Men vs. Women on Entertainment

A new idea struck me today, and so far it wishes to be called The Bullet Code. The wife and I took a trip out to Wally World to stock up with much-needed convention supplies (*cough*booze*cough*), and as I described it I said it probably needs to be like the upcoming flick Crank: just non-stop action. What follows is the resulting conversation.

Wife: What the hell is Crank? Sounds stupid.

Me: They’re comparing it to Speed, only this guy has a poison in his system, see, and he has to keep his adrenaline levels up so the poison can’t kill him.

Wife: Wouldn’t that make the poison work faster?

(Aside: She digs Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot. She knows this stuff.)

Me: Probably, but that’s not the point. So anyway, he’s got to keep fighting and such, or he’s going to die.

Wife: Sounds stupid.

Me: Well, sure, but I just want to see if they can keep me entertained for an hour and a half of fighting. It’s got Jason Statham, the guy from Transporter, in it.

Wife: You hated that movie.

Me: Damn straight. But Jason Statham kicks ass. It’s gonna be all (I proceed to make Bruce Lee Kung Fu noises and chop the dashboard — the Midget and Squirt chime in with the same from the far back seat) for an hour and a half, baby!

Wife: An hour and a half of fighting. That’s it?

Me: I don’t know. There’ll be car chases. And he’s got to get the guy who poisoned him, maybe figure out why. Get his revenge, that sort of thing.

Wife: But what happens when he stops? He’s gonna have to go to bed, or go potty or something.

(Aside 2: While I am certain Jason Statham does something in the restroom, “going potty” is probably not what he calls it. But do keep in mind, we have three children under the age of 4, and it’s frowned upon when I say the Squirt “has shit himself again.”)

Me: No, my understanding is it’s one long sequence. It’s in realtime, so the plot basically takes an hour and a half or whatever. Besides, maybe if he does go to the can, he can fight the turd out. (And yes, I pantomimed this little process, too, with plenty of grunts and taunts. Yes, taunts. You’re lucky I don’t have video.)

Wife: (Rolls eyes. I get that a lot.)

Me: Or maybe he can vigorously rub one out while he’s taking a leak. Of course, then he wouldn’t be able to take a leak…

Wife: Oh, yeah, that’d be nice to see on screen.

Me: (Thinking — which is usually dangerous.) Heeeyyyy… What if he nailed his girlfriend in the process?

Wife: Oh Lord. (I get this a lot, too.)

Me: Yeah! He runs in there, knocks one out, then runs away. And she doesn’t even know what hit her.

Wife: I know the feeling.

Me: That’s just mean.

Wife: They probably already have it in the movie. So what happens when he catches the guy who poisoned him?

Me: I’m sure Statham will kick his ass, maybe get the antidote.

Wife: And how’s he supposed to do that? He’s going to stop and have this conversation with the guy, and then he’s gonna die.

Me: Maybe he kicks the crap out of the bad guy while he’s talking.

Wife: Yeah? And then how’s the bad guy supposed to get the antidote? He’s getting his butt kicked all over the place!

Me: Hmm. I dunno. I guess I’ll find out.

Wife: Yeah, by yourself!

And there you have it: the difference between men and women when it comes to entertainment.