This is the part of the blog where I write about my day for those interested.
After my meeting with Iron Man, I decided I couldn’t rely on the superhero community. I’d just keep my eyes open and continue on as business as usual. I was still waiting on the Justice League to do another decision on nuking the moon, so I started working on a new project: A computer program that could automatically blog humorous political observation for me by simply Googling today’s new stories. It’s an advanced project, but only I have the humor expertise to see it through.
I was interrupted, though, by a call today from my sister in Hollywood. Apparently a major studio had decided to go ahead on my movie idea entitled Ninja Nixon. It’s a reimagining of Nixon’s visit to China with Nixon as a ninja out for revenge. The current tagline is “He’s not a crook… but he is a deadly assassin.” It’s quite a high-concept film, and I’m surprised a major studio approved it.
I told my sister to get in talks with Chow Yun-Fat for the title roll and she told me that she’s a costume designer and that isn’t her job and I told her I don’t care for excuses and hung up the phone. “My dear wife,” I told the harpy watching The View, “do you think we should go to Hollywood to make sure they don’t screw up my movie? If done right, the ideas expressed in this film could change the world.”
“I don’t like California because everyone is weird there and they don’t let you have guns,” she said. “I shoot people who don’t let me have guns.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just pass on my ideas to them, then. Who do you think should play Nixon’s wacky sidekick Henry Kissinger?”
“Um… Bruce Willis.”
I wrote that down. “Good idea. If this movie doesn’t sweep the Academy Awards, such vengeance shall I wreak upon them.”
The doorbell rang, and the dog growled and snarled so much you’d think it was Mexican out there. I opened the door and it was Lieutenant Caine from Miami. “Aww… did you lose your friend,” I laughed in his face.
He took off his sunglasses. “I know your involved with the disappearance of Arthur Curry.”
“Then, when you find his mutilated corpse, can you take a picture so I can frame my work and put it on my office wall?”
He didn’t react. “In a building by the docks where we believe Arthur disappeared, we found sand like substance. Spectral analysis showed us it was actually ground up sea shells we traced to a business in Melbourne. While looking through their customer database, we got an anonymous phone call from someone saying he saw you leaving the docks laughing manically about how you killed Aquaman.”
“In other words, you’ve got jack. Well, keep me updated on your case.” I slammed the door on him.
“Hey, where are my sunglasses!” I heard him yell from outside as I used some tape to put a new pair of sunglasses on the dog. “It’s a felony to take an officer’s sun glasses!”
“I hate these distractions,” I told my wife. “I’m going to work on movie ideas. If you see Dr. Doom, attacking the country, give me a holler.”