My wife’s new police officer boyfriend and his colleague
Posted: Thu Mar 27, 2025 10:28 am
Yes, all that in about 5 seconds. Quick, the guy. Oh, and as you can imagine: like all research company CEOs, he's a champion of close combat. So off we go for a fight without much interest, during which Cross is so violent that he even kills the helicopter pilots without meaning to. Then, Ant-Man and him find themselves fighting for a while in the Yellow Jacket's suitcase, which has closed on them in the turbulence, before falling out of the helicopter.
Our heroes therefore find themselves fighting with a phone near them whose SIRI, accidentally activated, plays music because huhuhu, lolilol, it's so funny. Then, their suitcase falls into a garden, and they can resume their fight in peace near a barbecue. They expand and shrink to make perfectly choreographed fights (Cross being as skilled as his opponent, who nevertheless fax lists took days to master the basics of the suit, it was even a good part of the film, the crew must have drunk and forgotten this detail). Until the moment when Ant-Man sends his opponent into an insect trap, which blocks him and temporarily knocks him out. But as he is about to capture him...
“Freeze, motherfucker!
” “My god! !
” “Yes, not only were we chasing the helicopter you were in for no reason, but when we saw it start spinning and going to crash, rather than try to go to the crash site, we thought we’d chase a completely unremarkable black suitcase that we saw falling against the black sky in the middle of the night! And poof, here we are!” “
That makes perfect sense.
” “Come on, let’s arrest you and take off your helmet, and you can explain yourself at the station.”
So Scott is taken away, giving Cross time to compose himself. And while our hero is in the back of a police car trying to say, "Wait, guys," there's a perfectly rational story behind it all: it all starts when a wealthy retiree decides to bet everything on a loser con man he's never seen because...
But suddenly, the radio crackles:
" All vehicles, hostage situation in progress at 21 rue Enora Malagré."
21 rue Enora Malagré? Holy shit! That's Scott's family! And by extension, that of the policeman who plays the Welsh screwdriver on his wife on nights when they drink a little too much champomy! Quick, let's go! And above all, let's not wonder where Cross knows this address, since the last I heard, he hasn't the slightest idea who Scott is.
Our heroes therefore find themselves fighting with a phone near them whose SIRI, accidentally activated, plays music because huhuhu, lolilol, it's so funny. Then, their suitcase falls into a garden, and they can resume their fight in peace near a barbecue. They expand and shrink to make perfectly choreographed fights (Cross being as skilled as his opponent, who nevertheless fax lists took days to master the basics of the suit, it was even a good part of the film, the crew must have drunk and forgotten this detail). Until the moment when Ant-Man sends his opponent into an insect trap, which blocks him and temporarily knocks him out. But as he is about to capture him...
“Freeze, motherfucker!
” “My god! !
” “Yes, not only were we chasing the helicopter you were in for no reason, but when we saw it start spinning and going to crash, rather than try to go to the crash site, we thought we’d chase a completely unremarkable black suitcase that we saw falling against the black sky in the middle of the night! And poof, here we are!” “
That makes perfect sense.
” “Come on, let’s arrest you and take off your helmet, and you can explain yourself at the station.”
So Scott is taken away, giving Cross time to compose himself. And while our hero is in the back of a police car trying to say, "Wait, guys," there's a perfectly rational story behind it all: it all starts when a wealthy retiree decides to bet everything on a loser con man he's never seen because...
But suddenly, the radio crackles:
" All vehicles, hostage situation in progress at 21 rue Enora Malagré."
21 rue Enora Malagré? Holy shit! That's Scott's family! And by extension, that of the policeman who plays the Welsh screwdriver on his wife on nights when they drink a little too much champomy! Quick, let's go! And above all, let's not wonder where Cross knows this address, since the last I heard, he hasn't the slightest idea who Scott is.