Murder(S) In My Apartment–! 911!!!!!! Am I Next?

Someone was holding my hand! Shots rang out in the dark & I heard tires peeling off rubber, the squeal deal & not a uniform in sight. No, the police won’t come to my Grey Gardens–the corpse disappeared–or stuffed into a dumpster. All that is left are clues that it happened. The knife, intended for pies, went for a throat. A movie theatre ticket, proof of some connection, but what? What happened here? What was the motivation? A Dorothy Malone autograph, maybe?

You don’t leave a bloody knife in plain sight with a label, not unless you are trying to plant evidence to fool the county appointed investigator. It looks like the Court tagged the evidence before charging anyone with the crime.

BIRTH OF A PARK BENCH MURDER–MURDER, HE PAINTED?

A heinous crime on Corona Heights–reaching to the very inner sanctum of the highest ranking member of the Bonaparte Family.

Not a drop of the precious distilled spirits seemed to be touched, but what of the ticket, to where? Was this meant as a warning?

And the casually tossed newspaper–what was this person reading? Or, is this just something else to throw investigative journalism into a state of shambles? The only person who might know isn’t saying a word, at least not about this: Princess Melita Bonaparte.

Need Scaring? Fresh Blood?: You’re Next

Some people operate (they cut you open) on a quota system. We have blood banks that need some investing. YOU’RE NEXT!

This was not just another slasher film. True, I was in need of my between Full Moon blood fix, my reflection was not showing up in mirrors & I spent the last several days suppressing the urge to make projectile vomiting when my nostrils were confronted with the smell of garlic. Yes, I was blinded by morning light. I knew the only help I could get was in “Band-Aid” form. So, I took that option, and went to see the newly released YOU’RE NEXT.

My needs were more than sated. This is not just another slasher subset of the horror film genre. There was cause & effect. I groaned at the first scene, thinking, all I would get out of this was my need for fresh fake blood flowing from all apertures. What a set up! That’s what the director intended–you think you are going down the usual well paved road of bloodbath, and you are, but this time it’s different. You care about each character. You wonder what can you do to stop this! How can you send out brainwaves to these flawed (but not unlikable) people to stop the inevitable slaughter? In short, you wish you were not a hungry vampire in need of a fix, but a reliable, responsible, thoughtful person who cares about content and the craft of telling a story. You start wanting to be a paramedic, anything to be a Good Samaritan. Alas, the film goes on as written, and you did not get a call from the casting director. So you sit, helpless, as an audience member helping to do your part in keeping films in the theatre, digressing from the edge, the point of what this is all about…

This is a birthday cake where you get to have it & eat it too, along with a liter or two of transfusions. Keep your kitchen knives in FULL VIEW. Have extra ones handy & find a nice place to keep a baseball bat & a sledge-hammer. If you want to go over the deep end (and they don’t, but you might just want to do this as a conversation piece) install a guillotine behind the rubber tree plant in your living room. There’s no room for leaving any defense mechanism unmentioned or overlooked as your inner survivalist must attempt to thrive in this thrilling adventure of a family dinner that never got around to the second course, not to mention the pies that sat uneaten in the kitchen. The attention to set detail is as much a star as the actors. This wealthy family did not have a frost-free refrigerator, in fact, they had an old, old one that had the original factory logo painted over by hand. Their home was beautiful but not by Architectural Digest standards, but the kind of gentility lived out by wealth that lives an understated lifestyle. They keep their names OUT of the papers, and they’d consider having a personal Facebook account as something that other people might do.–But, despite their near aristocratic approach to life, something went horribly wrong. And I want you to go find out for your self just what that was & talk to me. I need your comments, always–and help me make it through the night without screaming.

Know at all times where your knife set is. If you hide them, you will lose precious seconds, time lost that could have saved your life.

If you hear a tapping noise & you think no one else is in the house, you are wrong.

I had hoped that I would not be reporting my demise, that I could keep a journalistic & professional distance between myself & the subject matter…but sometimes things happen that are just outside of our control, no matter how well intended that may be. Call 911!

Yes, I am on Facebook, and all that other stuff. I need your reassurance that this won’t happen to me…or, else…

YOU’RE NEXT AND YOU KNOW IT!

AND THOSE THAT MADE THE BRILLIANCE HAPPEN SHARE SOME THOUGHTS

If you wake up & can still walk upright without assistance, go to AMC Theatres 1000 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco & be prepared to be NEXT! Ne