Wednesday, May 20, 2009

3:00 In Da Mornin'

Last night, I lay restless, burdened by the task of writing my 300th post. Through half-open lids, the red numbers of the digital clock seared 1:39 into my foggy brain. 2:12. 2:47. I feel the tiredness in both mind and body, so why should sleeping be this difficult? As I pondered, weak and weary, suddenly my room was bathed in a brilliant blue light followed by a crackling, thunderous eruption. Springing forward, I saw a person climbing from a round hole in my hallway floor. Even in the darkness, I instantly knew it was a woman. I jerked involuntarily as she flipped on the lights. When my vision adjusted, before me stood a very, very naked brunette. "Are you the Reel Whore?" she demanded. She looked familiar, but it was hard to focus on her facial features given the circumstances. "Well?" I realized I hadn't answered. In a flurry I stuttered, "Uh, yes, I am. How did you get here? Why are you naked? You know you look like Len-..." She interrupted my babbling, "I am Lena Headey and I've been sent from the future to enlist your help. You should know the time machine only transports living tissue and that's why I'm naked. Now get out of bed. We've got work to do, whore."

Her no-nonsense tone spurred me to action, and I sprang from my bed. Lena looked at me quizzically. "Why are YOU naked?" she asked.

"You never know when a naked woman's going to appear in your bedroom. Besides, it's my house. Wait, the Terminator time machine is real?"

"You know, not everything you see in sci-fi films is fictional."

Opening my draws drawer I ask, more out of courtesy than desire, "Would you like something to wear?"

"No, thanks. I can go for a drink. You don't need those either. Where we're going we don't need clothes."

Sitting at my kitchen table, Lena began to explain the reason for her arrival. She was contacted by director Zack Snyder with an interesting proposal. Zack is endowed similarly to Dr. Manhattan...ONLY with respect to his perception of time. Zack can see past, present and future all at once. With this ability, he saw that the absence of a third season of Sarah Connor Chronicles would initiate a multitude of cascading events wherein Rupert Murdoch would attain the stranglehold on the entire entertainment industry he's strived to attain. She was sent to me because a special project my future self pens for Summer Glau ties me closely to the temporal distortion. She also told me my mad dodgeball skills were crucial to altering history.

My mind was spinning, but that was just the half of it. "To stop this, you and I are to travel to ancient Sparta and retrieve the nose ring Xerxes lost to the spearhead of Leonidas," she told me. Turns out Zack uses his abilities to make his films more realistic. So much so that Lena is actually the spitting image of Queen Gorgo. Together we were to win the favor of King Leonidas prior to the Battle of Thermopylae. I was to become the 'plus 1' in his band of 300. Once Leonidas ripped the nose ring from Xerxes' face, I'd have five minutes to find it and throw it over the cliff into the ocean. If not taken, the ring would fall into the possession of Xerxes' attendant Roudabeh. That ring becomes the driving force behind her grandson's ambition. Thinking himself the direct descendant of Xerxes, Roudabeh's grandson will run unchecked over the entertainment landscape. Without the ring as a constant reminder her grandson, the man we know as Rupert Murdoch, will be weakened. That weakness will open the door for a third season of Sarah Connor Chronicles.

The air in my kitchen changed; the hair on my body stood on end. Lena took my hand in hers, and next thing I knew we stood in the marble chamber of Leonidas. Lena quickly explained that I was her gift to him on the eve of the battle. Needless to say the next few hours did not happen exactly like the film. But when in Greece...

The next morning, I was, thankfully, spared being squeezed into those kiwi-smuggling Speedos and instead was fitted into garb befitting an Arcadian. I'm no solider so the next few days of marching and prepping were a bitch. Zack's plan was for me to hide within the Arcadian ranks until the moment the ring was separated from Xerxes. Time passed, and the stench of blood and death around us grew worse. Between the smell and my nerves I was beginning to doubt if it would happen. Then it did. Xerxes screamed in anger and I watched as the nose ring flew through the air.

I started counting; 1, 2, 3... Once three hundred seconds passed, mission complete or not, I was going home. 8, 9, 10. I broke from my cocoon of Arcadian protectors and dashed into the fray. Either I wasn't that menacing or the Spartans were awe-inspiring because the enemy paid me no heed. Even so, I lost sight of the ring as I dodged splintering weapons and slipped on puddles of fallen warriors. A deflected spear hurled end over end in my direction, but I sidestepped easily. 135, 136. At that moment, the gleaming band of gold caught my did the woman scurrying from the opposite direction to reach it. Roudabeh! I burst into a full run to beat her to the prize. Just as in dodgeball, I was a second too late. Her hand closed over the ring as mine closed atop hers. She attempted to pull free as I twisted her fingers open. 208, 209, 210. The ring fell back to the ground and began to roll. I tossed Roudabeh aside and lunged. Success!

As I stood, ring in hand, a nausea-inducing pain sprang from my loins. Roudabeh had planted her sandal firmly betwixt my thighs. Oh, how I wished I had worn those cured-leather kiwi smugglers into battle! As I regained my senses I hear a woman's screams. Shit! She's gotten a small group of fighters to surround me. Double shit! The nad-thwacking made me lose count. I'm a good fifteen feet from the cliff's edge. No guarantee I can throw the ring above their heads, or even live to tell about it. Then it occurs to me: the ultimate dodgeball move. I stand tall, staring down the two men obstructing my path to the cliff's edge. With a yell that'd make Leonidas proud, I tore into a flat run towards the men. I broke from between the men and catapulted myself over the cliff's face. At the peak of my ascent I lifted the ring high. Oh, how I hope my count wasn't off! As I loosen my grip on the ring for my kamikaze throw, I feel the air change, and the hair on my body stands on end. My descent down the cliff's face is picking up speed. The crashing waves are rushing to meet me.

A flash of light. My face plants into the half-melted remains of my mattress. Owww! I peel myself out of bed and wonder, "Did it make a difference?" Only time will tell. One thing is for certain; it gave me a great story to tell for my 300th post.

Large Association of Movie Blogs


  1. Congratulations on making it to 300. Here's hoping #400 will no less wild than this one. Best wishes. (P.S. Are you on twitter?)

  2. Thanks! I am on twitter (waywardjam). I'm a lil behind on my sidebar list o' social networks.

  3. Congrats on 300! I totally dig this post!

  4. Great post. I looked at its length and thought Jeez, am I really going to read this but naked Headey, Roudabeh and the humor (kiwi-smuggling Speedos) kept it moving and me entertained.

  5. @Jason Soto: Thanks!

    @film-book: I worried how many would be turned off by the length, but it does read surprisingly fast...and there's naked Lena Headey. Glad you read and enjoyed it.