It had started at the car boot sale where Jack had spotted a box of old VHS tapes going cheap for a fiver. Rachel hadn’t planned to go along, but Roy and Sue were still on holiday and anything seemed better than sitting in her rented room, staring at a blank screen and wondering what the hell she was going to write her dissertation proposal about. There were two days left on the deadline and, so far, the only thing she’d been able to come up with was a recycle bin filled with stupid questions.
When they’d arrived, she’d turned to Jack and said: ‘I haven’t been to one of these in bloody ages.‘ Followed shortly by ‘Oh my god, is that a tube of POGs? No way!‘ Since the next student loan instalment didn’t arrive for three days, she knew that she’d have to ration herself. Even so, the translucent green tube of cardboard discs was only 25p. It even included a couple of gnarly-looking slammers too. As she handed over the coins, she told herself that the POGs would be worth hundreds in another decade’s time.
‘I knew we should have kept hold of that shopping trolley.‘ Jack grinned as he leaned against a tree and rolled a cigarette. Rachel put her bulging carrier bag down on the ground and leaned next to him. His lighter clicked. They stood in silence for a minute, until Rachel stared up at the grey sky and said: ‘Looks like it’s going to rain. We should probably head back.’
‘You’ve never been to one of these things before, have you?‘ Jack exhaled and flashed her another grin. She raised an eyebrow. He continued: ‘The rain is half the fun. Since everyone wants to get out of it, the prices usually go down quickly. It’s nature’s clearance sale.‘
For a second, Rachel had looked puzzled. Then the heavens opened. Under the shelter of the tree, she watched everyone begin to scatter. As she knotted the handles of her bag, Jack finished his roll-up and gestured towards the cars. ‘We’ve got maybe ten minutes until they leave. Let’s make it count.‘
When they stopped in front of a grimy grey Astra with an old guy in an even older trenchcoat standing next to it, Jack had pointed at a cardboard box. Rachel leaned over and stared at it. It was full of old video tapes. They were only a fiver. How could she refuse?
After they’d got back to the flat and changed into dry clothes, they sat around drinking coffee in the lounge for a few minutes until Rachel spotted the old video player below the TV. It had come with the flat. Jack smiled at her: ‘I’d always wondered if it actually works. Guess it’s time to find out.‘
‘So that’s why you spotted the videos.‘ Rachel could have been angry at him. After all, she was the one who had paid a fiver. She’d thought about taking the tapes home at the end of term and using them for quirky Christmas presents. She didn’t realise that Jack had an ulterior motive. Still, she was too curious to really feel angry.
Kneeling next to the damp cardboard box, she found the newest-looking tape. It was Terry Gilliam’s 1998 adaptation of “Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas”. And, to both of their surprise, the chunky tape not only worked – but the machine didn’t even think about chewing it up.
About halfway through the film, there was a scene where the stoned journalist sat at a typewriter in a dingy 1970s hotel room and gave this melancholy speech about the sixties. About how everything had seemed to be going well back then. How it seemed like the world could only get better. Of course, he lamented, it hadn’t lasted. The ’70s had shown up and hippies had gone out of fashion.
‘Oh my god, it’s just like the 1990s‘ Rachel muttered. Jack raised an eyebrow. She continued: ‘Think about it, everything was… brighter… in the ’90s. Everything was so cheerful back then. Surely you remember how… optimistic… it was. And then it all went to hell. Just like in the movie. It’s ahead of it’s time.‘
Jack had just looked puzzled. Rachel shrugged and walked into the kitchen to get a packet of crisps. They crunched through them in silence. When the credits rolled, Rachel pressed the rewind button. As the VCR rumbled and chuntered like a freight train, she said: ‘Another tape?‘
‘Nothing better to do.‘ Jack shrugged as he searched the kitchen for a can of cider. Rachel’s eyes settled on a blank tape. Holding it up, she laughed and said: ‘Mystery tape?‘
‘You know, more than one horror movie has started with something like that.‘ Jack cracked open a can and proffered one to Rachel. Sitting back, he said: ‘If a ghost pops out of the screen to snatch our souls, I’m telling her that it was your fault.‘
‘Deal.‘ Rachel laughed as she put the tape into the machine. After a few seconds of static, an old BBC logo had appeared on the TV before a mid-1990s episode of “Lois & Clark” began. There were two episodes on the tape. By the end, Rachel just gawped at the screen. Jack finished his second can of cider and began rolling another cigarette.
Beside him, Rachel said: ‘Oh my god! Not only did this predict the ridiculous modern obsession with the superhero genre, but it predicted so much more too! That episode where the re-animated Nazis march through the streets of Metropolis and no-one sees it coming until it’s too late. It’s just like that scary thing in America last year.‘
Barely pausing for breath, she continued: ‘Then there was that other episode where that supervillain runs for president and he parrots Trump’s slogan about making America great. And, Lois and Clark make sarcastic comments about it. It’s a really topical joke…. that was made over twenty years ago.‘
Jack just looked at her blankly: ‘It’s a stupid superhero rom-com. Ninety minutes of my life I’ll never get back. Please tell me we’re picking a horror movie next.‘
Smiling, Rachel got to her feet. ‘There are a couple in there. You’ll have to start without me though. I’ve finally thought of an idea for my dissertation proposal!‘