The Typical Stereotypical Story

Let’s begin with “once upon a time”, because it’s mostly the best way to begin for both little and overgrown children.
So, once upon a time, there lived an Uptown Girl and once upon the same time, there lived a Smalltown Guy.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, in the middle of Uptown and Smalltown, Boy and Girl happen to see each other, and in under a minute, Girl has rehearsed the best way to say “I do” and decided how many babies she wants to have.

In under ten minutes, they exchange autobiographies and decide that they are meant to be. And what better way to celebrate the choice of one’s soulmate than to go for a romp in an open field?

But wait! There’s something missing, you say?

3,… 2,… 1,… and voilà! It’s raining!

Hey, but this still doesn’t seem totally right…

Ah! All people who fall in love in less time than it takes to bat an eyelash are such smart cookies that they spontaneously break into rhymed verse, chorus, bridge and chorus x 2!

Also, it is a well-established rule of thumb that every field in which lovers are likely to sing should have at least one tree at the center for them to run around during the song.

When Girl gets home, we meet her Father who spares you a place in his peripheral vision if you earn 10K a month, a jiffy’s glance if you earn 10K a week, a half smile if you earn 10K a day, a half-pint Sauvignon Blanc and a handshake if you’re Bill Gates; and then we meet her Mother who is sugarcoated venom, and whose lipstick (which she retouches every 60 minutes) is worth Boy’s monthly paycheck.

Father and Mother tell Girl that they know about her and boy having romped around a tree, courtesy of a friend of a cousin of an ex who happened to be on business (that was obviously none of his business) at midnight at the field with a HD camera in the hopes of capturing lovebirds and songbirds.

Father, in under two minutes, decides that Girl will be engaged and married off to one Mr. Tycoon who rolls in dollar bills in the same manner that a pig rolls in dirt, and who owns thirty-two diamonds – one embedded in each tooth.

When Girl and Boy meet next under the tree in the field, we see sorrowful profiles from different angles for five minutes or so, and then, it starts raining! They walk in slow motion around the tree and just when you think they’re going to make impactful life decisions, they start singing.

In the song, Girl tells Boy – after spewing biographies, swapping spit, running around a tree and chorusing – that they should separate. Boy sings ninety-nine synonyms of “I love you”, but girl sings an apology like Boy’s burning heart was just a frostbitten, numb toe she stepped on and runs away, leaving Boy heartbroken under the tree in the field in the rain.

(Sad background music.)

One month later (when tissue paper is scarce from all Girl’s crying), there is a wedding. The only things at the wedding that do not look fake are the tiered buttercream red velvet meringue, the meat and the merlot. All things beautiful aside, we have a peacock proud Father, a Mother with so much makeup that her face looks like bad graffiti, a Father-in-Law with a straight face and a crooked smile and a Mother-in-Law with a hat where her face should be – all dressed and decked like she’s boarding the Titanic.

Just when Girl says “I don’t” in response to the Pastor’s question, Boy, in a makeshift motorcycle, crashes the wedding, wearing a shirt that is half in and half out, Elvis pants that are half black and half white and Michael Jackson shoes that are half masculine and half feminine.

The crowd stands with lower jaws threatening to come loose and fall off while Girl and Boy give us some “suitable for children above 12” scenes – hand to hand, forehead to forehead, and then, finally… One Direction shows up in a cruise ship and starts singing “Kiss You”. (Yay, another song!)

Tycoon rips his outfit in anger (and also to give other single ladies a glimpse of his architecture) and goes back to kissing Lincoln, Franklin, Jefferson, Washington and everybody else whose face graces dollar bills.

Girl’s Father looks on like a crooked man while her Mother looks on with a crooked mouth, but they cave in eventually because he has a fetish for Elvis pants and she has a fetish for Elvis.

Nine months later, we see that Boy is a father (now that was some quick work), and is living in a mansion with his wife (courtesy of Bill Gates being the new father’s fairy-godfather). The happy couple has a grassy lawn on their property to run in and lots of trees to run around.

Now that they have arrived at point “Happily Ever After” (which is the best way to end for both little and overgrown children), everything is typically stereotypical. So it is a general consensus that the movie should end (with a song and the promise of a sequel)!


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