Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Ladies and Gentlemen: Sir Nate Torrence

There are a select few actors in Hollywood who command multi-millions per film. They are the elite. The best of the best. Producers know that even though the script might be garbage (see: Collateral), or that the director might be a child molesting coke addict (see: Man of Fire), these actors can and will cause the film to make a profit. Because they are the elite. Their names transcend both space and time. Their mere presence on the screen causes women to swoon, gods to be created, and kingdoms surrender to their eternal glory. They are Jack Nicholson. They are Robert DeNiro.

They are Toms, Cruise and Hank.
They are Denzel Washington and Brad Pitt.
They are the elite.
The best of the best.

Ladies and Gentlemen, let me unleash upon you the next actor to join that exclusive list. The English--who knighted him several years ago--know him as Sir Nate Torrence. But the rest of the world will know him by another name:


Nate Torrence was destined, from birth, to be one of the greatest actors in human--or any other kind of life form's--history. He was born in a quaint hospital in Canton, Ohio, under the supervision of Dr. Kenneth Noisewater, the same doctor who delivered both Leonardo DiCaprio and George Clooney. By age three, young Nate was already reciting lines of Hamlet, which annoyed his mother to no end--especially at dinner parties when he would approach her and say "Lady, may I lie in your lap. I mean, my head upon your lap. Do you think that I meant country matters?" Nate was scolded, and was told that Shakespeare was like Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny. He didn't exist. Young Nate was undeterred.

By age eleven, Nate was already drawing comparisons to Marlon Brando, having had the lead in the school play locked up for seven years straight (the principal was considering moving him up, to the sixth graders play--Nate was that good--but he didn't). But one night, one fateful night, Nate's mother walked into his room to find him acting out one of the less-than-hetero parts of Milton's Comus on his favorite stuffed animal--a bear named Mr. Twinkle Britches. He was banned from acting, and his mother forced upon him competitive trampoline gymnastics, which he also excelled in--winning multiple national championships in a span of a couple of years. But Moose would charge (or whatever a moose does, charge? trot? stampede? slowly meander?) on.

So fed up with life, gymnastics, and acting, he fled from home at age sixteen. After years of living in a cottage in New Hampshire, writing a twelve act play about snails, Moose reappeared on the acting landscape.

Who is Moose Torrence? He's rugged. Deviant. Moose doesn't stay tied to one project. No sir-ee. That's why he's guest starred on hit shows such as "Las Vegas," "House MD," "Quintuplets," and "Malcolm in the Middle," delivering All-Universe performances in the roles of Private Turner, Pizza Guy, Moviegoer, and Keith.

Who is Nate "Moose" Torrence? He's the strapping young blond who defies the evil David Spade in those Capital One "No!" Commercials. Determined enough to risk certain death for a Roy Williams Cowboys jersey (when he could just go to NFL.com and get one). Powerful enough to yell like a madman in that VW Bug commercial. Portly enough to make audiences actually think that taking an enterprise rent-a-car to a high school reunion--I mean come on, an enterprise rent-a-car to a high school reunion--is not only a good idea, but the only choice available if you want all those stupid hot chicks who would never make eye contact with you during high school to stop their materialistic and mundane lives and think "Hey: this guy is the balls!" He's just that good.

Tom Cruise. Brad Pitt. Nate "Moose" Torrence.

Get used to it.

Feech. out.


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