***Throughout this Christmas season, we will be eating and drinking our faces. We will also be posting recaps of the shows that are on as well as Best in Comments articles and Christmas recap reprints!! Enjoy this P Baby Walker classic!!
Happy Holidays Gasmii! I can’t believe it’s almost Christmas! Did I ever tell you guys that I freaking LOVE Christmas? Like an obnoxious amount…so obnoxious that our Christmas decorations were hanging and lit by the second weekend in November, prompting Mr. P-Baby to ask if we were just skipping Thanksgiving this year. To which Elvis Nutcracker had this to say:
So this year I’m taking on the sequel to my all time favorite Christmas movie Home Alone. While my manic holiday fever forces me to watch the original Home Alone or as we call it at the P-Baby house, Buzz’s Girlfriend: The First Woof, at least once a month, I actually think the sequel is special in its own right. Who DOESN’T dream of befriending homeless people covered in bird shit while touring Central Park at night? I know that’s on my bucket list.
I guess we should just get started right? We’ve got children to lose and credit cards to steal. Time is of the essence.
Here we are, once again at the McCallister household with everyone frantically running around because no one is this family can plan a vacation worth a shit. Make a list, people. Then maybe you won’t forget your own offspring all the time. Rather than the snooty Paris they ventured to a couple years prior, the McCallisters are off to the majestic destination of…Florida. I don’t understand why a family with such a badass house and seemingly major issues with accountability want to fly places all the time. Speaking of the amazing house, here’s a fun link for those who want to take a tour.
As per usual, Kevin is being an annoying little shit to his family only this time, he has a high tech piece of equipment to record all his snarky thoughts into. Remember the Talkboy?
Kevin’s not too thrilled about the pending trip to Florida because of the lack of Christmas trees there. Instead of telling him to shut the fuck up and and get out of the room like I’d do if I were Mrs. McCallister, she just gives him a blow up pool toy clown from his grandma and lets him continue acting like a mouthy bitch. Mr. McCallister decides to show up and because he’s as inept as the rest of these idiots, he unplugs the alarm clock while retrieving some charging batteries from their fire hazard of an electrical outlet. Maybe he is subconsciously trying to avoid the trip to Florida, in which case, I can’t blame him. Unfortunately, the reality is that he’s a fucking moron who I’m weirdly attracted to and would totally have seduced if hired as a babysitter for Kevin (but only in the 90′s. The 2000′s haven’t been kind to Mr. McCallister.)
He shooes Kevin away to go put on a tie in preparation for the night’s choral concert but Kevin’s tie is being held captive in the bathroom by a naked Uncle Frank. Uncle Frank is apparently taking the world’s longest shower and I have to side with Kevin that a showering Uncle Frank is something that no living being should have to see. Kevin decides against his better judgement to pop in and snatch the tie, recording Uncle Frank’s smash hit rendition of Cool Jerk in the process. Frank soon realizes he’s being spied on and invites Kevin to join him screams at Kevin to stop blowing up his spot and get his perverted ass out of there.
It seems everyone has managed to get their shit together long enough to attend the McCallister kids’ holiday choir concert. Side note: How much do I love that Big Pete Wrigley is a McCallister child? Answer: A TON.
At the concert, apparently Kevin has some big solo that his sociopath brother Buzz decides to ruin because Buzz’s goal in life is to overcompensate for his ugly girlfriend by shitting upon his brother at any opportunity. Kevin retaliates by pushing Buzz, whose girth throws the whole choir off balance, knocking them over, effectively ending the show. Of course, Kevin is blamed prompting another outburst admonishing his family for being simpletons. He is then banished once again to the third floor and a bath in Fuller’s urine. I like how the third floor is the McCallister equivalent to solitary confinement only instead of being by yourself, you have a cellmate with the bladder control of a 90 year old.
The next morning, Mrs. McCallister awakes to realize that she is rocking the most mommest of mom do’s ever and is completely horrified.
She’s also horrified that once again, an entire houseful of people have managed to oversleep and that the airline van driver won’t stop running over her goddamn statue.
Chaos ensues but they make it out of the house with all the people, plane tickets, and luggage. Even though the McCallisters are running like a million hours behind schedule, Kevin decides that he absolutely has to have batteries for his stupid Talkboy and starts rifling through his dad’s bag for them. His dad’s bag has batteries of course. It also contains a shit ton of cash and credit cards. As a non-parent, I don’t think it’s my place to judge parenting decisions (That’s a lie. I judge everything, ESPECIALLY when your baby won’t shut the fuck up on an airplane.) That being said, I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon to trust your 9-year old with ALL OF YOUR MONEY. Christ, Peter. The only explanation for his ineptitude at life is that those Cat People really fucked him up big time.
Kevin gets his Talkboy battery situation taken care of fairly quickly, but not quick enough to keep up with his family who are making complete assholes of themselves once again racing through the Chicago airport like it’s a Walmart on Black Friday because they are incapable of being anywhere on time. He trails behind a dude who he thinks is his dad and ends up running smack into an airline worker collecting boarding passes, dropping his into the mix. Now, I do a lot of flying and I know if I were to do what Kevin just did, I’d get cussed out by said disgruntled worker and probably booted from the flight. Since Kevin is so cute and this was before the era of TSA strip searching 4 year olds at checkpoints, Kevin is permitted to board the plane WITHOUT a boarding pass and WITHOUT the airline worker actually checking that his family was indeed on board.
Like the rest of society, Kevin ignores all the announcements that state very clearly he is headed to New York rather than Florida. It also seems to not bother him one bit that he hasn’t seen any other member of his Duggar sized family. But he’s got his dad’s life savings and a smug attitude which is clearly enough to get by in this world. Just ask those Occupy Wall Street freeloaders.
After a restful flight, Kevin lands and finds himself alone, abandoned at the airport. Meanwhile, in Miami, Mrs. McCallister realizes that her hair is never going to hold up in Florida humidity.
She also realizes that she’s once again misplaced one of her spawn and instead of handling it like the seasoned pro she is, she passes out like a freshman at a frat party.
Kevin, being a smart little whippersnapper realizes quickly that New York is about 7 billion times more awesome than Miami and takes in the sights including China Town, the top of a World Trade Center, and some other stuff. Resourceful fellow. I went on a class trip to NYC when I was a junior in high school. After getting lost for the better part of the morning, we went to Times Square, ate at Applebees, and then at night played rousing games of truth or dare where I found myself dressed in a toga, thrown into a shower and sharing a sofa bed with three other people. Oh, memories. Anyway, point is, we would have totally invited Kevin to hang with us if we found a 10 YEAR OLD WANDERING AROUND NYC BY HIMSELF. The fuck?
Back in Miami, the McCallisters are once again reporting to the police that they’ve lost one of their children. How many chances would you say, on average, do parents have to misplace their kids before someone intervenes? Is 4 too many? Because there are 4 Home Alone movies which, even as a non-parent, I find rather alarming.
In what seems like an extremely bad stroke of luck, the Wet Bandits have managed to bust out of jail and have chosen NYC as their destination. Marv used his time in jail to really reflect upon his life, deciding that being half of the Wet Bandits was not the path for him. Behold…
After an exhausting day taking in all of NYC’s wonderful hot spots, Kevin hightails it to The Plaza Hotel because this wouldn’t be nearly as interesting a movie if he was holed up in a Motel 6. He scams his way into a hotel reservation and room though in the process he garners a new set of foes in the form of the colorful Plaza Hotel staff.
I feel obligated to point out after Google imaging pictures of Rob Schneider that his movies are Fucking. Terrible.
Dr. Furter knows something is up because unlike the rest of the NYC population circa 1992, he acknowledges it’s odd for a kid to be unsupervised in a big city. Where he goes wrong is that instead of calling the police right away, he assigns Deuce to take Kevin up to his room on a fact-gathering mission. I assume the lack of police notification has to do with Dr. Furter’s night job.
Honestly, between running an evil castle, concierging at the Plaza, and luring children into gutters, where does the man find the time?
Unsurprisingly, Kevin shoos Deuce away before any real information is revealed, tipping him with a piece of Zebra stripe gum and a smile. Zebra Stripes gum was SO delicious but the flavor lasted .003 seconds before it was time for another piece. What a scam.
After a quick dip in the pool, Kevin orders a shit ton of room service and indulges in Angels With Even Filthier Souls which makes me nostalgic for Snakes and his dirty, yella, no good keister. Poor Snakes. Never had a chance. Dr. Furter has taken the night off from his evil mansion and science experiments to check in on Kevin, posing as house-keeping to see what the hell is going on.
Kevin, quick on his feet, rigs up the shower with his blow-up clown and Uncle Frank’s singing, to which Dr. Furter is all, “Sweet, a party! Let me go change.”
Fake Uncle Frank unfortunately scares Dr. Furter away before things can really take off, harboring Kevin’s secret and securing his place at the hotel for another day. Once again, Google Images makes me obligated to point something out…or ask a question rather: DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A PERSON? LIKE, AN ACTUAL HUMAN BEING?
The correct, and only answer would be a resounding no. No, it does not. I’d expect more astute observation skills from a doctor. What Dr. Furter is able to figure out, though, is that the credit card used to secure Kevin’s room has been reported stolen. That’s bad news for Kevin, but he doesn’t give a shit because right now he’s in the back of a limo shoving pizza down his face and heading to the most awesome toy store ever, owned and operated by my main man Duncan.
Meanwhile, the Sticky Bandits are hard at work ice-skating and formulating a plan on how to make a quick buck. In another bad stroke of luck, the Sticky Bandits have decided to set their sights on Duncan’s Toy Chest, Kevin’s EXACT current location, because apparently toy stores are going to be the only place on Christmas Eve with a ton of money. I guess this was before the time of Apple stores. Besides, the Sticky Bandits can’t hide in an iPod the same way they hide in a toy house, waiting for the store to close.
I know we are supposed to care about the money from Duncan’s Toy Chest, or why else would Kevin try to foil the Sticky Bandits plan to knock over the store later on? In a brief encounter, the owner Mr. Duncan tells Kevin about how much he loves kids and that they bring joy to him. Mr. Duncan is a very sweet man who I want to warn that he should chill out on the loving kids talk. One old man gets arrested and ruins it for everyone.
Apparently the money from Christmas sales is being donated to a children’s hospital. Mr Duncan than babbles incoherently about how turtledoves are a symbol of friendship and gives Kevin turtledove ornaments after Kevin donates $20 to the cause. I know none of this would happen today after watching videos of crowds being pepper-sprayed and grandpas getting thrown to the ground on Black Friday so for the sake of the holiday spirit, let’s pretend like we don’t live in a shallow society of XBox 360′s and flat screen TVs.
Well, this was bound to happen at some point. Even though the Sticky Bandits are now in New York which is about 800 miles from Chicago, they don’t seem all that surprised to find their nemesis standing right outside the store they intend to rob. Do they honestly not know how this is going to play out?
And…cue chase scene:
Against all odds, Kevin makes it back to his hotel room though Dr. Furter and friends are on to his scheme and hot on his tail. After eluding them once again with the use of Johnny and his tommy gun, Kevin escapes the hotel through the back exit, landing smack dab in the arms of Harry. Kevin CANNOT catch a break today. Good thing his irresponsible family is on their way to New York after finding out via credit card activity that their little hellion has been wrecking havoc on the citizens of the Big Apple for the past 45 minutes. Mrs. McCallister is surely relieved as the brisk New York air will be much better for shellacking her tresses in place.
Anyway, Kevin of course manages to escape the sticky grip of Marv and Harry because Kevin lives in a world where all adults are stupid. He catches wind that the Sticky Bandits are planning to rob Mr. Duncan and with this information, his little hamster wheel starts spinning overtime. He attempts to go see his uncle who conveniently is not home like all the other adults in his life. His uncle’s house is in shambles apparently undergoing a renovation, leaving all sorts of dangerous things available for bodily harm against crooks.
Out one hotel room and one decrepit house, Kevin is on his ass for the night. He runs into Central Park and after an initial scare with the Pigeon Lady, she turns out to be just as friendly as the Southbend Shovel Slayer. She’s all, “Feed the birds, tuppence a bag” to which Kevin’s like, “Only a tuppence? I’ve got like hundreds of my dad’s dollars, no problem!”
After freezing their ass off in Central Park for awhile, the Pigeon Lady and Kevin head to the rafters of a symphony to warm up. It’s all very uplifting, except when you remember that Pigeon Lady’s life has gone to shit, is homeless, has no friends, and smells like bird droppings. Kevin decides that the Pigeon Lady has suffered enough and vows to be her friend always.
Inspired by the ramblings of Pigeon Lady, Kevin decides to put a stop to the Sticky Bandits robbery. Being the engineering Rain Man that he is, he concocts a fun house of horrors at his uncle’s house all based off of one incredibly detailed master plan.
Look, I get that the Uncle McCallister’s house is “being renovated” but his house is legit gutted. I wonder if by “renovated” that movie actually meant to say that the contractors wrecked the house and stole all of Uncle McCallister’s shit? Oh well, the McCallister broad in general seem pretty well off. I’m sure it’ll be fine.
After 2 minutes of wiring, painting, stringing, pouring, sawing, and dousing, it’s go time! At the stroke of midnight, Kevin pops over to Duncan’s Toy Chest, catching Marv and Harry in the midst of stealing the toy money. Instead of calling 911 like I know was beaten into my head when I was growing up if I saw something really bad happening, Kevin the Vigilante decides to take matters into his own hands, throwing a brick with a note through the window, setting off the alarm and spooking the bandits.
Kevin, being chased, has lured the Bandits to his deathtrap house and as Marv and Harry formulate a plan, Marv takes like 18 bricks to the face from 3 stories up which even at 8 years old, I knew was impossible for 1. Kevin to have such good aim and 2. For Marv to still be alive and standing after the first brick. I digress because we’ve got a whole lot more of Marv torture to get through in the next ten minutes.
Right, as I was saying. Marv has now had his ass, crotch and nose staple gunned and fallen through a floor two stories, has been electrocuted, and covered with a million paint cans. Meanwhile, Harry has slipped off a booby trapped fire escape, smashed with a bunch of wrenches, and had his head set on fire once more. Why these two assholes haven’t figured out after the initial brick-throwing incident that they should cut their losses and leave is beyond me. Masochists.
I think we all grasp what is happening here. Bottom line is that Marv and Harry are like Bruce Willis’s Unbreakable brothers who were given away after birth due to only needing one superhero in the family. In the event that Uncle McCallister’s contractors haven’t completely ripped him off, they are going to show up to work on the house after the holidays and wonder what the fuck happened to all their tools.
Kevin decides to finally call 911 reporting the burglary and lures the Bandits into Central Park. After slipping on an unfortunate patch of ice, Marv and Harry are able to capture Kevin once again. Luckily for Kevin, being nice to the nutjobs in Central Park has come back in spades when Pigeon Lady and her Bird Army show up just in time to save Kevin from certain death. Pigeon Lady douses the Sticky Bandits with bird seed and the two star in their own mini-version of The Birds.
It’s time to wrap this mess up, shall we? The whole time Kevin’s been playing with the burglars, Mrs. McCallister’s been frantically cabbing it around NYC to find him. She remember he likes Christmas trees so she puts two and two together in her fabulously coiffed head and catches a ride with the police to Rockefeller Center. Miraculously, Kevin’s also there, the two hug, and Mrs. McCallister’s all, “Watch the hair,” Kevin’s like, “Fine, whatever Mom, do you have any cheese pizza?”
Before peacing out of New York, Kevin swings by Central Park delivering one of his two turtledove ornaments to Pigeon Lady who’s touched and loves Kevin just as much as the Southbend Shovel Slayer. The McCallisters are back together once again and all is right with the world. Buzz is still ugly, Mr. McCallister is still weirdly attractive, and Mr. Duncan delivers the entire stock of his store to their penthouse suite for Christmas morning, once again proving my theory that Christmas in New York beats Miami any day of the week.
Merry Christmas Gasmii and a happy new year!!