Went to see Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix tonight. Reasonable movie with a fairly astounding magic fight at the end. Daniel Radcliffe is still a little wooden and Gary Oldman was acting (as in actual acting) fairly strangely, like he’d been had by the Hypno-Toad.
I digress.
As I sat in my seat patiently waiting for the torture to begin, a family came in. Mum, dad and two children gently strolled past to their seats right at the side of the cinema. Of course the two kids had to have maximum Potter exposure so wanted to sit in the middle of the cinema where I was.
It was then I had the thought of offering them the seats beside me. As soon as the thought formed, I panicked.
Images flooded into my mind of the dad standing up and yelling ‘Paedo’, at me at the top of his voice. He’d follow this up by repeatedly punching me in the face. Whilst he was doing this his wife would be yelling ‘Kill him!’, at the point where she was just about to pass out from the exertion of her hysteria, she would spot the sweets I’d bought.
This would renew her vigour.
‘He’s got sweets, he’s grooming our children! He’s a paedophile, kill him!’ she would yell. The rest of the cinema would then descend upon me and deliver the hoofing of a life time.
Of course after the crowd had, justifiably, beaten me to death, the police would come to my flat. There they would find:
- All the Harry Potter books
- A selection of games consoles
- A old teddy bear
- The Wizard Of Oz on DVD
- Bottles of Pepsi in the kitchen
This information would leak out to the press, with photos, and The Sun would run a full page headline ‘Suburban Kiddy Lure Hell Death Chamber’, or similar. They would run this piece over eight pages, there would be photos of me. I would look evil.
So I didn’t say anything. Sad world really isn’t it…