I’m wearing an apron. I’ve been in the kitchen and on the vacuum cleaner for most of the day and right now, to look at me, my domestic goddess nature is clear and obvious. My sheets are on the clothesline and today I even washed the doona cover. I am clearly, observably, recognizably domestically talented.
Bullshit.
I am as far from domesticated as a mountain hillbilly and the most I have in common with anything domesticated is the wish that I could lick myself like a cat. I am one for distraction, procrastination and a predisposition to anything if it means I get to avoid domestic duties.
It was on a day I was procrastinating such duties that I decided a spot of bootleg movie hunting might be more fun. I was pretending that it would be a reward. If you clean the kitchen, it’ll be finished downloading and on your hard drive by the time you’re done!
Bullshit.
I set the torrents going and then continued to spend the next forty minutes looking at boredpanda.com and looking for Sheldon the Tiny Dinosaur memes, a perfectly reasonable way to pass the time. (That Sheldon! He cracks me up.) The number one on my download list has been Batman vs Superman. I know, I know, I can hear you screaming at me. “It’s too early”, “those copies are going to be shit”, ‘don’t bother yet”. But I had a plan. Download two – one of them should be ok.
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| What I was hoping for. |
Two torrents later and a new mess in the kitchen (I was not watching a movie I’d been waiting twelve months to see with no snacks) I settled into the couch. Nana blanket at the ready, cup of tea, bowl of snacks, volume set perfectly and remote in hand, I settled to watch Superman hand Batman his ass in a shaker cup.
The opening credits roll, there’s a production company logo I’ve never seen before, but that’s cute, there’s a weird ferris wheel on the screen. There must be some sort art house short before the film. Never mind, come at me Ben Affleck and hot superman whose name I don’t know. I’m about to become very happy. The only thing that could make it better was being surprised by my two favourite superheroes out of their uniform.
An establishing shot opens with Batman standing on the roof of a building. Geez, Ben Affleck doesn’t look like I remember him, runs the internal monologue. And still the crescendo of music builds in the background and I know that something big is about to go down. Superman lands on the roof and then I know something is wrong. This man is hot but he’s not that hot. My superman is hot enough to stop traffic and this one could probably only stop a tuk tuk or two. There is some dialogue followed by some jilted, overacted close ups and the shot changes to the bat cave.
Batman stands surveying his inventory, making smug faces at all of his clearly plastic toys, when a woman walks in dressed in green. I can only assume she is meant to be Poison Ivy because she has leaves and things stuck on her. Her costume is smaller than usual but I don’t think too hard, it’s a superhero film. The women, and the men for that matter, generally wear their underwear on the outside.
With some more woeful dialogue, I cotton on pretty quickly that this isn’t the Ben Affleck version. This version quite likely didn’t have a commercial release but I was optimistic. Maybe in this version Superman will come up trumps. I’ll keep going. I’ve already made tea.
By minute twenty, Batman’s penis somehow manages to fall out of his uniform, his cape, tights, mask, torso and the rest of his Batman regalia all completely intact except for his codpiece. His very large, fully erect penis just fell out.
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| They should have at least spelt coming so I knew what was coming…? |
Poison Ivy’s lack of nipple coverage finally makes sense. What I’ve downloaded is Superman vs Batman XXX. It’s a full length feature film with my favourite superhero and the caped crusader battling to see who can get the most punani. My cup of tea all of a sudden feels wrong as does my Nana blanket. In front of me, in the middle of my lounge room is a 42 inch penis with a 42 inch mouth.
The internal monologue was fast and free flowing and for about thirty seconds, I felt like I was on Offspring. I imagined the soundtrack, the slow motion and the cut to shots between myself fumbling in a crocheted blanket to the screen and back again. The monologue went something like this…
Fuck. Fuck. My flatmate is home. I can’t find the remote. It won’t turn off. I can’t get it to stop. Fuck. You’ve spilt your tea. You’ve dropped the snack bowl and now the remote is on the floor under the couch. Turn it off. Turn it off. Fucking turn it off!
Once it was off, the silence was awkward. Alone, rolled in pink crochet and covered in tea, I stood and tried to work out my next step. Quiet… My flatmate had missed the commotion and no one knows I was watching porn on a Tuesday.
I put down the tea cup, stepped out of my Nana blanket and went to the kitchen. I washed up, put the dishes away, slept the floor and cleaned the range hood – all perfectly normal Tuesday behaviours.
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| What I should be watching. This is what I’m emotionally mature enough to understand. |
The hard drive is still attached to the media player in front of my television and once a day if not more, I skip over that file and play all of the ones around it. But every time I hit the down button I can’t help but wonder if Superman wins in that version. One day soon, I am going to make a cup of tea and put it on my laptop where everyone else watches their porn.
life in big frilly knickers 