The E stands for effing
After two continuous, non-wavering years of watching Lightning McQueen exclusively, something miraculous happened . . . the twins fell in love with a new movie: WALL-E. At first, I was overjoyed at the simple possibility that my recurring nightmares of Owen Wilson and Larry the Cable Guy fellating chrome tail pipes would finally cease. Then, I was even more excited at the realization that WALL-E doesn't have a whole lot of dialogue, so watching it 3 or 4 times in a single day will not make me want to take an ice pick to my ears.
The only hurdle we've come across is in finding an-y-thing related to this damn movie in any physical sense whatsoever. Lightning McQueen? Is a merchandised whore. You name any object short of a dildo and they've slapped a number 95 on it, but WALL-E? Crickets.
So when it came time to go to the Big Apple, we thought this was it; if the 6 storeys between Toys R Us and the Disney Store in New York City don't have WALL-E merchandise, then no one does.
After journeying through the first 2 storeys of pure madness of wall to wall birth control, I thought fuck this shit, and found the closest Toys R Us associate . . . stressing the ASS part. He was playing, sorry, "demonstrating" a remote controlled monster truck when I approached him, "Excuse me, are there any toys or anything with WALL-E on them?"
This man-boy who resembled Rainn Wilson's younger, loser brother (whom at 35 likely still lives with his parents and masturbates to scenarios of him having a foursome with the Powerpuff Girls), looks up at me as if I just farted in his mouth and said, "Umm, no way! That movie's, like, 6 years old. Pssfft. No one has WALL-E stuff."
And as I looked around at stuffed animals from movies that were made 20 years ago, I maintained my rage at this obvious attempt at making me look stupid and replied, "I'd heard there was possibly a DVD sequel or something coming out though; (I gestured towards a Snow White display) it's not THAT old."
That's when he actually snorted and spewed back at me in his nasally voice, "Meeehhhh. What would the premise even beeee for a sequel to that movie? It's pretty open and shut. Heh."
OK, MR. FUCKING SPEILBERG MAKING MINIMUM WAGE PLAYING WITH "6 AND UP" TOYS FOR A LIVING, THANKS FOR YOUR OPINION. They did, in fact, start an entirely new civilization in a post-apocalyptic world. Humm, I can't see any opening for a sequel there whatsoever, rrrright?!
. . . is what I should have said to this vacuous douche monkey.
But I just walked away with all the hairs prickling the back of my neck, feeling like someone who had just had their intelligence spat on.
So needless to say the hunt is still on, because the boys' deep love for this stupid little robot is burning strong and not likely to fizzle anytime soon. Please take it from me: Before you promise your children they can have a particular toy for Christmas-slash-birthday, it's best to check to see if it even fucking exists first.
And to you, Mr. Floor Associate at the Times Square Toys R Us, I hope you get a raging case of Gonorrhoea from the prostitute that one day claims your virginity.