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Badmovies.org Forum  |  Movies  |  Bad Movies  |  All dogs go to Hell! « previous next »
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Author Topic: All dogs go to Hell!  (Read 4700 times)
El Chupacabra
Guest
« on: August 20, 2001, 04:37:23 PM »

OK.  I like dog movies.  A Boy And His Dog
is a personal favorite.  But my god,
was this a weird dream.

I was in a b-movie called "Paperdog".
My character was this superintelligent
dog, who had a white-collar job in a
large corporate office, running errands
(fetching papers?) for CEO's.  At one
point, I caught an elevator with another
dog like me on it. I did the job well,
but was dissatisfied with my work,
and prone to snapping (heh) at the
people who took care of me back home.

Now, let's jump ahead a little.  After The
Apocalypse.  A new world of underground
cities and topside wreckage, where I had
mysteriously become human.  I rode the
train (a cross between bullet and monorail)
underground, and saw that the instigator
of this carnage, a rather attractive
looking woman with green eyes, had set up
a political rally near the entrance (hey!
No electioneering the last survivors! ;)

I spent some time exploring the city,
finding a china shop, Mexican produce
market, and travel agency up in the very
SF-like hills.  It seemed these hills
were part of a large community of Mexican
and American refugees.  I ducked into the
travel agency, just in time to hear an
American lounge singer croon this memorable
tune:

Went south of the border
To do some drinking
Saw people die there
Thought I could see their ghost
Floating by my window

It doesn't mean a thing
They're just faces
But my friend, I ask you this
Have you been a father?
Are you a son?
If so, we have a special surprise for you

Quite perturbed, I ran out of the shop.
At this point, I had turned into a female
(think Ranma 1/2), and rode down from the
hills on a motorized, er, something to
harangue the evil woman from before.
I accused her of stealing the credit;
she was an amateur, I said, who would never
achieve my former level of popularity.
All she did was come up with the idea of
syncing the bomb to her TIVO schedule (!)

Afterwards (though preceding it in the
dream - are you following me?) came the
"shock" ending.  Panicky, I caught the
next train out of there, reverting to my
dog form as I boarded.  I befriended an
old man, who asked where my master was and
gave me a treat, and things were starting
to look up.  Then a young, thin black man
walked up to me and whispered "I know".
So I followed him, and confronted him in
a storage room (luggage and things).
He said he'd expose me, that he was a
pulp writer and would get a large sum for
his tell-all book.  I just sit there
(in dog form - try to imagine how funny
this looks), thinking about what to do.
Do I kill him?  Bribe him?  Or just play
the innocent doggy?

Ladies and gentlemen, we can resume our
flashback:  The dream ended back at the
hills of the underground city.  I entered
the produce market and watched a man
operating a shortwave radio, while a girl
sang.  It was hauntingly beautiful.
Then I woke up to the sound of the local
Spanish station ;)

Things I Learned:

Radiation turns dogs into people.

Lounge singers can play anywhere.

Depressing songs cause sex changes.

When looking for a new home,
post-apocalyptic refugees are spoilt
for choice.

Mad bombers want to blow society up,
but not before catching a few flicks.


So, what do you think?
Logged
Stupid Jacob
Guest
« Reply #1 on: August 20, 2001, 05:01:04 PM »

I think your either going insane or have a kickass idea for a movie. I say both.
Logged
Flangepart
Guest
« Reply #2 on: August 20, 2001, 05:23:40 PM »

Damm, El Chup...you dreams ard better orginised then my real life!....well, kinda....and i have to say, this make some interesting reading. Did you watch The Matrix any time soon? Just wondering. Now that i thunk it, i can see several plot insperations in this dream. Matrix, Cats and dogs maby, a boy and his Ellison, ......Greasers Palace? Man....now i'm worried. It all seems to make some kind of sense! Hoz bot you?
Logged
Steve.
Guest
« Reply #3 on: August 20, 2001, 05:36:56 PM »

I misread it at first as RAPERDOG (quick, someone tell Abby!) and my poor mind went into the first stage of boggling. I agree with Jacob - see a doctor, then a producer.
Logged
El Chupacabra
Guest
« Reply #4 on: August 20, 2001, 06:11:34 PM »

Actually, Flange, I think it was more Lost
Highway than anything else... The whole
"character retreats into fantasy existence
in denial of his hideous actions" bit,
right down to changing back at the end.
Mix well with the neighbor's radio and a
dish of collard greens at 2 AM, & you have
a nice, frothy mental shake :-)  Jacob,
all dreams are insane (unsane?), but they
do provide great inspiration for my
eventual B-movie!
Logged
Flangepart
Guest
« Reply #5 on: August 21, 2001, 10:20:05 AM »

Personaly, El Chup, i find the dream state to be a constant source of wonderment. The sub-contious is haveing a garage sale on what ever thoughts and images are gathering (Metaphorical) dust in the caverns of your mind. "Say, how mutch ya' want for that sexual tension?" --" I'll take a wet dream, and a can of figurative woopass"--"Nah. Hey, can i have the fear of flying and the naked in a  supermarket, for some used anxiaty about permature balding?"--"SOLD!" You get the picture....
Logged
Steve.
Guest
« Reply #6 on: August 22, 2001, 02:20:09 PM »

Are you a Freudian or a Jungian, Mr. Flange? Herr Freud did some real bargains in the sexual tension section - his patients paid him lots of money and got lots of sexual tension in return. A fair deal if you're daft enough to tell some  trick-cyclist all your woes. Tell 'em to your (other) self and save those pennies.
Logged
Flangepart
Guest
« Reply #7 on: August 22, 2001, 05:19:20 PM »

Can you claim your multipal personalites on your taxs? Seems reasonable to me.....but my other self won't rewind the tapes!.....(Oh shut up)...says you, your always complaining about the toilet seat...(You guys don't have the be afraid off falling in, ya pigs!)...shes never happy....your telling me,last night she left pulled the caps off my beer!.....(You drink too much,Too!)...Yeah? how would you like some stale beer on your side of the brain, ya putz?!........ho, cheese it, the big guy is listening in!......Crap!......................................................(Pigs)......
Logged
Steve.
Guest
« Reply #8 on: August 23, 2001, 01:40:11 PM »

We can claim on our taxes in this secure hos...house. Of course, he spends it all on stale beer and bribes for the nurse (s).
Logged
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