Screaming Insects & Oatmeal
Hell has its own television network – and (gasp!) they need new prime time talent. Unfortunately, the Boys from Down Under have recruited a newly-wedded rock star’s bride for the position. (Dang, he didn’t even have sufficient time to feel her up).
The saddened hubby, a post-apocalyptic skater Goth punk who wears a headband, grabs his electric lyre (or “pocket harp”), hops a skateboard and goofy foots his way through the Netherworld in search of his kidnapped Goth biscuit. He eventually finds her, but she doesn’t want him anymore because she’s damned for all eternity (the measurement of time, not the over-priced perfume of the same name).
And what does he get for all his efforts? A chainsaw to the neck. But not before he blurts out the winning line: “I’ve dedicated my life to the sounds of metal insects screaming in a wall of oatmeal.” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt that same way.
Shredder Orpheus (1989), a pre-grunge twist on the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, was made and filmed in Seattle, were I’ve staked my claim since way before this obscure ditty came out. I wasn’t asked to be in it. Now everybody who was are can’t-walk-down-the-street famous, whereas I, to date, am not.