Sometimes, a gift can be an endearing, moving sign of appreciation. Or occasionally, well, it's the thought the counts. But then, other times...as George Costanza might say..."Well, this is certainly a crappy gift." And we're not talking about the right-off-the-bat obviously shitty present, like Ralphie's bunny costume, Wayne's gun rack, or Clark's Jelly of the Month Club membership. We often see grandiose gifts given in cinema, but if we look a little closer...are they really as great as what's portrayed? Let's discuss.
Mustache's Used Drawers: As if the Rocky III relationship between Apollo and The Stallion isn't homoerotic enough already, Apollo feels the need to pass on quite literally his boxer shorts to Rocky that have been dangling around his dick for years. As the viewer, even we can almost smell how staunchly these pseudo-underpants reek of Jheri Curl and Black and Milds. For some reason, Rocky sees this offering as a good thing, even though Apollo keeps hinting at some "favor" from Rocky that he'll be cashing in on in the near future (much to everyone's surprise, it turns out NOT to be a buttfuckathon). It should be noted that Apollo is seen wearing (and dancing in) these britches again in Rocky IV...as if to say it was all just a ruse to lay his scent on his cherished Stallion.
Heart Attack Waiting to Happen: Ok, we fully understand (and appreciate) the metaphoric symbolism that Andy makes Red carry out in order to get Andy's letter (and a shitload of cash). But come on, Andy, the guy's damn near 70 and you're having his old ass limp up rolling hills just so you can have your little poetry of life pay off. There's not a damn soul in sight...and if there's any health issue whatsoever, that's it for ole Red. All we're saying is that perhaps you could have at least considered mailing it to him. He walks down to his mailbox...boom, message received. THEN, he could have embarked on his metaphoric journey down to see you. Just because YOU had to crawl through 500 yards of shit-smelling foulness doesn't mean everyone else does too. Asshole.
A Family of Pricks: This here is the gift that just keeps on...ya know, almost killing you. In this thriller, the cold all-business main character, Nicholas (played by Michael Douglas, if you can believe it), essentially gets a monumental kick in the balls from his brother, Connie (Chris Penn's brother). After receiving this "gift," Nicholas' life becomes a series of violent near-misses, culminating in a poorly-executed suicide attempt from Nicholas, who still miraculously comes across as a distant dickhead afterwards, proving that it's simply who Michael Douglas is regardless of scripted character development. We can't help but think they should have at least tried a more cost-friendly "Hey, you're a bastard" intervention before the grand scale charade. And oh yeah, as icing on the cake, Nicholas ends up splitting the gigantic bill for this whole fuckin escapade. That's not even something the Savage Brothers would do to each other. Well, maybe that's not entirely true.
Gremlin Clusterfuck: Ok, so you're looking for a gift for your son...you enter a poorly-lit antique shop with dingy, rusty, worthless crap laying all over...you do a little perusing over the ancient garbage thrown about...and bang, you come across a goddamn creature unknown to the modern world: the Mogwai. Rather than alert the world of a friggin new species that can seemingly talk, you decide this would be the perfect present to bestow upon your unsuspecting offspring. When the shop owner turns you down because of the great danger/responsibility associated with these mystical creatures, you resort to a back-alley agreement with a Chinese child of unknown gender to take them home with you. Well, the rest is movie history. But come on, were the 3 eerie instructions not enough to dissuade you from bringing these things into your home? No feeding after midnight? Ok, a little confusing on when that actually stops and starts, but fine, I'll work with it. No bright lights? Eh, a little strange but nothing I can't manage (especially when the creatures are seemingly locked in a friggin box 24 hours a day anyway). But no water? There's your red flag. What, you think these things run on fuckin batteries or something? No wonder you're an atrocious inventor.
Eternal Monotony: So all you have to do is swear an oath to protect the Holy Grail, and you're granted eternal life...sounds like a fantastic deal, right? Yeah...not so much. You get to spend your time wearing chainmail, growing a graybeard, staring at the wall, and falling over like a quitter when your apparent successor finally arrives to challenge you. What exactly is the draw here? So you're "blessed" with the most excruciatingly boring job ever in the history of mankind, and all you can do when the time comes to finally fulfill your responsibility is pull the knighthood equivalent of shitting your Depends? Someone confiscate the sword from this man already and put him out to pasture. What a scam.BONUS
Lifelong Plague: No need to rehash...you know how we feel about this little rodent. If we didn't already touch on this act of passing off one's unwanted debris onto an unsuspecting simpleton, we'd have more to say here. Bottom line, one look at this thing's mug is enough for any father to demand a paternity test. Loathsome.
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