Faith Can Move Mountains... But Dynamite Works Better

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Revenge Of The Killer Rabbit

Time to do a movie review today. If you haven't seen this one, you're going to be confused.


"The Lady Of The Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. That is why I am your king." ~ King Arthur
"Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not some farcical aquatic ceremony." ~ Dennis

"You don't frighten us, English pig dogs. Go and boil your bottoms, you sons of a silly person. I blow my nose at you, so-called Arthur King, you and all your silly k-nig-its." ~ French Soldier

"This new learning amazes me, Sir Belvedere. Explain again how sheep's bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes." ~ King Arthur

"Please! This is supposed to be a happy occasion! Let's not bicker and argue over who killed who." ~ King Of Swamp Castle


There are more conventional adaptations that have been done about the story of King Arthur and his knights of Camelot. The story has been told in classic films, animation, musicals, and soaring action epics. On the other hand, a film about Arthur that features a killer rabbit, French soldiers in England for no reason, historians getting killed, and the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch.... well, that's something entirely different. Monty Python And The Holy Grail is the 1975 film from the British comedy troupe of John Cleese, Michael Palin, Graham Chapman, Terry Gilliam, Eric Idle, and Terry Jones, and it skewers the legend of Arthur in as thorough a way as can be done. It is one of those films that, if you have no tolerance for silliness, will drive you nuts. But on the other hand, if you love it, you can watch it countless times and still find it hilarious.

The Pythons wrote this film, a proper narrative with plenty of sight gags, after the earlier sketch comedy film And Now For Something Completely Different, compiling a series of comedy bits from the troupe's television series. This one was meant to actually tell a story while keeping true to the irreverent nature of the Pythons. It's become a classic comedy, arguably the Pythons at their very best, and features the most maddening (and strangely that makes it work so well) ending in movie history. The film was directed by two of the Pythons, Gilliam and Jones... along with a bunch of llamas, if you believe the opening credits. The Pythons play multiple roles throughout, backed up by other actors and actresses.



Arthur (Chapman) and his squire Patsy (Gilliam) are roaming around the English countryside gathering knights and arguing with castle guards about the air speed of swallows. Soon the core of the knights of Arthur are gathered together: Sir Belvedere the Wise (Jones), Sir Galahad the Pure (Palin), Sir Lancelot The Brave (Cleese), and Sir Robin The Not So Brave As Sir Lancelot (Idle). They and the rest of the knights are  tasked by the Almighty to find the Holy Grail. Their quest leads them across the land, sometimes as a group, sometimes on their own, against all manner of threats, meeting strange people along the way. From the misuse of a Trojan Rabbit to peasants with very modern political views, the knights find themselves caught up in their quest... and in a very silly movie.


I've long since lost track of how many times I've seen this movie. The writing by the Pythons is still as fresh today as it must have been when the series was on the air and when these movies were being made. There is an absurd, anarchist streak to their style, and it comes across in this movie. Instead of telling a conventional story, they turn convention upside down, breaking the Fourth Wall, mixing together the story they're telling with a wink at the audience, their signature animation style that breaks in from time to time, and the warped humour that masks just how clever the writing actually is. If you see the surviving Pythons today, that warped sense of humour is still there in each, so the whole movie is very much their personalities writ large. And it's delightfully twisted that way. 


The troupe filmed on location, and if you watch the special features, there's a short film of Palin and Jones wandering through some of the areas they filmed in. We learn that one castle was used over and over again in different ways, and seeing the two going here and there all those years later, trading stories and sharing jokes along the way, is interesting in and of itself. The troupe shot the film with the resources they had, but even so, the England of a thousand years ago looks and feels grim and dirty- indeed, when Arthur happens to be passing through a village, one of the villagers tells another that he must be a king, because he doesn't have shit on him. Peasants dig around in the mud for a living. A king keeps building castles in a swamp. And the film has that feel of being out of time, from costuming to set decoration. Even on a budget, if you look around at things while all of this mayhem unfolds between characters, it feels like you're back in the past. Jones and Gilliam direct in different ways, too. Jones goes more for the quick gag, while Gilliam is more of a storyteller- you can see hints of films yet to come for him here, since he went on to direct surreal films like The Fisher King, Brazil, The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, and 12 Monkeys.


The Pythons are augmented by a number of other actors who appeared in various Python films. Neil Innes has multiple roles, but primarily as Sir Robin's minstrel, cheerfully singing about the knight's habit of running away from the slightest sign of danger. He had quite a lot of Python connections, and has sometimes been called the seventh Python. Connie Booth is hilarious as a woman accused by an angry mob of being a witch; she was Cleese's wife at the time. And Carol Cleveland plays Zoot and Dingo, twin sisters who live with other women at a castle Galahad comes across... all of whom are very tempting to the apparently virtuous Galahad ("let me go back in there and face the peril!" he tells the ferocious Lancelot after being dragged out).


The Pythons all have primary and secondary roles. Gilliam plays the mostly silent Patsy (though he gets a wonderfully subdued line about Camelot only being a model), but it might surprise you to know that he also played the bridgekeeper of the Bridge Of Death, a decrepit and crazy old man, barely recognizable under a whole lot of makeup. Idle plays the cowardly Sir Robin as if the character is terrified every moment- which works wonderfully. Errol Flynn would be shocked by the notion of a knight quaking in fear. Idle also gets a number of secondary roles, my favourite of that lot being a rather confused guard inside Swamp Castle, trying to clarify his orders. Jones has a primary role as Sir Belvedere the Wise, not nearly as wise as he claims to be, as much of his knowledge is simply preposterous. Perhaps his biggest laughs, however, are reserved when he's playing the secondary character Prince Herbert, being forced by his father to marry a princess when he'd rather just sing.


Chapman plays the cornerstone role of Arthur, and in this context, it's challenging. He must convey the gravity and seriousness of a king- which he does- at the same time as keeping a straight face while the king goes through simply ludicrous situations. We believe he's Arthur- he certainly looks the part, and carries himself like a king as he makes his way through his lands. It's in those more human moments that the role takes on a really marvelous quality- such as when he gets completely exasperated by the peasant Dennis to the point where he loses his temper. Cleese plays Lancelot in a way we might not expect. Where Lancelot has often been portrayed as the dashing hero who seduces the king's wife, Cleese goes for his own take on the role. Here he is the take no prisoners, ferocious warrior who charges right into a situation with his sword ready, not bothering to ask questions first. Among his secondary roles is the demented Tim the Enchanter, appearing late in the film, warning the knights of what lies ahead, and they must conclude Tim is a very strange person. Michael Palin has always been my favourite of the Pythons; he seems like such a nice person in real life, and yet you get the sense that underneath all that is a marvelously devious sense of humour. His primary role is Galahad the Pure, and he plays the character as brave and noble, loyal to the king and the quest... and when he finds himself in the midst of all those beautiful women who only want him for his body... his nobility is tested to the limit. We couldn't blame him for giving into temptation, could we? He also gets a number of hilarious secondary roles, including the peasant Dennis, arguing with the King about the responsibility of executive power, and as the King Of Swamp Castle, irritated by the existence of his son Prince Herbert, the confused guards, and the strange knight of Camelot who comes barging into his castle, wounding or killing half the wedding guests.


Monty Python And The Holy Grail represents the Pythons at their best and most demented. It's an absurd retelling of the Arthurian story that skewers the genre of swords and sorcery, infuses a twisted sense of humour into everything, and ends in a way that's just as demented. Have you seen it? And if so, what's your favourite moment in the film?




Monday, March 24, 2014

When Lars Ulrich Met Lars Ulrich

Before we get ourselves started today, links to be seen to. Norma has revamped the look of her blog, so go on over and see what it looks like. And at our joint blog yesterday, we did a Snippet Sunday post.

Now then... this was just a matter of time coming, you know...


Entertainment Reporters Perplexed By Two Men With Same Name; Real Reporters Not At All Surprised

Calgary (CP) Heavy metal band Metallica came to town today for a press conference in advance of a weekend of concerts at the Saddledome. Band members James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich, Robert Trujillo, and Kirk Hammett came out before the assembled press at the Metropolitan Conference Centre. Unfortunately, this being an event about music, the press included entertainment reporters, who are truly some of the dumbest human beings on the planet, in this reporter’s opinion.

“Hello, Santa Monica!!!” Hetfield yelled as he walked in.

“James, we’re in Calgary,” Hammett reminded his bandmate.

“We are?” Hetfield asked. “How did I get through Customs?”

“You were drunk,” Trujillo replied. This reporter rolled his eyes, wondering who he had annoyed by having to be present at a press conference for a pack of over the hill brain damaged heavy metal musicians. Well, it could have been more over the hill. Metallica, after all, are younger than the decrepit Rolling Stones, who have a combined age of ten thousand nine hundred twenty three years old.

“Well, we’re here and we’re gonna blow the roof off the arena, or concert hall, or wherever the hell we’re playing,” Hetfield boasted. “It’s gonna be big, it’s gonna be loud, and it’s gonna be a night to remember! Just as long as no one thinks they’re gonna get away with recording us and putting us on Youtube, because we’re Metallica, and we’re not gonna put up with our music being out there for free! Our fans will pay through the nose for our music!”


This reporter tried not to sigh. Heavy metal, in this reporter’s opinion, is not music. Trujillo spoke up. “It’s a big night for us, isn’t that right, Lars?” he asked, clapping the band’s drummer 
on the back.

“What?” Lars yelled, staring around as if confused. “Speak up, dammit!”

“I said, it’s a big night for us!” Trujillo repeated as a shout.

“Oh! Yeah! Right!” Lars nodded. “Definite big night!”

This reporter spoke up. “How do you answer those who think you’re long past your prime? What, seriously, is the point to your continued touring around the world and playing endless concerts?”

Hetfield replied, “The booze.”

“The groupies!” Hammett added.

“The drugs!” Trujillo noted. “Oh, wait… I’m not supposed to talk about that on the advice of my attorney.”

“What the **** did you just say?” Lars yelled.

At this moment, there was a stir from the back of the room. This reporter looked back, as did a number of other reporters. We all saw him passing by. RCMP Inspector Lars Ulrich, the legendary Mountie with a fearsome reputation and a hatred of entertainment reporters. He was in his utility uniform, walking briskly, looking through a folder, not noticing the reporters nearby. At least until a correspondent with Entertainment Tonight called out, “Hey, it’s Lars Ulrich!”

Hetfield looked at Lars. “What the **** does that mean? You’re Lars.”



Inspector Ulrich stopped in his tracks. He looked at the crowd of reporters and sighed in dismay. Entertainment reporters looked back and forth between the band and the Inspector. The correspondent from ET blurted out, “Two Lars Ulrichs? But which one is which? I can’t tell the difference between them.”

Ulrich stared. And then he walked right through the crowd of reporters, up beside the band, pausing as if assessing each of them in turn, and finding each man lacking. He stopped before Lars. “So, you’re the other Lars Ulrich.”

“What???” Lars yelled. “You’ll have to speak up!”

“I said, you’re Lars Ulrich!” Ulrich shouted at him.

“Well of course I am!” Lars said with a nod. “Who are you?”

I’m Lars Ulrich!” Ulrich yelled at him, sounding angrier by the moment.

“That’s ridiculous!” Lars insisted. “I’m Lars Ulrich, not you. I’m the drummer, not you!”

“I never said I was a drummer! Are you an idiot???” Ulrich shouted in his face.

“No, he’s just a little deaf,” Hammett said. “Thirty plus years of metal music have done that to him.”



Ulrich glared at Hammett. “If I wanted your opinion, I’d tell you what to say.”

The reporters gathered closer. The ET correspondent spoke up, his face seeming to be confused. “Hi, I’m Max Maguire, Entertainment Tonight. Which one of you is the Metallica drummer? I can’t tell the difference.”

“Neither can I,” a reporter with Access Hollywood agreed.

“Wow…” a TMZ correspondent remarked. “It’s like they’re mirror images of each other.”

Ulrich glared at them, standing side by side with Lars. “Are you idiots really that stupid? He doesn’t look anything like me! He’s a lot older than I am! And he looks like he was hit in the face with an ugly stick!” Any real reporter could see that. The two Ulrichs indeed looked nothing alike.

Maguire shook his head. “They must have been separated at birth. That’s the only explanation! Lars! Other Lars! Any chance you two will appear on stage together during that concert?”

Ulrich stepped away from the band, walking towards Maguire. “Run,” he told him in a low, growling voice.

“Is that a no to the joint appearance in the concert?” Maguire asked.

Ulrich turned away for a moment, looking back towards the band. Then he threw a punch, hitting Maguire in the chin, sending him flying eight feet. Maguire rubbed his chin, sitting up. “Is it something I said?”

Ulrich started yelling, running towards Maguire. Some primal instinct urged Maguire to flee, the Inspector hot on his heels. This reporter later learned Maguire turned up in hospital, where he’ll be eating his meals out of a straw for the next six months. In this reporter’s opinion, he had it coming.

The other Lars Ulrich had the last word, in the wake of the Inspector’s departure. “Who was that guy, and did he say something about me getting hit by a goggly tick?”



Saturday, March 22, 2014

Dropping The Spammers Into A Volcano


Today happens to be my six hundredth published blog, and I've decided to tackle the bane of many a blogger's existence. Before I get into it, some links to see to. Norma marked International Happiness Day at her blog. Eve looked at the positive side of rejection. Mark faced the prospect of a chocolate lover's worst nightmare. Krisztina explored edible flowers at her blog. Shelly has been looking ahead to the A-Z challenge. Yesterday the Square Dogs had their weekly spotlight. Lucy the cat was in a most precarious place. Lastly, Lynn had some sad news about her dog Rose.


They are all around us. They never give up, never take a hint. In fact, I can predict with certainty that this blog will get attention from the accursed vile fiends. Yes. The spammers. Those buffoons who endlessly send comments that spam handbags, shoes, vacations, insurance, medication, porn, and much, much more, all while butchering the English language. From time to time they ask if I'll let them do a guest blog, or take them on as an apprentice. Other times they'll tell me that some of my comments come from brain dead people.

Generally my spam filters catch these comments from spambots or residents of a far off place like Malaysia, and toss them into the oblivion of spam folders as required. I might get notices in my email about them, but not always. A look at the spam comments will show them, and of late, a lot of them are either Chinese or Japanese. What follows below is copied and pasted verbatim from one such spammer. I defy you to try to figure out their logic.



Even when you could carefully spending budget your money and then try to preserve up, sometimes there may be an unexpected occurrence that needs cash swiftly. Regardless of whether a car accident happens or maybe your costs is significantly more than standard, who knows once this can take place. Read this write-up for tips on utilizing pay day loans sensibly.

Rheumatoid arthritis is becoming more and more popular! When you notice you have discomfort, irritation, or rigidity about your joint parts, it is essential that you can see your doctor right away! This may be a sign of joint inflammation, and in case that is the case, you want therapy to begin with as quickly as possible. Be sure, additionally you, question your personal doctor what sort of arthritis it really is. This can be beneficial when getting the correct therapy!

  Even though you're working your blog, that doesn't mean that your web site doesn't must seem good. Every single weblog must be pleasing, so spend some time to style a beautiful web site. Most hosts can have web template instruments you can utilize, so make the most from them with the help of eye-catching characteristics that may truly pop when folks see your webpage

Lemon juice is known to support lighten your pearly whites. It is additionally proven to get rid of tarter and oral plaque, that can make teeth seem yellow. You must mix identical levels of warm water and freshly squeezed lemon juice. Utilize this to rinse off the mouth area out prior to scrubbing your pearly whites.

 Even when you have checked out and twice checked the climate forecast, take together an added pair of clothing. The weather conditions forecasters are often completely wrong and an unforeseen rainstorm can abandon your moist and uncomfortable. Dressing up in layers allows you to be prepared for a selection of conditions. You may take items away from as it warms up up and place them again on since the temp falls. If you want to understand something, process it frequently. The greater number of instances you exercise some thing, the more effective recall you will possess. This can be a way of html coding anything into the element of you brain that is mainly responsible for long term memory. If you do not training, the new details will remain to put it briefly-term storage and will also be effortlessly neglected.


I'm back again. Okay, so we have ourselves a spammer who starts off with payday loans, moves into arthritis relief (arthritis is popular???), rambles about site development, lemon juice, and finishing with dressing for the weather. All while it reads like someone ran a foreign language through Google Translate and literally copied and pasted that in without getting the nuances of the English language. Example: an unforeseen rainstorm can abandon your moist and uncomfortable. Oh, sure, that makes sense. It also reads like a multiple personality patient, moving from subject to subject without a second thought.

Note to spammers: I don't like you. My own comment blurb tells you I don't like you. Do I really have to send Dick Cheney after you? Because all I have to say is you're a lawyer, and he'll be fetching Ol'Bessie (that's what he calls his favourite shotgun). You are a vile and despicable pestilence walking the face of the earth and sending out copious amounts of e-crap. You waste perfectly good oxygen. I am not going to publish your comments. I am not going to be your pal. I am not going to answer to that email promising an inheritance of four million dollars from the widow/ daughter/ concubine of the late beloved Reverend/ General/ Secretary Of Corruption Mumbasa Goodfriend of Nigeria. 

Do the world a favour, spammers. Hold your breath.

For an hour.


Wednesday, March 19, 2014

There Is No Such Thing As Too Much Snow

Some links to see to first off.  Grace has had mermaids in her photoblog the last couple of days. Parsnip has a rather dramatic shot at her blog today. Krisztina had an Irish recipe at her blog the other day. The Real Maple Syrup Mob had a visitor at their door. And take a look at some of the critters emerging from hibernation at the Bondi blog. 


The end of winter is upon us, though it doesn't feel that way here. Tomorrow is the first day of spring (officially) in the Northern Hemisphere, and we're still quite snow covered. Some of you, for some odd reason, dislike winter- I don't really understand why, mind you. I thought today I'd do an image blog as an ode to winter. Enjoy!






Monday, March 17, 2014

St. Patrick Versus The Frown Of Grumpy Cat

It's Saint Patrick's Day today; some links for you to check out then. At our joint blog, we have some advice to follow. Have a look at Krisztina's blog for dessert ideas. Shelly has a leprechaun excerpt here. Eve takes a quick look at a pair of classic Irish themed movies. And also check out my photoblog for a look at the St Patrick's parade in Ottawa.


I'll leave you with this assortment of Irish and St. Pat's themed pics. Enjoy!



Saturday, March 15, 2014

Crashing Right Through Ye Olde Fourth Wall

Some links to see to before we get started today. Norma writes about spoilers today. At Two Little Fur Peeps and A Writer, Shelly's dogs SPAL and Hairball pointed out yours truly here and here. Eve had some poetry this week. Cheryl has a look at a lighthouse. And AngryParsnip has another Square Dog Friday at hand. 

Now then, for those who might be new in these parts.... yes, this is going to confuse you.


"Neo, there is a theory that some of us subscribe to. Others believe it is impossible. We know the Matrix is a false reality. We live here in the Real World, struggling to free all of humanity. The theory, however, suggests that even this Real World is a fiction, that there is a Fourth Wall out there, and everything we do is being watched by others beyond that Fourth Wall. Yes, Neo. Especially when you and Trinity are having sex. Yes, Neo, they can see that tattoo of the Mona Lisa on your butt." ~ Morpheus

"Mr. Kendall, tear down this Fourth Wall." ~ Zombie Reagan

"How dare this Kendall insult the beloved memory of our Glorious Saint Ronald Reagan, the greatest President in the history of the universe, by suggesting he's a zombie. When we find you, Mr. Kendall, we will have you hung, drawn, and quartered, I promise you." ~ Senator Ted Cruz

"Senator, you're a wanker." ~ William Kendall


A computer lab. Evening. A man sits working at a computer. Someone approaches. He is clad in the red serge of the RCMP dress uniform. He also looks angry. He often is angry, after all. Particularly when he's around entertainment reporters. For this is Inspector Lars Ulrich, legendary Mountie and scourge of entertainment reporters. He strides up towards the man, grabbing him by the shoulder, turning him roughly around in the chair.

"Whoa! I was working here!" the man says.

"William Kendall?" Ulrich demands.

"Yes, that's me," Kendall replies.

"I've been looking for you. You're the author of my misfortunes," Ulrich says in a way that suggests he's thinking of how to separate his head from his shoulders.

"Wait a minute... wait... this isn't possible," Kendall says, staring up at the angry Mountie. He looks around, and finally whispers, "Lars?"

"Yes, Lars," Ulrich confirms with an angry growl. "I've broken through that Fourth Wall and found you at last. Were you expecting another Mountie?"

Kendall shrugs. "Well, considering how much I make fun of Darth Harper The Vile, yes. How's this possible? You're a character. One I created."

"So they tell me," Ulrich mutters. "You're the Creator."

"Well, um, yes... in a manner of speaking... though that's sounding vaguely blasphemous. The Sisters Of Little Or No Mercy wouldn't appreciate the comparison. I'm your Author. You're a figment of my imagination, Lars."


"And do you always subject your creations to being tortured by the presence of despicable stupid idiots?" Lars demands.

"You mean the entertainment reporters?"

"Yes! They keep mistaking me for that drummer from Metallica! I mean, come on! He's ugly, and a whole lot older. How old I can't tell, because years of booze and hard living can take their toll. My point is, how stupid can these reporters be to keep thinking I'm him when I'm not?"

"I know, I know, they're pesky, Lars... can I call you Lars? Listen, how about you let me go and we talk this over like civilized people?" Ulrich finally lets Kendall go. "Look, in my defense, when I first created you in your earliest version, I was just looking for a vaguely German sounding name. Lars and Ulrich sounded good together. I had no idea about the guy from Metallica, Lars, seriously. I mean, that's not my kind of music. It's so loud and hostile. So I could have cared less about the names of the band. And then someone told me that Lars Ulrich was the drummer. So ever since I played around with it when I'd write about you."

Ulrich shakes his head. "You put them in my way all the time."

"True, but don't you enjoy the chance to beat them up?"

"Well, yes, but that's beside the point..."


"Look, it's all part of the plan, Lars. Think long term. Would it help if I said you've got a lot of fans out here in the real world?"

Ulrich looks around. "Really?"

"Yes, really. See, over there's Norma. And there's Shelly, and Eve, and Deb, and Krisztina... come to think of it, a lot of them are women. They like your attitude, Lars. They like the no nonsense take no prisoners kick ass and take names thing you do. Even the anonymous lurkers who never leave comments. Wave to everyone, Lars."

Ulrich shakes his head. "Are you drunk?"

"Um, no, not that I know of. If I were, I might tell you of the alternate theory that here in my world, it's not the real world either, that none of this is actually happening and there's another Fourth Wall over there where I'm simply the figment of someone else's imagination, but that might be getting too metaphysical and philosophical."


Ulrich rolls his eyes. "Okay, fine. So you say that I have to put up with the entertainment reporters."

"Yes, it keeps the readers amused."

"I can think of another option, Kendall," Ulrich says, grabbing Kendall by the throat, squeezing hard. "I can end your existence. Right here, right now. I can throw you through those windows to your death. Give me one reason why I shouldn't."

Kendall manages to gasp, "Yes, I have no doubt that you could, but I am your Creator. If you kill me, you destroy yourself."

Ulrich stares at him for a long moment, and lets go. "Damn it. I hate when you're right."

Kendall takes a moment to catch his breath and massage his sore throat. "Look, I really am sorry about the sending endless entertainment reporters after you, really, I truly am. I know it's made you cranky, but that grumpiness has won you a lot of fans. But look at what else I've done for you. You've solved big crimes, stood up to vile threats without fear, and hey, you've even saved the world! And seriously, in the long run, I've got plans for you. Big plans, and yes, you'll like them. Here. Let me whisper it to you."

"Why whisper?" Ulrich asks, confused.


"Well, I don't want to give anything away to them."

"The readers?"

"Exactly. It's called stringing them along, only letting them know what you want them to know and no more. It's a writer's perogative, you know." Kendall stands and whispers a few things to Ulrich, out of earshot of the readers. Ulrich nods a few times... and his eyes widen.

"You have got to be joking," Ulrich tells him.

"Deadly serious."

"Wow. I didn't realize..."

"Doesn't it just blow your mind?"

"That's one way to put it." Ulrich takes a deep breath. "Okay then. At least now I know this isn't just you torturing me for no reason. There's a purpose to it all. Thank you."

"Thank you. Aside from writing cat and dog blogs, you're my biggest source of readership. The fans love you, big guy."

"I'd better be getting back to the other side of the Fourth Wall."

"Yes, you've got things to do. I, on the other hand, have to bring this to a conclusion."

Ulrich looks curious. "How are you going to do that?"

Kendall shrugs. "The same way I always do. With a funny picture."