I tried to explain John Dies at the End to my husband by describing it as “The Hitckhikers Guide to The Galaxy but with horror instead of sci-fi and way more fucked up,” and I’ll stand by that statement for this review.
“So we’re on this date, right, fancy restaurant, posh wine, candlelight so dim she can’t see my face – we’re onto a winner, is all I’m saying.”
Tumbleweed. This crowd is the worst.
“Then the waiter comes over and brings us a menu. And I open it, and I’m looking through, and it all sounds lovely. Posh shit, but lovely. Tiny things on massive plates, with green stuff smeared on the side like baby poo. You know the sort of stuff.” Continue reading “Stand Up, Please”