|Why are there so many dopes dressed as rainbows?|
*Oooh, look who went to college...
|"Suitable" how, exactly?|
Any girlfriend who honestly loved and respected her significant other would probably have said, at this point, something sensible and affectionate like "Jim, darling, are you still taking your medication" or "You're drunk and I don't know you, get out of my house." Instead, Elsie employs reverse psychology in order to see her beau murdered on the street like a slow hobo on Purge night. "But you've got to have a costume, " she suggests, before cutting him off at the knees by adding "And you've got to be a he-man." Ooh, Jim, savage burn.
Rather than licking his wounded ego, huge moron Jim Travis goes home and dresses himself up like a Crayola box that's just joined Cirque du Soleil. His rooftop patrol of the city bears almost immediate fruit, but probably only because cities are gross dens of crime where everyone ends up dead in an alley.
|"-- well, we don't know, but we're sure it'll be somewhere!"|
Rainbow confronts Black Rufus in an intentionally darkened scene, rendering his colorful costume thankfully muted. What isn't muted, however, is Jim's limitless attempts at good tough guy lines. He introduces himself with a solid right hook (a good start) and adds "I'm the guy who serves out pots of gold -- The Rainbow!" (ooh, terrible finish). Jim? Leprechauns hand out pots of gold. Rainbows just promise that God won't drown us anymore. Try to incorporate that into the patter.
Rainbow clocks the holy hell out of Black Rufus and leaves him dangling off a cliff. But really, the true victor here is .. uh, Jim, I guess? All I know is Elsie is probably eating serious amounts of crow somewhere, and wondering what other dumb impulses she can convince her boyfriend to follow.
|Yeah, graceful as a fucking eagle, that guy.|