If I were to find something to be unsatisfactory during the movie, I possessed the supreme power to notify the management of the deficiency from the comfort of my seat.The gadget displayed four buttons to be punched for negative issues with "Sound," "Picture," "Piracy," or "Other Disturbance." I was crestfallen that there was no Red Terror Alert button for "Matthew McConaughey Grossing Us Out Trying to Be Sexy" sightings.
I had no complaints regarding the projection and audio of the film, but I do hate it when the coming attractions previews reveal too much detail. Learning Hannah Montana is a singer -- well, her concert flick was ruined for me. I resisted poking a button.
The "Piracy" button implied I was to squeal on bootleggers taping the picture, therefore when Donna tried to sneak some of my popcorn, I did not alert the movie police.
Instead, I slapped her knuckles with a ruler and made her do The Walk of Shame to Cinema 12 to watch "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything: A Veggie Tales Movie."
Afterwards, I asked if she had enjoyed her punishment, but she was too busy gnashing down garden fajitas to say.
During "I Am Legend," a few rows behind me, an infant began crying incessantly. Go figure, a ruthless, action-packed horror thriller is not a lullaby?
Even after an hour?
No. Apparently, not. No.
As far as I am concerned, there is a special place in Hell and/or Wal-Mart check-out lines for arrogant social criminals who drag their volcanic spawn to an adult environment.
Unfortunately, there was no button on the pager for "Despicable Guardian Rubbish" or "Newborn Beast Still Wet Behind the Sperm."
I did not believe the management would decipher the hot tot problem if I engaged the "Other Disturbance" option. So, under the cover of darkness, I chucked the pager into Daddy's head and that corrected the etiquette nicely, once he and the baby crawled out of the theatre and the blood clotted -- and a grateful audience quit parading me around on their shoulders beneath Will Smith, still in focus.
