GRcade

Each week Flobber will be visiting various places for the first time and giving them a review. Until now he has only been to his house, some shops, and Korea to fight in the war. Let's see what happened when Flobber went to his local cineplex.
Flobber wrote:
Here's what I know about cinemas: shut up. That means you. On a lighter note, I decided just now to find you and throw piano keys at your teeth. Where was I, oh yes, the cinema. I walked through the doors and the first thing I saw was a big colourful screen telling me what's on. I chose something called "Terminator: Salvation" because it looked a bit like the Korean War. Let's hope that it's a gritty, true-to-life tale then.

Hang on, £5?! To see a film?! I tried showing them my War Veterans discount card, but they didn't accept it. However, they had no choice but to accept my Flobber Rules discount card (i.e. my fist) as I slammed it into the card reader (i.e. the spotty twerp's stupid face). Next on the list was a trip to the food counter for some popcorn and cola.

What. The. Fork. £4 for a small popcorn and cola?! I shook my head in astonishment, and then swung my fists and elbows in outrage. That did the trick, free snacks for me, with some Minstrels thrown in for a bonus. The starting time was approaching, so I went to find my seat to watch the definitely imminent beginning of the movie.

Advertisements?! In the cinema?! When did this happen? I've seen these ads on TV, but some of them are longer. Finally they're over.

Trailers for more films?! I'm already at one, you bread-baskets! I ought to give the manager a piece of my mind. I decided to smack him in the ribs and then kick his children. That was fun. Wait, I'm missing the movie. Ah who cares, this is more fun.

So in conclusion, I didn't like the cinema. It was overpriced, stupid, boring, and long. His kids crawled under a car for a while, but then the owner came back and drove away, once again leaving them vulnerable to my steel-plated boots.

Each week Flobber will be visiting various places for the first time and giving them a review. Until now he has only been to his house, some shops, and Korea to fight in the war. Let's see what happened when Flobber went to his local discotheque.
Flobber wrote:
It's 10:30pm on a Friday night, and what am I doing? Standing in a queue of morons waiting to get in to a club called "The Moon". That's a stupid name, but I'm still hoping for a lunar-themed establishment. Oh I remember the days when men would land on the moon, say "it's one small step" and that, plus finish off with some low-gravity golf. Sigh. If this club doesn't wildly exceed my rose-tinted memories of the Apollo moon landings, then I will smash the place up.

Guess how much it was to get in...£5! Just to walk through the door! They didn't even have a discount for War Veterans. I bashed the till with my elbow, threw a load of coppers at the pierced goon guarding the door, and hurtled into the next corridor. I should put my coat somewhere safe...

£1?! To look after my coat? They should be paying me, it has medals and stuff on it. President Eisenhower gave me those medals, he said "Flobber, may God have mercy on your soul". I replied "President Eisenhower, may I have those medals in your bowl". Hence me having the medals. Anyway, I decided to hold on to my precious coat and saunter over to the bar for a cold beverage.

LOUD! Why is it so loud? There are way too many people in here, they should do what we did in small Korean villages, i.e. chuck half of them into the nearest river. I finally barged my way to the counter and ordered a beer-lager. The plank handed me a plastic glass, so I stared at his eyes and threw it all over his upper body. I then handed him a note that read "Give me it in a glass glass or I'll glass your ass. Spanner".

Credit Crunch indeed! The pint cost me £3.00! Have you ever heard of such a thing! I downed it in one then went out on to the dance floor for a boogie woogie. By that I mean "smash up some idiots by punching them until they leave me alone". Soon I had cleared a whole area for myself, so I pitched a tent just like I'd been taught in the military. I planted some proximity mines around the area to keep the enemy out. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! I got three of them. Mission Accomplished.

After I escaped from my police holding cell (no holding cell can hold me, Flobber), I went home. That was a living nightmare. £3 for a pint? Never again.

Woke up this morning, feeling fined. The council charged me £340 for putting up a picket fence without their permission. Someone ratted me out, who would do such a thing? Yapping to the council for every minor indiscretion. Angry it makes me, angry. It makes me angry.

Things improved when I had a bowl of Coco Shreddies for breakfast, then immediately got worse when I heard a thumping noise coming from my plate cupboard. I opened it and...it was a ghost! No, not really, it was something 3 times less scary and 15 times more annoying...my neighbour, Thetime Runcklesworth. I reached for my club(ber lang) to club him one around the chops, but he slipped away into the night (morning).

Later that day, I was lying on my new picket fence when suddenly Thetime appeared and started throwing grass at me knees. "Pick one or the other, sand or sad hands". He then started singing the Red Dwarf theme tune with the lyrics from "My Heart Will Go On" (Titanic). By this stage I was sick of him combining two seemingly arbitrary songs, so I picked him up and tossed him into the road.

Everything started to go in slow motion. Thetime was heading for the road, desperately trying to fly back onto his land. An 18-wheeler truck was fast approaching. All of a sudden Thetime stopped flailing, he turned to me, smiled, and said:

"The picket fence...I reported you to the council".

BANG! He smacked into the front of the lorry and was never seen again. Looks like he got the last laugh after all. Well, the second last laugh. When the 18-wheeler crashed into the local orphanage it really made me chuckle.

Farewell Thetime, I guess it was just Yourtime...