I like crime. Movies, in da movies. Yanno, my career is proof that crime pays . . . in da movies. So when Marco asked me if I would be innerested in doing a review of Fargo, I told the stuttering prick to kiss my ass. Of fucking course I would be innerested! And then I asked him what in the fuck Fargo was about. He says it’s one of the greatest movies, like ever. I betcha he’s one of dose guys who says every fucking thing is the best thing ever. But okay, I ain’t sleeping much so what the fuck.
Fifteen minutes into this shit pancake, I found something that puts me to sleep. I woke up just in time for the closing credits so I called Marco and asked him if he thought he was a wise guy. But the asshole insisted I go back and watch the rest of dis flick and if I made it to the end without trowing up my brain, he’d send me a bottle of Chivas. I told the cheap bastid if he made it a box, I was in. Deal.
So okay . . what inspired me to waste almost two hours of my life when I ain’t got two hours to waste? Other than Chivas? I have no idea. But I did it and lemme tell ya . . . I would rather have been given a Sriracha enema. There’s more action going on in a retirement community than there is in this movie, which is based on a true story. Which just goes to prove how boring life really is for most people.
Da plot goes like dis. Some asshole is trying to get out of debt so he arranges for his wife to be ‘kidnapped’ so that he can get his rich father in law to pay the ransom to cover his debt. My Uncle Sal tried that with my Aunt Rosemary . . we still laugh about it. So da plot as they say in da classy books, goes awry. During the exchange, the father in law gets shot by the fake kidnapper but he ends up shooting him in the face before croaking. So now the fake kidnapper has da money but he’s also got a hole in his face that napkins ain’t gonna fix. And then he finds out that the asshole who planned the whole thing was trying to schtup him and his partner by lying about the ransom amount. Needless to say this changes everything.
Meanwhile, this pregnant chick who happens to be a cop is starting to figure out that the husband of this supposedly kidnapped woman is fulla shit. She’s by far the most inneresting character, because she’s still working even though she’s about ta go inta labor. And not only that, but she’s got a certain something about her that, God forgive me for saying dis but . . I’d still bang hah. She’s clever too, which I find very attractive, unless it’s being used against me.
So the wife who’s been kidnapped, bullshitedly, she gets taken out. So does the kidnapper with da hole in his face, after which he’s disposed of in a wood chipper, and I mean . . why didn’t I think of that?! It’s beautiful! And then the husband is caught. which is good for him I guess because now he ain’t in debt no more, and he can’t fuck up anything else. But really . . . two hours of nothing much happening to get to any good stuff is a bigger waste of time than doing a sequel to Casino.
Marco owes me two boxes of Chivas now.