There are a number of things in life I'm aware I'll never fully understand. A few quick examples include: Truck Balls, wearing camouflage in suburban areas, the enduring popularity of Jeff Dunham and women (am I right, men?).
Highest on this list (at least at the time of this writing) is the Air Buddies franchise.
Just in case you don't remember, Air BUD was the heartwarming tale (or should I say tail?) of a boy and his dog taking the rock to the net. Occasionally from downtown.
The basic plot revolved around a boy named Josh who was too much of a wuss to try out for his school's basketball team and instead adopts a dog named Buddy. Actually it might not have been "instead", necessarily, I don't really remember. At any rate, the dog, as it turns out, is not only an exceptionally skilled basketball player, but better by a great deal than Josh. This roller coaster ride of a plot comes to a head when Buddy's original owner, an alcoholic birthday clown, show up and tries to take Buddy back after having realized how valuable he is. This results in a stand off where Mr. Antagonist and Josh stand on either side of Buddy calling at him to come to them. Buddy chooses Josh (obviously) and if memory serves, something wacky probably happens to Sir Bad Guy, like getting a sticky substance like fudge or syrup dropped on him or something.
Through several direct to video and DVD sequels with names like Air Bud: Golden Receiver Buddy would crush the spirits of little league teams everywhere by defeating them in sports where having thumbs served a significant advantage and truly cementing how little a fuck the Refs of kids sports actually give.
Finally after several years of imitators and increasingly ludicrous premises for the films themselves, someone decided to step in and do something about this mess of a franchise (Unfortunately for fans of Michael Phelps, his planned cameo in Air Bud: Water Logged Dog never materialized due to the script of the movie being rejected). Finally. It was over. Finally, we could sleep.
Or could we.
Just when the universe collectively thought it was safe to go back into the water, so to speak, executives, apparently still as keen on the idea of a dog playing sports as I was when I was seven decided that one dog that could play a shit-load of sports wasn't RAD enough. Instead they opted for a shit-load of dogs that could play one sport each.
Also, they could talk.
No reasonable explanation is ever given for this.
Saddled with his precious mistakes, Buddy became a stoic, soft-spoken stay at home dad (partially because he is a dog, and cannot talk, and would just as soon eat his puppies as nurture them) while the Buddies (who, I'm told do all have names or something) go increasingly insane adventures, each one making the fact that they all play sports a little less significant.
In the third movie, Space Buddies, the puppies went to space.
What.
D'aw.
Also, what.
No comments:
Post a Comment