When Kathrine arrived on set, she was pissed.
“Why are there elves, knights, zombies, elephants, strippers, piñatas, ghosts, conquistadors, clowns, aliens, hot air balloons, ninjas, and Mel Gibson here? What happened to the Nazi storm troopers and decaying dead bodies? I thought that this was a film about the atrocities of World War II?” she asked.
“We wrote another draft,” I said. “It’s now a fantasy film set in the Middle Ages. I thought Dillon told you.”
“That’s it!” she replied. “I’m pulling the plug on this project.”
“But you already spent $430 million on advertising costs alone. The studio will be pissed.”
“James, you listen here,” Kathrine continued. “Do not go behind my back again. I will put you back on the streets.”
She stormed off. I walked up to Pee-Wee.
“What’s on the schedule for today Pee-Wee?” I asked.
“Today we’re shooting the scene where the hero and villain are jousting to save the princess…with their penises.”
So I grabbed a coffee before I started the morning meeting with the cast and crew. Dillon showed up strung out and agitated.
“I got to talk to you about the script,” he told me.
“When the princess says ‘you saved me’, the hero has to blast ropes all over her right then, or else he’s just blowing his wad too soon.”
“Dillon,” I said. “We talked about this. The hero has to blast ropes all over the villain. That’s how he defeats him. Or else the script just doesn’t make sense!”
“Well I can’t direct this film if you’re not giving me the creative freedom to do my job?”
“So are you walking?”
And just like that, Dillon was out of the picture. The cast and crew stood around, waiting for direction.
I looked over to the two male leads.
“Welp, Bill (Shatner) and Chris (Pratt),” (But not THOSE Bill Shatner and Chris Pratt). “Whip them dicks out! We’re behind schedule!”