Sense and Sensibility and Alcohol

When my friends and I gather en masse and add alcohol, the results are… mixed. A great deal of ideas are generated; most of which rank somewhere between “ill-considered” and “fifteen-letter-‘shit’-bad” (as in: “oh shiiiiiiiiiittt”).  Occasionally, though, something bobs to the inebriated surface that withstands the cynical light of day.

During the last such gathering, the topic of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies was broached, and after some discussion, I mentioned that I’d probably enjoy it more if I read the original first, so I could appreciate just how badly it was being mangled, which prompted me to spout a brief synopsis of the knowledge I do have of the source material. It went something like this:

“There’s some poor girl who meets some rich dude and they’re… destined to be together (there’s a whole sarcastic flourish of the hands there) but she thinks he’s a dick because of something some other dude said but it turns out he‘s really a dick and the other dude’s not so bad so she stops being poor and they get married and make with the love,”

Seriously.

There are about a million pages of results for "Pride and Prejudice;" all identical, so I found a picture of puppies instead. It felt more masculine.

…which sounds like the ignorant illiterate’s guide to the CliffsNotes version of the story. I know; I’m like dehydrated Dickens: pour some drinks in me and I’m a certifiable literary genius. At any rate, this got a decent chuckle, and led to the suggestion of CliffsNotes written by people who hadn’t read the source, because most people who read the CliffsNotes either aren’t going to read the original material either, or they’ll get the joke.

With that in mind, I humbly present:

Sense and Sensibility, as summarized by someone who’s never bothered to read it, and isn’t particularly a fan of the genre, which will soon become patently obvious.You have excellent eyesight. Or a small monitor.

This is the harrowing, epic tale of the occurrence of a great deal of nearly nothing. Conversations are had, conflicts avoided and grass grown, all of which leads to the swooning of generations of female readers. That, at least, is the popular opinion. Not so! Once the flowery prose is filtered out, it’s actually quite raunchy and action-packed for the time.

The plot centers around the daily life of a woman of modest means who is boring as sin. A shy-but-not-unsexy man-neighbor yearns for her affection, but she’s ignorant of his endearingly fumbling attempts to charm her. Her friends try to take her out to… [period-appropriate forms of social entertainment]*, but she refuses. Until, that is, her world is soundly rocked by the introduction of a swarthy brigand to her modest cast of characters.

He sweeps her off her feet (figuratively and literally) and whisks her away to a life of underground pit fighting and various skulduggery, wherein she quickly becomes the Queen Mother of Bastards (which, really, is a figurehead position, but the perks are plenty, and Ill-icit).

She enjoys her new found fame and badassery for a time, forgetting all about her old life, but it all goes sour when she learns that her former neighbor (remember that guy from Act I, whom she didn’t notice was a winning combination of not bad looking and eager to get down to bidness) has come to find her, and been captured by the nefarious scoundrels with whom she now keeps company, who mean to harm him as entertainment.

Appalled at what she’s become, she rips off and casts aside her QMoB vestments (revealing a sensible and unlikely pantsuit underneath), and proceeds to kick vast quantities of ass on the way to rescue the man she once ignored. After a rousing chase scene through the underground labyrinth of debauchery, she (somehow) explodes her former compatriots in crime, rescues her new love interest, and they ride off into the night. The next night, he proposes to her, so long as she will retain at least a degree of… wait for it… sense and sensibility (boosh!).

*You know, excessively foofy dresses, entire rooms of very prissy, very waspy white people who jaw-laugh while extolling the virtues of civility and seem to dance together by way of dancing with no one in particular while not so much dancing as sort of prancing around the room, slow motion high-fiving one another, with ruffly cummerbunds as far as the eye can see.

Added Bonus: Two Single Sentences to Summarize Fourteen Movies I Haven’t Seen

Titanic

Poor fellow boards a ship, which turns out to be quite an unwise decision, despite the fact that he gets to partake of some fancy-pants dancing and rich-girl-lurvin’.

Any Movie Ever Made That Revolves Around Dancing (i.e. Footloose, Dirty Dancing, Flashdance, Saturday Night Fever, Save The Last Dance, You Got Served, Shall We Dance?, Stomp The Yard, Take the Lead (a.k.a. Dangerous Mambos), Bring It On, Bring It On Again (Ho!), Better Bring That Shit Back So U Can Bring It On Again Cause Now It’s ON FOR REALS (For Tha Third Time!), Step Up, Step Up 2 Da Streetziszs)

People dance, conflict ensues, all problems resolved through more or higher quality dancing.

(Extra double-plus good added bonus: replace all forms of the word “dance” with “shoot,” “stab,” “explode” or “kung-fu” and you’ve got 99% of action movies, too!)

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~ by tazehim on July 1, 2009.

2 Responses to “Sense and Sensibility and Alcohol”

  1. Mighty fine shindig, sir!!

    FIREFLY TAGS FTW!!

    I have to say, oftentimes, the tags are like the delicious cherry atop the already tasty sundae of your ramblings.

  2. Generally I do not post on blogs, but I would like to say that this post really forced me to do so, Excellent post!

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