"Senseless, silly movie" was the thought I had after Thursday night's viewing wth Adam. The action was all I had hoped for, with some interesting character development of Jason Statham's Frank Martin. But nothing of value for my everyday life.
Or so I thought.
The next morning, a red glimmer in the puddles made me notice the reflection of a small black box with a flashing red timer firmly attached to the undercarriage of my 96 Corolla. Having neither a crowbar nor the time to figure it out and disable it, I zoomed away, looking for just the right setup. I thought I might try the same trick I had seen the previous night, which was risky, but the benefits would greatly outweigh the possible consequences.
Locating a ramp, I sped up and launched the left side of my car up the ramp, causing the car to simultaneously jump and begin a slow spin. A convenient crane with a hook was there to pull the bomb from the car just as I passed under it. The removal caused the bomb to detonate, but by that time, my car had twisted around again, and I was driving away, laughing into my rearview mirror.
Once at work, I walked into the back door, hoping to use the stairs. A burly man greeted me with a gun in my face. Looking around, I saw the situation was hopeless. 6 other armed men were ready to blow me away. "What would Jason do?" I thought.
"Slap" went my hand against the closest man's wrist. "Shatter" went the glass covering the firehose. "Clang" into the jawbones and testicles went the firehose end, whirling around and turning bones to jelly.
Trailing profanities, two different guys went running up the stairs, but I lassoed them with the firehose end. I also remembered to twist the hose around the body of each guy I beat up. One guy I even pulled up to the rafters. All six were now wrapped up and immobile. My hose proved to fast for their semiautomatics.
Then I turned it on.
So, you can see that if I had not seen this wonderful film, I woulda been one blowed up and bulleted sumbitch.