Intergalactic Gladiator: Lights! Camera! Action-diddly-Jackson!

I snuck onto the lot where the Nick Fury movie was being filmed. I’m a pretty sneaky guy sometimes, you know.

I was poking around the set, all sneaky and stealthy-like.

“Hey Jon.”

I spun around quickly and was face to face with Private Hudson.

“Hudson, what are you doing here?”

“They hired me to be a guard on the set!” he exclaimed. “Isn’t that way awesome?”

“Yeah, way,” I replied.

“Game over for anyone trying to sneak on the set, huh?” he nudged me.

“Uh Hudson, what’s that giant lump on your back?” I asked.

“That’s not lump, silly.” He pulled the object from behind his back. “Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator, meet Paddleput the Monkeyboy.”

“Hey-ooooo!” the creature squealed.

Mokeyboys. Why’d it have to be Monkeyboys?

“What are you doing with that thing?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” Hudson grinned. “This guy’s awesome. Just lookit how funny he is!”

I watched as the creature rolled around on the ground and then threw his arms out.

“Ta da!” it squealed.

“Ha ha ha! That was awesome, Paddleput!” Hudson laughed.

I quickly gassed Hudson and the Monkeyboy, threw them in the nearest dumpster, welded it shut, wrapped a bunch of heavy chains around it, padlocked it, nailed a bunch of two by fours to it, then rolled it down a long hill. Smugly satisfied, I brushed my hands together with smugly satisfied grin.

“The things I do for my thousands of fans,” I muttered.

I used the mini harpoon on my Wristcomm to launch a monofilament cable up the side of the building and I quickly climbed up and sneakily made my way into the rafters.

Once inside, I scoped out the scene. There was Samuel L. Jackson playing Fury (can you say pandering?) and it looks like they’re filming a scene where he seduces the evil lesbian assassin. I started rooting around through my duffel bag when I accidentally bumped one of the stage lights. It plummeted to the ground, crashing right on top of the evil lesbian’s head.

“Oh my mother[beep]ing God!” Jackson exclaimed. “She’s dead! DeVille! The mother[beep]ing lesbian assassin is mother[beep]ing dead!”

World-renowned director Copper DeVille ran up on stage and looked at the gooey mess that used to be his actor’s face.

“Dammit,” he threw his arms up. “Now we’ll have to get another evil lesbian assassin for you to seduce. Well, I guess all I can say is that at least we won’t have her on the set making a mess of things, causing drama, swearing casually in a weak attempt to shock us, telling us all that we have boogers hanging out of our noses, and sleeping around with everyone in the production. I would have gotten rid of her sooner, but the sex was pretty good.”

[Beep],” replied Jackson coolly. “I guess we’ll have to wait for this mother[beep]ing scene, huh?”

Their conversation was interrupted by a dozen Amazonian tree vipers raining down on them, courtesy of my duffel bag. I’m no Jake “The Snake” Roberts (mostly because I’m not strung out on crack and heroin), but I know how to stun twelve deadly snakes, stuff them all into a duffel bag, then dump them down on a movie set. I do this kind of thing every week.

“Snakes!” Cooper DeVille yelled.

“I’ve had enough of these mother[beep]ing snakes on this mother[beep]ing movie set!” Jackson howled. “That’s it, I [beep]ing quit. I’m going to [beep]ing walk the Earth like mother[beep]ing Kung Fu. Right the wrongs one at a time, once a week, in a small California town.”

Jackson stormed off the set leaving the crew standing around dumbfounded.

“Well now who are we going to get to play Fury?” DeVille howled.

“Never fear, the Hoff is here!” David Hasselhoff leapt onto the set and posed with his arms akimbo. “I will be Nick Fury.”

“Argh! I quit!” DeVille roared. “I can’t work under these conditions. Cancel the scene! Cancel the movie! I’m going back to making commercials where little dogs chase little chuck wagons!”

“Hey don’t hassle the Hoff,” Hasselhoff replied indignantly.

The crew walked off the set, the lights shut down and the equipment powered off. Hasslehoff was the only one left on stage. He stood there looking around with his arms in the air until a dozen deadly Amazonian tree vipers attacked him en masse.