Stay with me Kowolski
The name “Kowalski” carries a curse so profoundly absolute that simply uttering it anywhere near an 80s cop movie causes the poor devil to instantly perish.
“Hey Kowalski, how’s your last week before retirement going?” Dead.
“Hey Kowalski, I hear you’re getting married!” Dead.
“Hey Kowalski, your daughter just got into college!” Dead.
It didn’t matter what the news was. The sheer warmth of the announcement was directly proportional to the terminal speed of the outcome. Kowalski was cinema’s own early warning system — a man so consistently, reliably unfortunate that the genre eventually stopped bothering to explain it and simply accepted it as a cosmic law of nature.
Now, Kowalski was never what one might call the sharpest tool in the box — in fact, he was barely a blunt spoon floating in a soft drawer — but frankly, the man deserved a bit more screen time before his inevitable, cinematic doom.
So here he stands. Well before marriage. Light-years away from a comfortable pension. Hovering in the absolute prime of his career.
And yet still managing to bark up the entirely wrong tree.