|DEP'T OF CORRECTIONS: I thought he was going to|
say “Come on, swing, you mother— SWIIIIIING!
YEAH! YEAAAH!”, but in the actual movie he said
the only stupider cliché possible: “Faster! FASTER!”
Did I get everything right? No, I didn't know that there would be so very much blood involved. I failed to note the flat-beige vinyl contact paper wrap on the generic brand I-Can't-Believe-They're-Not-Drums drums, so they could be easily cleaned up and rewrapped after being abused and kicked around the set take after take. I did fail to anticipate that the professor would start banging on a cowbell and trashing the band room in his lust for making the drummer play fast. But any such predictions would have been dismissed as pure, rash, mean-spirited speculation. “How can you possibly know the movie's going to be that f__in' ridiculous?” is what people would have said.
So, yeah. As tempting as it is continue berating this thing Harry S. Plinkett-style, and making a bunch of gifs of the horrible, childish mimicry of drumming by the actors in this film, I think it's best we just move on. It's just one movie, and not that big a deal. OK, here's one:
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