I Don’t Do Crap In My Pants Scary!

I know the title of this post is totally without taste, but it is effective and comes straight to the point. Bottom line: how does one call crapping down one leg and peeing down the other while watching a movie entertaining? Someone please raise their hand! Last night was a perfect example.

My wife enjoys scary movies. Not blood and guts scary. Just scary. I don’t like either. In fact I hate them!  And she knows it. And she still rents them. And I am forced to watch them. And the wife still laughs. When? When I crap my pants! That’s when!

Because Maxine usually does the movie renting, she slips a scary movie in from time to time. “What’s this movie?” I asks as she puts it in the DVD player.

“You’ll like it,” she says with a casual wave of the hand. “It got a…er, half star.”

“What–”

“Just watch!”

Of course the previews to other movies come first. The fact that most of these previewed movies show all the joyful frivolity of a midnight field trip to Elm Street, I become apprehensive. I give my wife nervous glances. She stares straight ahead. Then the music to the featured movie begins; not exactly Mary Poppins. From my recliner to Maxine’s, I look across. She finally slowly turns her head and gives me an evil smile. Dear Lord, I know it’s time to find my blankly! Damn that woman!

The movie begins nice enough; a happy-go-lucky family of four moving into a two-story home. Of course there has to be one member of the family who has an unexplainable ominous feeling about the place, and stops long enough to give the dark windows a nervous stare. The teenage daughter is the chosen victim in this movie. Blanky within reach. Check!

Not wanting to do something so stupid as to give me at least a few minutes of visual relaxation, the movie script wastes no time putting the daughter in the home alone. Okay, time for my first Rum and Coke. Mix drink glass? Hell no! I reach for a tall water-glass. While pouring my courage I nervously watch over my shoulder. The daughter hears foot steps upstairs, her eyes darting toward the ceiling. Not good! What! What is she doing going up the stairs? She knows her family is gone, for crying out loud! What is she hoping for? The good fairy wearing combat boots?

“Hello? Is anybody there?” Why do they always have to say that? Why? Of course there is no answer. She continues her slow ascent. The background music of violins raises in intensity. Crap on a crutch! I take a slug off my drink, suddenly realizing I hadn’t added any mixer yet. My neck hairs begin curling below the follicle line while a three-alarm fire ignites in my throat and stomach. Suddenly the front door opens and in walks the family. Needless to say, just the sound of the door opening scares the crap out of me. Anyway, crisis averted. Somewhere up in the darkness a supernatural being turns and slithers back to…well, wherever a supernatural being slithers to, all the while grumbling and kicking the floor in frustration.

As the movie slides toward its “let’s get the hell out of this house” end, the need for my blankly diminishes somewhat, being replaced by my protective super shield of four water-glass sized Rum and Cokes, the first two being chugged down like shooters. Still, I have my blanky close by for emergency use just in case the evil presence decides to give them one last kick in the ass as they leave.

“Well, what did you think of that movie?” Maxine asks with a look of satisfied glee. It was sadistically obvious that she found more entertainment in watching me than the actual movie.

I gave her a weak smile, fairly certain that I had kept the last step in my digestive system in check. “Not…not bad,” I replied as I smoothed down the remaining hairs still standing straight up. “Now, if you don’t mind I’m going to retire to the bathroom and do a trouser check.”

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8 thoughts on “I Don’t Do Crap In My Pants Scary!

  1. Rick, perhaps on movie nights with your bride, you should consider a good, form-fitting diaper or the sort, if not for any other reason than the re-sale value of your furniture.

    I’m with you, scary movies stink!

    • What I should do is definiantly get up from my recliner, go in my office, write on my blog, and leave my wife to watch the movie alone. I won’t. But it sounds good.

  2. I find characters are written so stupidly in scary movies that i get more annoyed than scared. your going doen into the cellar on your own, in the dark and unarmed.. u deserve to be killed off! Both my children love horrror movies so we do watch them from time to time, the thing mu husband and i like best is messing with them afterwards!

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