Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Monday, December 24, 2018

Throw Momma from the Train: Who the hell was looking after Momma Lift while Owen was on his 'gotta kill Margaret' Hawaiian vacation? Did she even know he was gone? "Murder at My Friend Harry's" wasn't exactly a barn-burner, so no way Owen was able to make up a convincing story. (And who is supporting them financially? Did Owen even have a job? Who would hire him? My point of this tangent being that - maybe - Owen could've claimed a corporate retreat sending him out of town a few days...and now that I think about it, how could he even afford a trip to Hawaii on no visible means of income?!) Like Momma herself points out later on, he doesn't have any friends and I doubt that she was Miss Popular, so no one was gonna sit with her.

Hell, Owen probably didn't even need Larry to kill her. Just leave her alone a few days and the job would've taken care of itself.

Weird damn way to spend Christmas Eve, I'll admit, but the movie was on and - much as I enjoy it - some shit just pops into your head.

See, this is why we need the IMDb message boards back.

Labels:

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home