I have yet another apartment elevator observation, other than the fact that it has smelled like someone cooked B.O. Chicken in it recently. I notice that there’s a sign in the elevator that says “In case of fire, use stairs.” Pretty standard in elevators. How many people, though, are trying the elevator during a fire. I imagine this scene: A fire breaks out on the eigth floor. A screaming man, followed by many other screaming people, run to the elevator. He hits the button, which subsequently lights up. “Come on, come on,” he says, hitting the button repeatedly, as if that will speed up the process. Finally, the reassuring “ding” occurs, and everyone breaths a sigh of relief. However, the moment the man steps into the elevator, he notices the sign, with the helpful picture of a red fire, and a black and white staircase. Quickly he puts two and two together. “Oh no. We’ll have to take the stairs,” followed by the screams of all the women in the crowd. They quickly run just past the flames and throw open the door to the stairs, only to discover giant scorpions, wearing police officer hats. The experiment had gone horribly wrong. “Man, I hate it when I’m right,” says the man.
And it goes on from there with a lot of explosions and stuff. The man will either say that last line or “Scorpion-cops, I hate these guys.” I’m still working on selling the movie rights.