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Tall Tales.

After completing J-horror week, Graeme realised he was now going to have to return to a land he was desperately trying to get away from; the multiplex.

His new mission was to review part 2 of a series which really should have ended back in November. Yet, here it was, promotional poster making it look like the cross between a brand of sauce and a new member of the Beckham clan.

Fearing what he would find once he entered, Graeme approached screen 9 with apprehension. Hp7 part 2 awaited him on the other side of these doors, along with comfy seats and atmospheric lighting effects which would lull him into a false sense of security, perhaps even preparing him for reluctant unexpected enjoyment of the forthcoming event.

He clutched his black-rimmed shades. He had come this far and was damned if he was to turn back now. Professional integrity would not allow such behaviour. The lights overhead were already sprouting sweat from his brow. To his right, a toilet entrance looked like an appealing if temporary escape route. Alongside it, the sightly less appealing disabled toilet, and further down he even spotted a cubicle for male usage through another well-lit gaping doorway.

But no. Try as he might, he could justify no reason for such utilisation of a premature get-out clause. A nature break at this early point in the evening was not an option. Bladder and bowels were empty, anchor having dropped less than an hour beforehand.

Realising that he was blocking the doorway during one of his regular reality pauses to contemplate philosophical questions in deep thought, Graeme came back to his war-torn senses.

He always did this. Delaying the inevitable with meaningful but nevertheless distracting modes of procrastination. The cycle would go on, but not on this night. On this night, he would stand and fight. Films would be watched. Overeager fans frowned at. Endings debated endlessly.

Graeme sucked it up. Then he coughed, as it became clear that he had sucked up more than air. Inside awaited over two hours of edited montages and character death/ revivals in a 3-dimensional swirl of pioneering predictability. It was now or…well, it was now, unless he wanted to come back tomorrow and pay full price again. Which he really didn’t.

So without hesitation, he confidently entered the vast movie theater already half full. The result was a review of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2.

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