Rental

            Steven was not having a good time.  The others were, apparently.  Their laughter sounded to him like the braying of mules.  Their guffaws and snorts only served to highlight their own stupidity.  Like primates with a new toy they could not disguise their revolting naivete and immaturity.  This also made them clueless to his own suffering.  But this was for the best, Steven thought.  None of them could possibly understand his pain in the least.

            Steven was stimulated by thoughtful discourse, by interesting events.  He wanted plots that excited and surprised him.  He desired characters that were fluid, not static in their behavior.  What he was getting was hellish.  This drivel was not art.  It wasn’t even entertainment.  It was pretty lights for morons.  It was the lowest common denominator. 

            But strangely, he could not look away, like Alex DeLarge he felt as if someone had fastened his gaze upon what was before him, and he was unable to close his eyes.  This frustrated and shamed him.  Apparently he took some kind of joy in the sophomoric display before him; there could be no other explanation.  This of course meant that he was no better than those Cro-Magnons he shared a home with.

            They exploded with laughter yet again, these chirping magpies, these shrill harpies.  The object of their amusement was some person on the screen.  This person was apparently quite clumsy, and their lack of coordination somehow resulted in comedy of the lowest order.  Steven had made many suggestions for an alternative to this, but all had been shot down.  He did not understand.  He had even lowered his standards and suggested titles that were not his usual fare, but in an attempt to compromise he had made an exception just this once.  Even this olive branch he had extended had been set afire and overruled.

            Steven sighed.  It was one of this big, obvious sighs that drips with boredom and frustration.  Sadly, the others were too engrossed in their own pleasure to even bat an eye.  Fools, he thought. He would remember this injustice for as long as he lived, which considering what was currently being presented to him as entertainment, might not be very long.  This was the last time he would ever let his roommates pick the movie.