Trillaphon: This makes cow-tipping look like an extreme sport.
Hydrogen: Sweet merciful Christ, is this a movie or one of those fake picture frames showing the world's most boring vacation pictures?
Trillaphon: It's like 24, except instead of following an elite sexy counterrorism action squad it follows some pig farming dipshit hayseed as he makes breakfast, brews coffee for his horse and blows up tree stumps with a lasso, narrating in excruciating detail as he goes along.
Hydrogen: See, you'd think those last two details would be sort of exciting, but no. This is why post-modern farming never caught on.
Trillaphon: ...Yet. I'm still eagerly waiting for the day mankind packs up and resettles on a harsh agrarian auction planet with purple apes and little pancake guys running around buying robo-mules with their dot-catching money.
Hydrogen: This scene is right at home next to the one where Coldyron has a dinner date with someone that we never see again. Or my personal favorite, the scene where Coldyron and Steele check in to a luxury hotel as part of their frantic manhunt for a psychotic robo-killing machine.
Trillaphon: There's also that great conversation he has about some guy who's not in the movie's bowel movements. By the way, this is all way funnier if you know that this whole movie is unfolding as a police interrogation, and he's narrating all of this shit to some guys with a tape recorder in a Jiffy Lube break room.
Hydrogen: At least they took the Mr. Coffee off the table to make it look realistic.
Trillaphon: "Please speak clearly into the microphone. Now state your name, address, and why you thought it would be socially acceptable to gank the last Twix bar from the machine, when you know damn well that Twix is Carol's favorite and she's hypoglycemic."
Anton Chekhov's famous gun rule is not being followed by some lazy screen writers for the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
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