If I was in the Wesley Snipes movie, Blade or Blade 2: Electric Boogaloo or Blade 3: Jessica Alba In Spandex — I would probably just be this supporting character who wouldn’t get a ton of screen time.
Why?
I must be totally honest here when I tell you that I do not like vampires. They scare me. I mean, I have enough trouble getting one of those TB tests at the doctor’s office and those are a bunch of tiny little needle things that don’t even hurt. Well, when I get to thinking about physically-dead human beings who are all white-faced (and it’s not for performance reasons) who have really sharp teeth and want to jam them into my neck and make me bleed — well, there are other places I’d rather be than a dark alleyway with Wesley Snipes.
If Blade was about me, the story would be way different. It would be about a writer who is afraid of vampires, who knows that they plan on taking over the entire city of Los Angeles in 3 days time. It would be about how said writer, knowing such important information, goes to the supermarket to get tons of extra water and canned food so that when the vampires DO take over, he won’t have to leave his apartment for some time.
Let someone else try to stop them.
And the whole movie would be sort of like My Dinner With Andre but you could call it My Night of Stocking Up On Canned Food In Case The Vampires Take Over The City. My friends would come over, we’d eat ravioli and drink those Capri-Sun juice drinks and look out the window periodically to see if anyone was getting attacked in the back alleyway behind my apartment.
Eventually, one of two things would happen — knowing that this was a movie and would have to entertain people. Either the vampires would be defeated, off screen of course, by someone who wasn’t afraid of the vampires — OR they’d come to my apartment because, hell, I am the star of the movie and all and if I don’t have to deal with some complications throughout the movie then people are going to leave to go watch The Polar Express in the theater next door.
But if they did come to my door – I’d try to reason with them. Here’s the thing — they shouldn’t kill me or turn me into one of them… I could become like the Human mascot for all the vampires where I would lure other humans into their lair instead of getting bit in the neck by them. Turn me into a vampire and you’re gonna have a not-so-great vampire. Because, honestly, even if I had the sharp teeth I would rather use them to get into coconuts instead of someone’s neck.
I’d soon become the “Coconut Vampire” and people would make fun of me just like they did on the four-square court in junior high school.
Then again, being the “Coconut Vampire” might have some advantages. For example — at parties where the rest of the vampires were celebrating the taking over of Los Angeles and other metropolitan cities, I could be bartender — without any tools whatsoever. See, cause with those teeth and the knowledge that I could extract the juice of a coconut without any hammer or chisel or knife — those pina coladas would be flowing like nobody’s business.
And let’s face it — I’ve always wanted to be a bartender.
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