The Players: Producer 1, Producer 2, Tori Spelling, Tori Spelling’s Rack of Beef with a Thumprint aka Tori’s Boobs

INT. 90210 PRODUCTION OFFICE – HOLLYWOOD – DAY

Two Producers pick at their miso salads, fiddle with their iPhones and worry about the budget for the new 90210.

PRODUCER 1: The wax budget is way over estimates. I mean, I knew it would be high going in, what with the CW “No Hair, Anywhere” mandate, but this is outrageous!

PRODUCER 2: We could make them just shave?

P1: Are you insane? Have you ever looked at a browline on HD?

P2: Why would I have ever looked at a browline on HD?

P1: This is why you’ll never be Producer 1. Alright, so where can we take some money from other areas?

P2: Oh, I know, we could take some from the Doherty Emergency Fund.

P1: SHHHHHH!!! Are you nuts, man! She could have this place bugged! One whiff of relaxation on that girl and she could take us all down. I swear, if that pyscho bitch wasn’t flat out BRINGING IT in dailies, I’d strangle her with my iPhone charger wire.

P2: You know, we are due to bump Tori’s salary. We could just… not.

P1: That… that is flat brillz, kid! You may yet make a fine Producer. OK, let’s bring the potato face in and drop the news. And when we do, try not to laugh directly at her. $50k an episode for Tori Spelling??? And they say there’s no humor left in the world.

A few minutes later…

Tori Spelling walks in. The average hotness in the room drops by 2.5 LA points.

TORI SPELLING: Hey guys! So good to see you. Before we get started, I just wanted to thank you for being so great and producing such a wonderful show. My father would be really proud.

P1: Thanks, Tori! We appreciate it. Don’t know why your Dad would like a teen soap opera, but I guess if you’re in it, he has to, right?

TS: Well, guys, my dad is Aaron Spelling.

P1: …

P2: …

P1: Is he, like, an accountant, or something?

TS: No, he was Aaron Spelling. He produced the original version of the show. He also did The Love Boat and Charlie’s Angels.

P2: Oh, I love that movie. Lucy Lui gets my noodle stiff. … that was an Asian joke.

TS: The show, not the movie.

P2: There was a show of that?

TS: Yes, back in the 70′s.

P2: There was TV in the 70′s? So… That 70′s Show wasn’t a joke, then? I’m so confused. Here I thought Ashton Kutcher was creating that role from his own genius mind, but now I see he was just reading a script. Well that blows. Ashton Kutcher… just an actor. I don’t… ugh! My day is fucking shot.

P1: Alright everybody, let’s all just calm down. Ashton is still fantastic and dreamy and Tori, I’m sure your Dad was a fine producer. Let’s get down to business.

TS: Yes, please. Dean’s at home with the new baby and I want to get home early for some family time.

P1: That’s very sweet. You’re a truly wonderful Mother. We’ll try to get you out of here real quick. So we’re here today to talk about your salary.

TS: Yes, I believe we had a verbal agreement to match Jenni and Shannen’s salary.

P1: That we did.

TS: And I know they’re making about $50k an episode, where as I’m only making $20k. So I’d like a raise, as per our deal.

P1: No.

TS: Excuse me?

P1: No. Sorry, we won’t be paying you that extra money.

TS: But, but you owe it to me. You said!

P1: I say a lot of things, but I don’t thing I’d ever say yes to paying you $50,000 per episode. That’s insanity.

TS: We had a deal!!! You’re supposed to match my salary!

P2: Ah, but you see, we are. Tori, we’re only paying Shannen $20k, the other 30 is for a Disaster Relief Fund.

TS: Aww, you’re giving money to charity in her name?

P2: No, we’re the Disaster Relief Fund. It’s in case she tears the set down, or suffocates someone with a Craft Service veggie platter.

TS: That doesn’t sound right.

P1: And with Garth, well, she’s a blonde, she doesn’t know numbers very well. She thinks 20 IS 50.

TS: I’m blonde, what’s that supposed to mean? That I’m dumb?

P1: …

P2: …

P1: Look, we’re just telling you the “facts”.

TS: With all due respect, that sounds weird to me. I’m gonna call them and get the truth.

She dials Jennie Garth.

JENNIE GARTH: Hello, this is Jennie Garth, how can I help you?

TS: Jennie, hey, it’s Tori!

JG: Who?

TS: Tori! Tori Spelling?

JG: Peter, is that you? Are you playing a joke on me? You know I don’t find that gag funny anymore. Now I’m gonna have bad dreams tonight!

TS: Jennie, this isn’t your loser husband. It’s TORI!

JG (with fake Spanish accent): Oh. Um… sorry, no habla ingles!

TS: Jennie, you were just speaking English.

JG (with fake Spanish accent): No Jennie Garth here. Bye bye now.

TS: What the heck is going on? I’ll try Shannen.

P2: Oh God, here we go…

P1: I wish I had told my wife that I loved her, this morning.

Tori dials Shannen Doherty. The temperature in the room suddenly drops 10 degrees.

SHANNEN DOHERTY: I WILL GIVE YOU THE EBOLA VIRUS BY SPITTING IN YOUR EAR, GOOD HELL, WHAT BITCH??????

TS: Um… hey, hi, Shannen. Didn’t mean to disturb you. Just wanted to ask you a quick question.

Beat.

SD: Aw, of course, sweetie. I’m always here for you. What do you need?

TS: I’m here with the producers, and-

SD: Are those rascals giving you a hard time. Such pishers!

TS: I know, right? Ha ha! Well, we’re having a discussion about my salary; I’m supposed to be making the same amount as you and Jennie, and they’re telling me I am, but it doesn’t sound like it.

SD: Oh, honey, sorry no, you’re not making as much as Jenni. We’re making the same, though. More than half my reported salary goes to pay the insurance agency, in case I tear the set down, or suffocate someone with a Craft Service veggie platter. …still working on my anger issues, you see.

TS: But shouldn’t I be making as much as Jenni.

SD: Oh, babe, absolutely not. You’re ugly and lame and nobody cares that you’re on the show.

TS: I thought you were supposed to be working on your anger issues.

SD: I’m not angry, just telling the truth. If I was angry, I’d tell you to cook a fucking turkey burger with that meat slab you call your tits and don’t forget to put some extra cheese on that shit. But look, love, I have to run. The valet is taking longer than 15 seconds to bring me my car so I need to stick my house keys into is right kidney. Kisses!

TS: I just don’t understand. I’m Tori Spelling. I’m Donna Martin. I’m worth the money.

P1: No, you’re not.

TS: I have two best selling books.

P2: Books? Yeah, I don’t… know what that is.

TS: I have a hit reality show on Oxygen, for goshsakes!

P1: Oxygen? What is that? Like, a new show on ABC? What time slot?

TS: No, it’s a cable network.

P2: On American Cable? It’s not one of those Japanese Game Shows? I like seeing people fall down!

TS: It’s a burgeoning American Cable Network! And the season finale of my hit show just broke ratings records. We got a .6!!!! I am a beautiful, talented actress. I’m a star!

P2: You’re a fugly Mom with shaky dialogue skills on a foreign cable Reality show.

P1: That being said, we love having you on the show! You’re doing a great job.

Beat.

TS: I quit.

P2: We’re very sorry to hear that. It’s been great working with you. All the best to your Dad.

TS: He’s dead.

P2: …awkward. Love to your Mom, then!

TS: We’re not speaking at the moment.

P2: Youch.

TS: You guys are horrible! I bet you wouldn’t treat Tiffani Thiessen like this!

P1: OMG! Did she say something about me? Does she think I’m cute! Cause I will divorce my wife for Tiffani in a second, I swear it!

P2: Think we can get her on the show now that we have some extra salary money?

P1: Kid, now you’re thinking like a Producer!

TS: Doesn’t anybody love Tori Spelling?

Bangarang!

The Players: Producer 1, Producer 2, Shannen Doherty, the right side of Shannen Doherty’s face and one centimeter higher, the left side.

INT. 90210 PRODUCTION OFFICE – HOLLYWOOD – DAY

Two Producers sip lattes, type on their Blackberry’s and look at headshots of the original cast of Beverly Hills, 90210.

PRODUCER 1: I say we bring them all back. The fans would love it!

PRODUCER 2: I say you’re an idiot and fuck the fans! Besides, it’s not even possible. We can’t lift the network ban on Priestley and Luke Perry is too busy doing Hallmark Channel movies.

P1: Ian Ziering is available.

P2: Does he still have the mullet?

P1: You know it, but don’t worry we can flat-iron it down to a Jewfro. That look is in!

P2: Is he still married to that hot Playmate?

P1: No, she dropped his mullet-y ass. But kept the last name, if you can believe it.

P2: If he can’t bring her by the set for me to harass, then forget it.

P1: What about the B.A.G.?

P2: Are you nuts? He’s not coming back! If you were starring in a kick ass action show and going home to Megan Fox every night would you agree to come back to the 9er on The CW and make out with Tori Spelling again?

P1: Sorry, what? I stopped paying attention after you said “Megan Fox”. The B.A.G. must be packin something major. (sigh)

P2: So who else is left?

P1: Gabs Carteris

Producer 2 vomits in his mouth a little.

P2: I just vomited in my mouth a little.

P1: So it’s just gonna be Jenni and Tori, then?

Pause.

P2: …make the call.

P1: No.

P2: Yes.

P1: But why?

P2: Do you seriously think we can get away with remaking 90210 and NOT have her in it? We gotta bunch a kids on our show, totally fuckable, but who gives a shit about them? We got Lori Loughlin, easily the homeless person’s Heather Locklear. And Rob Estes isn’t setting the world on fire. 90210 IS the old cast! And if you think for one goddamn second that today’s audience will stomach Tori Spelling for 44 minutes every week than you’re dumber than a Jerry O’Connell sitcom. Girl’s got a face like a down syndrome-y Walrus.

P1: But sir, I mean, we can’t. She’s…. she’s… she’s evil, sir!

P2: She’s Brenda fucking Walsh. Make the call.

Producer 1 crosses himself. Dials the number.

SHANNEN DOHERTY: GODFUCKINGDAMNIT, WHAT?

P2: Shannen, babe, hi, it’s the guys at the new 9er. Got a minute to talk remake?

SD: I’M BUSY SLITTING TIRES, ASSDOUCHE! YOU DON’T JUST CALL SHANNEN DOHERTY AND EXPECT HER TO BE FREE! I’ll call you back in ten.

Three hours later.

Producer 1 dials Shannen again.

SD: DIE OF AIDS, BITCH, WHO IS THIS?

P1: Um, Shannen, hey, it’s us… again. Thought you were gonna call us back.

SD: DON’T YOU TALK BACK TO ME, SHITDICK! That’s a violation of my contract. I’m walking off this project right fucking now!

P1: Shannen, we don’t have you under contract for anything.

SD: Dammit, I’m talking to you for free? I WILL GUT MY AGENT’S MOTHER!

P2: Shannen, listen, we’re re-doing 90210 and we’d like you to consider coming back and playing Brenda again.

SD: Why are we talking about this? That old bastard Spelling is dead. I should know, I put him in the ground myself.

P1: We’re doing it without him, may he rest in peace.

SD: And you want Shannen Doherty back on your show? Well, what took you so fucking long, SNATCHFUCKS! I coulda told you I was necessary. Audiences can’t stomach Tori for 44 minutes a week. Girl’s got tits like semi-frozen Wendy’s hamburger meat.

P2: So are you interested?

SD: I AM INTERESTED IN YOU SUCKING MY DICK! Listen up and listen good, DICKBRAIN, you need me more than I need you. I’m doing fucking super with my career. Have you seen my Reality show, Breaking Up With Shannen Doherty? I break bitches up and cause pain and misery in otherwise happy people. I’m finally getting paid to do what I’m good at.

P1: Shannen, we love you, we think you’re great. You’re the key to this show. Everybody knows it. We have BIG plans for Brenda.

SD: Yeah? That’s good, cause I HAVE BIG PLANS FOR FUCKING YOU IN THE ASS! I am great. And I am the key to the show. So what you need to have BIG plans for is my salary. I’ll start thinking about coming back when you do one thing for me. It’s a Shannen Doherty motto. Four words, here they are. PAY. ME. MY. MONEY. PAYMEMYMONEY! And also I want Alyssa Milano killed.

P1: What? But she’s so pretty and funny! And her manly arm hair is so endearing!

P2: Shannen, Alyssa won’t be on the show.

SD: I give a fuck! Make her dead and we can talk.

P2: OK. We’ll… um… work on that. So six figures per episode and we’ll give you the prestigious “and” credit. Anything else?

SD: THERE WILL ALWAYS BE SOMETHING ELSE, YOU MONIED FUCK! I’m SHANNEN DOHERTY. I will not shoot any scenes with Jennie Barf. If I see her, Imma break a prop bottle off on her face.

P1: But she’s a Mom!

SD: She should have thought about that before stealing Dylan while I was in France fucking Reek. The only way I’m doing a scene with her is if she’s covered in shit, while I’m in head-to-toe Prada, which I will keep, and licking the sweat off of Michael Vartan’s abs. And I don’t mean random shit, either, I mean actual human fecal matter.

P1: You want to put human poo on her?

SD: Not just any poo. MY POO! Revenge is a dish best served DOHERTY!

P2: Um… we’ll shoot you guys separately.

SD: I don’t want to shoot with ANYBODY, get it! I do my best work by my damn talented self!

P1: But we need to shoot you with, somebody.

SD: IT’S CALLED BLUESCREEN, DOUCHEMORON! It’s how we shot my last season of Charmed after I roofied Combs, and it worked just fine.

P2: We’ll make it happen.

SD: And I want every shot of me tilted at nine degrees counter clockwise or I will take a bat to the Director’s children.

P1: Nine degrees? I don’t get it. You want to be crooked?

SD: My face is crooked, MOTHERFUCKER! IT’S TO BALANCE IT OUT! THANKS FOR GIVING ME A COMPLEX ABOUT IT, TWATSCAR! I SWEAR, IF I SEE YOU ON THE STREET I WILL RUN YOU DOWN LIKE YOU’RE A PUBLICIST WHO BOOKED ME SECOND ON CONAN, BEEYAHOTCH!

P2: Shannen, your wild asymmetry is beautiful. We’ll get each side of your face an Emmy nomination. Hell, I’ll personally get the gap in your front teeth a Cable Ace Award, just come and do the show.

SD: FUCK YOU! Fine, I’ll do it.

P1: Oh, thank God!

P2: Super! That’s great, Shannen. We really appreciate it. Just one thing we’re gonna need from you. It’s small, but we can’t get the network to sign off on you without it.

SD: This better involve you giving me free cigarettes.

P2: We’re gonna need you to stay out of trouble and be nice to the cast and crew.

SD: WHAT THE GOOD GODDAMN HELLFUCK WOULD MAKE YOU THINK THAT WOULD BE A PROBLEM, YOU PRESUMPTUOUS TAINTLICK?

P1: You used to be kinda of notorious for that.

SD: Did you just say I was like Tori?

P1: No.

SD: I WILL FEED YOUR BALLS TO MY SHITZU AND THEN PUT HIM IN A WOODCHIPPER JUST TO SPITE YOU!

P2: This is what we’re talking about, Shannen. You can’t behave like this if you’re gonna do the show.

SD: Am I really so bad?

P1: You’re EVIL!

SD: Oh dear, I… I didn’t know. I’ve been so famous for so long that I guess I just forgot how to behave with regular people. I’m a nice person, I really am. Everything that happened back in the 90’s, that was all nonsense from a stupid child on a power trip. Truth is, my career is in the toilet. My reality show got canceled, no one will hire me, hell, even Ziering is doing better than me. Truth is, I really need this job. If I didn’t say it before, let me say it now: thank you. Thank you. You’re saving me. And I won’t ever forget it.

P2: You’re very welcome, Shannen. We can’t wait to work with you. We’ll see you on set Monday at 8 am.

SD: GET FUCKED, ASSCLOWN, I’LL BE THERE AT NOON OR I WON’T BE THERE AT ALL!

P2: It’s great to have you onboard!

FADE OUT

Bangarang!

Sandra Bullock, Former All-Time Girl Next Door and Current “Really Sandy, Another RomCom? REALLY?” Actress, and better-bearded abtor (actor with abs instead of chops), Ryan Reynolds, shoot a scene from their upcoming romantic comedy (natch), the sure to be middling box office earner, “The Proposal”.

Ryan Reynolds: Remember when you were a relevant film actress?

Sandra Bullock: Remember when you were considered the next big thing?

RR: Remember when you did The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood and every guy who ever thought you were hot swore they’d never be roped into another one of your movies ever again, even if Keanu Reeves was in it?

SB: Remember when you did Waiting and everyone that ever found you funny swore they’d never look at Van Wilder the same way again, and not just because Tara Reid was in it?

RR: Remember when you almost took the America’s Sweetheart away from Julia Roberts, which was never?

SB: Remember when you could open a movie to more than $11 million, which was never?

RR: Remember when you weren’t pigeonholed into only doing Romantic Comedies?

SB: Remember when you weren’t pigeonholed into only doing Romantic Comedies?

RR: …

SB: …

RR: Remember when you were crazy hot and you did the cover of US Magazine where you were soaking wet and all come hither and you made a man out of The Jay?

SB: Remember when your abs were the abbiest abs that ever abbed and it was almost scary too look at your stomach for fear your abs would smite the world?

RR: Remember when you totally pulled off that Bill Pullman romcom?

SB: Remember when you totally rocked the fat suit in Just Friends like no other man has ever rocked a fat suit before (except for Courtney Cox on Friends)?

RR: Remember when you were the only tolerable thing about Crash?

SB: Remember when you made neck beards and man highlights cool again in Blade: Trinity?

RR: Remember when you used to bang Ryan Gosling before it was in to be an A-list Cougar?

SB: Remember when you used to bang Alanis Morissette before it was in to be an A-list actor dating a has been rocker?

RR: Remember when you were almost Wonder Woman?

SB: Remember when you were almost The Flash?

RR: Remember when you were cast as Maggie in Million Dollar Baby but left the production only to see Hilary Swank get the role and win an Oscar for it?

SB: Remember when you were offered the role of Xander on Buffy the Vampire Slayer and you turned it down and it became a huge cult hit that spawned legions of fans and you ended up doing Two Guys A Girl and a Pizza Place which spawned a lot of people changing the channel?

RR: Remember Two If By Sea?

SB: Remember Buying the Cow?

RR: Hey!

SB: /shrugs

RR: …

SB: …

RR: Remember Speed?

SB: Remember Smokin’ Aces?

RR: Remember Miss Congeniality?

SB: Remember The Nines?

RR: Remember when you were awesome?

SB: Remember when you were funny?

RR AND SB: Those were the daaaaaays!

Bangarang!

These are the lessons Crash imparted onto Billy about playing and acting in the Church of Funnyball…

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Crash Davis: Relax, all right? Don’t try to make everybody laugh. Jokes are boring! Besides that, they’re fascist. Throw some dramedy – like a Tenenbaum movie, it’s more democratic.

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: [to himself] What’s this guy know about comedy? If he’s so good how come he hasn’t been in a hit movie for the last ten years? If he’s so good how come the Oscars want me to host every year instead of him?

Crash Davis: Oh, hey, and another thing, Meat. You don’t know shit, all right? If you wanna make it to the bigs, you’ll listen to me. The Oscars only want you cause Steve Martin keeps turning them down and Chris Rock is too black for Kansas, got it? So relax! Let’s have some fun out here! This comedy game’s fun, OK? Fun goddamnit. And don’t hold your useless Cable Ace Award so hard, OK? It’s an egg. Hold it like an egg.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Crash Davis: It’s time to work on your interviews.

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: My interviews? What do I gotta do?

Crash Davis: You’re gonna have to learn your clichés. You’re gonna have to study them, you’re gonna have to know them. They’re your friends. Write this down: “We gotta shoot one scene at a time.”

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: [writing] Got to shoot one scene at a time… it’s pretty superficial.

Crash Davis: Course it’s superficial, it’s an interview with Access Hollywood, that’s the point. Write it down.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: How come you don’t like me?

Crash Davis: Because you don’t respect yourself, which is your problem. But you don’t respect the entertainment industry, and that’s my problem. Forget Paris totally sucked, guy. But you got a gift.

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: I got a what?

Crash Davis: You got a gift. When you were a baby, the Gods reached down and turned your humor bone into a thunderbolt. “You look marvelous” was legendary stuff. You got Hall-of-Fame funny, but you’re pissing it away.

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: I ain’t pissing nothing away. I got an Emmy already; a City Slickers franchise and a standing voiceover deal with Pixar.

Crash Davis: Christ, you don’t need a standing voiceover deal with Pixar! What you need is a smart romantic comedy like you used to do! In the show, everyone can get a hit with Pixar.

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: Well, how would you know? YOU been in the Box Office Top Ten?

Crash Davis: Yeah, I’ve been in the Box Office Top Ten. A little thing I like to call Tin Cup, bitch! Recognize.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

/Crash calls for a cult classic fantasy film, Billy shakes off the movie pitch twice.

Crash Davis: Hey! HEY! Why are you shaking me off?

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: I want to give them the humor and announce my comedy with authority!

Crash Davis: Announce your fucking comedy with authority? These audiences are fantasy movie fans, who like fantasy movies where guys storm the castle!

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: Well they haven’t seen my humor!

Crash Davis: And by “haven’t seen my humor”, you mean “Father’s Day”, yes? Alright meat, show them your humor.

/Crash walks back to the box office.

Crash Davis: [to the audience] Guys, here comes a bad mob comedy sequel, right down the center. And when you speak of my sports movies, speak well. (Is this heaven? No, it’s Field of Dreams… one tear.)

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

/Billy has finally made it to the show. He sits down with Pat O’Brien to talk about his career.

Billy Crystal LaLoosh: A good friend of mine used to say, “This is a very simple game. You throw the joke, you catch the joke, you hit the joke. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and sometimes you make My Giant.” Think about that for a while.

Bangarang!

Oh look, the Academy Awards are o-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Wuh? Huh? What I miss? Did Daniel Day-Lewis drink a milkshake?

Yikes, that was forgettable. It says a lot about the quality of the telecast when the best thing all night was the fake montage for binoculars and Hottie Mirren saying balls in Spanish. Why couldn’t Jon Stewart have secretly started working before the strike ended? Would anyone have really minded? At least we would have been saved the painful Nintendo Wii bit and the obnoxious Bee Movie bullshit; and maybe Amy Adams would have gotten some freaking Debbie Allen-style SUPPORT during her musical number! That being said, I would totally vote for Gaydolf Titler.

On the predicting front, I went seven for eight on the big races, and also nailed Animated Feature, Score, Costume Design, Editing, Cinematography, both of the Sound Awards and Jon Stewart’s B- perf (and won my party pool, btw). I biffed on OG Song (too much love for Amy Adams, though the Once song was pretty), VFX (guess the Academy loves hot Polar on Polar bear action as much as me), and Best Documentary. I was happy about No Country as Best Picture; my first true favorite since American Beauty in ’99, and was impressed that the Academy recommended so many worthy performances. A solid year for Oscar.

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that my Mom nailed the Cotillard win the moment she stepped on the red carpet. “That’s a Best Actress dress,” she said. “Just like when Julia wore the black and white dress in 2000.” Now you know where I get my mad predicting skillz.

So you know the drill: check any of the kagillion other pop blogs for a full recap or liveblog, cause you’re not getting one here. I have what I always have: the lowdown on what the stars were talking about on the Red Carpet.

Things Overheard on the Oscars Red Carpet…

Jack Nicholson: What am I even doing here? There’s not one Best Actress nominee here worth nailing. I already tagged Christie, and I don’t do Frenchies or pregnant chicks. Who in the hell is Laura Linney? And this Juno girl? Am I allowed to bang children now? Is that cool? What was it Roman used to say about that…

Daniel Day-Lewis: I will go Bill the Butcher on the next dippy journo who asks me about milkshakes. I will smear his blood on my boudoir. Two coats! Oh hi Roeper. Yes yes you drink my milkshake, ha ha!

Helen Mirren: The Queen demands you bring her James McAvoy. Place him in my private study. I shall tend to him shortly…

Hal Holbrook: What? Who? Where am I? I thought I was going to the Opera tonight? Is this a Designing Woman on my arm? Delta, is that you? … I am old.

Diablo Cody: Has anyone seen my date, Bam Bam?

Katherine Heigl: I am such an international movie star. It’s only a matter of time before I’m winning one of these bitches. /smokes a carton of cigarettes, is obnoxious

Ellen Page: Cute words cute words cute words LOVE ME(!), derf, I’m wearing Connie’s! I’m Rowr! But cute!

Cameron Diaz: It’s 5 o’clock, did I miss the free crack giveaway?

Jennifer Garner: So I didn’t get a nomination, that’s OK. That’s fine. They’re just jealous because I get to go home and fuck Ben Affleck. That a REAL honor! Just ask The Jay.

The Jay: True story.

Tilda Swinton: I heard it might rain today, so thankfully I remembered to bring my garbage bag poncho. Phew, that could have been embarrassing!

Javier Bardem: Hola, yo soy swarthy swarthy swarthy! /instantaneously knocks up Amy Adams just by looking at her

Jessica Alba: If I had known I’d get invited to the Oscars just for getting knocked up and making four or five bad movies in a year, I would have started years ago. Oh wait, I did…

Johnny Depp: /mumbles incoherently, immediately called the frontrunner for next year’s Best Actor race

Amy Adams: I swear to Jesus if they send me up on that stage by myself without any backdrop whatsoever and I have to sing that ridiculous song while waving my hands like an idiot, I’m gonna sick Anton Chigurh on bitches. I’m the new Julie Andrews, dammit!

Tommy Lee Jones: What’s all this wrassle frassle commotion? Dagnamit, this is hogwarsh! I ain’t got time for this. I have horses to tend to! And things in the distance to look weary at! I’m grisled!

Nicole Kidman: Chandelier delivery! Who ordered the chandelier?

John Travolta: Ch-Ch-Chia!

Bangarang!

TAI: Cher, do you think I’m still as pretty as we were in high school?

CHER: No, you’re a full-on Blu-Ray Monet.

TAI: What’s a Blu-Ray Monet?

CHER: It’s like a really great 1080i digital picture, see? From far away, or on a small YouTube window it’s OK, but up close, on Hi-Def, it’s a big old mess. Let’s ask a guy. Ashton, what do you think of Tai’s newly worked-on face?

ASHTON KUTCHER: Hagsville. And I would know.

CHER: See? But Tai, do you really think anyone wants to see you in movies, anymore?

TAI: What am I some sort of facially disfigured celebritard? Like Tara Reid?

CHER: No, not even. I didn’t say that. You were great on King of the Hill!

TAI: Oh, animation voice work, sure. But I’m not good enough for big budget movies, or something?

CHER: I just don’t think that you mesh well together.

TAI: You don’t think we mesh well? Did you even see Little Black Book! It’s like, why am I even listening to you to begin with? You’re just a failed teen movie star who can’t carry a TV show.

CHER: That was way harsh, Tai. I totally did a pilot last season.

TAI: Look, I’m really sorry. Let’s just talk when my collagen has mellowed and I can blink again, alright? I gotta go blow my agent now. I’m outie!

Bangarang!

(Miss Match was kinda charming, no?)

Totally in love married couple, Matthew Broderick and Sarah Jessica Parker, take an evening stroll down a New York city street.

Matthew Broderick: Dear, our dinner was positively delightful. The brioche was exquisite, the tampanade c’est magnifique, and I had what only can be described as a love affair with the ’90 Chateau Haut-Brion.

Sarah Jessica Parker: (sniffs and rubs her nose) Yeah, I had a good time.

MB: Yes, you were in the bathroom for quite some time. As per usual. I went ahead and had the maitre ‘d wrap up your, ahem, salad, into a foil shaped like a swan!

SJP: Super.

MB: So, um, my wife… you’re looking very pretty tonight. Not at all unsexy to this straight man, let me tell you! Maxim does not know what they are talking about. You look about as horsey as I look effete.

SJP: Aww, Matt! That makes me feel so good. Well, that and the five rails I blew on the sink at the restaurant. But it’s probably equal. I don’t know. So, um, look, are we gonna go home and have sex? Cause we really haven’t done that in six or eight… years. And it would be really nice to know what a man’s touch feels like again.

MJB: You know, I think I may be coming down with something. (fake coughs). Here, feel my palms.

SJP: Ew, gross!

MB: (turns to non-existent camera) The key to faking out the wife is the clammy hands. It’s a good non-specific symptom; I’m a big believer in it. A lot of people will tell you that impotence is a dead lock, but, uh… you get a horny wife, you could wind up in a sex doctor’s office. That’s worse than having actual sex with a girl. You fake a stomach cramp, and when you’re bent over, moaning and wailing, you lick your palms. It’s a little childish and stupid, but then, so is marriage.

SJP: That’s ok, sweetie. Another time, when you’re feeling better.

SJP: (narrating) Later that night I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with your secretly gay husband.

MB: So how are things going with post-production on the movie?

SJP: Soo bad! (smokes an entire cigarette in 8 seconds flat, whinnies) Fat cow Catrall is hamming it up in EVERY scene! I can’t even get a bad joke in, edgewise. I hate it. And Cynthia keeps trying to get me to go to lunch with her ugly whale girlfriend, like that’s gonna happen. And oy, the writing is awful. It’s going to be a piece of shit.

MB: Don’t worry about it, I don’t even have a piece of shit movie. I have to envy yours.

SJP: Oh, thanks.

A hot nineteen year-old girl walks up to SJP.

HOT NINETEEN YEAR-OLD: OMG! You’re Carrie Bradshaw! You are my idol! I do everything you do! I string along my country boyfriends, I smoke in front of people that hate it, I’m selfish, ignore my friends’ problems and I have a dysfunctional relationship with a rich, older guy. Can I please have your autograph?

SJP: Of course, sweetie! Unh!

As a force of habit, SJP rolls up the small piece of paper and brings it to her nose. Off the girl’s odd look, SJP makes an obnoxious “oops, j/k!” face, unrolls the paper and signs it.

MB: Would you like my autograph as well?

H19YO: Who are you?

MB: Matthew Broderick.

H19YO: Who?

MB: I’ve been in 50 fifty movies. Election, The Stepford Wives, Inspector Gadget? I just did the Music Man on Broadway…

H19YO: Sorry, I don’t watch gay shit.

MB: Inspector Gadget was NOT gay! He was bionic!

SJP: Matthew, please. You’ve gone to far. We’re going to get busted.

MB: (turning to non-existent camera): A: You can never go too far. B: If I’m gonna get busted, it is not gonna be by a girl like this.

MB: I was… (sighs) Ferris Bueller?

H19YO: You’re Matthew Broderick?

MB: That’s right, I’m Matthew Broderick.

H19YO: The hipster king of 80′s teen comedies?

MB: (caught off-gaurd) … that’s right.

Pause.

H19YO: But you’re awesome. Why would you be with this horsey bitch?

SJP: (indignant) Heeey!

Matthew and the Hot 19 year-old give her a look.

SJP: Fine!

MB: Let me tell you something, missy! This right here is a beautiful, charismatic, lovely woman. That I am contractually obligated to spend the rest of my life with.

H19YO: You have a contract? Like Tom and Katie?

MB: No, not at all. Our baby was merely an accident. I confused my anti-depressants with her viagra and she attacked me.

SJP: What my husband means to say is that we have a contract with God. I swear. Swear on Chanel.

MB: That’s right! Now Sarah may have an equine-esque visage, but she is no horse. I have voluntarily seen her naked on at least four occasions and there were no hooves to speak of. Which is more than I can say for Nicole Kidman! I can name close to a thousand women I’d rather have sexual relations with less, than my mannish partner. She is quite handsome and I love her! I love her like a man who loves a woman is supposed to. So you can take you’re… “hot buns” away, or whatever they’re called, and learn to respect your elders.

SJP: But go see my new movie coming out this summer! Eee! (whinnies)

H19YO: Whatever. I was always a Samantha, anyway.

She walks away.

MB: (turning to non-existing camera) Incredible! One of the worst performances of my career and she never doubted it for a second.

SJP: (narrating) That’s another reason I love New York. Just like that, it can go from bad to cute to warding off a hot 19 year-old who thinks your gay husband is gay.

MB: What a night!

SJP: I know. (smokes two cigarettes at once, gnaws on a sugar cube)

MB: I am positively a-twitter. Now I know what Nathan Lane must feel like when we’re not together.

SJP: … on stage. When you’re not together on-stage.

MB: … sure.

SJP: So you wanna go home and see the kid?

MB: Not particularly.

SJP: Me neither.

MB: I was thinking about taking a walk into Central Park. Some of the more… out of the way spots. I have nothing to do tomorrow, I don’t mind being a little sore.

SJP: Oh. Well, I was thinking of seeing if Raoul was selling at the fountain. I have ADR tomorrow and you know I can’t fake being sexy unless I’m completely out of body.

MB: I do know that.

SJP: You wanna walk together?

MB: A splendid idea!

SJP: (narrating) The fact is, sometimes it’s really hard to walk in a woman’s shoes… when she’s married to a gay man. That’s why we need really special ones now and then to make the walk to go buy coke from a Puerto Rican in Central Park, a little more fun.

MB: (turning to non-existing camera) Yep, life goes by pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss getting pounded in Central Park by anonymous black men.

Bangarang!

(Follow me on Twitter @jasonamatthews)