Friday, April 25, 2014

Congratulatins Tiny Actor!

When you see him walking out of the room your heart will clench with rage.  From his trademark Dinklage swagger to his trademark Dinklage talent, that fiend, that foul hellion, that burst of acting prowess shoved into such a minute frame will show himself and the moment you see him you'll know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you won't get this role.

So you'll take a minute, think about what you're doing, and take a calculated risk.  There are two ways this can go.  You can go in there, act your ass off, and let the casting director know that while you are no Peter Dinklage, you're not awful, and you'll work for considerably less.  Or you can flip Peter Dinklage the bird and say "Hey Tyrion.  Fuck you."

You'll go with the latter.

Dinklage will laugh it off as he walks out the building and goes home to have victory sex with his wife, who is way hotter than anyone you, anyone else in that room, or anyone involved with the writing of this piece, has ever had sex with.

Try not to have a rage-stroke when security escorts you from the building and you're told not to come back on the Paramount lot for at least a month or two.

Congratulations Tiny Actor!

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Congratulations Dumb Waiter!

When you walk up to the table and let a fart rip, you won't even have the good grace to act embarrassed.  Instead you'll roll your eyes and say, with that smug look on your face:

"What do you tardfucks want to eat at this shitbox?"

The man at the table will stand up, sputtering.

"Well I never!" he'll announce to the room, which will only happen to include you in this instance.  "As the mayor of this town, I refuse to tolerate such outrageous behavior from a service-person at a fine dining establishment!"

"Harumph!" his wife will announce in concurrence, throwing the entire room into a symphony of concurrent harumphs.  You'll be pulled off the floor by the shift manager, who will take you back to his office and tell you that you're fired.  He'll try to keep you from shitting on his desk and leaving out the back alley, explaining that every patron in the restaurant will be waiting out there to kick your ass, but you won't listen.  You'll be too busy shouting about how Coldplay rules to even hear what he's saying.

After you finish your shit and head outside, you'll be genuinely surprised when you're hit in the face with a bike chain.  You'll be just as surprised by the tire iron in your kidney, the hammer in the back of your skull, and so on, and so forth, until finally, hoarse from shouting "Zep rules!" at your assailants, they give up on teaching you a lesson and go back inside to enjoy a fully comped dinner, courtesy of your appalling manners.

Congratulations Dumb Waiter!

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Congratulations Failed Comedy Troupe Member!

Tonight is the final show of your terribly named and not very funny comedy troupe, The Chucklenauts (wittily skewered in a write-up in Time Out New York as "The Chuckle-Nots").  It'll be the final show because you're awful, and because your teammates, who are just mediocre, will decide that they no longer want to be seen with you in public.  It'll be a tough break for you, but take heart!  When you started this comedy troupe, it wasn't about humor or being on stage; it was about being internet famous, and today, while walking home from your last show ever, you're going to accidentally accomplish your goal.

See, while walking you're going to cut into a blind alley and, sure enough, a serial killer will be in there, waiting for someone to walk through so he can take them back to his Flaying Palace and rape them to death.  This particular serial killer, The Skin Thief Bandit Dude (he's bad at serial killer names), will be just hours away from being caught by the police, so you'll be discovered in a few hours hanging from a meat hook, pants around your ankles as The Skin Thief Bandit Dude buttfucks you to the tune of Seal's "Kiss from a Rose."  One of the cops raiding the site will be recording the whole thing with a GoPro and, following his dismissal the next day for unprofessional conduct, he'll post the clip to the internet.  Within hours, you'll be a viral internet sensation.

You'll never walk again, and you'll need years of psychological treatment and counseling before you're able to perform the most basic tasks again, but when you finally regain your faculties, you'll be unbelievably proud of your furtive, accidental fame.  In the end, this will be all you really wanted and, upon realizing you've achieved your goal, you'll weep for a few moments.  Then you'll go about reading the comments on each version of the video and responding to internet trolls whenever they get something wrong or insult your comedy troupe, cementing your position as the one person in the world who deserved to be captured, raped, and killed by The Skin Thief Bandit Dude.

Congratulations Failed Comedy Troupe Member!

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Congratulations Willow Smith!

Today you're Willow Smith, and you will, for a brief period of time, move outside of the core consciousness of America.

You will, during these moments, be permitted to exist as a child for the first time in your life, unobserved, hopeful, resplendent with promise.  You will not be pressed into some sort of media schema by your besieged mother or you insane father, whose mind, ravaged by fame, will no longer recognize the importance of allowing a little girl to be, for a few moments of her life, a little girl.

Perhaps you will sit quietly and read during this time, or perhaps you will watch television programs with an eye for cute boys.  Perhaps you'll ride a bike.  Perhaps you'll do any of the things a normal thirteen your old girl does with her life for a change, like get your period for the first time, or quietly ponder what adulthood will hold, instead of being hurled to and fro by the madness of adults who simply lacked the temerity to give you a chance to find your own path in a safe, quiet space, outside of the public eye.

We'd love to tell you what you're doing, because that would be a big get, what with the media blackout, but we honestly don't know.  We just hope you enjoy it, because tomorrow you're going to go back to your old life, which involves some pretty straight up weird shit, ranging from trying to talk your way around the low key sexual lyrics in your songs to explaining that you aren't going to grow up into a maladjusted monster just because you've been living under public scrutiny since your birth.  Enjoy this brief, furtive opportunity to be a person, if only for a day.

Congratulations Willow Smith!

Monday, April 21, 2014

Congratulations Super Offensive X-Man!

Back in the 70s, there were some pretty offensive X-Men.  Hippylocks was a dirty hippy who could immobilize foes with her body odor.  Racist Man could become really racist against any group of people and, channeling that power, exert authority over those peoples based on his whiteness.  Jewey Mc Jew Jew could do taxes super well.  But all of these heroes, offensive as they were, existed in a different time, and were really only offensive against one group of people, or one group of people at a time, in the case of Racist Man.

You, on the other hand, are offensive to a whole bunch of people.  You're a brand new X-Man, named Twist, and, starting today, you're going to upset comic book fans almost as much as anything Brian Michael Bendis has ever done.

See, your powers involve being really gay, and making other people think gay thoughts just by being in a room.  The first issue you appear in will involve you outing Gambit, and making Wolverine bi-curious.  Sales will drop tremendously, but Bendis, will insist on pressing forward, shouting "This is important!" at anyone who tries to talk him out of it over and over and over again.

You'll upset both gay rights groups, who will be offended by just about every element of your charater, and anti-gay groups, who will feel threatened that you, despite your overarching offensiveness, are uniformly accepted by the other X-Men, the same way people are generally accepting of that one insanely self-consciously gay friend who seems to be just trying to find him or herself.  In fact, many of your later storylines will focus on you realizing that no one really cares that you're gay, and that you're alright just the way you are.  Once these resolve, you'll be killed by Magneto when he crushes you with a giant girder, in what Marvel will broadly advertise as "the event that fans have been waiting for."  Gay rights groups will protest the issue a little, but they won't try very hard.  Their hearts won't be in it; you're a very annoying character.

Congratulations Super Offensive X-Man!