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Beowulf: Summarized by A COLLEGE GRADUATE

Let’s get one thing straight:

I read Beowulf.

Not only that, I read, and dissected Beowulf for school within a month of seeing the movie.

That being said, I know the story.

Well, no; that’s not entirely true, but for the purposes of this post bear with me.

If you ask me, the original Beowulf story (well, the translated/updated version that we all read today anyway…) was trashy and uninspired, even for it’s time.

The composition of the story is fractured, the characters are barely 2 dimensional, and the whole thing is downright caveman simple.

What I mean to say is:

Beowulf was a campfire story for DUDES, a story meant to entertain on the most visceral of levels, and one that was seemingly thrown together on the fly one night, probably by a drunk-ass dude with PTSD from killing and raping 5,000 women and children.

Wow, that was graphic.

Anyway, what follows is an intentionally stupid and ridiculous summary/reenactment of the original telling of the Beowulf story as I know it.

Try to picture this being told around an old-world viking campfire.

Please enjoy, and bear in mind, this post was brought to you by a 4 year college education:

“Okay, so there’s this monster, uh, Green- (no, wait…) Grendel!  Yeah, that’s right, Grendel!

One day, Grendel showed up at some castle, and was all like:

“IMMA’ KILL ALL’AH’ YOUSE’!”

With that, Grendel started cuttin’ bitches, so the peoples in the castle whipped out their celly’s and called the pimpest dude in the neightborhood:

BAY-O-WOLF.

Yeah that’s right, BAY-O-WOLF.

Only thing is, he’s so fuckin’ BADASS that he spells it “Beowulf,” ’cause he’s all like:

“I don’t want suckah’s soundin’ out my name n’shit.  That’s some bullshit right there, son…”

Anyway, Beowulf shows up and is all like:

“Yeah, I’ll kill your monster, but first let us all get drunk while I take some ‘roids and whip out my cock… Y’know, as a sign of good sportsmanship.

Don’t question me, I’m BADASS.”

Right as the parties startin’ to die down, Grendel busts down the door on a bad trip or some shit and is all like:

“IMMA’ KILL ALL’AH’ YOUSE’!”

So, these 2 guys bein’ the dudes that they are, Beowulf and Grendel end up drinking themselves stupid.

Naturally, again; dudes that they are, the 2 of them get into a slap boxing/wrestling match, presumably over who the better Bond was, Connery or Moore.

(It was Connery…)

Despite what began as a friendly contest, Beowulf somehow accidentally tears Grendel’s arm out of it’s socket.

That, my good friends, is what shall henceforth be known as a “party foul.”

Anyway, that’s the story!  Goodnight!”

Inevitably, gathered around a campfire with nothing else to do, someone would eventually have to ask:

“Really?  That can’t really be the end, can it?”

Not wanting to upset his testosterone and boose juiced audience, our storyteller would most likely do what he could to improv a second act for the story:

“So, *cough!* turns out Grendel had a mom

Not only that, Grendel had, uh, a SAVAGE BEAST of a mom that was 10 times more SAVAGE than him on his most SAVAGE of days!

Yeah, that’s right, SAVAGE!

‘Cause, y’know how mothers are, am I right guys? *Wink* *Wink*

……….. How come nobodies’ laughing?

*Ahem!* Anyway, Grendel’s mom shows up at the castle and is all like:

“IMMA’ KILL ALL’AH’ YOUSE’!”

So then Beowulf, fresh after having just bedded every lady in waiting in the court, is all like:

“Yeah, ‘imma kill that bitch for yah’, just let me get juiced up and nak- (no, wait he already did that) I mean, juiced up and shit-faced and I’ll get right on it.

Then maybe I’ll get naked and score some poontang afterwards…”

(Hold for applause)

Yeah, thought you guys would like that part…

With that, Beowulf, being the BADASS that he is; goes and puts the ground and pound to Grendel’s mom like she stole from him.

Seriously, that bitch got tapped out so fast, The Flash was like “Waddah’ fawk jus’ happened!?”

During the after party, Beowulf gets laid, gets hammered, and becomes king.  The end.”

Despite the storyteller’s pleas though, inevitably some other loudmouth jackass would demand that the story keep going.

Hoping to satisfy his audience, and finally bring an end to the epic monstrosity he had birthed that evening, the storyteller would ultimately go balls-out with his final act, intentionally jumping the shark for fear of further demands of continuance:

“Okay guys, this is really the end now, so don’t ask for any more story tonight, ‘k?

So a bunch of time passes, and Beowulf’s real old n’shit, right?

He’s still king n’all, but he’s real fuckin’ old is all.

Anyway, everything’s good n’shit, but then A FUCKIN’ DRAGON shows up, and Beowulf’s all like:

“I’m old and the evils of gravity have made me ashamed to disrobe in public anymore, but imma’ kill the FUCKIN’ DRAGON for everybody, ’cause goddamnit; I’m BADASS and that’s what I do.

… Even though the dragon hasn’t really done anything to warrant it’s killi- Goddamnit I’m the KING, and I’m BADASS, so this is fuckin’ happening… Right now!”

With that Beowulf heads down to the FUCKIN’ DRAGON’S house and starts wreckin’ shit like no other while his little buddy Wieglaf hangs back and is all like:

“Oh snap!  Beowulf’s a fuckin’ beast!”

Shit goes wrong though, and Beowulf falls on his knife or some shit, leaving Wieglaf to pwn the FUCKIN’ DRAGON on his own (with a little help from aimbot…).

Anyway, Beowulf dies or some shit, I don’t know; I’m tired let’s go to bed.”

Well, folks, that was my summary/reenactment of the first telling of the Beowulf story.

Hopefully you all enjoyed it, and/or learned something!

 

 

 

 

 

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The Top 10 Best Overkills in Movies, #9: The Lost World

*Sorry folks, no clip this time.  After all, it is a Spielberg…*

Let it be known, The Lost World is just about the most outright savage example of “Spielbergian Spite Killing” in practice.

For the uninitiated, “Spielbergian Spite Killing” refers to the indisputable fact that anyone who is an asshole, or is at all deserving of comeupance in any way shape or form, will; at some point in the movie, FUCKING DIE FOR IT.

You are guys are SO dead...

For instance, in The Lost World alone we have:

A man doesn’t hear his friend’s cries for help on account of him listening to a Walkman.

Carter: A man all about his music...

Guess what?

HE FUCKIN’ DIED FOR IT.

Adios Carter...

Then, we have a weasely Brit that’s guilty of… Well, being a weasely Brit.

Oh yeah, and talkin' shit to Jeff Goldblum...

Guess what?

HE FUCKIN’ DIED FOR IT.

The Lost World used Baby T-Rex! It's Super-Effective!

Which brings us to Dieter Stark, played by resident creepy-as-fuck Swede, Peter Stormare.

Pictured: The kinder, gentler Stormare...

Dieter Stark seemingly makes it a point to be a douche in every scene he’s in.

Let’s review:

The first time we see Dieter, he’s riding around in a jeep and mishears Peter Postlethwaite, thusly resulting in him asking Postlethwaite to repeat himself.

No self-respecting MAN asks Peter Postlethwaite to repeat himself.

I would NOT fuck with this man. No, sir...

That’s strike 1.

Shortly thereafter, Dieter is seen examining a Composognathus with the InGen group’s resident paleontologist.

This dude. Oh yeah, he dies too; but for ABSOLUTELY NO REASON.

After the creature is declared, quote: “not dangerous,” Dieter promptly whips out his trusty cattleprod, (never leave home without it) and zaps the little fucker seemingly just for the sake of seeing it squirm.

Hot chili!

That’s strike 2.

Finally, in one of Dieter’s last scenes in the movie, he is seen pacing around in the background while giving Vince Vaughn the goddamn stinkiest of stink-eyes.

Although, one could argue that Peter Stormare was born with a case of permanent, unintentional stink eye...

This of course results in a brief shoving match between the 2, which for all intents and purposes, Dieter loses, ’cause c’mon:

It’s fuckin’ Vince Vaughn.

No self-respecting MAN starts shit with Vince Vaughn and lives to tell the tale.

And that makes a big-fuckin’ strike 3.

Which brings us to the #9 Best Overkill in our Top 10 list of Best Overills in Movies:

Not long after his littler scuffle with Vince Vaughn, Dieter separates himself from the mercenaries/Team Goldblum in order to go relieve himself in the woods.

Upon leaving, he tells his buddy Carter to wait up for him, only for the camera angle to zoom-in and reveal, *GASP!* Carter couldn’t hear him on account of his wicked awesome Walkman!

BUM, BUM, BUMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!

In a film where there are crazy fuckin’ dinosaurs boppin’ around in the wilderness, and your character has; up to this point, been a total prick, you can pretty much guarantee that somethin’ bad’s gonna’ happen when you wander off on your own.

Sure enough, just before ‘ole Dieter can whip it out, he hears some chirping in the bushes, which upon further investigation; reveals the source to be:

A MOTHERFUCKIN' JUMP SCARE!!!! RAWWRRRRRR!!!!

Turns out, one of those Compsognathus’ found his ass out in the woods and decided to scare the piss out of him, seemingly just for kicks.

Dieter being the kind soul that he, exchanges a bit of silly banter with the Compy, and promptly whips out his retractable cattleprod and proceeds to do what he can to introduce the little guy to the wonders of electricity.

Despite his best effort, Dieter misses the little fucker.

Now, after all this excitement, Dieter discovers that not only has he forgotten that he needed to pee, but he also doesn’t know how to get back to Team Goldblum.

Just how fuckin’ shy can this guy’s kidneys be that he needs to run 3 fuckin’ miles into the wilderness to take a piss!?

I don’t know, maybe he was one of those fat kids that had body image security issues and swam with his shirt on or some shit…

Yup, one of these.

ANYWAY, Dieter starts meandering through the woods repeatedly calling out:

Cut back to Carter, listening to 99.3 FM, La Grande:

"I'm just gonna' get stepped on by the T-Rex later, so who gives a fuck?"

After quite literally getting turned around in there, Dieter unfortunately takes a bad step in the woods and falls ass over teakettle down into a creek bed ravine.

Ow.

Collapsed on the ground, and in a great deal of pain, Dieter once again hears that familiar chirping and finds himself  set upon by a bevy of fearsome first-person camera shots!

Thusly begins our overkill.

Composognathus’ start piling in from out of the woodwork, mounting Dieter like a little bitch and busting out some serious ground and pound.

"He's goin' for the Kimura!"

These tenacious little fuckers manage to cover every inch of poor Dieter, biting and clawing at him, and generally putting a cap on one very bad day out in the woods.

Seriously, they get on his neck:

On his arms:

And at one point they even take a chunk outta’ his lips:

As he struggles to pry free from the clutches of these little green fuckers, Dieter of course falls back on calling to his one savior, his one beacon of hope: Carter.

We all know how well that works out.

With that, the Compys randomly decide to detach themselves from Dieter, in concert; mind you, leading to a downright cruel sequence wherein the entire swarm of them line up and basically taunt poor Dieter.

Oh, you smug little fucks...

This angers the mighty Swede, thusly causing him to chase them off with a combination of manly primal screams and equally manly rock throwing.

While silly looking, these tactics prove effective enough to by Dieter enough time to do some Home Alone Joe Pesci swearing, (“Regit, frigit, midgit, son of a…”) and actually try something practical; I.E. calling for Peter Postlethwaite instead of that sack of fail Carter.

"You called ME out here to save you from some little green chickens? Fucking pussy..."

Unfortunately, Postlethwaite is off doing something badass, like killing a fuckin’ T-Rex with his bare hands or some shit, so he doesn’t exactly hear Mr. Dieter.
In his defense, whatever Peter Postlethwaite was doing, I’m pretty sure it was more important than saving the fuckin’ Swede from the Frogger episode of Seinfeld.

Anyway, we then cut back to Dieter, who is now growing desperate, and has regularly begun chucking rocks at the creepy first-person tracking shot that just won’t seem to leave him alone.

"Get that camera away from me, Spielberg! I didn't sign on for this shit!"

Of course, with all that hazardous backwards walking in the creek, Dieter eventually trips over a rock and falls flat on his face.

Then, something silly happens.

Despite his wounds, despite the horde of nasty little fuckers trying to EAT HIS FLESH, Dieter takes a moment, while laying the creek; to GET A DRINK OF FUCKIN’ WATER!


WHAT THE FUCK!!??

Seriously, man!?

Priorities, dude:  Get ’em in order…

Otherwise this happens:

"Well, hello there stranger!"

Anyway, this MASSIVE fuck up on Dieter’s part costs him dearly, in that the Compys finally catch up to him and put his ass in some sort of Steiner Recliner/Figure-4 hybrid:

Compy Recliner.

Figure-4 Compy-Lock.

Despite (literally) tearing this sad sack pile of Swedish fuck-sauce’s ass to ribbons, Dieter somehow manages to haul himself up out of the creek, and make a run for a downed tree.

That proves to be his final mistake.

As he reaches the tree, Dieter gives one final look back at his pursuers, as if to say:

"Well, I gave it a shot, but I think I'm pretty much fucked here..."

And then proceeds to weakly roll over the log, essentially sealing his fate as the Compys follow his ass all the way down:

Yup, given enough time, they'd probably kill yah'.

With that, being as this a PG-13 film, we are treated to a tasteful closing shot of our overkill involving no graphic violence, but rather a great deal of implied nastiness in the form of George Lucas backed sound editing, and a fair amount of blood streaming through the creek bed.

"What is it?" "Blood! I hope this is not Chris' blood!"

All that carnage and nastiness, resulting in the 9th best Overkill in Movies, from a tiny dinosaur that was considered, quote:

“Not dangerous…”

Filed under: Movies, Uncategorized, Wrestling, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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