corri lade
In Her Own Words
Corri Lade was born in a random town deep in the heart of the South. While Corri was still a small child her parents decided that this backwards town did not hold enough prospects for their sure-to-be talented daughter. The decision was then made to perform a drastic uprooting to another town in the middle of nowhere, except this time in the Midwest. (They had heard that prolonged exposure to corn pollen was linked to early motor skills development)
As young Corri grew, she attempted to make the best of her surroundings, and so was encouraged to use her imagination and entrepreneurial spirit. She made her first break into the world of culinary arts with her world-famous “mud muffins” which were formed out of the rich Iowan soil and Raccoon River water. They were also baked on a swing set slide for no less than 24 hours in the hot summer sun. Also present in this world-class culinary facility was a steep hill where one could hurl rejected products down. After her culinary explorations failed to take hold in the current market, Corri was forced to find an alternate means of income.
Corri then spent a number of years aimlessly wandering the halls of various academic institutions in a state of self-exploration she later deemed “her quest out of the Midwest.” During this time she developed an interest in aquatic activities and extreme sports. She had a near-drowning experience when she attempted to dive into a vat of blackberry yogurt after completing a triple-barrel seesaw back flip from an ATV driven off of a 150 foot trapeze platform. All went well until the final portion of the stunt, in all the safety precautions that had been taken, her stunt coordinators had failed to take into account the viscosity of the yogurt. So once she plunged into the vat she was unable to free herself from the delectable dairy product and rescue crews were called onto the scene to assist her.
Later on in this so-called quest she became vaguely associated with a small group of comedic prodigies that would soon enough become her colleges, friends, and future members of the plucked from obscurity team.
Corri finally completed her quest in 2004, when she struck out on her own to explore the eastern seaboard, even though this meant putting herself in a state of financial ruin for the next few decades. While on this adventure the decision was made for her to attempt to become a mad scientist of sorts, as she hoped to one day be skilled enough to mix small beakers of strange colored bubbling liquid together in order to create spectacular visual effects, but as her chemistry grades turned out to be somewhat sub-par, her first chosen profession was cast off rather quickly. Instead she decided to feign an interest in a future scientific career all the while secretly making the decision to just film random things for the rest of her life.
Corri still occasionally makes reprises in her most famous role of Dharma Lewis for infomercials, telethons, or any other paid positions. She was also recently invited to the Socialist’s Ball where she gave a moving speech about her experiences on the set of Indecency as Stalin.
Corri’s most current project is a reunion with Layd Industries where she is working on the development of a KERNL counterpart that deals strictly with soy beans and soy products.
Nat J. Gruca on the Subject of Corri Lade
Corri Lade. Where should I begin? Firstly, contrary to what one might be inclined to assume, I have no real connection to the person. She is merely a professional accomplice to the films we continue to distribute. Our friendly demeanor and apparent companionship as exemplified in dozens of photos, films and other such projects is merely a façade, an executive decision agreed upon by both parties long ago to instill a sense of camaraderie within the walls of the otherwise faceless corporation of Plucked from Obscurity. Doctored images, widespread myths and entire back stories were sent out into the public to hungrily soak up, all in the hopes of establishing the lie.
With that brought into the open and settled, I can now proceed to discuss the few times I have come in contact with the legend that is Corri Lade. The first time we came in contact with each other was during the meeting our attorneys and agents set up to discuss the final matters of joining together to create what is now known as The Motivated Players subsidiary. True, we had both been prominent shareholders in the once-mighty Plucked from Obscurity Empire, but none of us had ever bothered meeting any of the members of the Council of Highly-Regarded Instigators.
She was late to the meeting, as I would soon find out was her way of keeping the situation deeply planted in the palm of her hand. A few hours passed, and as myself and the gaggle of lawyers and talent agents mingled and waited, the doors finally burst open and a loud trumpeting sound blasted throughout the boardroom.
She arrived perched daintily atop an expensive-looking Ski-Doo, which was odd, because the only water present was located in an impressive fountain, which was by no means large enough to house such a water sport. The Ski-Doo was carried by four burly men wearing exotic loincloths and covered from tanned head to toe in perfumed oils. The men were flanked by hordes of extraordinarily limber Arabian dancers, scantily draped with flowing silks and other gauzy materials.
“Right, what’s the deal? Where’re we at with this bad boy?” she snapped, clapping her hands brusquely, so that the muscled attendants set the Ski-Doo down gently. She remained seated on it.
My people, being trained professionals, were able to keep from flinching, whereas I, being the under-qualified figurehead that I was, burst into nervous tears and ran shrieking from the boardroom. This was my first encounter with her. Things were eventually ironed out, it being said that I suffered from very rare form of Tourettes, and it seemed to please her people for the time being.
The next time we came in contact with each other was on the set of our first film together as a freshly-developed team, Tea-Time with Death. She, of course, was late, entering the studio lot not on a Ski-Doo, but sitting impatiently in an ornately decorated rickshaw, pulled by two of the same bemuscled assistants. Getting out once it had come to a complete stop and giving each man a disapproving wallop with a rolled-up newspaper, she quickly proceeded in a bee-line to the director (the late great Francis Berg, of Sacriligious Malpractice Pirates fame) where she lifted a small wrist, obviously waiting for the film legend to kiss it.
“All right, everyone,” she stated harshly, looking around with a sharp, steely gaze, “I want less gawking and more making of this flick. Let’s hop to it!”
Later I would find that she had opted to have several of her stand-ins appear in the film for her, spending most of her time entertaining guests in her personal trailer. All of her lines were then digitally added into the final cut, so that she would not have to take the risk of being involved in any scene that had the potential of not being used.
From these few yet invigorating encounters with this mysterious character, I have come to the conclusion that the real Corri Lade must be a person of extreme wealth and power, and not someone to be trifled with. I both revere her and fear the individual that is Corri. I continue vicariously making films alongside her in the hopes that I, too, will some day be able to rise to her prestigious level.
Did I mention that her Ski-Doo was gold-plated?
-nat j. gruca
Corri Lade’s Retraction to Nat J. Gruca
Corri Lade and her affiliates would like to print the following retraction to the article “nat j. gruca on the subject of corri lade” which had previously been displayed on the website www.pluckedfromobscurity.com due to its outrageously slanderous and false content.
Corri Lade’s attorneys would like to issue this retraction in the form of a personal statement from Corri Lade, if only to dispel rumors of her being a snooty, no good director/actor and reaffirm the notion that she is in fact a very “hands-on” corporate figurehead.
“I would first like to say that although I must agree upon the fact that the collaboration between one Nat J. Gruca and myself, Corri Lade, was originally arranged by the name-less, face-less, sock-less, and downright poorly dressed upper executives of the Plucked from Obscurity corporate ladder. But I, Corri Lade, must disagree that the entirety of the relationship between myself, Corri Lade, and Nat J. Gruca was entirely falsified. Mr. Gruca and myself, Corri Lade, have developed a very close working relationship over the past years we’ve spent together in the business. Personally I, Corri Lade, and deeply hurt that one such as Nat J Gruca could so easily forget our many late-night chats about the mechanical and structural properties of lime jell-o.
I, Corri Lade, now wish to address some of the more specific accusations made by Nat J. Gruca. First off to assume that I am consistently late to meetings and corporate holiday parties is merely my own way of grabbing the power away from other shareholders is completely off-base. It just so happens that I, Corri Lade, suffer from a very poor sense of direction, I often find myself disorientated in even the most familiar surroundings, it just so happens that PowerPoint presentations and sheet cake set off my symptoms. Although some would question why I don’t rely on my many bronzed assistants to handle the navigational tasks, I must then ask of them, How are they supposed to hold the map while carrying my personal supply of apple juice and fountain pens around? As far as the first meeting between myself, Corri Lade, and the infamous Nat Gruca goes, I believe the whole incident was largely a misunderstanding. I was told that the meeting would be taking place in the “Beach Room” so I thought I would accessorize appropriately, none of my many personal assistants bothered to inform me that the Beach Room was an affectionate nickname for the Johannes Beachenson meeting/ballroom named after the late inventor of the spork. Of course after this embarrassment my assistants were demoted to the task of combing the sand on the beaches of my 17 personal islands in the Mediterranean, an appropriate appointment to serve as a constant reminder of their vast short-comings as personal assistants. As soon as I stepped onto the Tea-Time with Death set it quickly became clear to me that the entire staff was without direction and was also completely lacking in motivation so I took it upon myself to bring those very things to the set. While Nat J, Gruca fooled around in front of the cameras dressed in silly clothing reading off of papers, I took it upon myself to personally monitor the whole set from my trailer, providing direction as I saw fit, but I suppose that my mere presence was enough to whip that cast into shape, for I was allowed with enough free time to hold some much-needed creative planning meetings in my trailer.
I, Corri Lade, would just like to conclude by saying that the accusations made by Nat Gruca have cast me into a deep, deep depression, for I spent many sleepless nights toiling away on our various film projects. I did not work my way out of the poverty-stricken cornfields by selling fried pudding sticks at the state fair by day and hunting rogue opossums for bounty by night to face such grave accusations, especially from one so dear to me. One whom I have lent my muscle-boy, Bam, to on many occasions to pick up his dry cleaning and tangerine-mango juice. One whom I give a year’s supply of tissues to for an annual post-Easter bonus. One whom I have invited into my personal home on many occasions the fix the faulty coil in my toaster. This sort of betrayal can only be expressed in the words of the great Dr. YoHo, philosopher to the stars, “He who takes my lunch money angers me greatly, but he who lingers in the bathroom stall of life for too long will be laughed at for all eternity.”
I must also mention that the Ski-Doo was in fact solid platinum. What kind of idiot could confuse gold with platinum, really?”
Sling Lade: Sling Blade 2
Justin “No E” Milligan here, folks! Do you ever wonder what happened to Karl Childers after getting sent back to the home for the mentally insane in Sling Blade? Well, wonder no further! It turns out that he and Corri have a little side story of their own. And by that I mean a physical relationship. And who better to tell it than Karl himself? I present to you: Karl’s description of his stint with Corri Lade. This interview was conducted by a single reporter with no one else there to take pictures and in a room with very dim lights. Karl requested that no questions were asked.
“Doesn’t matter where I was to be. We’ll always be friends. We made friends right off the bat. Don’t nobody ever change that. Sometimes, we go to Taraccino coffee shop and gets us some coffee. Coffee makes me nervous when I drink it. Mmm hm. Corri makes me nervous sometimes. I ain’t never been with girls before. I reckon I’m gonna have to get used to looking at pretty people like Corri. ‘Reckon I’m gonna have to get used to her lookin’ at me.
Corri makes me biscuits and mustard, sometimes. Not anyone who makes biscuits in the middle of the night. Sometimes we get French fried taters, mm hm. I reckon I had me some of the big’uns. We read books together. Different ones. One of em’s the Bible, one’s a book on Christmas, one’s a book on how to be a carpenter. Sometimes we tell each other jokes. There were these two fellers standin’ on a bridge, a-goin’ to the bathroom. One fellar said, “The water’s cold” and the other feller said, “The water’s deep.” I believe one feller come from Arkansas. Get it?
Relationships are hard. I don’t understand all of it, but I reckon I understand a good deal of it. There was one feller in the hospital who liked talkin’ ‘bout peckers, name was Charles. He liked to make sport of me. Corri was kind, never liked to make sport of me, mm hm. Charles always said that my Corri was a very pretty woman. One day, I was sittin,’ a-waiting’ for Corri to come on and give me my Bible lesson, ya, mm hm. Well I hear the commotion up there in his room, so I run up down the hallway to see what was goin’ on. I see Charles layin’ on top ‘a her. He was havin’ his way with her… mm hm. So I picks up a Kaiser blade that was sittin’ up there by the door, some calls it a sling blade, I calls it a Kaiser blade, and I hit Charles two good whacks in the head with it. That second one just plum near cut his head in two. Corri stands up and says, “Karl! What’d you kill Charles fer, what’d you kill Charles fer?!” Well, mmhm, come to find out I reckon Corri didn’t mind what he was doin’ to her.
I kindly put my arm around Corri, then I got up to leave.
But, unlike my mother, I ain’t killed Corri, mmm hm. I’m ‘a goin’ to an even more nervous hospital so I ain’t be seein’ Corri none no more. Just ‘cause I ain’t gonna be around no more, maybe, don’t mean that I don’t care for you, Corri. She says she’s a come to see me in the nervous hospital sometime but she keeps sayin’ that her car ain’t got no gas init! Anyway, I reckon that’s all you’s needin’ to know. This story ain’t haha queer, funny queer, mmhm.”