Truffle Shuffle!: It Took Me Only 33 Years To Finally Watch The Goonies

Goonies Never Say Die!

Irene Walsh: “Pants and shirts go in the… oh, forget about it. Just throw everything into cardboard boxes. Clark, can you really translate all that?”

Mouth: “For sure, Mrs. Walsh. [in Spanish] The marijuana goes in the top drawer. The cocaine and speed go in the second drawer. And the heroin goes in the bottom drawer. Always separate the drugs.”

As someone who lived through – and thoroughly enjoyed – the 80s, it is baffling how one of its decade-defining movies has hidden from me for so long. 

Seeing how 80s pop music and Retrowave have made triumphant returns to my playlist lately – and there is no joy to be had compiling my latest comics Post – the urge to do another nostalgic deely-bobber-Curly-Wurly-Chopper-ridin’ Post is naturally, overwhelming. 

So now would be an ideal time to review this cult classic. 

Remember seeing the poster in the video rental store; and can recall a girl from school claiming this to b the greatest movie ever made. 

In a bid to save their home from being demolished, Mikey, and his older brother Brand (not Brad, unfortunately – aow! opportunity missed right there) and their other misfit friends set out to find One-Eyed Willie’s treasure. 

This marked the debut of Josh Brolin, who – after Avengers: Infinity War and Deadpool 2 last year – is hot right now, so it was particularly interesting to see how he began his film career. Also, other younglings included Sean Astin, now more famous to have starred in the Lord Of The Rings trilogy, the Chinese kid from Indiana Jones and The Temple Of Doom, and the then-ubiquitous Corey Feldman (let’s be honest, if he wasn’t available, this film would not have been made! 😉 )

Despite its fervent fan following, The Goonies has never been shown on British terrestrial TV.

Until this Christmas of course.

This is actually directed by Richard (Superman, Lethal Weapon) Donner. Although Spielberg is credited as just Executive Producer here, this movie overflows with his stylistic and kid-centred trademarks.

Yes, within the opening ten minutes, this viewer was hooked. We instantly get to know what this gang are like, what they are (in)capable of, and – guess what? – unlike some other buddy movies, you quickly feel compelled to actually care about what happens to these guys.

It’s a great introductory scene – already re-watched it countless times! – and one that needed to be put up here:

goonies-1985-mikey-with-1-eyed-willy

Stef: “Data, where are you going?”

Data: “I’m setting booty traps.”

Stef: “You mean booby traps?”

Data: “That’s what I said! BOOBY TRAPS! God, these guys!”

If there’s one thing that Brad really digs in an adventure movie, then it just has to be boobytraps, and The Goonies is loaded with some really wicked contraptions! 

And you really can’t go wrong with a pirate’s treasure plotline, plus a groovy shot of Willie’s skeletal crew still in situ, all seated around a banqueting table. Half-expected them to rise up to clank and chase the Goonies around the decks! But this sounds like Pirates of The Caribbean could do with a re-watch… 😉

Crucially, it’s tough trying to find this degree of (entertaining!) thrills, energy – and vibes –in any other movie.

The gripes are (thankfully) few:

Please spare me those turkeys: the Fratelli brothers (Robert Davi and Joe Pantoliano). Evil henchmen who turn out to be bumbling cretins has to be Hollywood’s most overused trope – it’s certainly the most tiresome; can’t recall any movie (from the last thirty years alone) in which such “characters” actually worked. 

Sloth –  that other Fratelli brother locked away in the cellar – may have his fans, but his inclusion seemed to be a tad unnecessary. Perhaps his grotesque visage dissuaded me from watching The Goonies back in the day? Is it just me, or does accentuating such a disfigured individual for comedic purposes make for uncomfortable viewing…?

This point – and those brothers – could have dropped my Rating to 3-stars. 

Perhaps parts of the dialogue don’t work. Thought there would be more quotable one-liners herein. Some of the gags aren’t laughable as they ought to be and the cracks not wise enough, but at least this show more than makes up for this personal niggle with visual tricks and treats aplenty.  

And probably the action does descend to noisy and shambolic levels towards the end, but then again, it’s a sign that yours truly really has outgrown this brand of adolescent tomfoolery.

Or has he…? 😉

goonies-1985-1520

Andy: “I can’t tell… if it’s an “A sharp” or if it’s a “B flat”!”

Mikey: “Heh, if you hit the wrong note, we’ll all “B flat!””

Don’t worry:

this dude is not going to bang on about how they don’t make ’em like they used to, but The Goonies perfectly illustrates why its wild and rollicking formula worked back then. And why such adventure films are never made nowadays (and even if they were, they wouldn’t work anyway).

One scene in particular (you can watch it below!) best exemplifies this:

Following their plunge down a water slide, the Goonies emerge in a cavern to discover One-Eyed Willie‘s pirate ship. If this movie was made now, that ship would have been CGed by a horde of animators: no magic, no wonder; in 1985, this huge plot-device came specially painstakingly constructed. and only for just a fleeting glimpse shot! 

Gawd, such practicalities are what makes this 80s stuff endure. (And what current movie-makers have neglected to heed). Having finally watched it once, will Brad watch this 1985 thrill-ride again?

Oh yes. 

Somewhere, somehow – hopefully some time soon it will be great to “hang out” with that cheeky, crazy, but irresistibly groovy bunch known as the Goonies once more – oh, what the hey! – or a few times more.

A few more truffle shuffles won’t hurt…

God, these guys! 😉

 

BRADSCRIBE VERDICT: 

“This is ridiculous. It’s crazy. I feel like I’m babysitting, except I’m not getting paid”

 

goonies-1985-poster

Francis Fratelli: “Hey, kid! I want you to spill your guts, tell us everything!”

Chunk: “Everything?”

Francis Fratelli: “Everything.”

Chunk: “Everything. OK, I’ll talk! In third grade, I cheated on my history exam. In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max’s toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play. In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog… When my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat kids and then they served lunch I got nuts and I pigged out and they kicked me out!”

A Winter’s Tale: Reflection And Rejuvenation On A Woodland Walk

A New Year: A New Hope…?

“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness” – John Muir.

Foamfollower’s question caught him wandering. “Are you a story-teller, Thomas Covenant?” 

Absently, he replied, “I was, once.”  

“And you gave it up? Ah, that is as sad a tale in three words as any you might have told me. But a life without a tale is like a sea without salt. How do you live…?”

How indeed… 

You must have noticed.

The words have not flowed on this site as one would like. Sure, my gobsmackworthy powers of expression and composition did not miraculously return with the chimes of Big Ben the other night, but all is not lost! As Ovid once said: “Perfer et obdura!” (Be patient and hold out!)

One great – and highly recommended – way for anyone to slip back into their creative groove is to escape from their desk and explore the outdoors. Supposedly, the biting nip in the air during this particular season should do wonders for my stuffy cranium. Sometimes, the crashing sounds of the surf can usually entice me down to the beach, but today, the opposite direction is taken.

On top of the hill looming majestically over our village, lies “The Ring” – a glorious local nature reserve named after a ring of beech trees planted up here in the late 18th century. Signs of habitation on this prominent point date back into prehistoric times, and traces of a Roman temple were unearthed back in the 50s, so the charm of this spot has been entrancing people for centuries. 

Would proclaim myself: “Lord Of The Ring,” (oHO!  😉 ) but nah. The WordPress masses no longer swing by this site these days, and one doesn’t wish to lose his last few remaining readers by dispensing such cheap ‘cracks as that!

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone…

“In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there. They struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws…

“A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else…” – Hermann Hesse.

“Of the mastersmiths in the Northlands that were, and of their marvellous skills, the Winter Chronicles tell many tales. Greatest is that of-” 

Brad, who, rather than stay on a crowded train reluctantly listening to such inconsequential babble emanating from endless banks of smartphones, you are more likely to find him trudging through the beechwoods, high atop The Ring, lost in the garrulous harmony of jays, nuthatches, robins and even the odd fastidious crow… 

Why should this ol’ dude, now sporting a formidably bushy crumbcatcher, spend either his time or creds on such flaccid fare as Aquaman or Bumblebee, when this season boasts a positively splendiferous plethora of maidenhair spleenworts and their effulgent yellow-green pinnae?!

One arborial landmark in particular (see above!) entices me every time with its fantastical, Middle-Earth-like charm. Nicknamed it the “Elf Tree,” ‘cos you half expect an elf, goblin, or some frabjous form of faeriekind to lurk beneath its bark… 

Whatever magickal and bewitching fantasy land lies deep beyond its gnarly roots: take me there!! For it can only be infinitely superior to this mundane madhouse we call the Real World, with its gaggles of dunderheaded politicians – on BOTH sides of The Pond! – bickering pathetically amongst themselves while We, The People, suffer as our socio-economic institutions are left to ROT.

And what about that other 21st century gripe of mine?!

My foray into social media (up until three years ago) did not last long. Upon finding old “friends,” the general consensus seemed to be: “Uff, he’s STILL alive…” And they all drifted off back to their own monotonous pursuits.

The distance – and anonymity – that social media affords has only served to increase – and embolden – the anti-social behaviour that now festers online… and on our streets. In my opinion, the uncontrollable proliferation of smartphones only makes these matters WORSE. And, regrettably, these wretched gadgets will NOT be vanishing like our ancient forests any time soon… 

It is NO coincidence that a direct link exists between such rampant modern tech and a substantial lack of care and consideration for others…

So you see, up here, amidst my own bare, leaflorn bastion of solitude, there is no reason to rant. Just savour the serenity! And you can blot out such harsh truths that – as we traipse timidly into the year in which Blade Runner is set – the economic gap between the richest and the poorest around this befuddling Pale Blue Dot of ours is now so gargantuan that it makes the Death Star look like a ping pong ball…

“If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise…”  😉

“The book of nature has no beginning, as it has no end. Open this book where you will, and if you have the desire to acquire knowledge you will find it of intense interest. No matter how long or how intently you study the pages, your interest will not flag, for in nature there is no finality” – Jim Corbett. 

“What can we look forward to in 2019?!” 

Well, you see, therein lies the problem – “looking forward” has become (for me) a most uncomfortable exercise that screams nothing but:  “Make more tawdry remakes! Be more obtuse to your fellows! Dehumanize yourself further by snapping up yet more superficial gadgets with money you don’t have!” 

NO thank you. 

In order to deal with incessant swathes of rotten luck and poor health – during this past quarter alone – the pull towards nostalgia and the joys and contentment synonymous with yesteryear become ever more comforting. And helps replenish my waning will to write. So, expect to see more nostalgic-tinted stuff on this site!

Encouragingly, Christmas week witnessed an upsurge in both the quantity and quality of my writing, and the renewal of that urge to finish and Publish more Posts!

To help avoid any more anxious loooong waits for subsequent Posts, you might like to know that my Manic Music Monday series is to be resurrected! Thus, there will be a guaranteed weekly dose of Brad while my usual Reviews and special Features (hopefully!) come to fruition! 

Any new ideas for this New Year you would like to see on Bradscribe, pls let me know!

Let me conclude then, by saying just this: 

 

The Very Happiest of New Years to you all!

 

Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
  The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,

And lo, Brad settles down this balmy eventide to write
  Long and arduously into the night… 

 

The view from atop the Ring, looking east… ^

 

…and looking west…

“Either we all live in a decent world, or nobody does…” – George Orwell. 

 

Fantastic Beats And Where To Find Them: The Grooves of Grindelwald

Brad’s Back From The Brink, And Now – Hey! – More Groovy Than Ever…

“We dance for laughter, we dance for tears, we dance for madness, we dance for fears; we dance for hopes, we dance for screams, we are the dancers, we create the dreams” – Albert Einstein. 

Weh-heh-hell! 

What a month THAT was!

Moreover, what the blazes happened to that hapless idiot who eats too much cake?! 

Thought Brad had succumbed to the wild excesses of his own bloggiversary party?

Not quite, me luvvlies… 

Grab a muffin an’ a mocha, an’ gedda loada THIS sick note…

“Put on your red shoes and dance the blues” – David Bowie. 

My creative faculties were all set to dazzle you with some spooky posts during Halloween week, but then – all of a sudden, and fer one whole bally frustrating fortnight!! – my laptop went on the blink for no apparent reason…

In addition, during the first week of November, a particularly merciless barrage of bad news, rotten luck AND poor health pummelled me into such a lousy mood that the last thing one wanted to do was write. 

During such difficult times, a playlist of frenetic hot-steppers is required, so let me share with you some of the latest platters to lift my spirits (as well as my feet).

Rather than let all my spooktacular ramblings go to waste, the Horrorthon is still scheduled to go ahead!

After all, this is the ideal season to indulge in such frightful endeavours; moreover, some of my SF seems to be seeping into darker, more eerie territory anyways, so it looks like you’re going to have to brave a way lot more than just my usual tedious text…

“Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, For I would ride with you upon the wind, 

Run the top of the dishevelled tide, And dance upon the mountains like a flame” – William Butler Yeats.

Has yours truly – whisper it – run out of ideas?!

NAY! As Thor would say.

Coming up with Posts is not the problem – trying to sustain waning levels of energy and motivation to complete any of them – especially when faced with the unenviable fact that FEWER peeps read Bradscribe than, say, 2-3 years ago – continues to be a niggling concern.

Nevertheless, Brad soldiers on regardless.

Besides, an ever-growing stack of unfinished projects now clutters my Dashboard. And let’s not neglect to mention that abundance of aeons-old journals and papers full of abandoned tales accumulating dust doing nowt but lie about the dark recesses of Brad Manor. 

This site provides a tremendous platform with which to revise (most, if not all) these works and save said endeavours for online posterity.

Yea, intrepid one, know ye this: 

you have NOT seen the last of Brad!

HUZZAH!!

“Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world” – Voltaire. 

 

“Forget your voice, sing! Forget your feet, danceForget your life, live! Forget yourself and be!” – Kamand Kojouri. 

Annnd, before he realises it, Brad is trying to complete a single Post before this month passes us by…

So, always that most faithful standby: another music compilation is cobbled together.

No worries!

December should – Dyzan willing – turn out to be such a cram-packed month full of fiction, and articles – and goodness-knows-what! – that you should all be sick of the sight of the ‘Scribe by Christmas! 😉

Cheers!

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music” – Friedrich Nietzsche.

 

High 5! The Bradscribe Celebration!

It’s Time To Come Together!

Thor: “Hey, let’s do the Bradscribe Celebration! Come on, you love it.”

Loki: “It’s humiliating.”

Thor: “Do you have a better plan?”

Loki: “No.” 

Thor: “We’re doing it.”

YAHOO!

There’s a party goin’ on right here! A celebration to last throughout the years. Come on now!

Yes, friends, it’s FIVE YEARS AGO today since Bradscribe made its first tentative steps into the blogosphere. Essentially the main platform to bring my writing to a wider readership (i.e. not just my mother) it has grown (hopefully in a healthy way) with the original SF articles and movie and book reviews now accompanied by Bronze Age (comic) Bonanzas, fiction, music compilations and – oh yes – parties. 

Such a monumental anniversary could not go unheralded. Besides, we could all do with another Bradtastic party, right? Let’s all celebrate and have a good time!

What better way to get these proceedings under feelgood way than with the Synchronised Sneakers Squad: 😉

“OH! Feels so good, doesn’t it…? I just 

can’t

help

myself!” – Doctor Stephen Strange. 

 

Freaky Facts About Bradscribe: 

 

1. Actually, my original sign-up with WordPress was made during the first months of 2012, but – thrilled at having access to my very own Dashboard from which my distinctive creativity (and waffle 😉 ) could pour forth – no matter how much the instruction manuals were read and reread, none of them made any sense; they may as well have been published in Lithuanian!

Only by constantly repeating a How To vid on YouTube did yours truly discover that the little white box in the top right corner of the Dashboard activates any  New Post…

 

2. Brad is NOT superstitious and yet over the past 60 months, not a single Post got published on the 13th day of ANY of them. At least something – even if it’s just a music Post, (the quickest and easiest to compile) – has appeared EVERY month. Strangely enough, no Posts materialised during November 2013. As soon as the technical side to blogging was mastered, so me ol’ mucker Writer’s Block came a-knockin’. HA!

 

3. Posts have been published in 3 different countries. Having watched – and thoroughly enjoyedBirdman in Singapore (in February 2015an equally enjoyable night was spent at a 24-hours Starbucks typing up this Review: 

 

4. Passing the 200 Followers milestone (in February 2017 is (Statswise) my most successful Post with 21 Likes and 36 Comments. 

My most popular Post remains my tribute to one of the greatest actors: Peter Cushing It’s the one where the majority of my Spam Comments tend to accumulate. Although some are unintelligible – or in Portuguese – these are unanimously positive and full of praise – or giving tips on how to improve my hydroponics system… 0_0

The next two clickbaits in the Bradscribe Archives honour a couple of the most iconic female characters in popular culture: Rey Of Light: Who’s That Girl? and Here’s To Hela: The Girl With The Awesome Antlers

 

5. The first video to appear here happened to be the trailer for Ex Machina in January 2015. 

Not comfortable with the way in which the text of this site looked too gargantuan on other consoles, and miffed that new readers could not access my wonderful About page, the decision to change my Theme was taken in June 2015. 

The first gif – now a (beloved?) mainstay around here – featured (of all people) Max Von Sydow (!) and appeared during this fiction Post: in August 2015. 

Dr. Hank Pym: “Hiya, champ, how was school today?”

Scott Lang: “Aw, ha ha ha! Alright, get your jokes out now, can you fix the suit?”

Hope van Dyne: “So cranky…”

Speaking of shining stars, ;-) this site would be nothing without YOU. 

Surely, the main aim of avy blogger is TO BE READ, yes? Taking this opportunity to extend gushing gratitude and virtual hugs to you all! 

The main reason to get embroiled in this blogging lark was to meet and chat with a myriad of groovy, like-minded peeps. Starting out all those moons ago, admittedly, there was some trepidation: would other bloggers be kind and sane peeps to converse with?! Moreover, would they be sociable with Brad? At all?!

No worries. 

Such intelligent, interesting and witty individuals you are! Just the sort of lovely folk one expects to find in the local village.

And another reason why you are all so amazing? 

You got soul! If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be in here 😉

Peter Quill: “I like your plan. Except, it sucks. So let me do the plan and that way it might be really good.”

Drax: “Tell him about the dance-off to save the Universe.”

 

Behold! The 5 Most Gobsmacking Moments @ The Movies In The Last 5 Years: 

 

2014 

X-Men: Days Of Future Past

If I could save time in a bottle…”

“Prison break? That’s illegal, you know?” – Pietro Maximoff.

 

2015

Mad Max: Fury Road 

The Perfect Storm!

“Angharad, is that just the wind or is it some furious vexation?” – The Dag.

 

2016

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

You don’t know the power of the Dark Side... until his Lordship kindly gives us a demonstration…

“Be careful not to choke on your aspirations, Director” – Darth Vader.

 

2017

Thor: Ragnarok

She’s not a queen. Or a monster. She doesn’t hold back neither! 

“…But it can’t be you. You’re just the worst” – Thor.

 

2018

Avengers: Infinity War

SNAP to it!

“You should have gone for the head…” – Thanos.

Hey!

Is it possible that something got left out here?!

Can YOU think of a scene – shown on the big screen within the last five years – that needs to feature on this list?

As always, your awesome Comments will be very much appreciated! 

“He’s not so bad… deep down he’s all fluff… He’s also a huge dork. Chicks dig that!” – Natasha Romanoff.

Okey-dokey then, enough about ME!

Hope you have enjoyed these grooves, gags and gifs – thank you ever so much for popping round.

As long as WordPress continues, there will ALWAYS be good times and laughter on the site endearingly known as Bradscribe. For the rest of this month, it’s back to the spooky stuff as we hurtle hectically towards Halloween. 

Had intended to round off this one-in-a-half-decade jamboree with a few deep and profound words, but really: can anyone still see/hear me above that joyous cacophony of loud music, merry banter and balloons popping?!

So, in eager anticipation of many many more positive and productive Posts ahead, let me just wish you ALL: 

A Very Happy Triple Choc Cheesecake Peanut Butter Caramel Cake!! 🙂

“Yes, it’s true…! We’re all here together… truly together, for our hearts are open books and this atmosphere breeds understanding and mutes the ego. Here we are all one, and in this oneness there can only be… love” – Adam Warlock. 

 

Fantastic Beats And Where To Find Them: Vol. 4

Now A Trilogy In 4 Parts! 

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Korg. I’m kind of like the leader in here. I’m made of rocks, as you can see, but don’t let that intimidate you. You don’t need to be afraid, unless you’re made of scissors! Just a little Rock, Paper, Scissors joke for you” – Korg.

Hiya! How ya doin’? Thought you’d be glad to see me! 

Apologies for the extended absence from your WordPress Reader. 

The first half of this month was spent writing this, that and the other. Tried writing a few round-ups of Bronze Age comics – they didn’t sing, didn’t fly, no matter how much frenetic fiddling went into them. Various other intriguing topics occupied my time and energy, but actually completing any of these Posts proved to be inexplicably challenging. 

Two weeks ago, at the height of an unusually rare heatwave, yours truly took a few days off, hoping that my creative batteries would be recharged. Nevertheless, on setting down to write again, my “talent” still lay on a beach somewhere…

Perhaps something quick and easy -like a music Post – would suffice?

No! 

Determined to combat this lull in activity and produce something awesome again, decided to open up totally new reviews and discussions. 

Another week later, and… 

Ah well, quick and easy it is then, just in time to close this gruelling month. Anyway, it’s been ages since the last Fantastic Beats, right?

With over a million new Posts loaded on WordPress each day, the “experts” advise making your blog as distinctive as possible.

Well, where else during any weekend can you find a disco lovingly illustrated with some of my fave quotes from Thor: Ragnarok (a DVD that only recently made its way into my MCU Collection!) and Seinfeld gifs?!

Honestly, what are the chances of finding anything around here quite like Bradscribe?!

“I have been falling… for 30 minutes!” – Loki. 

Give up blogging altogether…? 

Ever-diminishing Stats, and no new “Followers” since the Obama administration sound like reasonable excuses to jack it all in.  

However, Brad is NOT a quitter! 

Besides, popularity is an alien concept to me. Heck, this is the kid who was so insignificant at school that the bullies never noticed him!

Apart from derelict blogposts, there is still a hefty number of unfinished novels and short stories lying around here. This site (when at the peak of my powers!) can help address this unwanted backlog – WordPress has, easily, provided the most conducive platform on which to churn out my own unique stuff.

Music, generally, is a good motivator/inspiration for my writing. And, every so often, a truly monumental stomper pops up that gets the ol’ noddle working.  

Here is the One for this Volume:

“No, no, no. I don’t even like Hulk. He’s always like, grr… smash, smash, smash. I prefer you!” – Thor. 

“The Lightning Field has collapsed, sir!” 

What?! How can this be?”  

“It’s no good, Captain – the outer perimeter has been breached! Our MB Space is diminishing at an exponential rate!”

“Scanners detect something massive and malevolent approaching at high velocity.”

“Titan’s moons!! What- what IS it?!”

“It- it’s the Swarm Intelligence…”

Thor: “I love what you’ve done with the place. Redecorated and everything.”

Hela: “It would seem our father’s solution to every problem was to cover it up.”

Thor: “Or cast it out. He told you you were worthy. He said the same thing to me.”

Hela: “You see, you never knew him, not at his best. Odin and I drowned entire civilizations in blood and tears. Where do you think all this gold came from…?”

It occurred to me that after all this time, one of my all-time fave pop vids has never appeared in my own blog.

Might as well rectify that right now.

Th DJ aka Norman Cook is a local boy – our paths have crossed twice in the village supermarket; but the chances of bumping into the legend that is Christopher Walken – in this case: Christopher Dancen 😉 – in said supermarket seem just as likely as ever completing my Review of... oh, forgotten the name of the bally thing, it’s been so long… 

And to think that this beloved star of The Anderson Tapes and Annie Hall started off as a professional dancer. 

Well, by Jiminy, didn’t we all…?

Thor: “If you knew where he was, why didn’t you call me?”

Dr. Stephen Strange: “I had to tell you. He did not want to be disturbed. Your father. He had chosen to remain in exile. And you don’t have a phone.”

Thor: “No, I don’t have a phone but you could have sent me an electronic letter. It’s called an e-mail.”

Dr. Stephen Strange: “Yeah. Do you have a computer?”

Thor: “No. What for?”

Another reason for me to keep on pressin’ on is the fact that only two months stand between us and the 5th Anniversary of Bradscribe.

Naturally, let’s make a big song and – hahaha! – dance about all this, with special features, lists and – oh yes – a party or three 😉

And if such a grand jamboree finally burns Brad out for good, then at least he’ll be going out on a high note!

“I just, I gotta say. I’m proud of you all. This revolution has been a huge success. Yay us! Pat, pat on the back. Pat on the back. Come on. No? Me, too. ‘Cause I’ve been a big part of it. Can’t have a revolution without somebody to overthrow! So, ah, you’re welcome. And, uh, it’s a tie” – Grandmaster.

So here we are: on the verge of pressing Publish for the first time since… too long, that’s for sure…

During the next few days, oh course, another Post – preferably one featuring some original work – will see the light of day(!) Hopefully, September will turn out to be more favourable month writewise for me.

For our closing foot-tapping selection, here is a classic beat that you might not have expected, but – as you will no doubt have noticed – is just typical of the zany material you have come to expect from this site.

And just what the blazes is goin on in that gif?!

Is that what a trouser press looks like…? 

“Guys, we’re coming up on the Devil’s Anus!” – Bruce Banner. 

 

Dead Cool At Dork’s Drift: A Fartlighter Story

DON’T Fire At Will! What’s ‘E Ever Done Ta YOU?!

“Gotta hand it to ya, Totem Pole – either you’re hard as nails or scared as shit: WHICH ONE IS IT?!” – Griff. 

 

Magnum Farce! 

Whilst trying to deliver vital consignments of food and supplies to the long-suffering peeps of the planet Woebegon in the Vairdafujarwi System, Brad Company barely managed to dodge some unwanted attention from a cluster of Zandokan patrol-ships.  

Will it be a classic case of out of the marzipan and into the ire as they head towards the hopeless station of Dork’s Drift? 

In amidst all this excitement, the irrepressible Battleforce-Commander-turned-blogger is bound to bump into an ol’ frenemy… 

 

“Innit bloomin’ marvellous?!” Brad wondered as the Calista Blockhead descended into the planet’s atmosphere.

“No mat’er ‘ow many marksmen the Empire can muster, as long as I’m onboard, they can’t put in a precise shot on target! Aah… the gift a’ bein’ – ‘an bein’ wiva groovy galactic ‘ero – it’s GREAT ‘avin’ me arahnd, eh…?! ‘Ello… …?”

“Yo, Brad,” Helmsman Gaz suddenly drawled. “Look lively, m’man – the Purple Haze is entering this sector @ 2:10-“

“Kronsteen?! What in blue blazes is that nerk an’ ‘is combo: Oprah’s ‘Ombres doin’ follerin’ us-?!” 

“Don’t slouch, Blondie,” warned Second Officer Lexi Waldorf. “But MY sensors have also picked up the Harsh Mallow coming out of hyperspace just beyond the Rigellian Ridge-“

“The Harsh…? Uff, stone the flamin’ Porgs, that’s none other than-“

“Ya gotcha! Moab Mungoflumpz: the notorious Gundagun bounty hunter.”

“Blimey, ya’d ‘avta be notorious wiv an ‘andle loike THAT… What in Edrio Two-Tubes’ name is goin’ on ‘ere?! Is this a convention, or what?!”

“Hey! Yer not only a groovy galactic ‘ero, but quite th popular one- Whoa, ‘eads up, mate,”

Harris fiddling with the Intercom. “Yer ol’ mukka: Kronst is ‘ailin’ us!”

“Well, fer cakes’ sake, fella! Switch ta Audio – dahn’ wan’ ‘is ugly mug breakin’ our main screen! Nah, on second thots, let’s jus’ skip it – Company! We got work ta do! I can’t stop ta mess arahn’ – the original Fartligh’er’s in tahn!”

“Just don’t do anything I would do, and definitely don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. There’s a little grey area in there and that’s where you operate, alright…? That’s not a hug, I’m just grabbing the door for you. Good luck out there” – Tony Stark. 

“Okey-dokey, then, y’all know wotcha doin’?” Brad softly exclaimed to Lexi as he loaded his backpack with survival kit, supplementary respiratory apparatus and extra rations of cupcakes.

“Sure thing, Commander,” she nonchalantly replied, leaning against the doorway of the Battleforce-Commander-turned-blogger‘s cluttered quarters. “Gaz, Lee, Monty and I will deliver the goodsOkizaki will beam us back when we’re done, while you check in with Supervisor Waldo aow, for goodness sake…” she stepped closer staring intensely into th hapless hero’s deep blue eyes. “You be extra CAREFUL out there, Brad – something tells me this just might be -“

“A trap? Heh, isn’ everythin’ in this “business,” lov…?”

“Well, also, watch out for the rest of ‘is goons – they’re as demented as fudge and have no hesitation to take matters into their own hands-“

“Or take their own fists inta other people’s mat’ers – yeah, I know, I’ve run inta them on numerous occasions…”

“Nevertheless, I’m still going to keep my eye on you… just in case…”

“Really appreciate that, lov. I want ya ta know that-”

“Blimey Charley, Brad!” Chief Engineer Harris Wrench interjected. “Why d’ya ‘avta get mixed up wiv Kronst- huh, talk a’ the Devil! Would ya Adam-an’-Eve it? ‘E’s tryin’ ta ‘ail ya AGAIN!”

“Well, shut ‘im orf. Again! Let’s get on wivvit, Company!” 

“But what if ‘e follas ya down there? An’ confronts ya, like?”

“Y’know me, ‘Arris! Got a few wisecracks an’ put-dahns lined oop.”

“Delivered in yer own, inimitable way, nah doubt?”

“Yo momma…” 

“I was wondering when El Kapitan would get a chance to use his popgun” – Palmer. 

“UFFF, FFFLAMIN’ FAJITAS!!” Brad growled as a laserblast slammed into his shoulder. He’d only just walked through the door and found the welcome not as hospitable as he’d hoped…

“‘Ere, what th blazes?!” he spluttered as he flopped to his knees. “Since when are the bad guys such good shots…?!” 

“When the bounty on ya is so frickin’ high!” drawled the all-too-familiar peel of Captain Kronsteen, psychotic leader of Oprah’s ‘Ombres, as he lunged over to switch on the desk lamp, illuminating his unmistakable, twisted features.  

“Flamin’ Nora, look what the Wompa dragged in… What the blazes didya do with Waldo?!”

“That moofmilker? Had a close encounter with my rifle butt left ‘im zedding away on the couch in the next room. Personally, yer only good use ta me, Fartlighter, is as target practice, but I’ve come here fer the shop – so let’s talk it, fella.”

“Okey-dokey, but I’m seriously dischuffed by this bonkers twist – I’m in an ‘urry, so bet’er make this snap’y. Spill the beans, fella – wotcha want?” 

“Oh really? Your high cheekbones an’ insuff’rable pecs are suddenly in big demand now, huh? So… here we are, dumbass, two thrill-seekers meeting in a Dyzan-forsaken hole o’ the galaxy, while the hopelessly inept Federation crumbles – you really believe you’re serving a just cause?” 

“‘Ey man, chill, know wha’ I’m sayin’? Why can’tcha be mo’ migh’y fine, Kevin Bacon an’ dandy? Like me an’ me Company? Why d’ya ‘avta be such a-“

“ENOUGH, Dipwit! Don’tcha DARE say anythin’ goldarned SMART. Why should I spare a thought for these… dregs? It’s not my problem…”

“Not yer…?! Oof, reverse thrust wiv THAT attitude, Crotchstain. I tell ya: the last thing Brad wants ta do is sit back an’ wateh while the provincial planets suffer. I see NAHbody else intervenin’ – so it’s got’a be us. Heck, if we can make a diiff’rence, we’ll certainly try-“

“Uff, spare me,” Kronsteen muttered irritably. “Reckon I shoulda’ finished you off when I ‘ad the chance – shoulda’ aimed straight fer yer heart instead, but YOUR ticker’s bleedin’ far too much already-“

“Shoulda’ thought a scrote like you wouldn’t know where the heart was anyways…”

“Ha! Cute… From what I hear, Fartlighter, you’ve become quite a sought-after dude since your little fracas with the Emperor on his flagship Hacked off just about every Imperial nerk this side a’ the Oort Cloud, AND – of course – we witnessed you recently escaping from prison-“

“Yeah, heh heh, get’in’ quite notorious in me middle age, ain’ I?”

“An’ I hear Zan Doka ‘imself has despatched his very own cut-throat praetorian division: the Kriegzlide Killzquad ta bring ya back – ya know what I can get right now fer handin’ you in…?” 

“Egg custard tarts?”

“Wrong again, Bright Eyes – yer bounty now stands @ 75,000 creds-“

“WHOA, would ya Adam-an’-Eve it! I’m now worth more than me own crate? HA!”

“DON‘T crack wise with me, fella – one wrong move an’-“

“An’ you’ll BOTH be kissin’ the dirt! So DON’T try anythin’ stoopid!”   

The door swung wide open and they turned to watch a grotesquely obese Gundagun dwarf waddle frantically towards them, brandishing a blaster.

“Blimey Charley!” Brad gasped. “It’s a talking beachball on legs!” 

The seething three-footer turned his blaster on the Cakecharmer. “An’ don’t SAY anythin’ stoopid neither!” 

“Grief, that’ll be the day with this jackass…” Kronsteen sighed.

Moab swung his blaster towards the Ombres’ Head Honcho instead. “YOU! Kronsteen? Are coming with me! Somebody levelled a sizable bounty on your despicable head!”

“WHAT?! That’s the most ridiculous- There is NO bounty on me, Shrimp-” 

“Lookee here, Longshanks!” the Gundagan chirped sternly, enthusiastically brandishing a gadget displaying the Captain’s mugshot. “See the eye-patch? The scowl? All those warts that spell out: ‘Bad Attitude’? That’s YOU, that is! You’re coming with me!”

“Woohoo! Way ta go, Migh’y Mo!” Brad bawled.

“An’ you, what’s-yer-face,” the dwarf frowned at the hero. “You seem to be taking a most unusual pleasure in all this… are we cool…?” 

“As ice, man…”

“For the umpteenth time,” Kronsteen butted in. “Point that blaster someplace else, Short Round. Why don’tcha go fer the REAL bounty, like this-“

“Yeah, man!” Brad interrupted. “Like goin’ fer this notorious Cakecharmer-chappyapparently ‘is boun’y is bigger than ‘is own crate, hyuk hyuk hyuk…” the Battleforce-Commander-turned-blogger quipped.

Kronsteen spun round, enraged: “You’re jus’ lovin’ this… aintcha?” 

‘ELL YEAH! Ev’ry minute, baby…”

He’s a looney. Just like his tunes…” – Bats. 

A laserblast rang out.

The lamp exploded, and in the abrupt darkness, Moab screamed and Kronsteen bellowed. And Brad yelped as someone grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the office.

“Shoosh, Commander. Hurry! We gotta split – another Zandokan patrol-ship is onto us!” Lexi whispered as they ran down the corridor. “Okey-dokey, Okizaki! Me and the blond bombshell are ready to beam up! NOW!”

Meanwhile, in the Transporter Room of the Purple Haze, two figures materialized.

“Who the blazes is THAT?!” Drogen the Transporter guy cried the moment he saw Moab standing alongside Kronsteen. 

“NOT BRAD, OBVIOUSLY, DIPWIT!” the Captain stormed. “What a cosmic screw-up – you were supposed to beam up the six-foot Terran, but NO! Ya had ta pick up a three-foot Gundagan instead! GAH! Captain to the Bridge! Open hailing frequencies with the Calista! I want that-!”

“But Sir, the Calista no longer appears on our scopes…” Tabasco Tuffnutz replied.

“WHAT?! How can this be…?!”

“They made the jump to lightspeed while you were too busy monologuin’…”

‘Twas true: Tabasco stared into his monitor, squinting at the trail of ionised particles sparkling against the blackest blanket of space – the only sign the Calista had left behind.

“…An’ you LET them ESCAPE…? Hey, Dumbo, flap yer ears an’ ventilate yer BRAINS!! What do I PAY you DIPWITS for, exactly?! “Gah, fer the love a’-”  The enraged Captain grabbed Moab, and growled: “Okey-dokey, Short Round! WHO set the bounty on ME?!”

“Some Terran… b-by th name of Br-Br-Brad-!”

Brad Burrito Fartlighter, I presume?!” he winced.

“Aha! That’s the bunny! What… you know him?”

“KNOW HIM?! I practically wasted this whole episode talkin’ down to him!” 

“That?! That was th C-Ca-Cakecharmer…?! But… nah, that dashin’ fella couldn’t have been him – he was badly wounded in the shoulder – galactic heroes NEVER get-” 

GAH! DON’T lecture me, halfling! Fer someone so SMALL, yer mouth is too BIG!” Kronsteen hollered, hurling the pint-sized bounty hunter into Drogen’s clutches. “We’ll drop off this insignificant lil sideshow – who has no bearing on the plot WHATsoever – on that casino-planet we passed on the way over here…”

The enraged leader of Oprah’s ‘Ombres brandished his fist against the tapestry of distant stars stretching before them on the Main Screen. 

BRAD!! NEXT TIME, I WON’T hang around makin’ idle chit-chat, you’re gonnayou’re gonna- UFF!! You CANNOT evade me forever, jackass – goldarn it… 

“If I havta scour the galaxy fer the

RESTA’

MAH

DAYS

trackin’ you an’ yer accursed, goody two-shoes Company down…

GAH! Just as well yer gettin’ another blasted sequel real soon, hero ya AIN’T heard the last a’ Captain Korsten Kronsteen!!” 

 

“We’re just like Kevin Bacon” – Gamora.

 

“The Purfuit Of Happineff”: Happy 4th Of July To All My American Friends!

Hip Hip Hooray! Let’s Hear It For The US Of A!

“You can’t do this to me, I’m an American!” – Marion Ravenwood. 

Howdy!

For this Post, considering how the majority of you live Stateside, thought it best to write something worth reading, or do something worth writing.

As far as one can remember, America always had something bigger and better to offer. British television: yes, all three channels, just two if you include the broadcasters’ strike (one of many in various sectors to cripple the UK during the late-’70s) languished in the doldrums. Even Doctor Who – that longest-running bastion of SF TV, its already-miniscule fx budget hindered even further by a technicians’ strike at the BBC!  – could not compete against the flashier, more expensive likes of Battlestar Galactica, Buck Rogers, or The Muppet Show, The Incredible Hulk, Starsky & Hutch, Kojak(!) (et al, etc. etc.) for that matter. Who (else) did we have? Metal frickin’ Mickey, that’s who – who?? Exactly!! 

Compared to the subsequent decade, The British Film Industry offered larger, more expensive than usual, but ultimately unattractive movies, but nothing like those two gargantuan smashes of 1977 and 1980 respectively (you know what they were!) that sent cinema queues trailing down the street. And then around the corner. 

So finger-lickin’ good: American comics, American toys – heck, even American words – dominated our school playground. Yay, our precious post-punk platters led the way in the pop parade, but let’s face it, our own Claire Grogan was cute, but Debbie Harry was gorgeous.

Still, my father actually spent some time in the US during the ’60s, and was that close to getting a really great job in aviation – so, for that brief time (28 years ago) Brad found himself the centre of attention for once! Until one of the other kids announced that his Dad actually was American, and the throng gravitated to his side of the bike shed, eager to catch a glimpse of the bigger and better delights he could reveal from his Starsky & Hutch satchel. 

Gah!

Anyway, one of the various quality products that my father brought back with him – and enriched my childhood – included a classic Stan Freberg long-player (in Stereo!) 

It’s in, it’s very in! 😉

“Tell me and I forget. Teach me and I remember. Involve me and I learn” – Benjamin Franklin.

Now, onto American music.

Generally, my music tastes gravitate towards the Blues, Soul and Jazz – all the phenomenal African-American essentials. 

Which is my favorite American band, you ask?

Gee, that’s a toughie. 

The Doors immediately excite the senses, but what gets me every time has to be Creedence Clearwater Revival. Ever since Bad Moon Rising caught my attention in An American Werewolf In London, they have held a very special place in my heart. And my record collection!

During the Vietnam War, thousands of American servicemen were stationed @ U Tapao, Nong Kok and other bases in Thailand. Countless bars – playing music of that era, including Creedence, sprang up all over the place. Most of these guys left long ago, but, most of the bars – still playing music of that era, including Creedence – remain. 

This was always my go-to tune on Karaoke Night:

“My God! How little do my countrymen know what precious blessings they are in possession of, and which no other people on Earth enjoy!” – Thomas Jefferson.

Just thought it would he groovy to fill this gap to ask:

How will you be celebrating today? Where will you go? What will you eat? How many fireworks are required? 

Is it the same every year? 

Will be thrilled to read your Comments! 🙂

Chon Wang: “The English are not very friendly.”

Roy O’Bannon: “They’re just sore losers.”

Chon Wang: “What did they lose?”

Roy O’Bannon: “A little thing called the American Revolution, Chon… They came over with about a million men. We had a bunch of farmers with pitchforks and beat ’em like a drum.”

Politics! Hoo-boy…

The political systems in both the US & UK these days are as mad as a bicycle. And then some. 

Today, your fest may not have the right zest, or your grub may lack the necessary relish, whilst grudgingly knowing that such a deplorable doofus is running your country (into the ground), but your Brit correspondent here would like to assure you that my thoughts are with you during these very trying times. 

You will NOT see Brad meddling in politics – by Jove, no!

Why, the very word itself is detestable: consisting of “poli” which means “more than one” – yours truly is an old-fashioned type o’ fella: can only handle one lousy inconvenience at a time. While “tics” are bloodsucking parasites. 

You see? Not my scene.

At all…

Couldn’t proceed without this BBC comedy gem from 1980, the year in which current affairs analysts on both sides of The Pond could not envisage a ’50s B-movie star in the White House. 

Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat! How times have changed…

“When I was a kid, my Mum said: ‘Work hard, you can become President!’ because I grew up in a Disney film. That was back when we believed that Presidents were righteous and honorable… Here’s the kicker: according to the odds, there is 40% chance that, as President, somebody is going to try to assassinate you, but there is a 100% chance of character-assassination…” – Rich Hall. 

Fact: Brad did not travel overseas until his early-20s. 

As my inaugural trip outta Blighty, guess the only one desirable destination that sprung to mind.

Yep! That’s right: during May 1996 – one of the highlights of this boy’s life – Brad spent a fortnight on YOUR side of The Pond. Manhattan, to be exact – sight-seeing (searching for those crucial movie locations, mainly). There was no need to fret over how to wrangle a cab to get me to the IYH (International Youth Hostel) – sitting next to me on the flight was a British businessman who kindly offered to give me a lift Uptown. And, as a regular visitor, he gave a few tips on how to get by.

Can vividly recollect waking up on my first morning in another country.

The temperature was scorching; the city noise every bit as cacophonous as my craziest dreams had imagined; and as my feet hit the NY street for that very first giddily-exciting time, which song on my Sony Walkman marked my wild-eyed an’ gawping-gob entrance into Pretzel Central?

Well, goldarn it! It had to be this: 

“See me walkin’ down Fifth Avenue, walkin’ cane here at my side. Take it everywhere I walk, I’m an Englishman in New York” – Sting.

As a member of The British Museum Society, the Manhattan Metropolitan Museum of Art was top-of-my-list and – gee whiz! – it did not disappoint! A whole afternoon was spent mooching around its impressive galleries. Then emerged into the relentless sun to get a hot dog an’ a bag o’ donuts from the multitude of street stalls crowding the pavement – sorry! – sidewalk. 

After visiting the Statue of Liberty, made my groovy way up Downtown to Uncle Huckle-Buckle’s Chuckle Hutch (try sayin’ that after a few Buds!) to sit down and listen to the stand-ups; can’t forget my ears popping in the express elevator to the top of the Empire State Building; and other wondrous sights and sensations too numerous to drone on about here(!)

Out and about in NYC, chances are that you will see some very famous people. One day, taking a route recommended by my Tourist Map, a classy African-American lady marched straight past me – yes! None other than Diana Ross!! Ruminating over which was her best: either Baby Love or Chain Reaction, walked around a corner and almost collided into John Lennon’s widow!! (Don’t forget: you heard it here first). A few months earlier, we had recorded Jackie Mason Live In London – a programme that my father always requested to watch and never failed to reduce him to tears of laughter. So, imagine papa’s envy when listening to my incredible story of hanging around in the doorway of the Waldorf Astoria, standing next to the comedian himself, listening to the joke that reduced two NYPD officers to tears of laughter. 

And upon returning to the hostel every evening, a special, extra-large, local delicacy awaited all tourists on the front desk. Absolutely scrumptious! What on Earth was it?!

Somebody replied:

“We call it ‘pizza’…”

After ten days of intense adventures, no wonder there was no energy left; nevertheless, my last four days turned out to be equally life-changing; just around the corner(!) two important discoveries were made in that “New World”: the Barnes & Noble Superstore (ended up buying two books for myself and two books for Dad); and even more crucially:

TACO BELL!!

Thus, thenceforth, Brad‘s undying love for Mexican food flourished.

Obviously, if and when another Stateside visit occurs, special detours will have to be taken so that, finally, WE CAN MEET and you can regale me with tales of YOUR bigger and better way of life!

Who better to round this Post off than with The Boss himself?!

What better way to sign off than by saying:

Have A Nice Day! 🙂

“Day of glory! Welcome day!
Freedom’s banners greet thy ray;
See! how cheerfully they play
      With thy morning breeze,
On the rocks where pilgrims kneel’d,
On the heights where squadrons wheel’d,
When a tyrant’s thunder peal’d,
      O’er the trembling seas…
O let freemen be our sons;
And let future Washingtons
Rise, to lead their valiant ones,
      Till there’s war no more.”
~John Pierpont (1785–1866), “Independence”

 

 

Avengers: Infinity War: The Bradscribe Review

MARVEL At The Mayhem 

“Colossal, cataclysmic, delirious, preposterous – and always surreally entertaining in the now well-established Marvel movie tradition… And yet somehow in its pure uproariousness, it works. It’s just a supremely watchable film, utterly confident in its self-created malleable mythology…” – The Guardian. 

“Oh God…” 

You can say that again, Cap. 

Avengers: Infinity War is an extraordinary piece of work. 

A group of superheroes must band together to thwart a maniacal extraterrestrial threat- but fortunately this is NOT Justice League! Only the Russo brothers could manage so many elements and craft them into a cohesive and highly entertaining package.

As mentioned here so many times already, Thanos seeks the six Infinity Stones – the ultimate power in the universe. At whatever cost, this Titan must be stopped. 

Mad?!

He’s positively Stark Raving Hazelnuts… 

As soon as a suitably sinister score begins to play, you instantly realise you’re in for one helluva good ride!

Movie of the Decade? Quite possibly.

A monumental cinematic achievement? Oh, most certainly!

“Infinity War manages a succession of double-page spread awe that sells the cosmic saga… Kudos also for the witty/chilling envoi: “Thanos will return” – Sight And Sound. 

Incredible!

And that’s just the Running Time. 

Those 149 minutes feel more like 90. From the faint distress call relayed over the MARVEL STUD10logo, to the very evident signs of distress among some departing cinema-goers, Infinity War crackles along, as fast as a giant green behemoth hurtling towards Earth. 

There is such a great roster of characters on show here:

Yet again, Robert Downey Jr. shows here that Tony Stark everybody’s fave action-hero/playboy/philanthropist quip-dispenser works so much better in these Avengers movies than he ever did in his solo trilogy. 

The romance between the Vision and Wanda is handled very well; Natasha and Bruce’s reunion is relegated to an exchange of awkward glances and just as well! (Black Widow always only had eyes for Hawkeye).

Eager to see how the frickin’ Guardians of the Galaxy fitted – or fretted – alongside Earth’s Mightiest Heroes: no worries! The mix turns out to be supremely entertaining, especially Star-Lord’s desperate attempts to out-macho the God of Thunder. 

There is genuine friction on an antler-locking scale between Stark and Strange -both ridiculously rich and self-centred enhanced playboys. It’s as if that off-screen bickering between Robbie and Bennybatch as to which one played the best Sherlock spilled over in front of the cameras…

Thanos packs a heck of a punch… he pretty much punches everyone. It’s the emotion behind those punches that will surprise you” – Washington Post. 

What about the Man of the Match himself: Thanos – one of the most formidable villains in the Marvel canon? 

It is with great joy – and relief – to see one of my personal favourite comic book characters make such a triumphant transition to the big screen. A powerful and yet demented tyrant whose twisted logic cannot distinguish harmony from genocide, is portrayed here through a phenomenal mo-cap performance by Josh Brolin. 

Brutal, intractable and ferocious, as you would expect, what sets this particular antagonist above the usual one-dimensional, monologuing nerks is an unlikely serene and sensitive side. This is perfectly exemplified by all the dramatic scenes he shares with adopted “daughter” Gamora.

Finally! After two Guardians movies we get to see the character of the last Zen Whoberis develop. The emotional intensity of the moment Thanos finds Gamora as an infant just transcends the simple confines of the traditional “blockbuster.” Didn’t know they made ’em like that any more, but glad that the Russos could so happily oblige…

A superhero movie on such a gargantuan scale must have outstanding moments and thankfully, those fantastic fist-pumping, whoop-worthy moments are in abundance here: SPACE and the first sight of the Milano with mixtape blarin’; the Cap stepping out of the Scottish shadows; and the biggest cheer at my viewing: Thor, Rocket and Groot materialising amidst the Wakandan battlefield with the stirring Avengers theme ringing out at top volume.

You also get Iron Man, Spider-Man and Magic Man riding through the cosmos in a giant flying donut. WAHEY!!

You couldn’t make this stuff up – but it’s great to know that Christopher Markus and Stephen Freely can – and have done – again to such top-notch extent – arguably the best screenwriters in any genre. Their scripts are beyond compare. The way they can move from heavy drama to light relief, and back again, is a masterclass in deft writing. Who but they could include dialogue implying the Avengers “breaking up like the Beatles,” during a movie concentrating on the Stones – a force as old as the universe itself? 😉

Assuredly, there are plenty of great quotable lines to sustain this site for another few weeks. “Dude, you’re embarrassing me in front of the wizards!” should be recognised as one of the best in the franchise.

But the Greatest Hits this War has to offer come in that unforeseen and yet so-cool-as-fudge Marvel Team-Up we never knew could happen. Come on! Let’s start an online petition and get a Thor and Rocket Rabbit cosmic buddy movie in the works! If the Studio doesn’t comply, then, as the Mad Titan himself once said:

“Fine, I’ll do it myself…” 😉

“It inherits plenty of the problems endemic to crossovers: the privileging of quantity over quality, of spectacle over story, and of the shock value of major changes to the status quo over just about everything else” – TIME Magazine. 

Watched Avengers: Infinity War for a second time yesterday evening, admittedly to eke out any glaring errors or anything amiss…

Honestly, the amazing action set-pieces, affecting romantic interludes, carefully crafted comedy, breathtaking drama and Josh Brolin, of course, completely cancelled out my critical faculties and swept me headlong (always go for the head) just as giddily and intoxicating as it did last Friday. 

The direction is so taut, tense and terrific that there is never a dull moment. But there’s never been a better opportunity to make this next statement: There’s no oxygen inside that donut. 

How does Peter continue to patter faster than lightspeed just as endearingly as always, without air?! And it’s a good job the atmosphere on Titan is still sufficient enough for Spidey to carry on his dizzying friendly neighbourhood loopin’ an’ a-swingin’. What the hey – just immerse yourself in the pure comic book escapism…

As expected, the Children of Thanos aka The Black Order did succumb to that dread affliction of our era: the “Phasma Curse”: they look/sound awesome, but get little/nothing to do in the actual movie. Despite constantly gleering, wielding a rad-bladed staff, and looking like he’s just traipsed over from World of Warcraft, Corvus Glaive – even the name is too astounding for its own good! – becomes far too underused. Still, the awesome conceptual design has, nevertheless, intrigued ol’ Bronze Age Boy here to check out the current comic books (These servants of Thanos have only been around for a few years so it should not take long to track Corvus et al down)

The same applies to Mrs. Glaive: Proxima Midnight. Actually, with a tighter adroitness towards choreography and camerawork, her duel between Black Widow (okay, Natasha is blonde now! She’s blonde now!) and Okoye in Wakanda ought to be one of the Most Awsweome Fights In The Movie Ever. Opportunity missed… 

What looked to be the least interesting chatacter turned out to exact the most impact: Ebony Maw, a nasty, maleficent matter-manipulator whose street fight with Strange and Wong has become an instant classic.

Personally, greater emphasis on character interaction more brooding, less brawling – would not have gone amiss. The climactic Battle of Wakanda – the MCU’s most grandiose spectacle yet – could so easily have been avoided. Let those rampant alien beasties mince themselves on the Wakandan forcefield? No, gotta give those thousands of digital artists something to do, so His Majesty orders Plot-hole 17 to open up… 

Despite these relatively minor niggles, when it comes to Star Ratings, Brad is notoriously stingy when it come to dishing out his precious 5-star icon, but, in this case…

Considering the gasps and laughs these non-stop thrills evoked from me; its power to make me care – and cry – for a psychotic, yet placid, purple pariah; the sheer exhilaration it instilled for hours after my first viewing – a sensation not felt since Rogue One, it would be my genuine pleasure to bestow upon this treasure the highest rating possible!

What the blazes! Who knows when – or how! – another monumental sci-fi epic as big, bold, bonkers and brilliant as this will invade our popcorn parlours again…?

And as for those viewers “exhausted”, or exasperated by this movie:

What’s the matter with you kids? You’ve never seen a masterpiece before? 😉

Avengers: Infinity War is precisely the sort of entertaining – and jaw-dropping – spectacle we have come to know/expect -and love – about the MCU; against all the odds of scale and ambition, it not only met our expectations – well, mine anyway – but exceeded them. This epic, most definitely, is one to enjoy time and time again. And again! 

Truly MARVELous…

“Dread it. Run from it.”

HA! Not a frickin’ chance, Grimace!!

 

 

BRADSCRIBE VERDICT: 

“Perfectly balanced, as all things should be…”

 

“You Don’t Get Older, You Get Better”: The Bradscribe Gif Party

Make Cake Not War!

“Today you are you! That is truer than true! There is no one alive who is you-er than you!” – Dr. Seuss.

Welcome to the party!

So glad you could make it! 

Where else on the blogosphere right now can you forget all your troubles… and enjoy a party for this one day?

Lots of great music to enjoy, and savoury and sweet snacks aplenty!

Are you ready to dance?! 

Okey-dokey, plug in, lil fella!

“The one thing that can solve most of our problems is dancing” – James Brown.  

“Don’t think about your errors or failures; otherwise, you’ll never do a thing” – Bill Murray.

Try the egg custard tarts – they’re lovely! 

For their sterling work filing and cataloguing my formidable Bronze Age comics collection, yours truly has treated his minions to a live set by The Mummies in the basement.

Be careful, the umpteeenth barrel of orange squash has just been prised open, so things are getting pretty lively down there…

“You know you’re getting old when you get that one candle on the cake. It’s like, ‘See if you can blow this out'” – Jerry Seinfeld.

Well, you’ve probably guessed by now that today is a very special day; yes, that’s right: celebrating the Best Day of Mum’s Life 🙂

Would like to take this opportunity to THANK YOU all for your love, support and uplifting Comments – it is very much appreciated! Always! 

Bless you all!

Please help yourself to another cake…

Here are the requested book prezzies received today:  

Been searching AGES for these two classics! In case you don’t see any New Posts on this site over the next few weeks, this writer will be busy reading!

Also, can get my own copy of Thor: Ragnarok – released on DVD this week just in time for my birthday? What are the chances of that happening?! 😉

This, obviously, provides yet another excuse to upload the Best Gif Of 2017:

 

“You know you’re getting old when the candles cost more than the cake” – Bob Hope.

 

So, how is the latest upgrade of Brad holding up?

First and foremost: STILL looking younger than what a dude of my age should!

Does getting older means that one is getting wiser? The jury is still out on that one – experiencing increasingly frustrating difficulties with phones, unexpected tech-mishaps and various miscellaneous inconveniences but that seems to be a uniquely 21st century thing.

Apart from feeling a tad flaccid around me knees, and suffering cramp if having to endure a particularly lousy or disappointing movie at the cinema, yours truly is feelin’ fine an’ dandy! 

Thanks fer asking! 🙂

Like the late, great Maya Angelou once said, “my mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive”; this writer intends to carry on writing (even if there are only half a dozen readers at a time willing to view my work) with some passion, some awesomeness, some humour, and (hopefully) some style.

And what about my age? 

No worries, it shall not weary me; don’t count the years – make the years count!

Cheers!

“Age is a case of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it don’t matter” – Satchel Paige.

 

“He was a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher… or, as his wife would have it, an idiot” – Douglas Adams (11 March 1952 – 11 May 2001)

 

Jailhouse Crock: Escape Now, Hug Later

A New Intern @ The Old Outpost

Andy Dufresne: “You know what it’s about? You’ll like it, it’s about a prison break.” 

Ellis Boyd ‘Red’ Redding: “We oughta file that under “Educational” too, oughten we…?” 

 

Lock Up!

Following a hefty bout of blockade-running around Planet Tumblabungla, Brad Company got caught in a nasty ambush on Droopy’s Heights.

On the other side of this theatre of inter-galactic war, Brad Fartlighter awakes to find himself – sans Companytrapped in the harsh prison complex of Sandler’s Slammer on Ajövő Világában, in the Wotchagonnado System, one of the misbegotten outer worlds of the Zandokan Empire. 

Talk about an insufferable dive: Mexican food is NOWHERE to be seen on the menu and the local constabulary have struck the word: ‘escape’ from the local vocabulary… 

 

“Hiya fellas, ‘ow ya doin’?” Brad slurred groggily, massaging the wincing pain at the back of his noddle.

A typical pair of scheming, thoroughly-nogoodniks stood by the bars of what looked like a grotty litle prison cell. The shortest, most brutish-looking miscreant stepped forwards.

“I am Warden Mal Praktizz. I will be your host for this – the final day of your pathetic, misspent life…”

The Battleforce Commander-turned-blogger looked around in confusion: “Wha’…? No par’y, then…?”  

“‘Fraid not, Fartlighter. You will find no donuts in this institution…”

Woddafuj Wuzzat, the Warden’s twisted right-hand man, leered at your hero: “NO donuts – no HOPE! NOBODY can save you NOW, you rebellious… rebel…!” 

“Okey-dokey, Bright-Eyes…” the Warden spat impatiently. “Leave the monologuing to me, capisce? Hmm… they warned me about your… flippancy, FartlighterYOU are quite possibly the WORST Battleforce Commander-turned-blogger I have ever seen. Really, this does NOT look good for you, jackass… The Zandokan Provincial Council have already found you GUILTY of crimes against the Empire. At Dawn tomorrow, you will be executed! Do you have anything to say?”

“Oh, you BET the blue blazes I do, fella!”

“Very well, Earthman, OUT with it…” 

“I ‘AVEN’T ‘AD ANY CAKE FER FOUR’Y-EIGHT ‘AHRZ, AN’ I’M STARTIN’ TA MOULT…”

“Can you believe they call us criminals when he’s assaulting us with that haircut?” – Rocket Raccoon. 

“Welcome…!” announced Graf Masvoodler – that shifty scavenger from Shakatak – as Brad was flung unceremoniously into Cell 21-87. “…to the Imperial Home For Stray Moofmilkers, Mr… erm- by Dyzan! It’s YOU… isn’t it?! How did you end up all the way out here, Commander?!”

“Same as th resta’ yas… I got caught…”

Your hero found himself in a larger, but equally grotty cell. Apart from Graf, it was occupied by two other, very different, humanoid aliens: a scowling, purple-skinned being looming a full head taller than everybody else, and a fidgeting, green-skinned bounder. Brad became aware that the latter stared at him rather too impudently. 

“‘Ey, Earthman!” smirked Thurston Satnavbenda, that mischievous mercenary from  Szoldos. “Come ‘ere! I’m gonna redecorate this cell with yer-” 

“Oh yeah?! See this, Fudgeface?!” Brad gleered, waving a clenched fist between them. “ONE swipe from this an’ I’ll break EVERY bone in it! So jus’ BACK ORF-!”

“Now, NOW! That’s enough hoity-toity!” Graf interjected. “Stow that attitude, Thurs! Don’t you know who you’re talking down to?! This is the Cakecharmer himself: Brad-“

Fartlighter?! What, legendary Battleforce Commander? Leader of the notorious Brad Company… all the way out here?!”

“Yayep! I am that person; I am him, I am he…”

H-Hero of Revlon…?!” Thurston gawped, dropping to his knees in shock. “D-D-Defender of Zamora…?!” 

“In full effect, fella,” Brad replied nonchalantly, reaching down to pull the shocked admirer back to his feet. “Git OOP, ya wazzock. I’m not the Pope…” 

The Battleforce Commander-turned-blogger turned to the tallest inmate: “An’ you! I bet yer in ‘ere fer makin’ dodgy pies-“

“Rengeteg van hátra!” the alien grumbled.

“Oho, well, we both know that, but-”

“Egyet fizet kettőt kap!”

“That much, huh…? Who the blazes is this fella…?!”

“Oh, don’t mind him, that’s just Tummhenkkz – he’s one of those Kadaars from Kajta-Flajka-“

Oh, one a’ those, is ‘e? ‘Oowould ya Adam-an’-Eve itdoesn’t speak a frickin’ word a’ English – tha’s gonna be a real bummer once we break aht-“

“Break… out?!” Graf laughed incredulously. “Oh no-ho-ho! You don’t understand, Commander. Absolutely NOBODY has broken out of here in all the DECADES this lousy institution has been in op-“

“Well, whoopee-doo, lucky fer you, cootchie-coo – I’m a COMPLETE nobody so this should be a doddle…” 

“Hogy érted, nem viselsz nadrágot?!”

“Whoa, took the words right outta me mahf, fella…” 

“He’s right! We’re going to need to distract the guards! But how…?!” Graf shrieked.

Brad let off one of his trademark snarky grins: “Easy peasy, fellas – I got jus’ th bunny…”

Carla: “But Captain! They need your help!”

Captain Kremmen: “Well, they can’t have her! Besides, she only comes twice a week…” 

“Okey-dokey, kiddies, it’s like this…” the Battleforce Commander-turned-blogger scratched his straggly crumbcatcher in pensive mood.

BUT! At that very moment:

“RIGHT!” roared Tendril Soggisox, Captain of the Guards, as he loomed up outside the cell. “Which one of you bums is Fartlighter?!” 

“Well, obviously…” Brad drawled, approaching cautiously. “‘E’s the only one in this nick wiv migh’y fine cheekbones-“

“Oh, YOU, y’mean? Doesn’t matter – you all look a sorry sight to me. You will come with us – the Administrator wishes to interrogate you-”

“Huh, do ya mind?! We’re still in the middle a’ ‘atchin’ our escape plan, ya see…”

“…Ha! Cute. NOBODY is going to escape-!”

“Ooh! Fancy me chances then, do ya…? Cool!” Brad winked.

“Uff, that’s ENOUGH a’ this banter. We will stall no further- Guards! If you please…”  

One more tedious frogmarch to another decrepit part of the complex later…

++BRING IN THE EARTHLING!++ 

– hollered Denny Dethlok, a lofty, nasty-looking cyborg – half his face encased in galamantium steel, his eobham-chrome hips creaking ominously as he marched into the interrogation room. Guards burst in, dragging Brad into the seediest dentist’s chair in the galaxy. 

++PREPARE TO BE CATALOGUED, ENEMY OF THE EMPIRE! ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS TO BEST OF YOUR ABILITY!++

“Ooh, goody gumdrops, quiz-time! Groovy. Fire away, fella.”

FULL NAME?!++

“Brad Burri’o Fartligh’er.”

++AGE?”

“32.6 years-BWHAHAHA!”

++SEX?!++

“‘Ere, steady on, Cassie Nova! We only jus’ met! Ain’tcha gonna woo me first wiv flahs an’ choccies?!” 

++ARE YOU PREGNANT?++

“NOT YET! Slow DAHN, willya?!” The Battleforce Commander-turned-blogger lifted his jacket in disgust: ‘Ave a butcher’s at me abs, ya dozy stainless steel nerk. Do I LOOK like I got a bun in the oven?! Fer goodness sake, flamin’ Nora…”

++BIRTH ORDER?++

“‘Eadfirst, wunnit? Whaddya think?! What kind of cockamamie questions are th-”  

++ANY DEFECTIVE ORGANS?++

“You betcha – me Roland keeps playin’ bum notes…”

++ARE YOU DISABLED?++

“Jeez, I’ll disable YOU in a minute, fella! Right, I’ve jus’ abaht ‘ad ENOOF a’ this – I’m outta ‘ere…”

Thoroughly dischuffed, Brad shot to his feet and lunged back to the door: “Bein’ stook in me cell wiv that gaggle a’ goofballs is preferable ta this loada’ cobblers…”

But the guards shot back in, fully-charged stun-batons waving manically in front of his ridiculously good-looking features.

++HMM, SUBJECT: S.K. SYSTEM BEING – NON-COMPLIANT TO OFFICIAL PROCEDURES-++ 

“Huh, story a’ me life-“

++SILENCE, EARTHLING!++

“Uff, cyborgs…” 

++INTERROGATION TERMINATED. GUARDS! RETURN RECALCITRANT SUBJECT TO HIS CELL++

Denny stormed out of the room, his circuits overheating in frustration… 

“What’s wiv these barmy questions anyways…?” Brad huffed as the guards escorted him out sharpish. 

“Testin’ your suitability, rebel-scum!” Tendril muttered. After your execution tomorrow, your organs will be relayed to the Imperial Medical Division for clone-development-“

“WHOA, reverse thrust, fella! NOBODY gets ta fondle me organs except-“

GYAARRRGH!!” the Captain abruptly screamed, then collapsed unconscious to the ground.

As the second guard slammed ferociously into the wall, Brad peered over his shoulder to gawp at a colossal alien being in military fatigues. Its pointed ears twitched excitedly; a big, dopey grin spread across its oversized canine-like face. 

All of a sudden, it flung its mighty arms around your hapless hero. 

“Oh moy Commander!” it boomed ecstatically. “Thank the stars! Oi’ve found you…” 

“Stone the flamin’ Porgs!!” Brad hollered aghast. “BARBY?!” 

“Oi would folla Commander Fartloighter anywhere. Oi wouldn’t betray ‘im fer all the custard in the galaxy” – Barb Degoya. 

“GerrORF, ya big softie!” Brad grumbled, struggling to prise himself out of the Rontavahrian handyman’s pincer-like grip. “What the blazes are ya doin’ all the way aht ‘ere?!”

“Oi came all this way to rescue you, moy Commander-” 

“Didya?! Aww, bless yer ‘eart, Barby… but- but ‘ow didya get in?!”

The Rontavahrian cracked his knuckles; the Earthman gulped. 

“Yikes, I migthta’ known! Always a brute force ta be reckoned wiv, eh?! Good on ya – glad yer on ahr side! C’mon Barby, let’s go par’y-! ‘Ere – ‘ang abaht… I’m forgettin’ some’t…”

Brad raced back inside; Barb jogged apprehensively behind his Commander, clamouring for an explanation.

They arrived at Cell 21-87.

Graf bolted upright on his bunk, staring in consternation: Welcome… back, Commander? What, no guards…?!” 

“Nah! Mostly useless ayways. Chop-chop, Thurs! Tummy! We’re breakin’ AHT!”

“You- you come back… for us?!” Thurs spluttered in disbelief. “Bless you, Brad! Er- who’s your Rontavahrian friend?”

“Our best chance ta escape! Meet Barb Degoya, the best buddy ya could ‘ave in a tight spot! Stand thee back, fellas! ‘E’s gonna rip the door orf its ‘inges – mind yer toes…”

The show of gargantuan strength gobsmacked them all.

“Abbahagyja, a köldökem a tűz!”

“‘Ell yeah! Ya can say that again. It must be all that custard ‘e gobbles… Well, dahn’t jus’ gawp there, amigos – C’MON!”  

They raced straight out the main gates; the guards still lay out cold. Onto the harsh Swiftayla Wastes they emerged, shivering in the treacherous cold, and gasping in the thin air. 

“Over this next ridge, Commander!” Barb panted. “Oi got a ship waiting…”

“Excellente! Good lad! Er… oo’s ship, Barby-?”

“….“Borrowed” from Boba Boxanuggetz-“

“Boxanuggetz-?! That charmless nerk?! ‘E NEVAH let’s ANYBOD borr- uff… Blimey Charley, Barby…!! I’ve only jus’ broken aht a’ prison, an’ ya expect me ta fly orf in an ‘ot crate?! Bloomin’ marvellous this is – ‘ow’s me muvva gonna ‘andle all this?!”

“Soz, Commander, Oi-” 

“‘Ey, Brad’s Rontavahrian sidekick!” Thurston suddenly chirped. “Didya bring friends…?” 

Both Brad and Barb spun round in confusion. 

To their horror, on the opposite ridge, stood Brad Company’s rivals: the notorious Oprah’s ‘Ombres – the meanest and most merciless combo this side of Scarif, led by their moronic mauler-in-chief: Captain Korsten Kronsteen.

As if losing an eye and a leg during this war wasn’t bad enough, the Cap looked close to losing his patience…

“Well, well, blinkin’ ‘ell! WHOA no!” he growled, training a particularly vicious pulse rifle at… guess whose cheekbones…? “This dipwit ain’t NO CHUM a’ ours! What the blazes are YOU doing all the way out here?!”

“Ah jeez…” Brad cried. “If it ain’t one nerk it’s anuvva…” 

Princess Leia Organa: “Looks like you’ve managed to cut off our only escape route.” 

Han Solo: “Maybe you’d like it back in your cell, your highness.” 

“Goldarn it!” Captain Kronsteen snapped impudently. “That’s all we needanother nut ta fall outta the stoopid tree… Well, what kinda Mickey-Maus-mission are ya on now, BattleFARCE Commander Jackass?!” 

Well, Captain Crotchstain, it’s kinda like this…”

“Hush up! I don’t wanna know. It’s alright fer you dashin’ ‘ero-types – arsin’ about ‘ere, a bit a’ sabotage there – then ponse back ta base fer cake an’ medals. Us grunts…! Goldarn it – us grunts are the ones doin’ ALL th real ‘ard work of trying ta destroy this rotten Empire-!”

“OI, Kronst!” Barb bellowed. “You can’t talk down to the Commander loike that!”

“Oh, is that so… Fido? An’ YOU can’t talk back ta ME like that – hey, Jackass! Ever thoughta’ keepin’ yer dozy doggy on a doggone LEASH?!”

Barb thrust forward, snarling through his fangs, but Brad held him back: “An’ ya don’ wanna talk ta this big fella like THAT! You should see what ‘e did ta some a’ Sandler’s guards… blimey! It’s jus’ like ya: NOT a pret’y sight!”

“Seein’ as the ‘Ombres an’ I came all this way, Brad – an’, heh, this sector is never monitored anyway – we oughtta deal with you… here and now, once an’ fer all…” Kronsteen drawled. “But we’re here on behalf uv… a certain Boba Boxanuggetz – seems like yer DARN DAWG ‘ot-tailed it in ‘is prized cruiser: the Mapother IV. 

“Let me explain!” Barb protested to the enraged Captain. “Oi pleaded with Mr. Boxabut he steadfastly refused to co-operate…”

“Yo, that sounds like the Boba I know an’ not love…” Brad blurted.

Oi assured him that Oi WILL return his ship, once Brad is safely returned… It was on the spur of the moment…” 

“Ya dig spur of the moment, boy?!” Kronsteen leered. “I’ll give ya spur of the moment…

And with that, he swung his pulse rifle menacingly at the startled RontavahrianA deafening shot rang out. Then another! And another?! 

A bunch of Sandlers’ guards had regrouped and were streaming out of the main gates, blasters blazing; th ‘Ombres returned fire.

In the confusion, the good guys scarpered off the battlefield.

“Hey, you guys!” cried Graf. “If we stick close to the hero from Earth, we CAN’T get hit!” 

Kronsteen hollered some furious curse after them, but fortunately his expletives were drowned out by the laser barrage.

Huffing and wheezing, the desperate band reached the Mapother IV. 

“I would like to extend my gratitude to Commander Fartlighter and Barb Degoya for breaking us out of that hellish place…” announced a peculiar voice.

“Eh?!” Brad frowned. “Who in blazes said that…?”

The Kadaar gingerly raised his hand.

“So ya DO speak English…! Tha’s a neat twist. But why didn’tcha-“

“I figured: they can’t interrogate me if I pretend that I can’t… After all, what are the chances of finding a Kadaari interpreter-“

“All the way out here…” the others interrupted in unison.

As Barb took the helm and engaged the Mapother’s engines, the free fellas settled back to enjoy the flight to somewhere-infinitely-more-groovy. 

“Okey-dokey then – before we take orf, Tummy, there’s some’t I’d like ta wish ya…” 

Brad stood upright and – giving a flawless Kadaar salute – announced: Három herékem van…”

“Impressive. Most impressive… Apart from not conjugating the verb properly that’s… not bad for a… human. I will return the sentiment: The “very besta’ luck” to you TOO, Commander… …”

 

That’s right! That’s right! We bad! Uh-huh, that’s right, we don’t want no shit either!” – Harry Monroe.

“The guards have managed to quell the… trouble outside the gates, sir,” Woddafuj babbled, trying to appease the irate Warden. 

Mal Praktizz and his goons assembled outside Brad’s cell.

“Very well, dipwit! You may have bamboozled my guards, but you’re NOT gonna fool Warden Mal Praktizz!”

“Oh… he already has, sir…” Woddafuj moaned, surveying the cell in dismay.

“What are you talking about?! Stand aside! Let me see-” he blurted, shoving his right-hand man off to the left, and froze in astonishment at the EMPTY cell.

“OH MY SWEET VIN DIESEL…” he wailed, realising, full well, that: “That Earthling really gets on my-“

“My goodness… That’s got to be the best Battleforce Commander-turned-blogger I’ve e’er seen…” Woddafuj shook his head in utter astonishment.

“So it would seem…” Mal shook his head in utter dejection. “GAH! Zan Doka will have MY HEAD for this… AOW FUDGE! SOUND THE ALARM!!” 

 BRAD FARTLIGHTER WILL ESCAPE RETURN!