Put A Stake In The Bloody Sharknado

I'm back again, after a few weeks away. I needed some time away from the blog, for various reasons. We'll see for a little while what kind of schedule I'll keep from here out.

Final Sharknado Film Released, Producers Threaten To Revisit Franchise

Los Angeles (AP) The unlikely Z-movie that launched a franchise came to a close in recent days with The Last Sharknado: It’s About Time, a time traveling bit of nonsense that supposedly wrapped up the preposterous concept of sharks caught up in tornadoes and wrecking havoc with the world. The franchise gave new life to careers on life support for its two leading players, earned scorn and ridicule from anyone with good taste, and launched a million memes.

The stars and producers of the series have been on a publicity tour in the last few days since the final film in the franchise aired. Sharknado was the sort of film that was deemed so bad you had to see it, and of course despite diminishing returns in terms of ratings, for the last few years it was followed up by a number of sequels and other preposterous mashups- Lavantula, Blizwolf, Corgiquake, and TsunaMidler, a film which has not been aired since Bette Midler’s attorney filed an injunction to prevent its release.

Anthony Ferrante and David Michael Latt, who have shepherded the franchise as producers, gathered together with actors Ian Ziering and Tara Reid, who have been with the franchise since the first film as the unlikely protagonists Fin and April. Actress Vivica A. Fox, who appeared in the second and sixth installments of the franchise, joined them on a stage at the production offices of The Asylum. Real reporters were assembled along with entertainment reporters, who were in a delirious state, having had watched the film five times straight.

Much has been said about how this film closes out the franchise. Time travel to stop the sharknadoes from ever starting is employed. A schmuck of a leading man bounces around time to save the world, meeting historical figures and stumbling through big events. Nazis, dinosaurs, American Revolutionary figures, knights, and far more are all exploited in a mashup of a plot with plotholes so big you could fly a jumbo jet through them. The requisite cameos of people playing themselves or unlikely roles (Latoya Jackson as Cleopatra? Seriously???) are all accounted for. People with a working brain might muse that time travelers could do us all a favour and remove Ferrante, Latt, Ziering, and Reid from the timeline.

“Sharknado has been a blessing,” Ziering was saying on stage, smiling like a loon. “Before all this started, I was in trouble. My days of teen hearthtrobness in 90210 was behind me. The parts had dried up, the loan sharks were ready to break my legs, and I was subsisting on dollar store macaroni and cheese every night. Now I’m a star again. Life is good for the Big Z.”

“It paid for my latest round of plastic surgery,” Reid added.

Fox smiled. “And you wouldn’t think to look at you.”

“Thanks. Wait, was that a compliment?” Reid asked.

“A lot of people have been talking over the last few days about how we wrapped things up,” Latt cut in. “Is this really the final Sharknado? Do Fin and April get the chance to have a happy ending and walk off into the sunset together? Or are we going to go back on our word and release, say, Sharknado 7: Revenge Of The Hammerheads. Incidentally, that’s only the working title for the next film. Wait, did I say that out loud?”

Reid spoke up again. “You know, people come up to us in the streets and thank us for making these films. Sharknado has become this cultural icon that the fans just love to pieces. Not shark bite sized pieces. I mean, it’s the kind of story you can sit down and watch with the kids and your grandma while sharks get tossed out of the skies and start eating Al Roker. It’s Americana, everyone. That Norman Rockhead guy couldn’t have painted it any better than how we tell it. Apple pie, football on Friday nights, and Sharknado. That’s America at its best.”

“Shakespeare, eat your heart out,” Ziering boasted. “If he was around today, he’d be writing stories just like this. Because Sharknado is high art. It’s our best expression of culture and spirit and ambition. I don’t see why we’re not getting lavished with awards for it, but maybe that’s just some big conspiracy to give awards to movies that aren’t as good as ours are. Particularly since we got rid of that miserable has-been Hasselhoff.”

David Hasselhoff, the Z-list actor, egotistical buffoon, and full blown alcoholic, had appeared in a couple of the films as Fin’s father Gil, but had been removed after fights with Ziering and a subsequent mutual restraining order preventing the two actors from being in the same place. An uneasy tension settled over the room, broken by a shout. “I heard that!” Everyone turned. There, standing at the back of the room, was the Z-list actor himself, with bloodshot eyes suggesting he had been drinking, holding a half empty bottle of vodka that confirmed that he had been drinking. He looked mad. “You take that back!”

Ziering sneered. “Make me!”

Hasselhoff advanced through the room. “I didn’t raise you to talk back, you punk!”

Fox asked, “Are you aware that you were only playing his character’s father?”

“Don’t confuse the Hoff with facts!” Hasselhoff bellowed, stumbling, pointing at Ziering. “Get down here, you snot nosed brat, and let’s settle this once and for all!” At this point, real reporters were quietly getting out of the way.

“Could we get some security in here?” Ferrante called.

“David, now we’ve talked about this,” Latt said in a reasonable tone. “There’s a restraining order out against you, and you’re not allowed to come out and antagonize our cast like this. Please step out before this becomes difficult.”

Ziering got up out of his chair. “I’ve kicked your ass every time you’ve started a fight, old man, remember? Or has the booze destroyed what’s left of your memory like it has your reputation?”

Hasselhoff glared. “Nobody talks to the Hoff like that!” He threw the vodka bottle at the stage. It missed by far, hitting the back wall, smashing into pieces. His expression of rage turned to shock. “Oh, no! My precious vodka!” For a moment he didn’t move, caught up in his own despair. Then he looked at Ziering again. “You made the Hoff do that! I’m going to kill you, you punk!”

The two charged at each other, Ziering throwing himself off the stage, Hasselhoff meeting him halfway. The actors started hitting each other, knocking into reporters, using chairs to smash into each other as the press conference turned into a melee. It ended with Hasselhoff on the floor, bearing more fresh cuts than the victorious Ziering, screaming over and over again, “He broke my beautiful face!”

As the groaning and whiny Hasselhoff was taken away by paramedics, Latt and Ferrante were apologetic to reporters. “We’ll make sure he never gets near one of our press conferences again. We’ll try to do better,” Ferrante vowed.

Latt nodded. “And when it comes time for Sharknado Ten: This Time We Really Mean It’s The Last One, hopefully by then Hasselhoff will either have choked on a combination of vomit, cheeseburgers, and beer… or he’ll have sobered up and changed his ways. I expect it’ll be the former.”

Ferrante looked at his fellow producer. “David, ixnay on the Sharknado Tenay.”

Latt looked back at him, confused. “Wait… did I say Sharknado Ten out loud?”

The Daring Escape Of An Lunatic Scientist

Mad Scientist Escapes Custody, Vows Revenge On Enemies

Berlin (Reuters) The world is reeling from news of the escape from prison of a notorious mad scientist in Germany. Magnus Von Malice, the super villain alumnus of the Zeppelin Von Blood Academy For The Ethically Challenged, the sociopathic and egomaniacal scientist whose attempts at world domination have run the gauntlet from bringing z-list celebrities back from the dead, stealing million dollar coins, arms dealing, and endless tirades, was arrested several months ago after a previous escape from prison. He and his minions stole a million dollar Canadian coin from a German museum, and Von Malice’s plans and threats against the world were thwarted thanks to the timely intervention of the world’s most relentless lawman.

Von Malice and his associates had been charged with multiple counts and imprisoned pending trial in Germany. Von Malice himself had been spending several months in a body cast after an epic beat down, still recovering in recent weeks while his body was mending. Police are still investigating the means of his escape after a daring breakout achieved by an unknown number of intruders at the hospital wing of the prison where he had been held pending trial.

While Von Malice is on the run, numerous figures around the world have responded to the crisis. Chancellor Merkel seemed dismayed and irritated, which might well be her default setting. “I want answers about how this could have happened,” she told reporters. “How hard is it to keep such a man confined? This man still had broken bones mending! Now he’s out there making threats and making more plans and doing whatever mad scientists do! Do I have to remind you he’s built death rays and interfered with time itself to resurrect pointless celebrities? What else is he capable of?”

Actor- if you want to call him an actor- David Hasselhoff, who was one of the z-list celebrities resurrected by Von Malice, had his own statement on the matter. He was still mending himself, after an altercation with Sharknado co-star Ian Ziering at a promotional event for the latest sequel left the former television heart throb with facial injuries still mending. “People need to just back off and leave Magnus alone!” Hasselhoff said. “He’s not a bad guy! He brought the Hoff back from the dead, after all, and the Hoff being in the world is a great thing!”

Russian president and sometime super villain himself, Vladimir Putin, was evasive about Von Malice when asked if he was giving sanctuary to the mad scientist. “Look, it is very simple, da? One does not give straight answers when one is asked about old poker playing friend and occasional lunatic? Magnus Von Malice may or may not be in Russian territory, da? How should I know? Do you think I know everything that happens in Mother Russia? That would mean I would have spies everywhere reporting on everything, and that is just silly.” He laughed, and not in a good way, but more in the kind of way that made you think he was considering the brutal death of someone who had cut him off in traffic.

The current occupant of the Oval Office (for the moment, anyway) has been busy tweet-screaming at military widows, football players, and pretty much anyone else who’s been irritating him, not to mention contending with looming indictments and the Mueller investigation. And yet that hasn’t stopped him from issuing Twitter statements on the matter. “Manhunt on Magnus very unfair!” Trump wrote at three in the morning yesterday. “Magnus is a very fine guy! Good guy! Gave my campaign lots of money, bigly covfefe!” Another tweet following that noted: “Blame Crooked Hillary and Obama! Lock them up! Lock them up! Fake news!” The tweets that followed that became even less coherent until ending at four thirty with a final one: “Lyin’ Ted hates rabbits!”

In the morning, a press briefing was very brief, with White House Press Secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders coming in and telling reporters, “The President’s Twitter account was hacked. We believe Hillary Clinton did it, and we are demanding she be arrested and perp walked by the FBI before the entire world. That’s what the president told me to say. Now off the record, if any of you can think of any places that might hire me in a month or two, let me know. I don’t think this job is going to last much longer. Thanks, no questions, bye.”

The supervillain himself made contact with the world at large through a video transmitted from an unknown location. He was sitting in a large arm chair in a comfortably furnished room, petting a ferret. His long black and silver hair was disheveled, and he was dressed in dark slacks and a turtleneck. “People of the world! It is I, the unparalleled genius that is Magnus Von Malice! Only I, the greatest mind this world has ever produced, could have escaped from custody! Only I, the leading figure of the age, could be so audacious! You cannot keep me contained. No one can stop me! For I, Magnus Von Malice, am utterly unstoppable!” He began to laugh, until his face seemed to strain in pain and he clutched his side. “Oh, damn…. My ribs. Still healing up, you see. But that does not matter! For I have demands to make!”

For another thirty minutes, Von Malice went on and on, bragging about himself and his intellect, to the point where one might think he needed to seriously dial back on the ego. Finally he got to the demands. “In the past I have insisted on sole ownership of entire countries and massive amounts of money or I would wreck havoc with the world. You refused. Instead you sent that… policeman after me. Now I will not be satisfied with just getting my hands on France, or turning the people of Denmark into playing the part of my personal chess set. I will not be satisfied with trillions of dollars handed over to me.”

He paused, glared at the screen, petting the ferret. “I will give the governments and the people of the world precisely two weeks from today. You will surrender all control of your countries to me. You will surrender all wealth to me. There is to be no negotiation, no conditions. Only I, Magnus Von Malice, can lead the world forward into the future. I will be satisfied with nothing less than total and complete world domination!” He laughed again, until the pain of mending ribs stopped him. “Ah…. Ah, that’s better. And one more thing. I want that Mountie. I want Lars Ulrich. I want revenge. I want him handed over to me. I want to strap him to a rocket and send him into the sun. You will hand him over to me so that I can end his existence. Is that clear? Welcome to the new age. The Age of Von Malice!” He started laughing, until the ferret leapt out of his hands and started clawing his face. “Owww! Somebody get Hugo off me! Stop that! Stop it, Hugo! Stop! Bad ferret!”

The video ceased at that point. Governments of the world began to debate the demands. The president of France recommended an immediate surrender. The American president tweeted, “Crooked Hillary!” The Russian president looked addled after viewing the rant and was said to have run away to the nearest reinforced bunker. 

And at an RCMP detachment in the Alberta foothills, a gruff Mountie was cautiously approached by reporters for comment. Upon being reassured that the reporters knew full well that he was not that other Lars Ulrich, the Inspector’s glare lessened. “It’s on my to-do list,” Inspector Lars Ulrich simply stated. “1: Find Magnus Von Malice. 2: Kick the crap out of Magnus Von Malice. And 3: make Magnus Von Malice cry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get at it.” In the opinion of this reporter, Von Malice might be in a world of trouble.

Curse Of The Endless Sharknado

Fifth Sharknado Film Infests The World, Drives People With Taste Up The Wall

Los Angeles (AP) Anthony Ferrante and David Michael Latt, the self described brain trust behind the Sharknado direct to TV series of awful films, are basking in the attention of the fifth film in the franchise, Sharknado 5: Global Swarming. The film series, which mangles basic physics and biology while providing jobs for Z-list actors, has seen actors Ian Ziering and Tara Reid play a husband and wife pair of nitwits improbably confronting sharks swept up out of the ocean and into places around the world, terrorizing everyone in their path.

Now the latest chapter of the franchise has made it to television screens on the Syfy Channel in the United States and has been making it to other cheese-fest cable stations around the world, bringing a story of a global sharknado epidemic, with the aforementioned nitwits being somehow the only people who can save the day. The latest chapter of the film continues the tradition of Z-list celebrity cameos, including Geraldo Rivera, Fabio, Al Roker, Kathie Lee Gifford, and Charo. Absent for this chapter was David Hasselhoff, who starred in a couple of the earlier films but who is the subject of a mutual restraining order after fights have broken out with Ziering. Neither one is permitted within five hundred feet of each other at all times.

Ferrante, Latt, Ziering, and Reid met reporters at the studios for the film company The Asylum recently to discuss the franchise. A clarification- real reporters, namely those with a working brain, and entertainment reporters, none of whom have a working brain. The latter slavishly drool and fawn over anything remotely famous, such as Z-list actors like Reid and Ziering. The actors looked thoroughly pleased with themselves as they joined the director and producer on stage.

“What can I say about Sharknado?” Ziering said. “It’s saved my career. Saved my life too. I mean, I’ve said it before, the loan sharks were going to break my legs before I got the role in the first film, and it’s kept me famous and on the right side of the financial ledger ever since. Pretty good for a guy who got famous for playing Steve Sanders on 90210. Hey, if Luke Perry’s out there watching right now? Screw you, buddy! Who’s on top now, you James Dean wannabe?”

As a side note, Perry himself, who’s been in the Archie-reboot series Riverdale for awhile, shrugged when told about Ziering’s taunt. “Honestly? I’m just glad to be working. In a role I don’t have to be ashamed of when I look in the mirror once or twice a day. How a guy goes through life being proud of playing opposite bad CGI sharks in really lousy movies is beyond me.”

Back to the matter at hand. Reid was prattling on while the entertainment reporters were gushing. “....and it’s meant so much to me to have this role, to be working again, to be recognized in the streets. The last thing I ever wanted to become was the sort of actor who stops working and the next thing you hear of them, it’s thirty years after their last role and they died in a county fair stage disaster mounting their forty seventh comeback. That’s not going to happen to me, no! Because there’s no stopping the Sharknado franchise!”

Ferrante nodded. “That’s right. We’re going to keep this series going. Make it a bigger annual tradition in America than Thanksgiving! Who needs turkey when you can have Fin and April carving up flying sharks with a chainsaw, right?”

“That’s right!” Ziering said. “People love us. They love Sharknado! They want more! Because we’ve touched a cultural nerve. This, ladies and gentlemen, is better than the Renaissance or the Enlightenment or any of that crap. This... is the Age of Sharknado! By the way, I’m copyrighting that term. Anyone using the phrase Age of Sharknado from this moment on has to pay me twenty thousand dollars.”

One of the entertainment reporters spoke up. “Did you miss working with David Hasselhoff this time out?”

Ferrante and Latt looked alarmed, as if wondering if the reporter had somehow blanked out the whole mutual restraining order between Hasselhoff and Ziering. Ziering looked incensed. “That old man? Who wants him in anything? Biggest egomaniacal ham I’ve ever seen in any project,  and don’t forget, I’ve worked with Shannen Doherty.”

There was a loud racket at the entrance to the hall, and a bellow. “Take that back!”

Everyone turned. There, standing there fuming, was one of the more obnoxious of the world’s Z-list celebrities. David Hasselhoff, self described as “The Hoff”, a talentless hack and punchline to a bad joke, wasn’t in on the film, after all, and there was that aforementioned bad blood he had with Ziering.

Ferrante rose up. “David, now we don’t want any trouble...”

Hasselhoff started coming down the aisle. “If you didn’t want any trouble, you should have just automatically written that bleached blond punk Ziering out of the film and made me the star! Because I am the star! Everybody loves the Hoff!”

“Not everybody, old man,” Ziering shot back, standing up, glaring at his rival.

“Shut up! Don’t interrupt the Hoff when the Hoff is talking!” Hasselhoff ordered.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” Ziering hollered. “You shut up!”

“I told you to shut up first!” Hasselhoff countered. “You’re an embarrassment to the profession!”

Ziering came up around the table where the others were positioned. “Oh, I’m an embarrassment? You’re the guy who ate cheeseburgers off the floor during one of your drinking binges, old man!”

Latt looked around. “Could someone call security?”

Hasselhoff looked even angrier. “They’re not drinking binges! I drink to relax! To calm my nerves! To make myself feel better! I drink because the bottle’s the only thing that understands the Hoff! That doesn’t make me a... wait, what were we talking about? Oh, yeah! You’re an idiot, Ziering, and you’re stealing my thunder! Go back to 90210 already, Sanders!”

Ziering lunged, screaming, “It’s go time!”

What followed was another fight, two grown men kicking and punching at each other, clawing eyes, pulling at hair, delivering shots in each other’s direction. Security guards intervened to pull them apart, but Ziering got in one last punch, hitting Hasselhoff squarely in the nose.

Hasselhoff screamed in agony. “My nose! He broke my nose again!”

The two actors were dragged in different directions, yelling at each other the whole time. Reid looked puzzled. Ferrante shrugged, and Latt said, “What you just saw? That’s progress. They were far worse on set.  Anyway, folks, thanks for coming, and don’t forget... Sharknado 6 can’t be too far away, can it?”

A Super Villain And Masterminded Heists

Thieves Steal Enormous Million Dollar Coin Before Meeting A Bad End

Berlin (CP) A brazen heist caught the world’s attention in recent days after a million dollar coin, minted by the Royal Canadian Mint as one of six in 2007, was stolen from the Bode Museum in Berlin, Germany. The coin, on display at the museum since 2010, was taken in the early hours of March 27^th, a challenge, given that the coin weighs 100 kilograms. Reportedly as near to pure gold as it gets, the coin had a real value of four million American dollars.

Officials at the Bode were baffled by the theft, and characteristically close lipped about answering questions from the press about the burglary. Rumours out of the museum suggest blame is being placed on a sleepy guard, nicknamed Big Jurgen, on duty the night of the burglary. A police official, speaking on anonymity, confirmed that the guard had been found curled up in his office snoring by his relief the following morning. “While it’s true that a guard might not have been able to do anything to stop a determined thief or thieves, it doesn’t look good when your overnight guard is snoozing during a major robbery.”

In the days following the theft, law enforcement agencies across the globe pursued leads. There were grave fears that the coin had already been melted down into new gold bars. Memes were mounted on the internet featuring Homer Simpson trying to use the coin in a vending machine.

Suspects came to light. Three individuals who bear a striking resemblance to major Hollywood actors, and who have been suspected in heists for years, denied having anything to do with the operation. “Rusty and Linus and I were in Sydney, which the police have already confirmed when they asked,” scoundrel and former convict Danny Ocean claimed when found by reporters at his residence in upper New York state. “By the way, purely hypothetically speaking, if any of us had wanted to pull a job, we’d have wanted a bigger payoff than four million dollars.”

And yet the thieves eluded the long arm of the law. German authorities underwent a massive manhunt and investigation not seen in the country since David Hasselhoff disappeared while on a bender three years ago (for some reason Germans love Hasselhoff, which strikes the outsider as peculiar).

Four days after the theft, the mastermind behind the theft revealed himself to the world via social media in a video across multiple platforms. First appearing in silhouette in a dark room, the man was silent for several seconds as the video began, and then started to speak, a hint of high cultured German in his voice. “Ladies and gentlemen of the world, you have seen my latest endeavour. I, with the aid of my henchmen, masterminded the theft of the million dollar coin from the Bode. Only a mind of sheer criminal genius like mine could have brought it all together. Only I, Magnus Von Malice, could do it.”

Von Malice, for those who might not be aware, is the nefarious mad scientist and super-villain who escaped from prison in Canada last year. Von Malice is most noted for his temporal experiments that brought several washed up celebrities back from the dead some time back, and had been imprisoned since being brought down by the world’s most feared (and cranky) lawman, the legendary RCMP Inspector Lars Ulrich. He’s been in hiding ever since his escape, one step ahead of the law.

After his revelation, the lights came up around the mad scientist on the video, and Von Malice smiled in that malevolent way that might make one think he was walking over your grave. “It could only be done by someone of the most devastating sinister mindset, stealing this coin. And it is the first step in my master plan of world domination. You will all bow before the magnificence that is Magnus Von Malice!” The video went on for another thirty five minutes of self absorbed nonsense and bragging, leaving one wondering why super-villains were so fond of endless monologues, before ending with a threat about melting down the gold unless his demands were met, including ten trillion dollars in unmarked bills, the nation of France handed over to him post haste, and a nuclear bomb “so I can destroy Mars!” He gave the world one week to carry out his demands.

While the President of France publicly mused about handing over the keys of the country to Von Malice, thus carrying on a national tradition of knuckling under and running away from a fight, other world leaders had different reactions to the crisis. Russian President Vladimir Putin shrugged. “You know, Magnus, he is not, how do you say, bad guy? He’s just misunderstood. You know, a man gets ambitious and starts threatening everyone around him, and before he knows it, everyone thinks he’s the villain.”

British Prime Minister Theresa May, busy blowing up the country’s relations with the rest of Europe, paused to comment. “You know, it might have been nice of Cameron and that buffoon Boris Johnson to stick around and deal with the consequences of their little referendum, but that would be expecting too much of them. Now we’ve got a super-villain who’s threatening the world and stealing valuable coins? At least he didn’t steal the Crown Jewels. Wait, don’t quote me on that, it might give the jackass an idea or two.”

Former London mayor and ex-Member of Parliament Boris Johnson, the aforementioned buffoon, who was a strong advocate for Brexit, was busy tumbling down a staircase near the Thames when reporters told him about May calling him a buffoon. “That’s an outrage!” the dimwitted buffoon said. “Why, it makes me want to.... whooooaaaaa!” He was cut off, falling backwards and rolling down the stairs, breaking five ribs and an arm before he hit the bottom. In between wails of agony that suggest he doesn’t tolerate pain very well, Johnson called out, “Um, a little help?”

In the Oval Office, the President tweeted, “Fake news shaming Magnus Von Malice! Sad!” It was followed by seventeen other tweets extolling the mad scientist’s golf game, suggesting Von Malice be given the Nobel Peace Prize, and blaming Paul Ryan for the whole affair.

The German chancellor, meanwhile, recommended bringing in some outside help, and so a discreet call was made to her counterpart in Canada, who readily agreed to the request. The aforementioned cranky Mountie was sent overseas to aid in the investigation, given his previous experience with the villain. Within twenty four hours, Lars Ulrich had succeeded in tracking down Von Malice to his secret hidden lair in the Bavarian Alps, engaging each of his forty eight henchmen in hand to hand combat, leaving them weeping, bloody, and battered. German officers came in his wake to cuff suspects and bring in paramedics.

The super-villain himself got the worst of it, cornered by Ulrich, cut off from his Death Ray device. According to German officers who witnessed the confrontation, the super-villain, trying desperately to find some way to escape (despite having a granite wall at his back and a grouchy Mountie advancing at him), muttered, “why can’t you just spend all your time playing the drums and leave me alone?”

“I am not that Lars Ulrich,” the Mountie declared, delivering a punch that knocked Von Malice into the wall, followed by a thrashing that left him with broken ribs, fractured arms and legs, and a battered face. As well as the removal by yanking of the villain’s Van Dyke beard. Von Malice and his minions have all been charged with criminal conspiracy, theft, fraud, extortion, and dozens of other charges. They are now in custody awaiting trial.

The coin has been recovered and will be returned back to the museum as soon as possible. Von Malice, under police guard in hospital and confined to a body cast, spoke to this reporter after negotiations with German prosecutors and his attorney. His voice suggesting he was in terrible pain, the super-villain managed to mutter, “No matter how long it takes... no matter how many things I have to do to make this happen, no matter who I have to stomp on to get it done... I swear before all I hold sacred and despicable... that I’m going to kill Lars Ulrich.”

We finish with the reaction of two Lars Ulrichs to the threat. The Metallica drummer, deafened by decades of bad living and loud noise, read the statement when reporters found him at his California mansion. He looked up from the printed page, seeming confused. “Look, I’ve done a lot of crap down through the years, man, but I don’t deserve getting threatened by guys with weird names. I mean, who names their kid Magnus?”

The other Lars Ulrich was back at his detachment in Alberta, fresh from the satisfaction of beating up a super-villain and his associates. This reporter sought him out, assured him that he was fully aware he was not the other Lars Ulrich, and asked about the threat. It seems a hollow threat to a lawman who's beaten back dark cabals, other super-villains, giant monsters, and thousands of angry people in brawls. The Inspector shrugged, and smiled in a cold way. That smile matched the coldness of the words that followed.  “He’s welcome to try.”

Flying Sharks Versus The Hasselhoff Ego Storm

Fourth Incredibly Stupid Film In Incredibly Stupid Series To Air; Stars Oblivious To Reality

Los Angeles (CP) Sharknado will see a fourth television and direct to video movie released next month, with Sharknado 4: Brainless Tedium (this reporter’s subtitle) impending. The series, which has defied logic, common sense, and basic good taste, has featured washed up has been actors in preposterous peril involving sharks swept out of the sea by tornadoes and wrecking havoc on cities and far more. The last instalment, which featured dimwitted morons facing sharks in the skies and beyond, continued the tradition of utter stupidity of Sharknado. (editor: hey! Stop making fun of those films!)

Anthony Ferrante and David Michael Latt, the creative team- if you want to call what these two do as creative- behind the series, gathered together the press at the offices of production company The Asylum. That included real reporters- as well as the pestilent dimwitted scum that consist the roving body of entertainment reporters. The former were rolling their eyes and wondering what horrid thing they had done to merit this assignment (editor: you know exactly what you’ve done!). The latter were gushing and buzzing with excitement. This reporter, given the choice, would have preferred being at a Michael Bay press conference.

Ferrante and Latt arrived on stage, accompanied by their cast. Ian Ziering, who has managed to salvage a career left in ruins after Beverly Hills 90210 ended, has managed to star in each of these as Fin Shepherd, the bar owner turned professional sharknado fighter (this is a profession?), saving his family, the day, and even the country from marauding angry aerial sharks caught up in weather system. On a side note, should sharks who have been hurtled thousands of feet up in the air be more concerned with being out of the water or being thrown down towards pavement than they seem to be about chewing on people? Of course in a Sharknado film, logic, physics, and biology do not apply.

Ziering, Ferrante, and Latt were joined by other members of the cast- Tara Reid, Cassie Scerbo, David Hasselhoff, all back from previous instalments, along with the deranged looking Gary Busey, a new cast member this time out. There were also three burly security guards forming a wall between Ziering and Hasselhoff, who were both placed at opposite ends of the table. After a press conference featuring the two actors doing publicity for the third Sharknado degenerated into a fist fight, Ziering and Hasselhoff have been at each other’s throats. Hasselhoff had to have plastic surgery for a broken nose, and the actors apparently refused to film together.

“Welcome!” Ferrante said in a jovial way, pleased to see the crowd of reporters. This reporter was busy rolling his eyes and (editor: stop disrespecting pure entertainment!) “Thanks for coming out today and help us unleash the fourth Sharknado on the public. It’s been a great run thus far of highly entertaining and not at all scientifically preposterous films, with great actors filling vital heroic roles in our stories of man versus nature and man versus man and nature chewing on everyone. And by nature I mean, kick ass sharks feasting on hapless bystanders while...” Ferrante went on and on. This reporter spent the time visualizing sharks eating Ferrante.

Ziering was chattering on. “You know, I owe so much to the Sharknado films. They’ve made people take me seriously as an actor. Back before I got this role, the loan sharks were ready to break my knees. It was not a good time to be Ian Ziering.”

“Is there ever a good time to be Ian Ziering?” Hasselhoff called.

Ziering glared his way, and warned, “Shut up, old man, I’m talking.”

Busey, who was quietly staring at everyone with a bug eyed expression, muttered, “The best way to lose weight is to put salt on your ass and go to a petting zoo. But stay away from goats, because I've seen them fornicate with a mail box.”

There was a moment of silence. This reporter wondered when Busey had last been in the care of certified therapists or perhaps in a place with padded walls. If not, he certainly belonged there. (editor: you belong in a place with padded walls, you smirking bastard)

Reid spoke up to break the tension and awkwardness. “I’m as happy as Ian to be back. Granted, we can’t tell you how long I’m in the film. The last film had that big cliffhanger for my character. Does she live? Does she die? Will she live happily ever after or will she be smashed to bits? That’s for our wonderful audience to find out by watching. But of course they’ll watch. Everyone loves Sharknado, after all.”

This reporter spoke up. “Does it occur to any of you that the sort of excrement you produce with these Sharknado films is contributing to the dumbing down of society?”

Latt looked confused. “Anthony? What’s that word mean, excrement?”

Ferrante shrugged. “I’ll look it up later.”

Scerbo looked puzzled. “I think I know what it is. Has something to do with cows, right?”

Ziering carried on. “As I was saying, I owe a lot to Sharknado. It saved my knees, gave me a regular paying gig, and finally broke me out of the Steve Sanders stereotype I’d been in for years. I can’t understate how glad I was for that. And it’s given me great opportunities. Just between us, I’m pretty sure that I’m about to be cast on the stage in London to play Macbeth. What a great role. What a great word. Macbeth, Macbeth, Macbeth. Oh wait... isn’t there some superstition about that? Something to be fearful of?”

Busey blurted out, “You know what fear stands for? It stands out for False Evidence Appearing Real. It’s the darkroom where Satan develops his negatives.”

Hasselhoff sighed. “What were you thinking, casting Busey? There’s only room in this production for one truly great and truly eccentric actor, and that is me. Emphasis on great, because we all know that I’m the greatest actor to ever grace the big or small screen. I should be the one playing Macbeth!”

Ziering looked over at his onscreen father and offscreen nemesis. “Hey! Shut up! We all know I’m the best actor here, the greatest, the most outstanding. You’re just the washed up nobody who gets drunk and wolfs down cheeseburgers and gets it all caught on video.”

Hasselhoff turned, glaring at Ziering. “You take that back, you punk.”

Ziering shook his head. “Oh, and you’re a really lousy singer.”

“Why, you....” Hasselhoff burst forth from his chair, getting past the security guards and launching himself squarely at Ziering, knocking him off his chair, the two falling off stage, grabbing each other by the throat. “I’ll kill you!” Hasselhoff yelled.

“Washed up drunk!” Ziering countered, getting in a couple of extra punches.

The guards rushed in to pull them apart, struggling to get the two z-list actors under control, but not before Ziering got one last punch in. Hasselhoff screamed. “My nose! My nose! The bastard broke my beautiful nose again!”

The two actors were hauled away, while Reid, Scerbo, Ferrante, and Latt left the stage, looking sheepish. Gary Busey was left behind, still staring at everyone with that deranged, bug eyed expression. Then he spoke, his voice entirely reasonable, even if his words were not. “The thing about taking pictures of me in daylight, you will not see my teeth, because I am a vampire with a day pass. You should get some duct tape to cover your neck and you’ll be safe from me.”

Busey then got up, walked calmly out of the room, and was last seen chasing squirrels in a nearby park. In this reporter’s opinion, he clearly needs intensive psychiatric care, something that this reporter’s cranky editor could benefit from (editor: I’m feeding you to the sharks when you get back)