Caesar

Caesar approaches The Roman Senate.
Cimber presents him with a petition, but he slaps it away.
Cimber growls and rips the dictator’s tunic.
Caesar stares, muscles rippling.
A mighty fist lashes out, Cimber goes sprawling.
Casca pulls a knife. The Senate gasps as he raises it.
Caesar kicks! The knife flies away. Then with a roundhouse kick, Casca follows.
“GET HIM!” shouts Brutus, and they all attack.
One by one, Caesar kicks, punches, and chops his way through the Senate, defeating them all.
“CUT!” shouts the director.
He calls the producer. “I think we made a mistake casting Chuck Norris.”

It’s a thin line between love and hate

It’s a thin line between love and hate.
How thin is it?
Well, are you familiar with John Waters’ mustache?
Yes, the guy who did Hairspray and Cecil B. Demented. You know that thin black mustache he has?
Yes? Good. Okay, well, it’s about that thin.
Oddly enough, it’s also rather thin in terms of how sparse it is some days.
Which is why John Waters has to fill it in with an eyeliner pencil sometimes.
Because when it comes to his movies, you either love them or you hate them.
And for convenience, his mustache makes a handy reference.

Silence

When I first saw “Soylent Green” I watched it with my mute pal Bobby Greene and said “Hey, that’s about you… Soylent Green, Bobby Greene?”
Bobby flapped his hands at me, but I never learned any of that sign language crap.
“Write it down, jackass,” I growled, and he picked up a steno pad and scribbled out FUCK YOU in big letters.
We watched the rest of the movie, Edward G. Robinson dies and Charlton Heston finds out the secret about Soylent Green.
YUCK wrote Bobby.
So, I killed him. Cooked and ate him too.
Hey, Soylent Greene is delicious!

Third Thumb

I once heard of a psychic claiming they had a “third eye.”
Well, then I must have a “third thumb.”
You see, I’m a movie critic. The Celluloid Spy.
And I’m afraid of the dark.
Yeah, I hire mailroom interns to stand in for me at movie screenings.
My trademark trenchcoat, fedora, and fake beard make sense now, right?
So, when you wonder if the critic saw the same movie did, you’re right: I didn’t.
But here’s the creepy thing. I’ve been accurate in my plot synopses and ratings.
Stupid kid, getting hit by that truck.
Never saw that coming.

The last ticket

The woman at the ticket counter smiled, handed me the ticket, and then drew down a shade with CLOSED printed on it.
The line was long and the groans of frustration were loud.
Some asked me how much I wanted for my ticket.
Others wanted to see the ticket, but I was afraid they’d steal it.
I was surrounded: people making offers, begging for me to take their children with me.
I ran for the door, handed my ticket to the usher, and he tore off the stub.
Damn these exclusive Harry Potter movie premieres! Can’t they open more screens?

River City

The conman broke into the library at night to do his research on the town.
Henry Hill may have been an awful music teacher, but he was brilliant when it came to the field of meteorology.
Studying the flood records, he calculated the perfect window in which to roll out his music lessons scam.
The final parade would coincide with the biggest storm of the season and massive flooding.
Henry put his notes in his pocket and went to the librarian’s desk.
Nice perfume, he thought. But he was strictly business on his scams…
Oh, such a pretty name… Marian.

The Siege of Oz

Before the Wizard floated off and Dorothy vanished, the Scarecrow, Tinman, and Lion swore to rule Oz with intelligence, compassion, and bravery.
Instead, they spent their time bickering and fighting.
The Lion became foolhearty. Barroom brawls ruined his once-magnificent pelt, making him that much more sullen and angry, drinking more, fighting more.
The Tinman was overly compassionate, giving away everything in the Treasury.
The Scarecrow, stuck with the balance sheets, yelled “Damn you both!”
The leaderless Winged Monkeys and Witch Castle Guards received news of this chaos.
They marched on Emerald City, ready to overthrow the misguided and incompetent triumvirate.

Muppets

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It’s been a while since you heard anything out of the Muppets, right?
Oh, sure. Jim Henson’s Workshop carries on, but when you ask about the Muppets, they hush up quick.
It turns out they tried to make a movie about the Sicilian Mafia: The Godfrogger.
After watching a preview copy, a boss named Don Music wasn’t amused at his portrayal as a failed songwriter bashing his head against a piano.
Fozzie ended up as a bearskin rug on his floor.
Kermit got skinned and stretched over a pool table.
Poor Gonzo. Tasted like the chickens he loved so much.

Batsignal

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I think we need to talk about the Batsignal again, Gordon.
There’s the issue with what merits a Batsignal.
Two Face threatening to blow up a building is a Yes.
Goons robbing a bank is a No. You have SWAT for that, right?
Your crazy daughter Barbara wanting me to read a bedtime story is a Hell No.
And I can’t see it during the day. The Joker and Penguin have changed their capering schedules.
Can’t you just SMS my BatPhone, dude?
Now nod your head like you understand what I said or I’m throwing you off the fucking roof.

Scarecrow

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After Dorothy slew the Wicked Witch and Scarecrow was crowned as King Of Oz to rule in place of the departing Wizard, the sharpness of the tacks in his head didn’t always lead to the brightest of decisions.
Time brings rust, after all.
He was hailed when he was wise.
He was vilified for his foolish times.
So he enjoyed the times when he was hoisted on shoulders and led through Emerald City in a parade.
And he learned to hide when angry mobs wanted to burn him in effigy.
“They might mistake me for the dummy again,” he whispers.