He had finally purchased the original Leonardo

He had finally purchased the original Leonardo da Vinci codex. After much restoration he noticed a series of images on the corner in invisible ink. Flipping the pages, he saw

what no other man had ever seen, Da Vinci's rendition of the Da Vinci Code. He could clearly see in the sketches Tom Hanks going after some albino monk going after the Mona Lisa

going after Da Vinci going after Tom Hanks (sexually, of course). In fact, all five of them were "going after" one another, thereby creating the first ever Love Pentagram.

But it was boring evilness. The most older, white male hair-thinning lacklusterness that had graced the cinema since

1896, or so it seemed, would become obsolete now that the digital age was in full swing. They would become fossils in some cinema museum, together with the projectors and the

highly flammable cellulite stock (or whatever it's made from). And TCM would have to pay for its upkeep and show them Sunday nights (except lately, what's the deal with that?).

Turner Classic Movies was getting lazy. It's like their Sunday shift had been taken over by monkeys who just banged on buttons, pulled levers, and flung terrible programming at

the masses, and I fucking hated monkeys. The Turner Broadcasting has crossed the final line. I slung my AKM assault rifle over my shoulder and set out to put an end to the primates

and their hold on Ted Turner. I walked into the lobby. No humans anywhere. Even the desk clerk was an ape stuffed into an ill-fitting suit. I blew his head off first. His eyes flew

out of their sockets & I momentarily reflected on the symbolism of that act...humans were blind to the warning signs. I shrugged. Survival of the fittest. Then I heard Ted scream.