I first watched the film Predator with friends in my early teens. I thought the alien hunter was the coolest thing I’d seen: those wrist blades, those jaws, the shoulder cannon… The other boys didn’t seem as bothered, but I thought: “Ah, man! I want to be Predator.”
Over the years, more Predator films came out. I watched them hundreds of times. I tried to make my own Predator suit, sculpting clay into a mould and covering it in PVC. It was a mess so I chucked the lot in the bin and thought nothing but the real thing would do. I searched for years for a Predator suit. It was hopeless.Then, when I was on eBay one day, looking for a Guy Fawkes mask, up pops a life-sized Predator suit. The owner was another superfan from London and a special-effects artist had custom-built a suit for the man’s body. It was lucky we were the same height and build. He could easily have been a fat Predator, waddling around his bedroom.
I got the suit home, tried it on. I loved it! I wore it to do my shopping in Tesco, wheeling a trolley, picking up groceries dressed as Predator. It was midday and there were a few looks. Since then I’ve just put it on in my bedroom.
I’ll really miss the suit but I’m buying a house and can do with the money. My partner says she’s sad to see it go. She’s not a sci-fi fan though, more into chick flicks and horrors. When I first showed her the suit she was like “Holy Christ!” I make her watch the films with me, but somehow I don’t think she’s as passionate.
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