Superstorm

by

Superstorm 

The story so far …

The world’s fucked. The weather, bastard son of a whore that it is, is getting more ferocious with each passing year, threatening to wipe places like Miami, Cuba and the Bahamas off the map. Something needs to be done to avert financial disaster and the Americans have a plan …

Tom Sizemore, the wife-beating drunk you might have last seen coked up to the eyeballs fucking a tart in a porno movie, gets together an elite team of weather experts under the umbrella of ‘Operation Storm Shield’. The operation’s mandate is to change the weather using science and thus save Disneyworld – land of fat people and cancerous children in big baseball caps – from certain destruction. Sizemore’s team are:

  • That woman who got it on, lesbian-fashion, with Beth Jordache in Brookside.
  • A big blonde man who looks a bit like that chap from Thank You For Smoking.
  • A token Asian man.
  • A man with the cheesiest grin in the whole history of cheesy grins.
  • A young bloke with a goatee beard and glasses.
  • A woman who’s good with computers and who may or may not be ‘good with colours’ (if you know what I’m saying).

So … the team assembles to tackle the hurricane that’s heading Miami’s way. The woman from Brookside’s speciality is ‘storm-seeding’ – which appears to be firing parachutes full of something I didn’t understand into the storm whilst flying through it. She decides to give storm-seeding a whirl on a lesser hurricane and it all goes tits-up, killing the young bloke with the goatee beard in the process after his plane falls prey to wind. Much glumness ensues.

Next up to the crease are big blonde man and his token Asian assistant. They’re charged with diverting a hurricane called Grace away from Florida and out back into the Atlantic. Their plan is to fly B52 bombers into the clouds above the Pacific and fire carbon at them. This will apparently create a weather system that will travel across the States and slam into Grace, turning her away from the mainland. How it gets from the Pacific to the Atlantic I couldn’t tell you … really big fans maybe?

Anyway. cheesy grin man discovers that if this new weather front diverts Grace, it will put her in the path of a newly-developing tropical storm coming in from the south. This, apparently, is a bad thing as Grace will absorb the aforementioned storm and become a big-assed superstorm. The team tries to tell Sizemore about all this but he’s not interested … this is a man who was shot in the arse during World War II, don’t forget, so he’s hardly likely to listen to the whinings of a few geeks.

The team all resign and Sizemore goes ahead and authorises the bombers to fire off their carbon behind their backs. The Pacific storm develops and floods the living daylights out of Louisiana and Mississippi on it’s way to the Atlantic. Blonde man rings cheesy man (who is shagging an old woman) and tells him it’s all gone belly-up. The team get together and work out the new superstorm Sizemore’s inadvertently created is heading for New York. And we all know what that means now they’ve invented CGI, don’t we fucking just?

Superstorm isn’t half bad. In fact, for a Sunday night drama, it makes a nice change to have a bit of tension instead of the duvet-like qualities of Monarch of the Glen, Ballykissangel or Heartbeat. I don’t think it’s going to win any awards (unless they invent an award for ‘Best Weather-Related Sunday Night BBC Drama’ … and I can’t see that, can you?), but as a piece of throwaway entertainment, it suits that Sunday night vibe down to the ground. Recommended if you don’t want to give your brain the strain.

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3 Responses to “Superstorm”

  1. Swineshead Says:

    Christ – this is a bit positive coming from you isn’t it?
    Are you on anti-depressants?

  2. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I’ve been under the weather … weather .. ho ho … see how I mentioned the weather there? In a thing commenting about a thing about the weather? See? D’you see?

  3. Swineshead Says:

    Stop being so fucking upbeat or I’ll have your guts for garters.

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