It’s Friday. Again. And that means two things. One, that I’ll probably end up lying face down in an alley just before 1am tonight, and that it’s time once again for “Words For Your Enjoyment.”
This week’s post idea comes from our friend Michael who wonders, “What would your catchphrase be if you were in your own movie?””
Well, Michael… In order for me to tell you my catchphrase, I have to set the scene and let it play out. So, without any further delays… I give you a scene from my movie, Baby-Trade.
WARNING: The following scene may not be suitable for children under the age of 18 and adults who don’t like to watch Discovery Channel shows that highlight real-life scenes from real-life births.
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INT. HOSPITAL – DAY
White, sterile and did I mention, white? An orderly wheels a SCREAMING woman down the main drag of the Maternity Ward, past a gallery of sweating, waiting husbands. We stop long enough to get a glimpse of a strange OUT OF PLACE MAN, standing in the corner surveying the situation. He smokes a cigar, puffs rings into the air.
Nurse (approaching): Sir, there are newborns here. Could you put out your-?
Man: …my cigar?
Nurse: Uh, yes. Please.
Man: How about I put it out…in your face?
Without warning, the man wraps his hand around the nurse’s petite skull, throwing her against the wall and into a tray of coincidentally-placed glass jars (which are really plastic and don’t hurt her one bit). Everyone turns their attention to the man. A group of them stand, startled.
Yet, out of the group, one man stands out from the pack. Rugged, with a jaw that looks strong enough to take a metal girder to the face, stands PAUL DAVIDSON (early 30’s, fearless). He motions to the other fathers-to-be with one single finger.
Paul: Save your anger and frustration for your babies, who will someday grow up and ask for the keys to your Jaguar and wrap it around a telephone pole. As for this man… (Paul points to the man standing above the downed nurse…) Dare I say…you’ll wish you were never born?
The strange man takes one look at Paul, turns to the downed nurse, then BOOKS off down the hall.
Paul: (to the fathers-to-be) Thank god I perfected all those breathing exercises! Paul books after him, speeding past wheelchair-bound pregnant women, past the front desk… The strange man turns a corner, pushing an IKEA bookcase filled with diapers onto the floor in front of Paul. Paul tries to dodge the falling debris, but the bookcase falls to the floor, collapsing into a thousand pieces.
Paul: Damn Swedes. Chocolate, sure. Bookcases? I don’t think so!
Around the corner, up a set of stairs, Paul is mere feet behind the strange man who plows through swinging double doors and into…
A DELIVERY ROOM
A baby has just been born… The strange man runs to the other side of the room, realizing there’s only one way out. And standing in his way, a halfway-out of breath Paul Davidson.
Paul: There’s only one way out…
The woman on the table, fatigued, looks up.
Woman: You’re telling me…
The strange man’s eyes dart in all directions. Scan the room. Below him sits a metal dish. Sitting inside of it, a recently delivered PLACENTA. He grabs it, cradling it with both hands.
Man: (to Paul) You’re probably wondering… Is he a good shot with a moist, gooey placenta?
Paul: Actually… I’m wondering if-
But there’s no time for a smart-alecky catchphrase. At least not yet. The strange man wastes no time, HURTLING the placenta at Paul. Paul tries to dodge…but isn’t lucky this time.
The placenta hits him SMACK DAB in the face. It is slimy and gooey, and takes forever to slide down his face and fall into his hands.
Paul: (looking up, enraged) Goo-yah!
The catchphrase ignites Paul’s passion for ass-kicking and he hurdles over the top of the birthing table and round-house kicks the strange man in the jaw. He goes flying against the wall, through it, landing on the floor of an adjacent room.
Everyone in the delivery room turns to Paul, stunned. The OBGYN turns to Paul, mouth agape…
OBGYN: Wow. That was amazing.
Paul turns to him. Pausing. Takes a breath. Then-
Paul: GOO-YAH.
Everyone, in unison: GOO-YAH.
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A catchphrase is born. What would yours be?
As for Michael – don’t hold him responsible for anything you have read above. He provided the idea, I just happened to turn it into a tasteless, straight-to-video, movie.
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