Any characters/plots/histories/circumstances, etc. found within the movie/novelization/script or otherwise stated for the movie The Lost Boys isn't mine. Duh. Any characters/plots/histories/circumstances, etc. not found within the movie/novelization/script or otherwise stated for the movie The Lost Boys is mine. So no touchy.
This I just couldn't let slide by. The boys just had to spork The Tribe, also known as MST3000 or Mystery Science Theater 3000. Up until about 5 minutes ago I just couldn't finish it. The Tribe just had that level of suck that even sporking hurt. But I rounded it out quite nicely with another little jab at some testicle-less "vampires." I don't think it needs to go beyond where it ends. So, here's a little spork to fill your day.
vVv
Various jingles and jangles broke the relative silence of the dimmed movie theater as the Lost Boys made their way down the aisle, followed closely by a chagrinned-looking Star, a pouting Michael and Laddie with a box of Juju Bes. In the center of the theater were Edgar and Alan Frog and Sam Emerson, already enjoying their overpriced movie theater snacks when the clanging of various metals interrupted them. The theater that was all their own no longer was as the vampire clan stumbled their way down the sticky row behind them. All three heads turned to watch.
Edgar – Great. We have to suffer through this with the fang-tastic four and their semi-sidekicks.
Sam – That was a, uh, pretty lame joke there, Edgar.
Edgar – Can it, Liberace.
S – Hey, this shirt isn't shimmering.
Alan – Yeah, that shirt isn't shimmering. Your mom needs to torch your closet and excise the fashion demons.
S – That's funny. So the pre-pubescent Rambo look is the way to go then?
David – kicks the back of Sam's chair Enough. This is going to hurt plenty without you twerps bitching at each other.
A – What's that smell?
E – Vampires, my—
A – Yeah, duh. They're right behind us. That's not what I'm smelling.
S – Smells like . . . Grandpa's back yard.
All heads and bodies turn towards Paul who has a ring of pot smoke circling his head.
Paul – points to joint Medically prescribed to keep the pain away.
Da – What pain?
P – points to screen This is gonna hurt.
The lights dim on the group of chittering teens as the movie flickers to life on screen.
Dwayne – They surf?
Marko – Didn't you read the synopsis?
Dw – How could I? You're always hogging the computer.
Da – eyes widen That's why it keeps crashing!
Monster Bashers – Shut up!
Dw – So . . . wait . . . how do they surf at night? They don't even have David's spotlight midget. Do they have night vision?
Michael – Or a plot hole.
Laddie grunts as he picks a juju be from his teeth.
Da – You know, there's something emasculating about the leader of a vampire gang in flip flips.
Ma – Right. Like we don't know about—
Da – Quiet, pygmy.
Ma – mumbles Rabid badger.
P – So which one am I?
Dw – What?
P – inhales You know, there're four of them. Which one am I? David's the one with the lobotomy.
Da – I resent that.
P – You mean you resemble that. snort
Da – Do I sound like that?
Star – Only after three days of no sleep.
Michael – How would you know that?
St – rolls eyes I didn't join the fan club yesterday and it's not like I baked cookies to become one of them.
P – Brownies would've been better.
Ma – Paul's the Rasta.
Dw – But they're all idiots. I'm holding out for tubular.
Ma – And they're sloppy.
Mi – Yeah, and the Surf Nazi dog pile was inconspicuous.
Dw – Wait, are we minions? Because those morons look like minions.
Da – Like I'm going to order a feed and not take some for myself. WHY ARE THEY EATING THE INTESTINES??? Are they zombies or vampires? Maybe they should go for the brains . . .
S – Dude, say it, don't spray it.
Da – kicks Sam's chair Quiet, yuppie.
S – I'm not a yuppie.
Mi – Well this looks familiar.
P – Is this supposed to be Santa Carla?
Dw – Luna Bay, Paul. It's supposed to be Luna Bay.
P – Could have fooled me. chokes on smoke Dude! It's the saxophone guy! Wow. Maybe he should cut back on the Mickey D's, huh?
Dw – Kind of oxymoronic to see a fat homeless guy, don't you think? What with them starving and all?
P – And not a spot of rust on his chains! After all these years . . . I need to find out what he uses.
Mi – So Uhaul is the only moving company in America?
P – Hey! It's Michael and Star's prodigy!
Da – That's progeny, Paul. Progeny.
S – Ok, the house we moved to, weird but nice. No TV but still livable. They look like they're neck deep in a shit hole.
Mi – Watch your mouth.
Ma – So Aunt Jillian is . . . ?
Dw – Star's sister?
St – I have a sister?
Dw – Apparently.
St – News to me.
Da – Gotta hand it to them, though. Those kids do look like you two.
St & Mi – grumbles
Da – So why did this Shame guy just randomly show up?
Dw – Shane, David. His name is Shane.
Da – Whatever. I had a purpose in bringing the newbs into the family and I at least did it with some finesse. Did someone rub a lamp because he came out of nowhere.
Ma – Snippy.
Da – His feet are too small to fit in my shoes.
Dw – Cocky.
Da – You know it.
P – Shit! drops remnants of joint My roach! dives under chairs Someone give me a light.
A hand pops up above the chairs, the screen casting a sickly pale glow onto it. Dwayne places a Zippo on Paul's palm and the hand disappears only to be followed by a click and a flick.
A – Christ, these guys aren't subtle, are they?
Dw – Neither is the chick in the red bikini.
Ma – Why are they serving margaritas?
Da – Because they're short on testicles.
Dw – Wait, what? Why is Mike Jr. and that guy fighting? Did I miss backstory somewhere?
Mi – Plot hole.
P – pinching the roach and only succeeding in charring his skin as he tries to light it That chick's ready to hump that kid's leg.
Da – scoffs Could his handshake be any weaker? Come on! He didn't even grip her fingers! Pussy. And what's with his hair?
Ma – You have a mullet. You're not in a position to judge anyone else's hair.
Da – At least mine isn't the mullet supreme.
Ma – At least I can't slash tires with mine.
P – Boobs!
Dw – We didn't have boobs.
Ma – We didn't need them.
P – I need them.
Ma – Eat your roach, Paul.
P – pops roach into his mouth
Ma – I, uh, didn't really mean that.
P – shrugs
St – What's with the flower? It just came back to life? Can you do that, David?
Da – I can fly. That supersedes this prick's lobotomized petal-pinking.
Dw – Bet he doesn't know that's Ophelia on the wall.
P – Bet he doesn't know that girl's jail bait. swallows hard So wait, all I have to do is pick up a surfboard and I can nail that chick?
Ma – sneers You'd want to?
P – Why not?
Ma – Oh I don't know, herpes?
P – We can get those?
Ma – Ask David.
Da – It was a cold sore.
Ma – Oral herpes. That's what I said.
Da – ignores Marko Triumph my ass. That beast should be riding him.
Dw – Looks like the chick's about to.
Mi – spits soda Are they gutting each other?
Da – inhales popcorn kernel and hacks
Dw – frowns at David as he partially chokes
Ma – Gut like a fish. pops Jujy Fruit into his mouth, spits it out when he realizes it's licorice and checks the color of the next one against the screen, orange
Da – wipes away tears from eyes Can we fast forward, please? hacks, pokes finger in back of throat to dislodge kernel, hacks again I'm getting anxious.
Movie lurches forward at rapid pace.
P – Warp boobs!
Ma – Dead boobs.
P – Do we turn to stone?
Dw – Not that I know of.
A – Wait, where am I? It's Frog brothers, right?
Da – Yadda, yadda, yadda . . .
P – Bra-ed boobs!
Ma – Angry brother.
Da – That needs a life.
Dw – Is she walking weird or is it just me?
Da – Is that—
Dw – Don't say his name!
Da – cocks eyebrow Why?
Dw – His creator will sue. She's crazy like that.
P – Pasty-covered boobs!
Ma – Obviously editing failed somewhere.
P – Jail bait!
Da – Initiation, initiation, initiation . . .
A – Where am I?
E – Obviously I've lost you to the dark side.
P – Luke, I am—
All – No!
P – pouts
St – So my daughter just gropes over the first guy she comes across? Is she a throw?
Da – I think the term you're looking for is slut.
St – Can it, porcupine.
Da – Ouch.
Dw – Another initiation?
P – Is it just me or does it look like they're all on speed?
Dw – The movie's on fast forward.
P – Well that explains it.
Da – More slaughter, more slaughter . . . yawns
Dw – He's killing the vampires already?
Da – Fuck this shit.
David stands up and forces his way out of the row and into the aisle, making his way to the exit.
P – David, wait! David stops and turns to look at Paul. It could be worse. They could be vegetarian vampires.
David rolls his eyes and shoves himself out the door.
A – Where the shit am I?
vVv
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