Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Category 6 Survivor

I spent four agonizing hours watching the CBS two-part movie, Category 6. Not only did it depict the worst storm in the history of the Windy City, the movie was one of the worst in the history of television.

Perhaps the other person who watched it can tell me if there is going to be a sequel. The film maker, whoever it was, left a couple story lines open, The new guy taking over the National Weather Service -- a nerdy-looking bald guy characterized as being ultra-stupid -- hired the intern chick and asked Brian Dennehy, the old-timer National Weather Service boss, to stay on as a consultant. There seemed to be something going on there between Brian and the intern chick that could develop in a sequel.

The other story line, and I fully expected this to be resolved tonight, involved Randy Quaid playing Tommy the Storm Chaser. Yes, that's right. And they must have told Randy to play the part like the guy he played in the movie, Quick Change. Comic relief and craziness in the middle of the worst storm and worst movie in history.

Randy buckled his seatbelt and road his SUV up inside one of the 23 dozen tornadoes that decimated Chicago along with a fucking Canadian hurricane during the biggest blackout in history, which was caused by an antiquated power grid hacked by a disgruntled employee of the power company from his apartment with his Apple IIe computer and by a greedy newk-you-ler power company, which was running its 12 nuclear power plants in Chicagoland way above capacity and dumping boiling water into the Chicago River, killing all the fish, during the worst heat wave in Chi-town history. I need to leave Randy Quaid for a moment here as he was ride-em-cowboy, yippy-yi-ky-yaying his way up the funnel cloud, laughing and howling like a maniac, while his dog in the passenger seat was yakkin' up a bone.

The evil guy who ran the nuclear (NEW-klee-err) power company killing the environment and raping consumers by way over-charging the regular power company -- why, I don't know -- ended up getting blown up Bruce-Willis-Nakatomi-Plaza-style by a helicopter coming to pick him up, which couldn't be controlled in the gale force winds and blew up, sweeping him over the side of some skyscraper while burning up. If the flames didn't kill him, the fall would.

And then there were the two human interest stories. Maybe there were three, one involving the only black guy in Chicago, who helped rescue the pregnant woman, whose husband was flying the Air Force plane that was checking out the bad weather. Now, while freeing the pregnant chick, he broke his leg, but was not abandoned by the investigative reporter chick, for whom he was camera man. Well, yeah, that was part of the preggo woman stuck in the elevator story line; so, there were only two human interest stories, I guess.

Then there was the story of the teenaged blond chick, who was dating a juvenile delinquent, who she dumped and who, as a result of that dumping trauma, arm-robbed a bank in which he found the teen chick and her mom, who was married to the lying, cheating bastard in charge of the electric company, who was sleeping with the whore public relations director employed by the evil nuclear power company; and the teenaged blond chick tried to negotiate with her ex-boyfriend, who was holding 70 people hostage in the bank, which was automatically cut off from the rest of the world and the mall, in which it was located, when the electricity went out, by offering to sleep with him right there in the bank; but he shot her by mistake, trying to kill the security guard who wanted to get in on the action. Or that's the way it would have played out in the NaNoWriMo book version of the movie.

I don't want to give away the surprise ending with the bleeding-to-death, teenaged chick, whose hormonally-crazed, bad-boy ex-boyfriend was crushed when the mall glass ceiling blew down, but her lying, cheating dad drove through the fucking hurricane from Hell Canada and flying cars (Hey, there's no such thing as a flying car!) to the mall to pick up his daughter, pissed-off wife, and son, who wore his helmet as he rode his damn bike, dodging tornadoes, to find his mother and sister at the only shopping mall in Chicago. And he picked up the pregnant wife of the Air Force airplane pilot, who was in labor, but didn't sweat one bit, despite the fact that she was stuck in an elevator in an old building in 100-degree heat, after talking to the pilot on some top secret communications device that he somehow copped from the black guy. What the hell ... you're all on the edge of your seats -- here's the surprise ending.

The lying, cheating fucktard bastard drove to an abandoned airfield, McCormick Field, just outside of Chicago, where there were people walking around, to rendezvous with the Air Force plane, which landed at the airfield in the eye of the hurricane and took off with the girl and her family and the pregnant wife of the pilot. The pilot claimed on the secret communications device, when talking to the lying, cheating fucktard bastard, that there was a medic on board the plane. There wasn't. He flew to Area 51 to get medical treatment for the bleeding-to-death tennaged girl and have his baby delivered.

Oh, y'know, I mentioned that misguided dude who hacked the power grid. He tried to restore power by removing the computer virus he planted in the electric company's computer, but he spilled his coffee on his laptop and a huge blue lightning bolt shot right through his chest, electrocuting him. Clearly, he had no experience with electricity.

In any event, I'm wanting to know what happened to Randy Quaid, riding the wind in his red Dodge Durango. The film maker should have gone all the way with this one ... the movie ended 10 minutes before the hour, so I'm thinkin' that maybe in that last few minutes cut from the movie, Randy Quaid unbuckles his seat belt as his red Dodge Durango is teetering on the top of one of the antennas on the Sears/K-Mart Tower, where he was deposited by the tornado, and slides down the antenna, dog under arm, to cheering crowds. I assume we'll see that as the beginning of the sequel.

At each commercial break, CBS touted its show, Survivor. I don't watch it, but my curiosity was piqued. The show is shot on some island ... Xanadu, I think. I thought I saw Olivia Newton John prancing around while some guy said, "If you question a woman's ability, she'll snap your neck!"

Now I might watch the re-runs if that happens, especially if it's Olivia Newton John snapping some dude's neck, just like in a Steven Seagal movie.

That would be cool. Reality. Really.

Posted by Bill at November 17, 2004 11:54 PM