“The Set of Transformers 3 is not Cursed”
by Michael Bay
‘Sup, sluts? Tyrannosaurus Sex here to confront these stupid rumors that our set is cursed. That God himself is so afraid of the balls-to-the-wall robot ninjitsu throughout this movie that he’s trying to stop it. This way, the very metal legions of Hell can’t get sweet new moves to fight his big-chested archangels during the end of the days.
That’s more or less the gist, right? I zoned out when my assistants were having my daily briefing where they re-enact the news for me. Look at the last one I hired:
Goddamn. If God is a dude, his army looks like this woman, but with wings.
That particular brand of Bay ASSisTIT (we see what you did there – Management) comes in redhead, blond, and black chick.
I also got this assistant because as it turns out wannabe models and future porn stars who only eat Splenda and oxygen aren’t good at moving and carrying shit.
Full disclosure: I’ve yet to take her on a rocket train to Bone City, but she makes my weiner move in a weird way. Honestly, I’m afraid that when we get down to it; I’d have to be the girl.
What were we talking about again?
Oh yeah, my ‘cursed set.’ Listen, it’s not cursed, we’re not shooting a movie starring someone from the Lee family or Kennedy Clan, it’s haunted.
I do a lot, A LOT, of filming in Central and South America. Instead of taking a vacation, I usually head down south, fucking my way through America’s shittier states, across borders, and into the hearts and holes of our cousins (but, you know, distant cousins) to the South, and make something like five or six movies. Have you ever won a Mexican Oscar?
It’s an amazing experience. The unions are a joke, or non-existent. I didn’t check, because I don’t care. You can do whatever you want as long as you have a big suitcase full of money, and it’s easy to find lots of people with tattoos who know how to use a gun. I don’t know if you’ve ever hunted rhinos from a hot air balloon, but it is a lot of fun, and easy because the zoo’s don’t actually give them a lot of space to run around in.
Every time I go down there, I have to make a new bucket list, because I burn right through the old one. Doggystyle in a hang glider? Check. 18 chicks on a hovercraft going down the wrong side of the road? Check. Spell your name in napalm across 13 miles of rainforest? Check.
And it’s the little things that really matter. It’s what separates a 5 Star resort from a shitty little 4 star resort. I mean, yeah, I’ve had nine-ways at the circus, but down there, they make the elephants watch.
My point is, a lot of people have died on my sets down there, and through a combination of negligence, burying some of them upside down, and some organ harvesting, which, was for science, it would appear that maybe, just maybe, my sets in America are now haunted by vengeful Mexican ghosts.
I’m just as surprised as you that Mexican ghosts can affect living Americans, but here we are.
Rest assured, steps have been taken. I’ve called the country’s foremost experts on the supernatural.
Harold Ramis called me an idiot. Dan Akroyd does not speak to me due to some stupid cock fighting drama. What is this, high school?
Bill Murray however did show up. He brought a bike horn and an umbrella. He walked around, honking the horn for about 17 hours, then opened the umbrella and flew away.
That bought us some time, we were able to shoot the scene where all the Decepticons gang rape the moon, but next thing you know another horrible accident on our American set.
At which point I stopped chewing on clits long enough to call in the foremost expert on ghosts, spirits, and the occult, Nic Cage.
To Be Continued Friday, only on NonStop Karate.
Guys, I’m excited.
Posted on October 13, 2010, in Character, Matt Loman, Movies and tagged eee-ooo-ah, ghosts, mexico, Michael Bay, south of the border, the crush continues, transformers. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.