Musicals are the worst thing to ever happen to storytelling. Period. I would rather watch every Uwe Boll film on repeat to the end of time than sit through another perky “comedy” about shoes or hair products or AIDS. Even still, there comes a time in everyone’s life where they are forced to sit through one of the many oozing stomach ulcers known as musicals. I’m here to guide you on how to make it to the credits.
1. Food – You know those days when you stand over a sink eating a cold hot dog on stale bread with a mustard packet from the Nixon administration? No? Well it’s called Thursday over here and I think you should shut the hell up about my eating habits. Anyway, this just won’t do if you are forced to endure a musical. You have to load up on every salty, sugary, oh-god-my-pancreas-is-dying type food you can get your hands on. The food coma you will achieve might last longer than John Travolta’s terrifying Scientologist summoning rituals, which I believe was the plot of Hairspray.
2. Drugs – These musical heresies to humankind would not exist if it weren’t for incredible amounts of narcotic drugs. I’m not talking about Advil and a nice Gin and Tonic, I’m thinking more like ketamine and the latent effects of child abuse. More likely, it’s the will of some gnostic demon channeling its thoughts into the world through hallucinogens. If the only way these horrible humans can conjure up the self-justification that the musicals they create are acceptable is through drugs, why not join them?
My main suggestion would be edible cannabis products. You can add it to the food method discretely and blast into your own personal world for a few hours.
3. Seduction – If you are watching a musical, it is usually a trap from your significant other. He or she is testing your commitment to them. This is the relationship equivalent to the Spartan Agoge. They want to hurt you. They want to cleave your heart out, urinate on it, fill it with molasses and Prince albums and shove it back in. Like a voodoo slave, you come out the other end disoriented, undead, and suggestible to almost anything.
The way to subvert this is to embrace it. Light some candles. Get the bubbly. Call them over to your lap. This isn’t the time for lazy lines or the old butt-grab-and-eyebrow-lift. This calls for an NFL level game plan. Make each touch count, a fumble here would spell ruin. Keep your eye on the ball, or balls depending on which gender you are targeting.
4. Intestinal Sabotage – Do you know what a musical date should also entail? A trip to your favorite shady Mexican or Indian food place. If there isn’t a long trail of dirt from construction workers caked into the carpet, you aren’t getting the right tamales. You want the green chili to broil your insides like a mouthful of molten lead. You want curry in so many colors that your stool will look like an abstract masterpiece.
In a pinch (tee hee), ExLax should do the trick. It’s been helping our grandparents for years, so why not allow it to save your future relationship? If you can spend more than half of your time occupied in the loo, you might be able to keep your sanity.
5. Cut the Power – Sometimes the only way to win is to not play at all. Let’s face it, anyone who likes musicals doesn’t know how to flip a breaker. They’ll believe that a blackout hit only your apartment and will go along with your outrage at ‘The Man’ at the power company for not being able to keep something so simple as an enormous power grid running flawlessly. The only drawback to this plan is that it is more of a stay of execution, not a permanent solution.
My fight with musicals has just begun, but I need to know how all of you keep yourself from the heretical mewlings of musicals. Leave a comment below with your strategy.
Side note: Cleaving all jazz hands and making the performer wear their shamed appendage is a viable option for a different time period. We’re out to win hearts and minds, not get prison time.
Tony Southcotte hails from the Rocky Mountains somewhere around the state of Colorado. Possibly raised by grizzly bears, this gritty denizen of the arena now spends most of his time grappling with Java updates and dysfunctional RAM. With not much fiction under his belt, it might seem tempting to bet against Mister Southcotte, but an impressive knowledge of everything from PVC pipe to psychedelic drugs makes Tony a storehouse of fiction waiting to hit the paper. Plus, you know, there’s the possibility of him ripping you apart like a grizzly bear.