In Which I Explain Neil Breen's New Film to Mom, to No One's Amusement

Mom was not amused. "Where do you hear about such weird stuff?"

"I hear it on the street," I said. "Some guy shining my shoes gave me a hot tip that Neil Breen has a new film called CADE: THE TORTURED CROSSING. So I went to see it. With my eyes."

I can think of four things wrong with that title

"But it turns out that my eyes were not enough. I needed my BRAIN, too. Because Neil Breen is deep. And wide. And spindly."

"Your Honor, I move that I recuse myself. Also, I am out of order. 

This whole damn movie is out of order. And corrupt."

"Neil Breen, as Cade, and also majestically playing his twin brother, Cale, buys a Mental Hospital that is kept anonymous, as hospitals are wont to do. Someone from The Bank is corrupt, however. And they use Mental Patients, who are also anonymous because who uses names anymore, I mean, really, this is the twenty-eleventieth century, people! And The Bank uses those Mentalists for Jeans Editing, like some sort of Sweatshop in the Future and it is Corrupt." 

"Strange... This wheelchair wasn't here before. 

Wait, am I trapped in my iMac's screensaver??"

"Mom? Are you listening?"

Bailey had come into the room, enticed by all the Neil Breen talk. The little doggie hopped into Mom's lap, provoking Mom to cross her eyes and pout her lips.

"Oh, glacious! Oh, my glacious! Oo is the wittlest puppy, oo aren't oo! Boo baba booey!"

"Mom, please. You're going to give Bailey cavities. And stomach upset."

"Be quiet. Are you done talking about your dumb movie?"

"Just two and half hours to go. So Neil Breen investigates as to why The Mental Hospital is using people to experiment on, and his suspicions are especially aroused when he meets some guy with the harmless name of Dr. Mengele. From The Bank. There are national ANNN-ND international secrets."

"Who am I. What am I. Why am I."

*Crowd cheers*

"Cade fights these nameless people, and then his desktop wallpaper glitches and Clippy popped up and asked if he would like help?"

"Suck it, Tom Cruise."

Bailey climbed down from Mom's lap and then quivered her bottom over the carpet. A long, sticky mass of gumdrop-colored poop came out.

"OH MY GLACIOUS! SUCH A OO GIRL!" Mom bawled.

"It's bad when even the dog is a movie critic," I said with requisite dryness. "Anyway, in the end, as the stench of dog poop wafted about the room, the movie came to a thrilling climax in a gigantic set battle scene."

"Er, I mean this..."

Everyone is kung fu fightin'! 

Neil Breen's acting like shite-in'!

"You see, Neil Breen duplicates himself and fights these people wearing black ski masks. Let me tell you, the tension was thick and soupy with a trough of low pressure of boredom mixed with perplexity. It's the winning Neil Breen formula!"

"I don't like it," Mom said. "And I forbid you from seeing Neil Breen films from now on."

I turn to the camera, thumbs up. "YAS! I knew having a mommy would come in use someday!"

"Oo my glacious, whatta glacious oo are," Mom cooed, picking up the bits of poop. "Oo poo pooed, didn't oo!"

I turned down Mom's offer of gumdrops and cheesecake and Pepsi--everyone sing along!--and I ran outside, hoping to find some black ski-masked people to karate chop.

Another work of Breenius! I give it five tuna cans!