I actually wrote a short comical story about it in my blog http://sonic911.umwblogs.org/
Here it is if you don't feel like going to my blog (warning: long but entertaining read)
Never in my life have I ever experienced a more suspenseful moment than when I watched "I am Legend" for the first time in the theatres with some of my friends. Part of what added to suspense and thrill of the movie were the moments where the movie would be so quiet that I could not only hear Brendan and Sean breathing heavily (they were sitting to my left and right), I could hear Bryan and Jon too (they were farther). I wish someone had informed me about these silent moments before I ate one of those microwaved bean burritos my theatre was selling that day. I can't tell you how many times I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat throughout the course of the movie, not because of the movie, but because it was so insanely hard to keep the gas inside me from ripping through the theatres like a nuclear explosion during the long, incessant quiet scenes.
Thankfully, the movie does get loud in the instances that are supposed to surprise and scare the F*** out of you. These scenes i used to my advantage. In the one scene where the dog runs into that dark apartment, the gas was building up inside of me so rapidly, not even US sanctions imposed on my chest would be able to save the theatre. And then, as Will Smith continues his search for his dog, a mutated human jumps out of the darkness with a scream that was so loud, let's just say that no one could hear something else that was screaming almost as loudly. I subtly used my peripheral vision to glance my right and left before the inevitable realization that something was not right. No movement from Brendan or Sean. In case they were to actually survive the blast, my mind immediately began pondering possible backup plans. I glanced one more time to my right and left. Unfortunately, the stench didn't kill them.
PLAN A: Play it cool.
Sean: "WHAT THE F***?"
Me: "Ughh. Who just let the dogs out?"
Brenden: "Whoever smelt it dealt it!"
Me: "Seeeaaannn!..."
Sean: "WHAT!??"
Bryan: "DUDE."
Sean: "It wasn't me"
Jon: "Then who was it?"
PLAN B: Hope friends are stupid.
Me: "Maybe it was the movie."
Brenden: "huh?"
Me: "Well, you know those 4d rides at Disney World? Maybe the smell is zombie breath?"
Indifferent and unconvinced faces. All four move five seats down away from me. Another silent gap. And then: Helicopter crash.
Bryan: "MISSAK!!!"
Me: "It's the smell of the burning fuel!"
Everyone moves five more seats down.
Another silent gap. And then: a conversation between Will Smith and Anna.
everybody: "That's it, we're leaving."
Missak: "It was ANNA. I SWEAR!"
*Disclaimer: Events depicted in this story are somewhat fictional but the characters are not. The four individuals cited in this story have not been asked for permission, and here's hoping that they don't sue the hell out of me under Virginia penal code 1.112.
The law states, "all parties who are represented in fart stories, without prior consent, are subject to sue the hell out of Missak Artinian, and then, if so willing, may cut both his hands off so that it would be nearly impossible for him to enjoy the little pleasures in life...you know, the kind of pleasures that could be considered unethical in public settings, such as libraries, high school locker rooms, police departments, but on the other hand, could be considered ethical in motion pictures like There's Something About Mary where the product of the said pleasure can make great hair gel, but I doubt Cameron Diaz actually used Ben Stiller's finished product for real, unless she's crazy, and she might as well be, considering that she was in Very Bad Things, which was a movie so unpleasant, I might as well have gone to a cemetery and have had more fun watching tombstones while Michael Jackson's Thriller was playing in the background, which, by the way, is a timeless song, and its a shame Youtube wasn't around when Michael Jackson's career went down the drains, as I would have definitely secured a million-dollar contract with a television station for my "Leave Michael Jackson ALONE" performance that would have been viewed by over ten million people who had nothing better to do, but then again, looks who's talking, considering that I'm writing a super long run-on sentence that I'm sure the principal from Billy Madison would have something to say about.
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