Dear Honorary Mayor of Hollywood
30 July 2003
Office of the Honorable Johnny Grant
9800 Sunset Drive
Hollywood, CA 90028
To the Honorable Honorary Mayor Grant,
I write you this letter in desperation. I have tried to appeal to anyone who will listen but no one wants to act. You see, as we speak, there is an insidious presence in Hollywood that threatens the very foundation on which your fine city is built. I speak not of the many hookers and drug dealers that roam the Sunset Strip across from Mann’s Chinese Theater at any given time. If it were up to me, these activities would not even be illegal. No, I speak of a far more dangerous and immediate problem: Ashton Kutcher.
From 2000’s Dude, Where’s My Car? to the impending release of 2004’s Seriously, Dude, Where’s My Car?, Mr. Kutcher’s work systematically seeks out other films, infiltrates them, and releases a viscous liquid best described as “gooey,” thereby destroying the film for viewing. In my home laboratory, I’ve conducted several experiments that will prove this theory. In fact, I placed a copy of 2002’s Just Married next to a copy of Henry Fonda’s film 12 Angry Men. Within five minutes, the Just Married DVD had taken a hold of the Fonda film and rendered it totally useless. This is the threat to which I refer.
The mastermind behind this foul plot is none other than Mr. Kutcher himself. Though he comes off as so stupid that he needs someone to ties his shoes for him, this is merely a façade. Mr. Kutcher is a devious criminal, capable of God only knows how many more film atrocities. His résumé already includes such fiendish titles as My Boss’s Daughter (starring his devilish female counterpart Tara Reid) and Texas Rangers. Mr. Kutcher is only 25. I cannot even begin to speculate what other heinous cinematic crimes this man has in him. He must be stopped.
That is why I turn to you, Mr. Mayor. Though your title is merely that of a symbolic figurehead, I am hoping that you can perhaps wield some of your cinematic influence and help me in my quest to rid Hollywood of this invidious presence. His mere existence undermines the legitimate actors that you have working in your fine city, quality film stars such as Jason Biggs, Freddie Prinze Jr., and Mr. Kutcher’s Dude, Where’s My Car? co-star, Seann William Scott.
Help us, Johnny Grant. You’re our only hope.
Regards,
Geoff Wolinetz