her laptop she quickly opened it and turned it on and got suddenly nervous when she saw she had another email from Chris.

Star Girl,

I can tell we are both left wanting to say a lot of things that we shouldn’t say out loud. I wanted nothing more in the universe then to have been able to actually spend your birthday with you. I’m glad Lola took you out and made sure for once you weren’t the sober friend. I hope you aren’t too hungover today.

I’m not mad at you for not dancing with the guy you work with, but I want you to actually give people a chance to get to know the amazing girl I know. I can’t be selfish and expect you to just be mine. Oh and I find your drunken rambling cute just so you know.

I agree with you I want nothing more then to actually talk to you more and to be able to see you. I look forward to our video chats every other week.

Always, Beck.

She sighed as she read his email a few times, she wished that he would just ask her to wait for him because honestly, she was pretty sure she was waiting for him. She didn’t think it was possible to share the same feeling she had for another man that had for Dr. Chris Beck.

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[mode7rap]

genoboost reviews the Final Fantasy VII commercial

via Game Music 4 All

I hate Final Fantasy VII.

Well, I love Final Fantasy VII, but don't tell Final Fantasy VII I said that. FFVII doesn't deserve my love, but I often find myself thinking about all the good times we had together. We laughed, we cried, we bitched about Cait Sith. Those were the days. But it was such a toxic relationship. I can never go back.

It's going to take a few more therapy sessions before I'm comfortable digging deeper into that. Today, I simply want to discuss a small portion of the very rich meal that is Final Fantasy VII. There are a lot of layers to this RPG onion, and I want to focus solely on the dry, dusty, useless onion skin, slowly rotting beneath the produce section lights. I'll be dissecting Square's game changing game commercial which appeared on US television ahead of the games stateside release. That's not a joke.

How did we all think Final Fantasy VII was so great? Clearly opinions have splintered in the 20 years since the game's release. It's hard to stay unbiased after many years worth of extraneous FFVII games, movies, and more games, and anime shorts. It's now pretty hazy just exactly what convinced me to love this game so much in the first place. Then I saw the original commercial again. My very sudden and brand new hypothesis is that the marketing blitz put on by Sony and Square (now Square-Enix) made sure we thought this game was going to kick every ass. It did. The commercials that aired constantly on cable television also made sure that viewers had no idea what the 'game' part of this game was. 

   So it's time to dissect a thirty second long and twenty year old commercial. This advertisement was the first glimpse of Final Fantasy for much of the US, except for nerds like me that is. That glimpse made Final Fantasy VII look like one bad ass mother fucker of an action movie, er, action game. It's a game.  You can play on the "Play Station." Somehow.

What do you even do in this game? It would appear to be some sort of motorcycle riding, helicopter chasing, explosion causing and/or preventing type action game. Maybe you get to play as an ass kicking, motorcycle riding protagonist that is also a soldier of fortune, as mentioned in the commercial! Mystery solved.

I don't know what's happening here, but it doesn't matter because I'm dead now.

Actually, I think the Soldier of fortune is the only thing this commercial gets right about Final Fantasy VII. But only if I'm being generous and assume when the voice over said "soldier" he meant SOLDIER. 

It's hard to think back to a time where we didn't know about sephiroth, JENOVA, and Cloud, the only three characters that very briefly appear in the commercial. Each with a haircut sillier than the last. None of these highly integral characters are established in any way. It's just some insane fever dream. Was that a monster?  Did it explode? Does CG hair have to look this ridiculous?

Absolutely.

I know I come hard at Final Fantasy VII like the old, jaded gamer I am, but back in '97 I was just as enamored by it as any other kid that got their kicks from playing Chrono Trigger and FFIII, I mean VI, I mean, ah fuck it. Square knew exactly what a young American gamer wanted to see. Explosions, revenge, motorcycles, soldiers of fortune, more revenge, another explosion, and another explosion and revenge, plus it's a video game!

This isn't a commercial for a hundred hour, story driven RPG from Japan (this is, and it gets me pretty damn hyped). This is a commercial for a high budget Hollywood action movie. It has more in common with trailers for Men in Black and The Fifth Element, the latest sci-fi blockbusters circa '97. This was long before Lord of the Rings made everyone very very familiar with the Fantasy genre. Back in 1997, no one in the US cared about grass or trees or magic or elves or none of that shit. Those were good times. Anyway, the folks behind advertising Final Fantasy VII knew what's up. They showed off nothing but the heavily industrial, very metallic side of Final Fantasy VII. Cannons, helicopters, motorcycles. This was some epic futuristic realism here. No magic airships, no swords, no riding on big dumb chickens! 'Wark' your ass on out of here you stupid chocobo, or is it 'kweh' now? Go 'kweh' yourself! 

"Did you unlock the motorcycle?"

"Not Quite."

Give Square some credit where it's due though, twenty years later, every major game release is marketed this way. Only cut scenes, no game play footage, and only the vaguest half paragraph outline of the plot. Makes me nostalgic for the storyline to Bosconian. Make sure your way dope commercial includes anything that would be cool to own or pilot, as long as it's a machine and not an animal, such as a very large, very colorful, very inbred bird. 

There isn't a single company fool enough to include actual gameplay in the commercial for said game. Some commercials these days don't include any images from the game at all. Even Nintendo themselves cut that shit out a few console generations ago. Well, Nintendo still tries to shove a little gameplay footage in at the end of their commercials. Unfortunately, Nintendo's stubborn respect for consumers makes for terrible marketing. Not to mention the incredible difficulty in conveying fun game play to a passive audience. Just make some jokes, or throw some babes at me, and/or a few explosions and I'm in! Buy me Bonestorm or go to hell!

Square-Enix has made a ton of missteps since the release of FFVII, which lead to the name Square-Enix itself, and my endless confusion on whether to call them Square, or Square-Enix when referring to the company when it was called Square, or was it Square LTD, I don't think it was Square EA yet, or was it EA Square in the US and Square EA in Japan… Ah fuck that too.

Actually (fixes glasses) the full name is… 

As I was saying, Square whatever has had some misfires in their long and expensive history, but damn were they on the cutting edge of logically baffling but ridiculously effective commercials.

If I'm generous, I could understand that there could be some difficulty in explaining a 70 hour epic within a 30 second teaser. Ungenerously, since this is a commercial after all. Please be skeptical of anyone selling you anything. Please? This is 30 seconds of random images and blatant lies created solely in an effort to take your money. Square got my money. Don't let them get to you too!

I'm not sure if this is the first RPG to be marketed to popcorn shoveling mongrels and not the elite console gamer class that knew what a JRPG was, or, as we called them at the time. RPGs. We didn't need more specific definitions because all console RPGs came from Japan. American companies made Bass Fishing and Bubsy, and a game starring the fucking president's cat. Who cares! Until FPS games gained some traction, US game developers would do their best to serve up nice bland plates of whatever Japan created first. 

Despite Square's best efforts, and explosions, the most insane thing about this commercial was the ending. 

:Record scratch

Appearing in the final moments of the commercial was the title "Final Fantasy VII." Wait a minute! I know what Final Fantasy is! I know exactly what Final Fantasy is! Hold on, where did four, five, and six go!?

I had already played Final Fantasy VI, although we called it Final Fantasy III back in my day. Whatever this commercial was that my eyeballs were subjected to was certainly unlike any previous Final Fantasy. Final Fantasy is about wizards and spell casting and swords and a bunch of numbers going up, sometimes down. You collect money, which you can use to buy new weapons, and you can find treasure, which is hopefully new weapons. There's just loads of text and menus. Honestly, it's all just text and menus. The point being, that there ain't none of that in this commercial, and we all know damn well there is plenty of that shit in the game. Conversely, I think every exploding building, crashing meteor, or giant energy weapon in the game is shown off in this commercial.

Before I watched this commercial several dozen times in order to form this deep and absolutely necessary analysis, I decided to make a list of a few words and phrases that come to mind when I think about Final Fantasy VII.  Play along at home. Just close your eyes and think of some of your most cherished memories with this very ridiculous game. 

Giant Swords

Armageddon

Bigger swords

Corporate greed

This guy are sick

Leveling Up

Great Music

Unlikable characters

Huge world

Huge monsters

Double crossing

Ancient stuff

Fancy wigs and dresses

Cait Sith… Fuck you Cait Sith! I never wanted you on my team in the first place you traitorous, plot advancing piece of-

Okay, I should stop there, but I think that's a good synopsis of FFVII to be honest. 

Now time to live blog this ephemeral seizure of a commercial.

There's an evil empire.

So evil it's a whole evil planet?

Giant cannon!

Modern day helicopters

Modern day motorcycle, is this Terminator?

The world is in danger! So it might be Terminator!

To Aerith: "Come with me if you want to live." No wait!

More cannons! These cannons shoot lasers!

It can shoot in this single direction though.

Was that a monster?

Quiet down in there!… You!

Everything is so shiny

At least this evil empire has some showmanship.

Great graphics!

...for the time.

There's seven of these!?

Another record scratch

This is a video game!?!?

and it's on the playstation!?

Whaaaaa…

As you can see, a few major elements of Final Fantasy VII seem to be lacking in the commercial. In a game with nine different playable characters, each with plenty of backstory, we see Cloud's dumb hair for a second, and Sephiroth staring down a robot. I remember staring at the print ad of this scene and having not a single clue what I was even looking at. Did you notice any swords in this commercial? Catch someone using a spear or inaccurately enormous shuriken shaped boomerang? There wasn't even magic. No magic in a game called Final FANTASY. No feathers, and not a single blade of grass.

If this commercial is to be believed (and who am I to not believe the very people who are trying to take my money) then this is pretty much James Bond, Blade Runner, and Armageddon, but playable. I wouldn't be shocked if this blonde haired soldier of fortune was voiced by Bruce Willis himself. Yippee ki yay Sephiroth. It's time to save the world from lasers and cannons and meteors and all kinds of other crazy crap.

Somehow…

Oh, I almost forgot, this game commercial doesn't feature any game play. Maybe it was an oversight. It's certainly not necessary to include gameplay footage. Why, Square gave us all the information we need to understand the gameplay, right in this very commercial, if you just look closely enough!

I can easily imagine the control scheme for this wild ride.

X = Motorcycle

Triangle = Revenge

Square = Explosions

Circle = Explosion based Revenge

L1+R1 = Run Away

This lack of gameplay footage is what changed video game commercials forever (except Nintendo). Nintendo was trying their hardest to show off some quality games back in the mid 90's, but that integrity lost them valuable MTV commercial real estate. Square and Sony on the other hand, began to create commercials that were more like existential references to the games in the PlayStation library, rather than provide actual details or information about why you should purchase the product featured. Nintendo clearly wanted to emulate these highly effective commercials, all while still conveying the inherent fun of Nintendo games. This meant that Nintendo became stranded in some horrible middle ground. Wanting edgy commercials with a bunch of crazy crap happening, while still conveying the style and quality of the gameplay. Don't forget to wedge some game footage in there somehow.

As reference, here is a 1996 Nintendo commercial. Coincidentally, I chose the commercial for Super Mario RPG, the final Square produced game for a Nintendo system for nearly a decade.

   Dammit Nintendo, it's like the head of your PR department is my mom. SO LAME. This commercial needs it's own analysis. I'm a life long Nintendo supporter through and through, but I have made no bones about their inability to create engaging commercials. Nintendo has been getting their asses kicked in the marketing department ever since Sega said 'Nintendon't.' Luckily Nintendo's games often speak for themselves in terms of quality game play. Of course, you would have to purchase the game to know that. Oh the irony! Every Nintendo commercial feels like the boxart to Phalanx. Baffling and unintuitive.

In fact, here's another one from 2005!

   Even after many years in this brave new world of logic free commercials, Nintendo still slides in that gameplay footage. Will they never learn?

Conclusion

Hey Square, I love all the convoluted stories, convoluted hair, and pompous cut scenes, but I also like the part where I rummage through menus to equip insane materia combinations, or just simply stealing from as many different enemies as possible. This commercial, and the frenzy for Final Fantasy VII upon launch reinforced those former attributes, sending Square into an anti-gameplay spiral that we've only begun to unravel. In the immediate aftermath of FFVII, Square gave us both the amazing 'cinematic RPG' Parasite Eve, as well as the bankruptcy inducing Final Fantasy The Spirits Within. 

Now they go by Square Enix, a little wiser, and a little less bold. They still waver between quality game play and an overzealous cut scenes, second only to the Metal Gear series (which also made Konami hemorrhage money, hmm). 

Next FFVII anniversary, I'm going to review the Knight of the Round (AKA the longest fucking thing in video games ever) in the same amount of time that the animation of Knight of the Round takes to play out. 

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