Meth Lab, House of ROACH

A truer skit could never be conceived.

He always did seem “a little wired”, perhaps “a bit keyed-up, there” and through the manufacture of meth, “BETTER LIVING THROUGH CHEMICALS”.

“I’m GAWWWWD!! Yor just a A BUG!”.

Spoken like a chest-beating frontiersman “defending his territory” before he’s thrown in a psychiatric hold “to air out”.

“Better hose him off”

That ole “jungle-juice”, “beetle-juice”, slick like unshowered balls until he smells like spoiled apples, rotten fish, and bad fermented cheese.

Mania “is fun enough” UNTIL YOU GET LOBOTOMIZED.

  

(Lydia wishes for a can of LYSOL)

     

  

(Otho “would shit”)

 

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Meth Lab, House of ROACH

Cartoon vs. LIVE ACTION

The film “Beetlejuice” lives unto a world itself……. nothing else looks like it.

And within the limitations of technology, you can do SOME THINGS but can’t go completely hog-wild.

I guess you can draft anything with animation– even further with super CGI effects, but sometimes “less is more” and you make up for it “with character”.

And stop-motion effects……. there is something “oddly more believable” with the herky-jerky movements while all-too-smooth computer animation just makes people “unsettled”.

Somewhere “between here & there” we seek to give the audience an explosively-entertaining movie WITHOUT “COMPLETELY LOSING IT”.

Remember, Beetlejuice is the kind of fiend “up to no good” behind the factory or gas station like a hangdog stink of bargain-basement derangement.

Pay him “his due”…… and don’t forget to call his name: “BEETLEJUICE” (X’s 3).

He’s “closer than you think”……

Cartoon vs. LIVE ACTION

Bloodshot Outlaw Country

A clip from Mike Judge’s “Office Space” (1999)……. as you will notice, the unruly and long-haired neighbor who looks like Metallica’s James Hetfield…… a mullet and steer-like mustache as Friday and a six-pack is your salvation, putting in long days working construction in a very practical, down-to-earth way about him.

A glint in his eyes…… like a more earnest version of dodgy Beetlejuice mannerisms and the ole’ rolling countryside of American opportunity. If ingenuity is a magician’s card trick with a down-home sense of playfulness…… and “a sizzlin’ hot” deck of naughty cards while knocking pack a mouthful of beer and a fist-full of peanuts at your autumn/winter family holiday of choice. A home-bar like a personal Old West saloon and good company.

Heaven is outdoor seating at a rock festival and a cooler of “Rolling Rock” specials with a tour program and a concert t-shirt…… farming land and punching the clock at the factory with an open-mindedness, as vast and “blue-sky thinking” as your own nephew chasing after a frog, leaping away to the sound of crickets and earnest whiff of hickory BBQ smoke.

It might not be much– but how a wise old country wayfarer “frames the question”……

Like a crafty old fox……. you’ll be amazed at his street smarts, even if that is more like an unpaved gravel road of the hearty rustic. Picture Beetlejuice in a flannel shirt and torn old blue-jeans and you’ll see his hang-dog virtues and cracker barrel companionship.

  

  

 

Bloodshot Outlaw Country

A stranger lied on the barroom floor
And drank so much he could drink no more
And so he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell bound train

The engine was bloody, it was sweaty and damp
And brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp
An imp the fuel was shoveling bones
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans

The boiler was filled with lager beer
The devil himself was the engineer
The passengers were most a motley crew
Some aboard that others he knew

Rich men in broad cloth, beggars in rags
Handsome young ladies and wicked old hags
As the train rushed on at a terrible pace
Sulfur and fumes washed their hands and face

Wider and wider the country grew
Faster and faster the engine flew
Louder and louder the thunder crashed
Brighter and brighter the lightning flashed

Hotter and hotter the air became
Till the coals were burning with its quivering flame
Then out of the distance there came a yell
“Ah ha!” said the devil, “we’re nearing hell”

Oh, how the passengers jiggled with pain
Begged old Satan to stop that train
The stranger awoke with an anguished cry
His coat wet with sweat and his hair standing high

He fell to his knees on the barroom floor
And prayed and prayed like never before
And the prayers and vows were not in vain
For he never rode that hell bound train
Aha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha


Some lyrics to ponder on…… as St. Louis broils like an angry-red lobster of awful summer weather that would impress the train-yard of Satan’s jest. After-all, we boast of the old “Union Station” which was once a railway-hub, now refashioned into a downtown mall and hopeful tourist-trap. Need “a designated driver”? Hopefully LYFT or UBER won’t put the engineer out of business…… and you’d reckon that would be BEETLEJUICE, HIMSELF in an old filthy coat and “tour-guide” hat pulling the whistle-chain.

“ALL-ABOARRRRRRD!!!”

The mad, steaming cars, haunted train sounds– snorting like a demon-steed AND FREIGHT-TRAIN TO HELL. Damnation angels and a downward journey you won’t return from, that’s for sure. Don’t look now, but the model-railway club is hijacked and miniaturized figures vaporize through portholes, AND THIS SURE AIN’T “MR. ROGERS’ NEIGHBORHOOD”.

The verisimilitudes are horrifying and you’re better jumping off the back caboose, screaming. Better this, than “HOT-WHEELS”, eh? What a strange, downward angle…… far better to shoot for the stars “than boiling dirt, below”.

Gastric juices, a besotten morsel…… Don’t be turned into “sandworm shit”.

I’d rather take a number and sit in a social security office BUT DON’T QUOTE ME ON THAT.

You could die laughing…….

Nether-Hours in PARTY-WORLD

Not all of the after-life can be drudgery, can it? Midnight at the ball and Beetlejuice would inevitably pose “as a valet”, driving off with people’s cars in a chauffer’s hat. The vehicles would be turned into twisted Tim Burton sculptures at the graveyard junk lot, incidental to the Bio-Exoricist sign down at the office. Crazy carousels and pitch-black skies, “just a night down at the bug-zapper” or just a fool’s paradise in unincorporated purgatory…… sleazy and corrupt like rotten nutball commercial time, graveyard hours only. I wouldn’t count on it, but “paid sandworm rides” aren’t a good idea in the “snake farm” business to recent arrivals. Don’t walk through strange doors and never lose the handbook…… you could die, laughing.

 

Nether-Hours in PARTY-WORLD

“Otho” of THE ARTS

  

Glenn Shadix plays “Otho”, the masterful interior decorator with a jowly air of presumption and tremendous self-control. “Just so”, with hints of Alfred Hitchcock and lugubrious, droll wit.

I see a lot of Charles Addams in this guy—as the culture required boundaries and class distinctions to make such a world to exist, kind of a “mirror image” of the uncanny, propitious, classy, and weird.

The actor who played Otho “has passed on”, but that isn’t to say WE COULDN’T FIND AN IMPERSONATOR to make a cameo, perhaps in a low-rent “infomercial sequence” that shows you, even in The Netherworld, that “the more things change the more they stay the same”.

Ambulance chasers, “medical malpractice” shenanigans—the low-rent man is impressed by the trappings of class, if even the yuppie Dietz’s “lulled by appearances”.

Do the funky art school robot, German expressionism and severe artifice to dazzle, beguile, and confound. “A paranoid Android?”, Lydia would relate to this……

“Otho” of THE ARTS

Virtual Netherworld, “LEVEL-EDITS”

Hats off to the creators of this extraordinary creation in the old “Minecraft” game-engine.

I wrote this in their YouTube comments section:

You two creatives totally KICK-ASS!!! Love the sort of “dubstep” remix of the main Beetlejuice theme. With extra programming chops, I could see “a game”, inside THE GAME (– Minecraft)…… like the bonus levels in the old StarFox for SNES with looming, galactic slot-machines and a netherworld flag-rally, outpacing the sandworms.

Here’s an idea…….

However, this is way beyond the scope of “Beetlejuice, himself”……. probably still back on “PONG”, Asteroids, and FoozeBall in like, “the 4-bit swamp” of primordial gaming. If there’s money in it, why not a game on the smart-phone?

Here’s Beetlejuice trying to outpace the desperation of modern existence– you can say he’s being chased by “REMCO, the-goheadandgitit” repossession office for delinquent payments on his junky furniture. More, “my speed”……

http://loderunnerwebgame.com/LodeRunner/

 

“Smokey & The Bandit” lives here….. “Convoy ’77”

 

Virtual Netherworld, “LEVEL-EDITS”