The end of Depth Gauge.
From Waterworld (1995):
Depth Gauge (William Preston): Your Deaconship? [He's paddling a small boat around the oil in the ship's fuel hold, a dark and depressing job.] Hello! Good morning. Or night. Whichever the case may be...
Deacon (Dennis Hopper): What is it? I'm a busy man.
Depth Gauge: I thought you should know. We're down to exactly four feet, nine inches of black stuff... [Deacon spits on his head.] Thank you, sir!
[Later, up on the ship's deck.]
Mariner (Kevin Costner): I want the girl. That's all.
Deacon: Well, what on this screwed-up earth of ours makes you think you're gonna get her? [Mariner takes a flare from his belt, and holds it over a hole leading down to the ship's fuel hold.]
Mariner: You know what this is. I drop it, you burn.
Doctor (John Fleck): We all burn.
Deacon: Now-now-now, let's not do anything rash here. I mean, are you sure this kid is worth it? I mean, she never does stop talking, she never shuts up!
Mariner: I noticed.
Deacon: So what is it, then? It's the map.
Mariner: She's my friend.
Deacon: Golly gee, a single tear rolls down my cheek. You're gonna die for your friend.
Mariner: If it comes to that. [He ignites the flare, and holds it over the hole again.]
Nord (Gerard Murphy): He's bluffing! I'll kill him.
Enola (Tina Majorino): He's not bluffing, he never bluffs.
Deacon: SHUT UP! [to Mariner] I-I-I-I-you know, I don't think you're gonna drop that torch, my friend.
Mariner: Why not?
Deacon: Because you're not crazy. [Mariner smiles, lifts his hand, and drops the flare down the hole.] NO-O-O-O-O!
[Down below, paddling around in the oil, Depth Gauge sees the lit flare falling from above - it's an end to his miserable existence.]
Depth Gauge: Oh, thank God! [KABOOM]
Naked Chicken For Orally-Fixated Perverts.
In the newsroom, we have three monitors at each workstation. Two screens are for computer work, and the third is a TV, so we can keep track of the news channels. The TVs are all muted, to keep us from going crazy with the din. So I've been watching this Taco Bell ad with no sound, from the corner of my eye, ever since the company introduced its "Naked Chicken Chalupa" about five weeks ago. When you can't hear the words, the meaning seems abundantly clear - at least to a pervert like me - supercool Fifties guy is cruising in his convertible with his cute cheerleader girlfriend, when he glances down at his crotch and waggles his eyebrows at his female companion. Then he hands her a piece of food, obviously urging her to "eat it." She's upset for some reason - maybe she's never heard these words from a guy before? But he flashes her a smarmy smile, which induces her to give in, get busy, and do exactly what he wants. At this point, the ad seems to suggest that we've flashed forward twenty years, and the couple has raised another generation of chicken-eating perverts.
I heartily enjoyed this twisted little imaginary scenario, and the incessant barrage of ads finally had its intended effect: I headed over to the nearest Taco Bell today... only to find that THEY HAVE REMOVED THE NAKED CHICKEN CHALUPA FROM THEIR MENU.
Bastards. It's enough to give a guy blueballs.
Labels: nfh