Thursday, 26 November 2009

Doubles Enstandards

Years and years (and years) ago, a family member tried to buy a t-shirt bearing the legend 'Kentucky Fried Rat' complete with an image of an appropriately prepared rodent. He couldn't in the end because the mail-order company went out of business . That's what happens when you sell clothing that makes passers-by vomit, leap in front of buses and squander their final moments twitching in a lagoon of bile and incontinence.

Not so long ago, Ratatouille hit cinemas and grown-ups were being dragged by both tiny and not so tiny ('special') hands into multiplexes to weep into their disappointing popcorn at the antics of a rat that worked in a restaurant. Those were tears of joy that were blazing a trail of mirth down their rosy cheeks by the way, not tears of glum. And that's just the parents. The fat little cherubs parked next to them were enjoying it so much they exploded. Then they swept themselves up into a Cineworld Ratatouille dustpan, dribbled Fanta over themselves to form a putty, reformed their putty into something vaguely resembling a child, only to explode all over again. That's how much they loved this film. Then they would leave the cinema to visit Mcdonalds and have a Ratatouille branded Happy Meal. Now, did they look at the panicking rat on the box (pictured sprinting across a tabletop) and think "ooh, they wanna get the departmen' of 'ealth in der"? Did they fuck. They smiled at the box, smile at the cherub munching on his Ratatouille fries and Ratatouille beef burger, slurping his Ratatouille coke and wiping the Ratatouille grease away from his Ratatouille face and thought no more than "ratatouille ratatouille ratatouille ratatouille ratatouilleratatata". Curiously, the Ratatouille Happy Meal contained no actual ratatouille. Then again Mcdonalds are often guilty of these misnomers. 'Beef burger' for example.

Time does march on though, and now a family have complained after visiting their local KFC and seen a rat running around the restaurant. The rat was no doubt startled by this negative response. I bet he trotted out the kitchen door, pockets bulging with Ratatouille party favours expecting to entertain the kiddywinks, and instead of spending the afternoon making Pixar balloon animals he gets chased away by irate mums screaming "eek, rat!". As he ran back into the kitchen he must have been wondering why they didn't say the whole word. That's before he had too much cheese and beat his wife of course.

Britain, make up your bloody mind.

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