1. A McDonald's in my house
This is how Richie Rich ends...
(poor kids hoist Macaulay Culkin up on their rickets-riddled poor-kid shoulders)
Richard Rich Sr: Now our son really is the richest boy in the world.
Regina Rich: (grins stupidly/knowingly) He has friends.
This is how Richie Rich should have ended...
(poor kids hoist Macaulay Culkin up on their rickets-riddled poor-kid shoulders)
Richard Rich Sr.: Now our son really is the richest boy in the world.
Regina Rich: (grins stupidly/knowingly) He has friends.
Richard Rich Sr.: And now that he has friends, he won't be needing that McDonald's he has upstairs.
Regina Rich: True, true. We should probably give it to Amber.
Richard Rich Sr.: Indubitably! Cadbury, wrap up Richie's McDonald's and send it to Amber in California. You see, Richie has no use for the thing. He has friends now.
(freeze-frame on me in my living room, high-fiving a Big Mac)
The person who decided that Richie Rich was going to have a McDonald's in his house should be teaching a master course in product placement--it's totally blatant here but also just a really cool character detail. The funny thing is that I never wanted any of the other crap Richie had (the mansion, the kid-a-pult, the manservant, the FRIENDS!). I only wanted that McDonald's. Of course, I hadn't thought about any of the logistics. Where would the employees live? Where would they sleep? Eat? Would they have hopes, dreams, etc.?
2. A blank check
I never even saw this movie but, as an 11-year-old, the trailer was enough to get that little hamster wheel in my brain spinning, just dreaming up ways to use that blank check. In the trailer (and I guess in the movie as well) some bad bald guy asks "Preston Waters" how he was able to spend $1,000,000 in 6 days. The movie was released in 1994 and by 2010 standards, that's a stupid question. $1,000,000 is barely enough to buy two pairs of jeans.* But you know, I think it was kind of a stupid question back then too.
3. Swim in a vault of gold doubloons
I'm no physicist but from what I understand about mass, density, velocity, and whatnot, this isn't possible. And then there's this whole other level of impossibility that has to do with acquiring all of those gold doubloons. This being said, my mother always told me that with a little perseverance I could climb the highest mountain (both literally and metaphorically) and be anything that I wanted to be. Well, I wanted to be (and still want to be) a person with a vault full of gold doubloons who then swims around in those gold doubloons. So Booyah! That crap's gonna happen! How ya like me now?**
4. A train that I could ride around my house
Silver Spoons was like a live-action version of Richie Rich (before Macaulay Culkin's live-action Richie Rich existed) and Rick Schroder's character had this train that he and his man-child father would ride around their house. Looking back, this is the stupidest thing that I wanted when I was a kid. Sure, it might have been fun for like a day, but I can't imagine using it for longer than that. First of all, it goes way too slow. Like 1/2 MPH. You could walk from one room to the next in less time than it would take this train to make the journey. Second of all, anyone sitting on a tiny train--even a baby--just looks like an a-hole. And third of all, I don't even like trains that much. So, you know, what's the point, right? Wanting this was kind of like my Veruca Salt moment--nothing more than a bratty, knee-jerk reaction to seeing something that I didn't have.
*I'm bad at math and my mom buys all of my clothes.
** This is the first time that I've ever typed the phrase, "how ya like me now." It felt good, though. It was cathartic.
