The Following Happened During A Viewing Of "Death Proof"
Our Hero: "What made Quentin Tarantino the man he is today?"
Dan: "I bet he wasn't hugged as a child. By anyone."
Our Hero: "His mom probably kept him at broom's length away from her... And would smack him with it if he got too close."
Dan: "In the face. Like Broomcat*."
Our Hero: "That's why he's all misshapen today." [starts laughing for like 5 minutes straight]
Dan: "You OK there?"
Our Hero: "Need... air."
Dan: "Gotcha. ... So. I know you're laughing so hard because you just pictured Quentin Tarantino as a child, but you kept his adult head. Like, it's clearly a child's body, but you kept his head. His haircut, chin, and everything. 'Cause you don't know what he looked like as a child. It's even an adult-sized head. Like, it's still a child's body, but the head is clearly disproportionately large. It's poorly superimposed on."
Mrs. Tarantino: "Quit fucking talking about Nazis. Mommy had a long day."
Lil' Quentin: "When's daddy coming home?"
Mrs. Tarantino: "When you stop acting like a crazy bastard. Now get mommy my medicine and some ice."
Dan: "You're laughing even harder now because when Lil' Quentin Tarantino started talking... it wasn't a child's voice... and it wasn't his adult voice... it was him trying to sound like a child."
Our Hero: [dies]
* Broomcat
The reason for Broomcat's celebrity is simple. As a neighbourhood cat, he killed 14 Gestapo squirrels. There were three stray cats who used to live in our neighbourhood: Greg, Oliver, and Broomcat. We fed Greg and Oliver because they were cute. Broomcat was not. Oh, and he had fleas. In fact, Broomcat was once dubbed Fleacat until we realised he was mortally afraid of brooms. Greg and Oliver had never encountered a flailing broom before, so it did not affect them in the slightest. Broomcat fled like the devil. Hence: Broomcat.
Dan: "I bet he wasn't hugged as a child. By anyone."
Our Hero: "His mom probably kept him at broom's length away from her... And would smack him with it if he got too close."
Dan: "In the face. Like Broomcat*."
Our Hero: "That's why he's all misshapen today." [starts laughing for like 5 minutes straight]
Dan: "You OK there?"
Our Hero: "Need... air."
Dan: "Gotcha. ... So. I know you're laughing so hard because you just pictured Quentin Tarantino as a child, but you kept his adult head. Like, it's clearly a child's body, but you kept his head. His haircut, chin, and everything. 'Cause you don't know what he looked like as a child. It's even an adult-sized head. Like, it's still a child's body, but the head is clearly disproportionately large. It's poorly superimposed on."
Mrs. Tarantino: "Quit fucking talking about Nazis. Mommy had a long day."
Lil' Quentin: "When's daddy coming home?"
Mrs. Tarantino: "When you stop acting like a crazy bastard. Now get mommy my medicine and some ice."
Dan: "You're laughing even harder now because when Lil' Quentin Tarantino started talking... it wasn't a child's voice... and it wasn't his adult voice... it was him trying to sound like a child."
Our Hero: [dies]
* Broomcat
The reason for Broomcat's celebrity is simple. As a neighbourhood cat, he killed 14 Gestapo squirrels. There were three stray cats who used to live in our neighbourhood: Greg, Oliver, and Broomcat. We fed Greg and Oliver because they were cute. Broomcat was not. Oh, and he had fleas. In fact, Broomcat was once dubbed Fleacat until we realised he was mortally afraid of brooms. Greg and Oliver had never encountered a flailing broom before, so it did not affect them in the slightest. Broomcat fled like the devil. Hence: Broomcat.