Tag: movies

Starfield Of Dreams

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Aliens landed at Ray’s farm and wandered around, looking for cattle to mutilate and asses to probe.
When they found none, they walked up to the farmhouse and knocked on the door.
Ray racked his shotgun and opened it. “What the hell do you fuckers want?”
“We come in peace, blah blah blah,” said the alien commnander. “Didn’t there used to be cattle here?”
“I gave them up,” said Ray. “I built a baseball field and people came from all over to watch ghosts play baseball.”
The aliens thanked Ray, went to the field, and tried to ass-probe a ghost.

Grow

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We only regrow accident victims. We don’t touch terminal diseases.
It’s hard to explain widespread cancer miraculously disappearing. But you can always say they’ve just come out of a coma after taking months to heal their “nonfatal” injuries.
Add a few scars, flash the memory – they’re back.
Now, sometimes the growth-accelerants fail to slow down when halted. We test for that, but sometimes an age spurt kinda kicks in.
As opposed to Peter Pans, who never grow old.
Ever wonder why some child stars die young from drugs or accidents?
Can’t have them living forever.
That’s what reruns are for.

Baroque Bach Mountain

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Johann Sebastian Bach was known for his prowess with a pipe organ.
Johann Cristoph Bach was also a master organist.
Pretty much every Bach was an expert with an organ.
Especially Elton Johann Bach, but I think that’s a different kind of organ, okay?
Elton would frequently vanish to the Schwarzwald mountains with a rather dark friend for fishing trips.
He never did catch any fish, but he caught plenty of diseases.
On his final trip, his brothers showed up at the cabin.
They saw everything.
“Why?” they asked.
“Once you go Black Forest,” Elton wheezed, “you never go back.”

Unlicensed to kill

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Bond’s license to kill was revoked last year because he shot too many bartenders who stirred his martini.
“I said shaken, dammit!” he’d shout. “Shaken!”
Three warnings later, he was disarmed for the good of mixologists around the world.
“What do I do now?” growled Bond as his trademark Walther PPK was returned to the gun vault.
“Run really fast,” said the controller. “Or call the cops.”
Assigned to spy on Taleban slavelords, Bond lasted seventeen hours in the field. He was last seen dialing 999 on his bowtie cellphone as three midget ninjas carved him into itty bitty pieces.

Shouting

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Jerry tried to think of worse things to shout in a movie theater than “Fire!” He ran down the list in his notebook, shouting each one.
The theater owner didn’t appreciate his field research and banned him from the theater.
Never one to give up easily, he tried other theaters, but his face was on a printout at the box office.
So he went from town to town, but the theater chains caught on to his act.
Jerry became a master of disguise, using false noses and wigs and sunglasses to alter his appearance.
Eventually, the worst word became “JERRY!”

Fish Tale

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I design the costumes for a big movie studio’s theme park.
When a movie comes out, I turn the characters into live-action performers, walking around and posing for photos.
Pirates, cats, dogs, mice… I’ve made them all.
Ever since I heard a fish movie was in the works, I lost sleep.
How do you dress like a fish?
I finally came up with an idea: the performer’s head is in a fish-shaped mask. His body is a pedestal, holding up the fishbowl his head is in.
The guy put it on. It worked.
Until he filled the bowl with water.

Zorro

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Every society has its zorro, a man who rises up and fights for the people.
In Zambia, he is known as Paktuku, Defender of the Wells, and he is armed with a golden spear.
In Estonia, he is Gabt, a mighty one-armed woodsman with a gnarled axehandle.
In Paraguay, the zorro has no name that is spoken aloud, but the people hint of “He who glides like a feather.”
But compared to all the other zorros of the world, I like the sissy in the black cloak and sword the best. Maybe it’s the big black horse he rides around.

Stupid Girl

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The sky turned black and roared.
“Everyone! Cellar!” shouted Henry to his wife and niece.
They ran to the storm shelter, but their niece was gone.
“Where is that stupid girl?” growled Henry.
Emily spotted her running in the yard. “She’s chasing that damned dog,” she said.
Henry yelled, but the winds drowned him out.
“I’m going back,” he said.
“No, you’re not!” yelled Emily, slamming the shelter door.
The winds roared louder, then a crash.
Finally, silence.
Henry slowly opened the door.
“See her?” asked Emily.
“Yup,” said Henry. “Tornado tossed her through a tree.”
“Stupid girl,” muttered Emily.

You’re Not Kong

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The gigantic squid crawled through the streets of Manhattan, dragging a bored blonde beauty in one of its slimy tentacles.
“It just isn’t the same,” she said. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just me.”
The gigantic squid stopped and clacked its beak.
“I don’t have anything against squid in particular,” said the woman. “I admire your radial symmetry and your color-shifting skills. But it’s just that ever since I had that little fling with Kong, I just can’t see myself with anything different than a gigantic simian.”
She and the gigantic squid parted ways. They wrote for a while, then nothing.

Housebroken

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Frosty the snowman told his wife Krystal that he didn’t want a dog.
Krystal insisted. “We need him for security,” she said.
“Dogs are messy things,” said Frosty. “And they make snow yellow.”
Frosty lost. They got the dog.
“Stupid dog,” mumbled Frosty.
Frosty tried to housebreak the thing, but it kept falling asleep in front of the fireplace and melting all over the carpet.
“Your dog wet the carpet again,” said Krystal.
“My dog?”
Frosty sighed, held up one of the dog’s coal eyes, and pointed it at the wet spot.
“Look what you did!” shouted Frosty. “Bad doggy!”