We’ve come to a point with the new movie where reality gets to do a pass at the script and I am told things like “We can’t hit Barry with dozens of porcelain dolls. Those things are expensive.” and “The SAG requirements for endangering a child’s life are absurd and unaffordable.”
A man falls to the ground in a crowded restaurant. Frantic, one of his companions shouts, “He’s dying! There’s only one known cure. Does anyone know the fast bit from Blues Traveler’s “Hook”?”
Confidently I raise my hand. “Let’s do this.”
Play For Blood, Remember?
I ride up to Wyatt Earp on the worst night of his life and throw my red bandana in the dirt. Lighting crashes behind us. I shout to be heard over the din of thunder. “They’re pronouncing ‘Fieri’ with a ‘T!’ We got to have some law!”
“Food Network to the bone! Right, E?” he answers.
“Not anymore. Not after this night.”