Movie and a Large Shotgun

My head buzzes, my left eye twitches involuntarily, and my stomach drops and swells in unruly torment.

God give me strength to finish this film!

The pause button is once again pressed and I take a short break from the new Keira Knightley film version of “Pride and Prejudice.” I sit back with tears in my eyes. Try as I may, I cannot get the horrific pictures out of my head.

I can’t do it! I can’t take it anymore. My head is bruised and my heart aching! It literally hurts my intelligence to watch this goddamn film! And they know it. That’s why… well, why it’s come to this. I curl into a ball in the corner.

You might ask who I blame. Naturally I blame the writers. As well as the director, and most to all of the actors. In fact, I blame everyone who worked on this piece of shit film, right down to the last grip! How dare you. How dare all of you. Look what you have created and how the forces of evil have used it against the innocent!

I begin to sob uncontrollably. Blood from the back of my head trickles down my neck and onto my shoulders.

I look up into the barrel my captor’s semi-automatic. Pulling me onto my feet, he takes me back into the room. I can hear the TV being turned back on and Matthew Macfadyen’s awful, constipated Mr. Darcy voice wafting over me in painful waves.

It is time for my torture to resume. How long it will last, I cannot say. Will I make it through alive? I think not. But, then again, as no one has come to rescue me, I doubt I will be missed.