Well, the Fat Kid is gonna be living large. And, no, I don't mean the "large" that comes from converting the Food Pyramid into the Food Skyscraper and having extending sessions of Assal Horizontology
. No, I mean "large" as in going Hollywood, making fat stacks of cash, and rubbing elbows with actors. And not just the ones waiting tables at IHOP. Real, working, Hollywood actors.
I am going to be a famous movie producer.
After repeated and exhaustive negotiations with a famous Hollywood movie studio, I recently inked a movie deal. Yep. A real live movie deal, with contracts and everything. Well, technically my court appointed attorney said that the term is not "inked" but "served" and he doesn't call it a "movie deal" per se, but "restraining order." It's all legal mumbo jumbo to me.
Anyhoo, I know you are wondering: How did I do it? It all started when I went to the movies not long ago with the lovely Mrs. Fat Kid to see "Prometheus." As the lights went down and the movie began, I sat with rapt attention waiting for something new and exciting to come my way.
It never did.
Instead, I was greeted with the usual alien flick fare, with the movie following a tried and true formula.
That's when it hit me. All alien movies are basically the same and I can become rich by following this formula. It's like card counting at the blackjack table. Only without cards or math. Here's the formula:
It must be set in the future, far enough ahead that we expect lots of cool gadgets and space travel, but not so far off that we can't identify with the people about to be
fed introduced to intergalactic visitors.
The clothing must be sexy, shiny, and completely impractical. The tighter and shinier, the better. Apparently the need for breathable, functional clothing is something future humans have outgrown. Also outgrown is the need for pockets.
Cast and Crew
1. The captain. If the captain of the interstellar craft is a man, he must be a grizzled, hard boiled type who likes to drink. He doesn't need to threaten to beat you up if you fall out of line, but he will probably just strand you on the dark side of the moon. But that's only if he survives the encounter with the alien life forms, which he never does. If the captain is a woman, she must be the kind of alpha male that alpha males are afraid of. And she must be drop dead gorgeous. But if you cross her, she will kick your ass so hard that you will strand yourself on the dark side of the moon.
2. The android. Never, ever trust the robot. Whether it is Ash from Alien, HAL from 2001, Robot from Lost in Space, or David in Prometheus, the robot is always bad news who is going to try to kill the rest of the crew.
3. The Company Man. He is along for the ride to look after the company's interests, but he (like the robot) always has an ulterior motive for being there and he thinks the rest of the crew is expendable. He is usually killed off before the question of "If the rest of the crew is sacrificed, who's going to fly the ship/wake him up from cryo-sleep when the ship gets home?" gets asked or answered.
4. The obvious love interest. There is always a character who would fit well with the main protagonist - if only the alien didn't kill him before that relationship could blossom (see "Who Survives?" below).
5. Monster fodder. All the rest of the crew, who will be eaten, usually one at a time at first, then in bunches.
For some reason, hostile aliens always leave a trail of green slime where ever they go and it is usually this gross substance that the monster fodder peeps first encounter. When they first see the trail, rather than shouting "Hey! It's green slime! There be aliens about! RUN!" they study it like a fine wine connoisseur encountering a Sauvignon Blanc for the first time. Only, by the time he decides whether it has breathy, oaky temper or has a playful but shy aroma, he has a scaly tentacle sticking out of his belly and blood spewing from his mouth.
They must be gross, they must be ugly, they must be scaly, and they must stand in front of the monster fodder and snarl menacingly before they kill the first victim. It absolutely has to happen. In figure skating that would be considered part of the "compulsory program", leaving all the rest of the kills open to free style interpretation. Their blood is often toxic, meaning even if you get a kill shot off, if it's at close range, you die a slow, agonizing death. They never carry weapons because they don't have to, because they are part dinosaur part trial attorney and they can rip you into pieces with their bare hands/claws/tails. Unless they are Predators. But those guys are the exception that proves the rule. Predators are also the exception that proves the rule that aliens don't need a good reason to kill you. They just don't like you.
Here's a fun bit of trivia: you can predict the body count in any alien movie by counting the number of humans on the ship and subtracting 1. That is the number of people who will be munched by aliens. Why? Because there can only ever be one survivor. Unless there is a child or animal involved, then there can be two. But before anyone can be declared the sole survivor, all the rest of the aliens must be laid to rest/blown to bits and a final mano y mano chase-and-fight sequence decides the winner. And the winner is always the human because with the alien winning the battle to the death there would not be a sequel.
So that's the formula for financial success in Hollywood. Now I am just waiting on my court appointed attorney to tell me when our
appearance before the judge production meeting is.