We were watching a spy thriller, shoot-’em-up that did, indeed, require some serious suspension of disbelief.
But it was a streaming TV show.
And I thought it was awesome.
“Also, no man is gonna storm a warehouse on his own against forty, fifty of the enemy, and have those enemies be stupid enough to rush him, while carrying guns of their own, so he can shoot them, essentially point blank,” Knox carried on. “He’d be dead two steps in because they’d shoot from their positions, but I’ll give him five steps since he took them by surprise.”
Although this was fascinating, I was internally at odds with how well he knew this information.
“It’s a streaming TV show,” I reminded him.
“It’s ridiculous,” he said to me.
“But it’s just a TV show.”
He had the remote, because of course he did, because he also had a dick (and a very nice one at that).
Then again, the verbal tussle we had about who would be in command of the remote was only half-hearted on my part.
This was a weird thing about me.
If I was watching TV with other people, I had remote anxiety. I didn’t understand it. But it freaked me if I was the one who had to type into the search screen or fast-forward or rewind to the right spot.
Knox paused the show, and explained, “They’ve founded this in reality. It’s a show about the UK maybe going to war with South Korea, which is the start of the ridiculousness, since they’re allies. If you make it real, it’s gotta seem real. You make it all fantasy, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Like Han and Luke being good shots, and nearly every stormtrooper sucking with their blasters,” I said.
He nodded his head that was lying on a toss pillow. “Like that. And John Wick kicking ass in what is our world, but everything about his world is dark urban fantasy. So him besting everyone he’s up against doesn’t seem stupid.”
“Do you want to stop watching this?” I offered.
“Not if you’re into it,” he said.
Aw, he was so sweet.
“Is this something I need to make note of for future, that spy or commando or whatever type action shows need to pass the Knox Chambers test of believability or you’ll grumble through the whole thing?”
He appeared insulted. “I’m not grumbling.”
“Dude, we’re watching a hot guy, who’s not as hot as you, by the way…”
He smirked.
Mm.
I was falling in love with that smirk.
“…saving two awesome nations from going to war and you’re counting rounds,” I concluded.
“It’s reflex,” he muttered.
I rolled my eyes.
When I rolled them back, he was smiling at me.
“Since we’re paused, do you want to take this opportunity to make a huge-ass bowl of popcorn?” I asked.
“Real melted butter?”
