Michael kept a straight face for a moment, but his mouth twitched when he glanced back at the screen. “Hollywood, Bollywood, Schmollywood. This trumps them all.”
Michael and his musings on... er... pop culture.
Just some random Michael thoughts about movies, television, media, etc. that have been taking up space in my brain, which I need to clean out since it really ought to be used for the paper I should be writing.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
1. Fear Factor by Big Tuna
2. Schmollywood by Big Tuna
3. 21 by Big Tuna
I just watched a re-run today. God, I had forgotten how painful that show is to watch.
“Fear factor.” Michael leaned back in his chair, and Dwight was standing against the wall behind him. “My fear cannot be factored.” He spread his arms out. “I’m like a prime number, like nine.” He nodded. “You can’t break me down.”
“Actually nine is factorable by three.”
“I know.”
“Theeeen, it’s not really a prime number,” Dwight broke to Michael.
“Yeah, it is, it’s the square of three.”
“But that’s precisely why it isn’t a prime number-” Dwight mumbled quickly, trying to get it in before Michael cut him off.
“Fine, Dwight. I’m like one, then. Numer-o uno.”
Dwight looked to the camera and shook his head slightly.
Michael looked sheepishly onto his computer. He looked back to the camera, but kept sneaking glances at his screen. “Dwight recently told me I should check out this thing called Bollywood, you know, like with Kelly’s people… but see, the thing is, I thought he said Bodywood…uh… which, I googled, aaaand… it’s a porn site.”
Michael kept a straight face for a moment, but his mouth twitched when he glanced back at the screen. “Hollywood, Bollywood, Schmollywood. This trumps them all.” He turned the screen toward the cameras, which had to pixel-ate most of the image.
“Kelly’s got nothing on these. Not even Pam… then again, Pam’s not ethnic, so… I expected that much.”
Yeah...
“Winner, winner, chicken DINNER!”
Michael leaned forward in his chair. “That… is how the pros do it when they get blackjack. Like that Ben guy in the movie 21. Complete nerd, buuuut… kind of badass.”
Michael stared a bit above the camera, trying to keep a straight face. “I mean, he has sex right in front of a floor-to-ceiling window with Kate Bosworth--”
“Who’s h-awt. Babe-ilectable, right, Michael?” Andy raised his eyebrows and bared his teeth in an expectant way.
“Andy. When a woman is comfortable with her body, you’re not supposed to… to… objectify her.” Michael sighed and shook his head in Andy’s direction. He glanced to the camera. “Sorry about him. Where was I… Oh, right-o. Sex-sh in the window.” He paused and looked hopeful. “God, you’d be able to look right at the twins.”
Michael shook his head. “That’s Vegas, baby.”