Dead Men Tell No Tales (I don’t know what that means.)

A lone tear rolls down Rick Santorum’s cheek. His lips tremble. Rain patters on the roof of the garage. “I’m sorry,” Kevin Spacey says, looking confused. “You’ve got the wrong idea.” A gunshot echoes throughout the house…

A couple of disenfranchised teenagers, failed by American education, stumble across the body. “Cool.” One of the teens utters. They are distracted by the corpse only momentarily before Tre and Doughboy interrupt to go play some ball.

Outside: rose petals are falling. Basically, leaves of every variety are falling because it’s fall and that’s what leaves do. The rain helps too. Rick Santorum slips through his back door to dispose of the evidence: bloody t-shirt and the civil war revolver pistol. It’s time to wash off the shame.

Elsewhere: Annette Bening and Julia Roberts welcome Demi Moore into a support group for Famous Rich Women of Fading Beauty. “It’s about time,” Annette taps her nails on the table. “Don’t pay her no mind,” Julia comforts Demi. “She’s pissed at Laura Dern.” They weep and everyone pretty much agrees that Laura Dern looks pretty stupid when she does it. And then they diss her on the internet.

The rain clears up. It’s a sunny fall day. People curse at their cars in rush hour. The camera zooms out. Derelicts hobble awake to grasp whatever the world will allow them. The Guess Who’s “American Woman” begins to play but someone complains about how it’s too old and pretty much bullshit before plugging in their iPod. A flashy young upstart named Drake whines incessantly about women who don’t love him even though he’s a multimillionaire.

“I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life. You have no idea what I’m talking about. But don’t worry… you will someday.” Says the ghost of America.

You’re just a ghost. Shut up, ghost. Just shut the hell up.

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  1. danieleastman posted this