5
Helpful Review
To hell with you...
1997. You're about to meet the Devil (or Diavolo if you're meeting him in Spain) in order to sign a contract allowing you to wear his newly launched essence. Upon reaching the place where the ceremony is to take place, you realise it's a delapidated, musty mansion, not unlike the ones you believed exist only in old horror movies. You knock hesitantly on its huge ironclad door, thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. The person that "welcomes" you is Antonio Banderas, dressed like having just left the set of "Interview with the Vampire". The whole place reeks with some twisted kind of veneration mixed with fear and muffled screams. You're taken to its basement, where the Devil, sitting in an elaborate obsidian throne, greets you heartily and addresses you his anointed champion. He snaps his fingers and a wickedly ravishing Melanie Griffith enters the scene and handles you the bottle...
2016. You're about to meet the Devil anew. The contract has expired some 10 years ago and you, in your everlasting quest of unearthing thunderous beasts of yore, didn't think of renewing it till now. But since you stumbled on a box including a 100ml Eau de Toilette along with a 150ml body deodorant on your last weekly visit to the super market, you thought of requiring his permission to wear his essence again. All the more that it had a 50% discount. You shamble to the place where you first met the Devil, only to find it derelict and forlorn. A bored doorman gives you the Devil's new address. You enter a shiny high-end office building and you take the glass elevator to the penthouse. Antonio Banderas, dressed in a tuxedo, like he's about to walk the red carpet in the Academy Awards ceremony, welcomes you again. You're taken to a vast airy office, where the Devil is processing fiscal data in a hi-tech laptop. He greets you hastily, and before delving into the screen again, he hits the intercom and Melanie Griffith, all vapid and tired enters the scene and handles you the bottle...
How does transmogrification applies to a monster? What does a monster change into when it becomes a darling? Is "transmogrification" a viable word when we're talking about something lovely, albeit profanely wicked that has turned into a politically correct reverse sacrilege? Why do I have to become a verbal funambulist in order to express my disappointment for the current version of an once mighty handsome beast? Why Antonio? Why did you leave the leather so long exposed to the sun and forget the pepper jar open for years? Why?
Farewell Diavolo. You took way too seriously this "devil in disguise" stuff, to the point of becoming unrecognisable and bleary. Oh, and I guess you grew tired of being in the details for so long, thus you thought that becoming blatantly inept was the right thing to do in order to meet the "brave new world" standards...
2016. You're about to meet the Devil anew. The contract has expired some 10 years ago and you, in your everlasting quest of unearthing thunderous beasts of yore, didn't think of renewing it till now. But since you stumbled on a box including a 100ml Eau de Toilette along with a 150ml body deodorant on your last weekly visit to the super market, you thought of requiring his permission to wear his essence again. All the more that it had a 50% discount. You shamble to the place where you first met the Devil, only to find it derelict and forlorn. A bored doorman gives you the Devil's new address. You enter a shiny high-end office building and you take the glass elevator to the penthouse. Antonio Banderas, dressed in a tuxedo, like he's about to walk the red carpet in the Academy Awards ceremony, welcomes you again. You're taken to a vast airy office, where the Devil is processing fiscal data in a hi-tech laptop. He greets you hastily, and before delving into the screen again, he hits the intercom and Melanie Griffith, all vapid and tired enters the scene and handles you the bottle...
How does transmogrification applies to a monster? What does a monster change into when it becomes a darling? Is "transmogrification" a viable word when we're talking about something lovely, albeit profanely wicked that has turned into a politically correct reverse sacrilege? Why do I have to become a verbal funambulist in order to express my disappointment for the current version of an once mighty handsome beast? Why Antonio? Why did you leave the leather so long exposed to the sun and forget the pepper jar open for years? Why?
Farewell Diavolo. You took way too seriously this "devil in disguise" stuff, to the point of becoming unrecognisable and bleary. Oh, and I guess you grew tired of being in the details for so long, thus you thought that becoming blatantly inept was the right thing to do in order to meet the "brave new world" standards...
2 Comments
GothicHeart
