True story about watching Oppenheimer in theatres
So I took the wifey to see Oppenheimer. She was wearing a pink dress, and I was in a dress shirt and pants. This turned out to be a mistake.
Upon arriving at the theater, we noticed that there were a lot of Millennial aged women wearing pink. Since I have bleach blonde hair and a spectacular body, they thought that I was cosplaying Ken and my wife was Barbie. I noticed that none of the Millennial women had male dates. Hundreds encircled me and my wife and asked if I was cosplaying Ken.
"No, honestly, I'm not!" I said to their accusations, trying to laugh it off.
"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself. You're totally knocking it out of the park!", said an adoring female.
The gaggle of women seemed to multiply around me, their pink outfits forming an iridescent bubble that seemed to isolate us from the rest of the world. My wife, playing along, flashed them a Barbie-perfect smile, though I could tell she was holding back a laugh.
"Let me get a selfie with you!" said the lady with the pink leggings. She snapped an isntagram photo and then it was like a sea of pink rushed in.
"I want that handsome Ken!" said a lady with a pink feather boa. More photos snapped.
I replied, "Please, I'm not Ken! I'm just a guy who dresses nice out on a date..."
"Let's agree to disagree," said a lady in a tutu.
At first, my wife found it hilarious. But as the bras and the panties started flying in the air she seemed to lose her sense of humor.
"Honey", my wife desperately cried out from afar, "Honey, what's going on?"
I replied, "Help me baby!"
The lady in pink stilettos then said, "Let's see if he's like Ken everywhere!" as she grabbed my junk, and then dozens others did.
"No, please. I just want to be with my wife!" I said, as they held me down and started unbuttoning my shirt.
"Oh, he's got abs of steel. Even better than Ryan Goslings'" said the lady in pink booty shorts. "Let me ride him first!" she said as they took off my pants.
Moments before getting raped by hundreds of women in pink, a cloud hit over the mob. People started coughing and tearing up except for me, since I'm a man and don't cry. My wife had deployed pepper spray and saved my seed for herself only.
"Oh, thanks babe" I told her while gathering my clothes. "You know I only want you!"
She replied, "And you know that I'm the luckiest girl in the world"
The pepper spray started to wear off. "Quick!" I said, "We've got to hide where they won't find us".
My wife said "But where will that be?"
I said, "I know. Let's go hide behind the incels". I grabbed her hand and took her inside the theater playing Oppenheimer.
A obese neck beard wearing a Manga shirt who smelled like Doritos and Code Red Mountain Dew was the first person we walked by. He asked, "Is that like a real woman? Like Princess Peach?" Aghast at the lack of social skills, my wife reminded ourselves that we were here to hide from a mob and pushed through. There was an army of incels in the theater, and she was the only female.
These people were so lonely that they cheered when Florence Pugh got naked for seemingly no reason in the movie, and even took photos with their phones of said scene. "She's a goddess" said a guy who made the Stay Puft Marshmellow man look like he's slim.
"What are those things on her chest?" said the guy with pit stains on his Avengers' T-shirt.
"That, my good man, are called breasts. Women have them," I tried to explain, but it seemed to cause more confusion among the crowd than anything else.
"Oh, I see. Like in my anime?" another piped in, a guy in a Naruto headband, clearly more invested in his 2D waifus than real women.
It was sad. I could tell that these people desperately needed to get laid.
As my wife and I nestled into our seats in the very back of the theater, surrounded by this ragtag group of socially inept men, we couldn't help but feel a strange sense of safety. Here, in a den of incels who had more interest in anime figures and comic book heroines than actual women, my wife was practically invisible, and I, the accidental Ken, was just another guy.
Well, so the film goes on and it meanders. It could have been good had he cut half of it that goes nowhere. I did notice that every 20 minutes Nolan put an explosion to wake up everyone that fell asleep. The big bomb finally gets tested, and that was cool, but then there was like an hour more to the movie with the least subtle political plot ever. Yes, we get it, Strauss hates Oppenheimer but is blaming it on someone else. In case you didn't catch it, they repeat this 10 times.
Finally, after 3 hours, the movie ends as the incels give it thunderous applause and pretend it's the greatest film ever made. I smile as I walk with my wife back to my car, knowing that no amount of crazy adorring women or socially inept men can stop me from loving my wife. We made love for 4 hours when we got back to the house.
Wait to rent on Redbox. 7 out of 10.