Whiteknight Apocalypse

The movie was only twelve minutes and thirty-one seconds in, so it wasn’t a big deal. The call could have waited. He wasn’t that important, but fuck it, right? So she sat in the middle of the theatre with the movie playing at full volume and yelled into the phone at a guy she had met earlier that day in a supermarket while browsing the laxatives section. “WELL OF COURSE I LOVE THE TASTE OF DICK. WHO DOESN’T, RIGHT?” she said into the phone.

“Um, excuse me,” said a voice behind her.

“YEAH, LIKE…ALL THE TIME.” she said into the phone.

“EXCUSE ME!” said the voice from behind her again. This time it was louder. She turned around with a look on her face that could have been mistaken for an inconvenient bowel movement. Words evaded her at this exact moment just like any sense of common decency had for most of her adult life. “I’m trying to watch this movie. Can you take that call outside?” he said.


“No, I just want to watch the movie. I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” he said.

“Well, you are. It’s kind of triggering. You motherfucker,” she said. Another guy got up from his seat and approached them. “Ma’am, is everything ok?” said guy number two.

“No, it’s not. This prick is trying to tell me what to do,” she said.

“Buddy, what’s wrong with you?” said guy number two.

“She’s talking on the phone!” said guy number one.

“That’s got nothing to do with you. You can’t just tell women what to do. It’s not 1950,” said guy number two.

“YEEEEEAH!!” she said like a retard. Both guys eyed each other off like two exotic, but flamboyant birds competing for the affections of the only female bird in their particular neck of the woods. “Apologise,” said guy number two.

“No. You apologise,” said guy number one.

“For what?”

“Assuming she can’t handle this herself. Women aren’t weak like you think. It’s not the 1950s,” said guy number one. Taken aback by the fact that his own logic had been used against him, guy number two pulled out his phone and took a photo of guy number one. Guy number one responded by doing the same and the girl just continued her phone conversation. “I’ll be taking this to the police,” said guy number two.

“Not if I get there before you. In fact, I’ll just email it to them,” said guy number one. The girl was still jabbering away, this time about a fungal infection she had on her feet and no one else in the audience had taken it upon themselves to tell these three dickheads to shut the fuck up. “Misogyny is taken very seriously in this state,” said guy number two.

“Well, you’re in a whole lot of trouble, pal. You’ve really stepped over the line today,” said guy number one. Out from the back corner of the cinema there was a movement of sorts. It was more like a presence than an actual person, but once the darkness had been peeled away and he moved into the light, guys number one and two took their attention off each other and looked at the mysterious figure that had come from the nether regions of the movie theatre. Dressed in black, he stepped forward and said, “She still won’t fuck you, but I hope she sees it, bro.”

“What? She’s right here. Of course she’s seen it,” said guy number two.

“She hasn’t seen shit,” said the mystery man and just before he vanished she caught a glimpse of him, dropped her phone and whispered something about him being hot. Guys number one and two just stood there staring at each other, wondering what the fuck had just happened.

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