Abraham Lincoln Watching Django Unchained For The First Time

The producers were expecting some strong reactions as the movie reached its climax. The violence was among the most graphic they had ever seen. But when their star guest collapsed, all the executives fell into a stunned silence.

"Is he all right?"

One of the marketing interns knelt to feel his pulse. "His heart has stopped."

No one thought to call a doctor. The cover up began immediately.

"Luckily, he was shot just a few weeks after we picked him up. History shouldn't be too affected."

Everyone nodded in agreement but, in true Hollywood fashion, it was just wishful thinking.

The Prince Of America

The prince lives in a gated estate deep in the Hollywood Hills. The paparazzi shadow him everywhere, heralding his arrivals and departures. His office, now purely ceremonial, still holds the attention of the populace, many of whom harbor secret hope his family will one day be restored.

The prince, despite being quite eligible, has not settled on a bride. His handlers have broached the topic of a reality TV show, a graceless suggestion that has not sat well. Discretion has always been important to the prince.

Also, he likes to sleep around. The prince is a slut. A discrete slut.

Endeavor

Chet sat his desk daily in four-hour shifts from 6am to 7pm, with fifteen-minute breaks in between. The working conditions weren’t the worst he’d encountered. At least they had a ceiling fan.

Chet’s job was to type the word “endeavor.” When he was first hired, sixteen years ago, his word had been “the,” but then Peterson had died and so he got promoted.

Every fifteen seconds, a new page was handed to him, and he typed his word. Then the page was taken away, and a new page came. They were distributed randomly, going from station to station, until they had 120 pages. Mostly the scripts were incoherent gibberish, but every once in a while, they’d have a blockbuster.

Though Chet didn’t think it was a very efficient system, Hollywood found it cheaper than training monkeys to use a typewriter. Chet certainly wasn’t going to complain. It beat crunching numbers.

Today's story is exactly 150 words, but you get it for the same low price as always!

A Hollywood Story

Gordon flipped through the damning evidence of a conspiracy at the highest levels and deliberated his next move.

The studio had hired him as an archivist, not a conscience. But he imagined his son's reaction if he ever learned Gordon had helped conceal the truth. Hollywood had purposefully been making inferior movies for decades, knowing that if filmgoers were provided with quality films, they'd become enlightened and no longer seek out the comfort of movies.

Gordon eventually returned the files. After reflecting upon his extremely large salary, he decided his son would want him to keep his damn mouth shut.