Jim grabs his coat, remembering at the last possible moment before vacating the room the metal collar around his ankle. He registers a remarkably overblown (for him) another-fine-mess-I've-gotten-me-into body shrug, and we cut to him rather cleverly rooting through ShadJackBlack's front float at the Disneyworld Electric Shit Parade and coming across a sharp, sharp knife. He saws. And saws. And saws and saws and saws. Saws saws saws. Saws saws saws. The Itchy and Prufrock Shooooow!
Hee. The World Gets An Email. This is kind of brilliant. We cut first to a fat man, sleeping sitting up in a chair and wearing a bathrobe. If he gets hit in the crotch with a football, this is totally the 10,000-Deutschmark-winning entry in next week's episode of Germany's Most Disturbing Home Videos. It's just so impressionistic. He wakes up and puts on his glasses when his computer wakes up and jubilantly announces, "Mail time!" Mail time? That's not what the guy says. If Nora Ephron can name a movie after that sentence, isn't it pretty much in the public domain? Robespierre wheelies around to his computer and reads aloud, "The Mystery of Push, Nevada." He then turns around and yells, "Honey, do we know a guy named Jim Prufrock?" You know what? I just stopped blaming the spammers. These people deserve all the bogus diet pills they order. Just delete it! This guy has a total of one icon on his desktop. I can't see what it's named, but it's gotta be either "My Computer" or "I'm A Compuserve Client." Cut to a kind-of cute boy who is in a demographic that would never be conned into reading this pap, reading this pap: "…investigating corruption and murder in a small Nevada town called Push." And from there to a guy savvy enough to read spam on a SPRINT PHONE, exclaiming, "…the criminal element believes that killing me will derail my investigation." A woman in her kitchen. A woman in a cubicle, passing a hard copy printed on one page. The "To" field alone was about ninety pages deep. Check it out, recognize how not-for-you this email is, and delete it before someone else has a chance to sell your name right off that list and make sure you end up with one or more of the forty-four emails I have received to my TWoP address in the past hour, with subject lines including, though not limited to (I'm not making any of these up) "multiple streams of income," "Want a $500 check," "Lose 30 LBS in one month FREE," and my favorite of the hour, "If your scared about overpaying then get a new car quote here." Incidentally, the last, most grammatically-challenged of those contains the message, "Ever See A $1 COKE WHORE? Now is your chance." No, I haven't. I'd better click here! And a new car quote as well! Y'all go shoot an email back to email@example.com and let him know how much you appreciate his strangely synergistic offer of car quotes and crack whores and payments, oh my!