DAWN OF THE DEAD (2004)

So there I was the other night; watching the 2004 Dawn of the Dead and some elements in that enjoyable family film struck me as ripe for wise-ass commentary and witty remarks.
Enjoy.

1. Sarah Polley and Medium-Husband make out after getting aroused by power tools and the concept of dismembering the undead with said stimulating machinery. Hell, if that was all it took to score the digits from swell, classy dames like Sarah Polley then I'd have been lurking about hardware store power-tool aisles with a slack jaw, hungry thoughts and armed with my best amorous moan plus reservations for deux.

"...Is that a Husqvarna?"

Hey, it could work. Who are you to judge, with your clean ironed shirt and your enclosed footwear?
Screw you, guy. I hope a zombie eats your girlfriend. You know what I'm talkin' about.

2. Andre gets all weird and creepy as he goes about protecting his infected chica and her toxic womb filled with a zombie larvae hell-bent on making the nearest person's moist flesh the source of its nourishment. And by “nourishment” I mean it'll bite the fuck out of you with it's zombie infant gums. And how does the proud father go about 'protecting' his cursed offspring? By loading a clip and then unloading hot rounds, wild-west duel style, into a kindly old woman who wanted to check on the status of his wife. That's what being neighbourly gets you, folks; shot in the torso by some Father of the Year candidate as he defends his right to infect the local mall (planet later) with his gangsta-zombie hybrid spawn.
Fuck neighbourly, yo.

(Not Pictured) His kind, elderly target.

3. They probably could've saved Andy.
I'm just sayin'.
When the dog was in NO PERIL AT ALL cause zombies are apparently too upper-crust to feast on canine flesh, Nicole dropped her copy of Hot Redhead Weekly and hauled ass over to Andy's House of Bullets to come to the rescue.
The rescue of a very safe dog.
What a bitch.
Yeah, who needs Andy? The guy's only a crack shot with a sniper rifle and has a respectable ponytail. Oh yeah, he's also just a badass military chap with an Aladdin's fucking cave-worth of weaponry.
He'd be like, “Hey genie, I wish for some guns to fight this zombie plague. ...Wait, I already have them. Cancel that shit, G. Bring me a fucking Twix, yo. I'm set.”

That is, if a genie-filled lamp was involved. (Probably next remake.)

But noooooOOO. Nicole risks life and limb for the damn dog loaded with sandwiches.
The smart money was on Andy, y'all.
He probably had some sweet stories too. What's the dog gonna contribute around the campfire on Zombie-Free Island? Bark? Yeah. Gripping narrative, Chips.
...On the other hand (the hand I usually reserve for sexy dame-based decisions), Nicole is a well-baked slice of hotness cake, and if she, her dog or even her damn iPod was in danger from an impending horde of toothy, skin-craving Z-folk cursed to wander the earth (read: carpark) then I would put my pants back on and rush to the rescue post haste.

“We can make out after. Just fight the zombies, 'kay? Giggle”

4. CJ was a shitbag who overcame his jackass ways to rise above the level of asshole and give hope to pricks worldwide by becoming a useful, contributing member of the Anti-Zombie Alliance.
Instead of remaining a dick.
He goes from being the type of guy who everyone KNOWS pays for sex and then just beats the hooker until his pay-per view kicks in, to being...well, basically the same kind of gent, but he's more of a team player now and he knows how to blow shit up.
This newfound zest for cooperation and explosives is displayed no better than by his gallant act of sacrifice while destroying a truckload of ravenous freaks and a small pier; thus enabling his comrades to make their escape so that they may live on to remark, “Hey y'know, CJ was a pretty handy guy to have around back there. I started to forget what a complete anus he was to begin with.”

“REMEMBER MY POST-SHITBAG HEROISM!”

Boom.
Thanks, CJ. You're a sport.

And always remember...

Zombie Survival Rule # 53: Nicole is hot.