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Diana in the Dark Chapter 11 ‘Dark Lines’

Hello again,

Don’t really have much to update from yesterday so brevity is the brother of victory or some other such quote I just made up. Still trucking along with editing this beauty, with the help of the wonderful Chrissy Szarek, my polish friend told me her name is pronounced ‘Sharek’. Makes her sound like some kind of bond villain but she’s a nice lady, a published indie author and a great, prompt and reasonably priced editor.

This is my official recommendation of her, if you just type her name into facebook I’m sure you’ll find her and her work and you’ll be glad you did. It’s been a very pleasant and easy process working with and she’s very hands on and attentive. My last editor I literally had to email them three times each time ramping up the passive aggression before they’d even respond, with Chrissy it’s literally the other way around but without the passive aggression haha. I haven’t had to chase her up once, she’s constantly emailing me with updates on her progress, it’s really a refreshing change and she’s been really good with flexibility in terms of payment processes.

So that’s going on and speaking of my last editor, I’ll still be working through The One That Came Back today, hopefully in time for the folks on my mailing list, but I won’t send it out until I’m 100% happy with it. I’m not even going to give away something I think is a pile of shit haha. But I’m sure if anyone is looking forward to getting it by now they have the patience of a saint haha.

Ok so that’s about the skinny of it, off to editing and spamming I go.

See you…

Of course if you want to read the previous chapters head on over to inkitt where they’re all neatly collated.

Diana in the Dark

~

I guess locking doors was for poor people who weren’t literally encircled by a small army of trigger happy ex-cops. I knew because she was out prepping for the prom she wouldn’t be here. I also knew she had a brother but he was rarely home in the day, myths of an expensive heroine habit abound. So I was guessing he’d stumble home much later if at all. The house should be empty possibly but for an annoying little yappy dog she was banned from taking into school in her purse. Hopefully since the prom wasn’t at school that meant she’d probably have the annoying little rat with her. And I wouldn’t be tempted to pulp its head into an eight hundred dollar Persian rug.

I did say I loved animals but not that particular one.

I took a quick precautionairy glance across the street but thankfully aside from a team of illegals gardening two houses over they were quiet. I guessed everyone was out living the good life, lounging around a golf course or a yacht or something.

When I was sure no one was looking I slipped into the house and closed the door firmly behind me. As I stood in the cool sweet smelling entryway I felt ok. I was just a pretty rich white girl coming home from yogalates, walking into her own home no big deal. Nobody could call the cops over that. It’s not like I used a grappling hook and scaled the wall garden.

The interior was fresh and clean, cream interior walls with off white, I guess eggshell tiles on the floor. A stair case carpeted in a darker cream snaking off from the oddly angled front door up to the bedrooms on the right as you entered. A big curtain-less window at the turn of the stairs letting in lots of light. I stopped in the entryway and just listened to the steady creak of silence. When I was sure the house was empty I let go of my breath and began to pad the tiles and dust off this new set of leathery predator wings.

The entryway opened up into a huge but very minimalist carpeted living room which seemed to take up a whole corner of the house. It was very eighties deco, devoid of colour with a high ceiling that spanned both floors cut off by a balcony onto the second floor. A door off to the left lead into a relatively small galley kitchen which was nevertheless very nice.

But needless to say I wasn’t here for the tour. I doubled back to the front door and started a slow ascent up the stairs. Looking outside the huge window at the turn hoping not to see some nosey old woman staring at me and memorizing my face for a sketch artist to reproduce.

I figured if I was going to find any evidence at all of her guilt it wouldn’t be lying between the pages of a copy of teen vogue on the coffee table. “Hey remember when I poisoned my dad and framed my mom for the money lol smiley face smile face xoxox”. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities but it seemed unlikely. But who knows. She wasn’t like me, not the same kind of monster, a normal killer for a normal reason, a sane reason to do something insane, money was the root of all this. So there was a chance she wasn’t like me at all, there was a chance she had emotions. One of those possibly being guilt and if that was true she would leave some trace of it behind.

I figured my best bet was finding her computer and working a little slack hack magic on it, basically shake it and see what fell out.

I turned the corner checking the window but it was just the bare windowless face of the neighbouring house staring back at me. I continued on up the second flight noting an open bathroom off the stairs, seemed an odd place to put a bathroom but ok.

The second floor split off in two directions leading to the bedrooms. As far as I could remember her bedroom was off to the left and her parents ensuite was off to the right. But considering her parents weren’t in the picture anymore it made little sense to not occupy the empty ensuite. It’s what I would do, you’d have to be crazy to let all that closet space go to waste because of what? Sentimentality? Ghosts maybe?

I padded the carpeted floor delicately, hoping my light frame wouldn’t leave any telling footprints. Thankfully I’d remembered to not wear heels and opted for a set of flat tread-less pumps.

Taking the right looking over the second floor balcony down at the living room and the large windows. It seemed like an average sleepy day in this neighbourhood, not a curious dog walker in sight. Just sun shining and birds chirping. Oh how I longed for the huge savage moon and that black canvas of night to paint red, ‘soon’ it hissed and I knew it was right. Soon I’d have my starry night and my bloody moon.

Really there was no rush, I’d started as early as I could. Depending on the schedule they’d be at the preparations until late into the afternoon. Factoring in frappachino and pastelito breaks, maybe some California tuna rolls, suddenly realising skipping breakfast was a mistake. New rule; never break and enter on an empty stomach.

The hallway got a little narrower, I passed an airing cupboard and I could distinctly smell signs of a lived in nature. More specifically Wendy’s perfume, it seemed my estimation of her and our shared desire for closet space was on point.

I opened the door and was sort of surprised that the room was so small then I turned my head and realised that I’d stepped into her closet, oh.

I opened the door to her actual room and was instantly taken aback.

It was so… so-

Neat.

Horrifying, truly horrifying.

I knew she was sort of anal and a bit of a control freak. But beside from the smell and the obvious personal effects the room seemed like a movie set or a window onto a dolls house. The bed perfectly made, almost creaseless, like it had been ironed, big and fluffy with pillows that seemed to go on for days. Not a sock on the floor not a sagging poster, the walls were bare and smooth. No litter, not even a bin with litter in it. Her dresser was immaculate, the mirror looked like it was brand new and all her makeup was neatly arranged almost seemingly with a ruler.

It was for lack of a better word; ‘creepy’ even for me.

The room was large and the closet was basically a room on its own. It wasn’t even a walk in closet it was just a room the size of an average bedroom only a little smaller than my actual bedroom, turned into a closet filled to the brim with clothes and shelves full of shoes hanging over my head.

The room like all the others in the house was sort of an odd asymmetrical shape. The ensuite was on the right wall at something like forty five degree angle from the rest of the room. And of course it too was spotless and it seemed pointless rooting around for clues in there.

I was hoping her online activity was a little less neat.

Walking around the room with a spectral lightness of foot. I opened a few draws on her dresser until, oh you’ve got to be kidding me, could it really be that easy? I started to get a little nervous, first the door and now this. Her diary was lying right at the top of the first draw down. On top of a stack of neatly pressed pink panties that smelled like lavender and dollar store candy.

I picked it up carefully and thumbed through it, sadly it was putridly average. Vomit inducingly so, saccharine and pointless and banal. So much so I felt myself slipping into bored unconsciousness as I scanned it. I hardly expected to just stumble upon…”Dear diary today I was thinking about how I poisoned my dear papa for cash, oh how silly of me”.

I clapped the little purple book shut and put it back in the drawer just as I found it. Feeling slightly deflated, nothing, not a chuckle not a whisper from the darkness below, just dull ringing silence.

There has to be something, I looked about the room planning to save the laptop sitting on the desk by the window for last.

I had some time to soak the room in, it was pretty, like a little girls room honestly, lots of pastel colours and stuffed animals. It was a fairy princess room for a little latina fairy princess. Maybe I was jealous, there was a picture on her side table. The whole family, her mom and dad and their little princess in the middle with the toothy grin missing the two front teeth. She must have been around six or seven. Maybe I was jealous of her, she had everything I could only dream of, and to my estimation she’d tossed it down the dark well. Only to live a long and empty existence here in this castle alone. Or that’s what I assumed. I found myself staring into the black gap of her tooth and hearing some building scratching in the dark back seat. I flipped the picture over and there was a small pieces of paper hidden in the frame. They wouldn’t have even been noticeable if there weren’t so many of them.

Check stubs, made out to Denny Vargas, Her brother, the amounts seemed to fluctuate, growing larger by increment. My guess was because of his little habit Wendy was put in charge of the estate and was dolling him out an allowance. Hmm. A small tick coming from the dark well, a drip.

Was it blackmail I was smelling, was I in some noir mystery? Still not nearly enough, no telling the amount of scandals a girl her age with her money could get into besides murdering her father. A tiny blip on the dark radar.

Ok time to skip to the good bit.

I strode across the room starting to feel a little rushed. I needed to find something good enough to justify a house invasion at the very least or I would feel very silly. And would have to reconsider a great many things about myself.

I sat at a white wicker chair she had at her clear desk, her laptop positioned perfectly central to the desks edges. I opened it and let it boot up, it was password locked but it wasn’t too hard to crack. Went through her parents’ names, her birthday, ‘Smoochie’ the name of her annoying little dog, of course it was the same as her password at school, let no one accuse her of being an original thinker.

I was in, no notes on the desktop, no elaborate confessions or future suicide notes stored away for good measure and her wallpaper was a pink glass slipper with pink fluffy trim.

I opened up a browser and started looking into her history. I wasn’t expecting to find much on the surface, after all, this all transpired what, a year ago, maybe two. So I wouldn’t even expect this to be the same laptop let alone that she didn’t delete all her search history. But considering how neat her room was I expected she was the kind of person who took care of her toys. So there was a chance this was the same computer she used back then, or at the very least it was backed up with files from her previous computer.

Despite the fact she probably deleted her search history, it’s never really gone, nothing deleted ever truly stays deleted. It’s always there in some form or another, waiting for some clever little nerd to pick up and dust off.

It didn’t take too long because I had a rough idea of what I was looking for, key words; ‘poison’, ‘murder’, ‘getting away with murder’. Ethylene glycol, that was anti-freeze to the uninitiated. A perfect household poison, colourless and odourless and with a sweet taste that allowed it to be ingested rather easily. But resulted in a slow painful death after consuming very little. When broken down in the blood stream it was almost impossible to detect unless you knew exactly what you were looking for. And most hospitals didn’t even have the facilities to test for ethelyne glycol. According to Wikipedia.

A dull humming laughter sent ripples through the dark water. A suspenseful breathing from the dark watcher, it was enough, more than enough for him. But this was nowhere near enough for Brodsky. I’d need something hard, some proof he couldn’t deny.

Bending a knee I probed under the bed, the wide window giving me ample light to see all the nothing underneath. No dust or cobwebs or bloodied baseball bats to be found. I took a closer look and ran my fingers underneath the frame of the big white bed. My fingers coming to rest on something that felt jagged and creased and out of place. Stuffed between the mattress and the frame of the bed were what appeared to be wads of paper. As I pulled them out I saw them to be what they were, opened lettered with a women’s central jail postmark. They were from her now convict mother, no doubt she was still awaiting arraignment before sentencing. The wheels of justice turn so slowly here in this laid back state. It was not uncommon for someone to be warehoused in a jail awaiting trial for years at a time.

They were carefully opened but not so carefully pressed under the mattress so I didn’t see the need to put on gloves and a hazmat suit.

I just opened them and eased the paper out of the first letter and allowed it to unfold. The first letter was fairly average, talking about her trial sprinkled with general niceties, ‘how do you dos’, stuff normal people say. No damning Shakespearean pros or accusations, no hamlet uttered at all but as I scanned on I noticed some parts were for lack of a better word ‘Redacted’. That is some parts were scribbled over with a black marker. Not unlike you would with a yellow marker if you highlighting a portion of text but instead they were blotted out. Conjuring a wry chuckle from the dark watcher.

The letters seemed to be kept in the order they were received. As I got further along the lettered got a little juicier a little more frantic and raw needing a lot more redacting. Whole paragraphs were taken out of this to a point where I wondered why even keep them at all?

I really doubted these were admissible in court since I assumed prisons read the letters of inmates coming and going.

Some terminal sentimentality I could never understand. Some piece of the puzzle I thankfully lacked.

There were small portions that had been drying out for so long I could read in the light, “I understand, he was…” The letter was written in an odd way too. It didn’t seem like a mother writing to a daughter it felt more like a student writing to a teacher. It was laced with a manic devotion, an obsessive maternal bond. I felt like I was reading a fan letter to the night stalker. “I love you, I’ll do anything to protect you-anything”.

A flutter, a swift uplift of dark wings and I knew it was satisfied a while ago but this might be enough for Brodsky. Scribbling out a sentence with a black marker I was sure was not enough to hide the truth. Some lab geek with a laminate at Brodsky’s behest in Washington undoubtedly could cast some sort of forensic wizardry on it. And that would be the tip of the iceberg of circumstantial evidence to sink Wendy. Although how well it would hold up in court would be anyone’s guess and I would assume Wendy wouldn’t go down without a fight.

She’d hire the best lawyers available and she’d probably beat it.

None of this would hold up in court of course, but there was a totally different court we were arranging for Wendy with a very different type of judge and the sentences were a lot more creative to say the least.

The last letter was thicker and although I thought I would have enough I could see no harm in probing further.

I gently removed the letter and tipped the rest the content of the envelope onto the soft carpeted floor. A few pictures came tumbling out, little passport photos of them together as a family when she was a baby, cute couple. There were a few more shots of her as a baby forming a little pile on the cream carpet.

I gave a dry breathy chuckle as I saw the letter was merely one page of entirely blacked out letters. Maybe I should buy her a shredder for her birthday.

There was a standard high gloss photo of Wendy in a diamond tiara at her sweet sixteen, her hair done up like a princess. I was pretty sure I went to that. I remember wearing some hand-me-down dress that looked like a black vacuum bag. She had a professional photographer take our pictures like this in front of a painted screen made up to look like a tropical sunset. It wasn’t too dissimilar to the one that would be at the prom.

I turned the picture over and there was no secret esoteric message written on the back with blood just a regular photo.

There was another from that day but it was a little different. It was her in her brother’s lap but there was something strange about it, something in the way she was smiling. His faced was turned into her neck with his arms around her waist and hers around his head. There was just something off about it, her eyes shut like that, her smile not of happiness but of almost. I wanted to say ‘shame’ or something like that, she looked almost like she was being tickled and she liked it, a little too much. But not being an expert on human emotions I didn’t put too much stock in my evaluation. But it garnered some attention from the dark backseat, some probing question, some lingering intrigue. A dark smirk projected onto the inside of my skull.

I idly flipped it over like the picture before, not sure what I was expecting but it seemed vital in the moment and I wasn’t disappointed. I froze, spittle welling up in my mouth and I suddenly felt very small and very thirsty, my heart tightening with a vice grip in my chest. Written on the back in pencil were the words ‘DO YOU SEE?’

I had no time to think how he knew or how he got in here but I knew it wasn’t a coincidence.

A car horn outside, shit. Calm down Diana, this isn’t some shitty rear window knock off. She isn’t coming home in the middle of your little fishing expedition. She isn’t putting her key in the lock and she isn’t talking loudly in the hall on her cell phone. Or loudly walking up the stairs as we speak and I’m definitely not frantically stuffing the letters back under the bed and hiding there myself.

This was not how I expected today to go.

She came in and sat on the bed and I could do nothing but admire the excellent spring retention, you really get what you pay for. I guess guilty consciences are no match for space age mattresses.

She was talking on her cell phone, to whom I couldn’t fathom as I was desperately trying to remember if I’d left anything out of place in her room. I was sure I closed the computer, I put the check stubs back. I hoped.

I mean, I guess I could have played this off “Oh hey this isn’t my house, my bad”. But that was really a longshot. And I was already in the doghouse for missing the set up, I didn’t really want to add breaking and entering to that list of friendship testing events.

She didn’t seem too pre-occupied with searching her room. She was having what could have been described as a ‘heated discussion’ with someone on her cell phone. The doubt came from the fact she was talking in fast fire Cuban which was like Spanish which remember I suck at but working against an imaginary clock. It was pretty much completely beyond me.

So it was hard to tell if she was actually anxious or was having a perfectly normal conversation about sandwiches. It was only when she broke into a few sentences of rushed English that I picked up the reason she was home.

“I got another one”

“Another what?” The small voice on the other end said. I could barely make it out over the sound of her breathing, evidently speaking Cuban didn’t allow for breathing pauses.

“Another one of those fucking notes, someone knows Denny, someone fucking knows!” She said in a harsh whisper.

“You’re talking crazy” Denny said.

“I got one in my locker the other day and now I found one in Smoochie’s basket, someone knows and I have no idea what to do” She sounded frantic and teary eyed.

“Ok calm down, I’ll come over in a day or two and we’ll figure something out. If someone does know they would have gone to cops, this is just straight up blackmail, we can make that go away.”

How would they make me go away I wondered. He was so sure he could. Almost like he’d done it before. But then something stuck out at me.

I didn’t write a second note.

And I certainly didn’t put it in her dog basket while prepping for the prom since I was here. And as far as I know didn’t have a clone and thus could not be in two places at once.

I had been very busy but not that busy. I left the first note just to gauge her response, see a flicker of something certain and deadly behind those eyes, some glimmer of guilt and fear. I wanted her to see the slowly descending guillotine, just for a split second, just enough to know she did but so little that she could tell herself she didn’t. But that was all, I had what I needed, a second note would just be more of the same. Psychological torture sending her into this messy flurry of emotions and planning and readying. I wanted to nudge her not send her over the edge like this.

So then who sent the second note and why?

I had a rough idea but it seemed petty and silly and childish almost like a deadly prank. Someone wanted to see her rushing around like a headless chicken for their amusement. They wound her up like a toy and sent her reeling at me. It didn’t seem like something a cold blooded killer would do. Someone circling, waiting for the right time to strike making me feel like he was god’s hand. Everywhere, always watching, knowing my every move before I made it. Knowing that at any moment he could reach down and snuff me out.

It felt almost like a game.

Bright review (Medium level savagery)

Ok well while I try to stay active between working myself to death and recovering over the christmas period and getting ready for my trip I watched Bright on christmas day and it was alright.

Err ok well I wouldn’t even be writing this if I didn’t want to tear it apart and of course I do. I only really write about a movie if it does something so horrible it has to be recorded. Although we did watch Krampus after that and that was actually a great all round christmas movie. It looked great and was a lot of fun and had a hauntingly nice semi-happy ending. I thought it was the best movie I watched over christmas. For reference me and family, all we do over christmas is eat and drink starting as soon as we get up and watch movies christmassy or otherwise.

This year we watched Justice league (yawn), the snowman (we turned it off not even halfway through) Paddington 2 (through the magic of piracy) and Bright.

Now straight out of the gate I’m a semi-fan of Max Landis and David Ayer, that meaning I’ve enjoyed movies they’ve both done individually before. And I think I went over this in my suicide squad review, Ayer makes these tight tense little thrillers that really work and when he tries something big like with suicide squad it just gets away from him and blows up in his face.

But with Bright I thought because he wasn’t writing and directing it might be a little better, a little less scattered and since it wasn’t this huge cast of characters the narrative would have been less all over the place.

Honestly, I went into this movie ready to love it and right away I really did based on Will Smith alone really, he really carries this movie just by being Will Smith, I don’t know how else to put it. He’s just one of those guys who basically plays himself and that works and when he doesn’t a la suicide squad and after earth it kind of goes wrong.

For those unfamiliar with the plot, it’s basically lord of the rings two thousand years later. So it’s like a world where their creation myths are straight out of tolkien. So it’s modern day with faeries and elves and orcs and wizards. It’s basically end of watch meets the shire.

I honestly loved the premise, the characters were fun and funny, the action was great the world building was ok, there wasn’t really much of a story but what movie does these days?

Now for the criticism; first out the door, the racial narrative is kind of dumb honestly, I mean I like that it wasn’t too much in your face but orcs are black people I guess, but Will Smith is a black guy and there are hispanic gang members in it and centaurs that never show up and elves are basically your rich wasps/I dunno magic assassins I guess.

Other than that it’s handled ok, the problem really is with the world in general, it sets up this great big fantasy sandbox for them to play in but it doesn’t do anything with it really. You see a dragon flying over l.a and you never see it again. The whole movie is talking about the ‘dark lord’ and *spoilers* he never shows up, instead it reverts back to the standard buddy cop narrative of saving your partner from a burning building.

It just doesn’t really go anywhere or really take any risks. The reason end of watch and training day and harsh times are such gripping movies is because you realise the main character could and probably would die at the end or it could happen at any moment. But I never got that sense from this movie I knew exactly what was going to happen at the end. And if you didn’t well just fuck you haha. I mean it couldn’t be more obvious, an idiot M.Night Shymalan fan could have worked it out.

But I remember watching it and really enjoying it for the action and the one liners and Will Smith returning to his funny action stick, that was a lot of fun and I really liked the villains until I realised they were the only villains.

Because this whole time I’m watching these bad ass assassin elves tearing shit up like equilibrium or a pointy eared neo and I thought they were really cool but in the back of my mind I thought these were like enforcer villains building up to the dark lord…. who never shows up. So these villains were great as what I thought were just place holders, so I judged them as like mid level villains but then when I realised they were it and they were killed pretty easily I was like ‘Oh’.

It was just dissapointing, it builds up this great world and does all this forshadowing with Smith holding a sword and I was thinking, Will Smith is going to be sword fighting the dark lord by the end of this movie with a dragon and it’s going to be dope af but it just never happens , it just sort of fizzles out.

It has all this potentional it wasted. Basically I saw Ayer wanting to challenge himself but he didn’t rise to the challenge he just took his boiler plate movie template and added faerie tale shit. And all the time it lacks any tension because beat for beat it’s attempting to be a blockbuster and have sequels so I’m fully aware none of the main characters are allowed to die.

So all in all it was just this toothless mess of a fun movie.

After all that I would recommend this movie if you’re a Will Smith or Ayer fan and I probably will watch the sequel if and when it comes out to see if they can build on the world and actually have something interesting happen.

Seriously, why not just have the dark lord show up and kick their ass and escape. You get your ‘realistic’ ending and set it up for a sequel while having the pay off. The movie doesn’t even seem aware it blue balled us not having the dark lord show up in any form, it just ends like ‘Welp that was fun guys thanks for all that money’.

I heard there’s a sequel in the works but I don’t see why it should get one when we still haven’t gotten one for Dredd despite it holding a 78% on rotten tomatoes and this film only got a 30% but the audience seems to like it I guess, lord of the rings for people who wear their sunglasses on the back of their heads is pretty popular haha.

It’s kind of a silly tone deaf movie but it’s a fun ride, what more can you ask for these days honestly?

See you…

The Ghost Of You By Krystle Byrd – Review

The picture from ghost dad is completely unrelated to this story about a ghost who is not a dad falling in love with someone who is also not a ghost. Why the fuck not, when’s the last time you saw ghostdad? Go watch that. Ok now getting to the review.

This sort of premise has been done to do death, no pun intended. But that’s no reason not to do it again and try to do a twist on the previous stories. Most stories don’t have to be original nor are they when dissected. They just take something old and tired and breath new life into them. Which is what I think you’ve done here to an extent.
To be honest, this isn’t my cup of tea, I’m really petty so you put me off in the first paragraph when the main character says ‘literally’ when they mean ‘figuratively’. Just a forced reaction from me to cringe really hard at that, I can’t help it haha. Little things like that really set me off, like the characters name ‘Kai’ just makes me cringe every time I hear it.
Don’t get me wrong It’s well written, there were very mistakes that I saw when reading it but some of the dialogue is a little cringey in my opinion, but I’m not everyone and I don’t read romance novels, I’m not the demogrpahic this is aimed at probably the exact opposite. So for that exact reason I cut it a lot of slack.
All I can say is I didn’t hate it, and honestly that is the highest praise you can get from someone like me, a person that would rather glue golfballs to his eyes than read romance novels.

No but seriously, this is good solid work and you should be proud of it and keep it up.

If you wanna go check the story out for yourself you can find the link below.

Ghost of You

Constantine Season 1 Review

This is sort of a long time coming and probably one of a million reviews of this since it’s been out for maybe more than a year now. I don’t know, but I’m not the kind of person to see some new thing and just band wagon jump. I sort of just watch and wait and stew and then eventually when no one is looking I’ll skulk in and watch it. Surprisingly I actually overall thought this was ok, it was watchable. It wasn’t as terrible as I surmised it to be. I think it had some potential, so it’s sort of a shame it was cancelled but admittedly it deserved it.

The casting was ok for the most part, the guy they got to play Constanstine was ok, he looked the part but his accent was all over the place. I mean what the fuck was that? I think he was sort of a bad actor too, I mean it’s usually good when you can tell an actor is enjoying the role he’s playing. It usually adds something like with the awesome portrayal of Negan by Jeffrey Dean Morgan, adding another layer to an actually pretty bland character in the comic. In the comic, I actually prefer the governor, Negan is a little silly in my opinion. But here the actor playing Constantine seems to have a boner for Constantine and it just comes off as an annoying smugness, he’s enjoying this too much, he’s having more fun than the audience.

The rest of the casting is lame, making Chaz an american was lazy and as usual the female character is only really there to drive the plot for reasons and has no real personality that isn’t just super daddy issues. The guy from lost playing the angel was genric.

Richie was good but considering he’s in like one comic that’s not an amazing addition. There wasn’t much I recognised from the comics except one episode about a hunger demon which was actually ok. But the rest of the plot is just generic Supernatural rip off freak of the week bullshit. Just some intern googling ‘Supernatural shit’ and trying to spin it into an hour long episode by mashing in storyline from murder she wrote. Just lazy writing 101. Something I forgave supernatural for because I liked the characters and there was overarching plot sprinkled in which is not the case for Constantine.

I mean I love Constantine, the one from the comics, which is not this twat. Don’t get me wrong my problem was Constantine in the show is not nearly cunty enough. This Constantine actually looks for cases to solve and stuff to do and help people, the one from the comic just stumbles into shit on happenstance and solves the problems usually out of his own curiosity or to save his own ass. It just feels like they’re trying to square-peg a round hole, turning an anti-hero into a hero because of ‘plot’.

Oh and did I mention over-arching plot, quick tip to the writers of Constantine; mentioning you have an over-arching plot every episode does not mean you have an over-arching plot. In the same way pointing at yourself and screaming you’re a pelican doesn’t make it so.

To have an overarching plot you actually need to have events that link to eachother and become a story, a mystery slowly unravelling, not just a bunch of unconnected shit you artificially connect with the code phrase ‘Coming darkness’ or ‘Rising darkness’ or whatever the fuck it was. It’s lazy and just bad and you should feel bad.

Essentially the problem here might not be the acting or the writing but the structure of the story telling. They’re trying to fit this huge collection of stories into this cookie cutter format that’s been done to death and a lot better. It’s the same thing in my Lucifer review, it uses a cookie cutter ‘Oh look a random event has occured now lets use my gimmick to solve it’ like how the mentalist is a fake psychic or how Monk has asbergers or whatever, the difference is those shows have likeable characters you give a shit about and an over-arching plot that actually exists and is worth munching obvious filler bullshit to see.

So overall, it needed to be cancelled as I think most comic book tv shows do because it’s just hacky pandering crap most of the time with lashings of useless filler. But it’s sad because it wasn’t all that bad, it was watchable and didn’t butcher the source material (unlike Preacher) and maybe it could have done better given another season. But I guess the character and the comic was a bit too niche for modern audiences drunk on walking dead and super hero bullshit who were already tired of ten plus fucking seasons of supernatural to watch another one without Sam and Dean.

I think it had the spark of something but it failed to make it off the ground, stick to writing COD games Goyer.

Preacher Season 1 review

Long story short; It fucking sucked.

I’m a big fan of the comic, in fact I think it’s one of the first Garth Ennis comics I’ve ever read and it inspired me to read The Boys and his Punisher Max run as well as his Hellblazer run which was great. As well as of course influencing my own writing greatly. The man is a comic legend, he goes a little too far sometimes or not far enough and he’s copied by wankers the world over but no one can do it quite like him.

That being said Preacher is probably his magnum opus, a perfect distillation of his wit and particular brand of filth and blasphemy, creating a story that is so ridiculous but well-formed and coherent it begs belief that it isn’t being burned at this minute by some left-wing feminist with pink hair. Purely because she hasn’t read it because she can’t read anything that isn’t written in period blood or is specifically about vaginas.

Preacher is probably one of my favourite comics of all time, I won’t say it’s my favourite because it’s kind of pretentious but it’s up there. The story is great, it constantly keeps you guessing, it’s funny and action packed and the characters are fantastic each with their own well developed back stories and personalities. It’s hard to express how great this comic is, I mean some of the plotlines are fucking daffy but it feels so well put together and well told that it really felt real, the characters were silly but their struggles felt real and that’s what good story telling is supposed to do. Make you forget despite the ridiculousness of the situation that you’re in a story.

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But the tv show is a fucking mess. My first gripe is with the casting, Dominic whatever his face is a pathetic baby faced Jessie Custer, I don’t buy him for a second as a badass chain smoking preacher, not for a second, his head is the size of an Oreo and is just too squishy and round looking. Tulip, who cares about Tulip, she’s got to be the most throwaway character in that comic, I don’t care that they made her black but they somehow managed to make her more annoying in the show than the comic, but needless to say she’s the worst character in the series. She just never had any depth for me other than being his girlfriend, she never really has any struggle that isn’t shared, any story or character of her own. Just a generic badass female cardboard cut-out that does nothing but whine about everything and was never believable even in the comic and is now even more cartoony in the show.

My favourite character Herr Starr, the strap-on loving bald German weirdo isn’t even in it, I guess they’re saving him for I dunno maybe season four when the actual story starts.

Ok so the Cassidy casting is ok, he’s a good actor, he’s been in some stuff before, he’s fun and funny and likeable but he shows up and what is he doing? Fuck all. The entire first season is filler, unabashed, unashamed filler. Nothing happens, nothing from the main plot of the comic happens in the first season. And yes, I’m not counting the story of the Saint of killers that they took ten episodes to tell, because that was a one shot spin off about his backstory, it wasn’t part of the whole series.

So, the only part of the first season that actually happens in the comics is from a one shot that isn’t in the actual comic.

You have this massive sixty issue comic to borrow any of the number of plotlines but decide to just finger your asshole for ten episodes while Jessie tries to save some shithole Texas town for what purpose? It’s just the plot and the rationale for each character is just so fucking thin. Why is Cassidy there? What he just shows up and they become mates instantly, boom he’s there in the church for good.

Tulip shows up because she found someone from her past that fucked them both over and wants him to come help her get him and then later decides just to go get him without him anyway so it was pointless.

The whole first season is just wasting time, like one big trailer, nothing happens, the whole first season is a bunch of idiots flailing around pretending they’re following a plot when really nothing is happening.

Did the writers even read the comics or did they make up the whole story looking at covers and reading the blurbs on the back?

“Err angels, god powers, vampires, got it.”

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(Just found this online, fuck he would have been perfect to play Jessie, if he wasn’t, you know, starring in a show that didn’t suck haha).

Also AMC is probably the worst network for it to be on, what you can have a vampire dismantle a person with a chainsaw but he can’t so ‘fuck’ or actually fuck anyone or see any tits… in Preacher, in a Garth Ennis comic. GARTH FUCKING EXPLODING DILDO ENNIS!
It’s a joke, this is probably the rudest and crudest comic ever created, there were actually characters called ‘sexual investigators’ who’s whole job was just buggering random people, I’m not even kidding. The main villain is obsessed with getting hookers to peg him with his head in the toilet. How can this ever work on AMC?

It’s a fucking insult to the fans in my opinion and I’m amazed this pile of mediocre shit is doing so well when shows like Constantine, which were flawed sure but still had a lot of the comics in it while creating an original plot line (Maybe it was from a plotline further on, I haven’t read the more recent Hellblazer comics) got the axe. I mean Constantine was a little cheesy but the casting was on point and I think given a second season it could have done better or bombed itself into extinction, but it deserved a second chance, this pile of shit is wagging it’s dick in your face and laughing and people who aren’t fans of the show have no idea they’re being fucked.

I really have nothing much to say about it, ten episodes and nothing really happens, nothing progresses the plot, it’s just a bunch of stuff happening with interlaced snippets of the saint of killers one shot storyline, which was the only good parts. The rest is just adlibbed nonsense non-story plucked out of some Hollywood execs ass.

I mean he must use his god powers like once an episode if that and he never really does anything cool with them like telling Arseface’s dad to go fuck himself quite literally. I mean I’m sitting here with this whole comic in my laps and this show doesn’t have the balls to even have him leave his crappy church until the end of the season. So, in the timeline of the comic the first season is basically the first issue of the comic with the saint of killers one shot stretched over ten hours. That’s what a fucking joke this show is. I mean this is worse than the walking dead making a whole season about the farm they spend like ten minutes at in the comic. I mean that was boring but it was consistent and there was some action/romance/struggle/bullshit.

Preacher as a tv show in my opinion has literally nothing going for it, it’s a lot of style over substance and compared to the comic it’s an unfunny joke.

I’m pissed, I wasted ten hours waiting for this to get good and it wasn’t even so bad it was good, it was just lame. On a brighter note, I watched Lucifer season one and I really enjoyed it so I might do a review on that. Or maybe not since I appear to prefer bitching than talking about stuff I like ha-ha.
Long story short, this isn’t Preacher, I don’t know what it is, but stop it.

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Well anyway, rant over.

Peace out.

Have a good Christmas!

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