Sunday, 8 March 2015

More on the Sequel.

Jurassic Park III won’t lie down. There’s something else I have to say on the matter, and it’s this:

Our intrepid foursome – Doctor Thing, the husband and wife who are there to look for their kid, and the kid itself – are all that’s left of the party that flew there. They are beleaguered to say the least, menaced on all fronts by dinosaurs which are not only homicidal, but also more intelligent than the average YouTube commenter and permanently hungry.

Suddenly they stumble on a huge pile of dinosaur shite and their eyes do the eureka look. This pile of shite must be all that remains of the guy who was in possession of the only mobile phone (I think he was the second one to get eaten) and they know that mobile phones are indigestible. How they can know it’s the remains of the right man is never explained; they just do. So they firk among the faeces until they find it (alliteratively, of course.)

But then it’s back to the boat where they get menaced yet again by a homicidal, intelligent, hungry dinosaur. The phone washes about the deck getting wet, but it still works (!!!) and Doctor Thing calls his wife back at the homestead.

‘We’re on Dinosaur Island and in trouble,’ he says. She breaks off talking to the neighbour and does the OMG! look, before rushing off, never to be seen again. But within hours she’s mobilised two aircraft carriers, a fleet of helicopters, three amphibious landing craft, and a battalion of marines come to kick ass. (That’s what marines do, I gather. The ones in Alien 2 said so eighty seven times, approximately.) How she achieved this fantastic feat is never explained; she just did.

In the event, the marines didn’t need to kick ass. The dinosaurs knew they were beaten and skulked off camera (implicitly.) And in conclusion, the Fortitudinous Foursome got rescued and lived happily ever after.

If I think of anything else I’ll post it here. This could turn into a series.

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