Cannibal Joker Holocaust.

I'm going to review The Joker after never having seen the film. I dreamt it one night. Got up early and wrote this. It's as simple as that. I obviously know what the film is about as I dont live in a cave without the internet. The film made me see it although I never had a burning desire to do so. Through advertising billboards it stalked me. With reviews on podcasts I was blanket bombed. The colours. The fashions. That little dance on the steps. The film was invading my mind. The night before I dreamt it,  I listened to my favourite film podcast. The two hosts hated the film and ripped it to shreds. Anyway back to the dream.

I was in Grand Central Station late at night. Nobody was about. Well that never happens. There were just a few bodies. Pushing brooms. Looking in litter bins. I found an unnamed office. Its door was ajar. Inside Steve Buscemi was watching video tapes of old films. He offered to sell me some acid. As he was rooting around in his bag, John Travolta entered the office wearing blackface. He was with The Baseball Furies gang from The Warriors. I SCREAMED IN HIS FACE. So he left. Steve was unimpressed. He gave me the acid but said there was a catch. I had to go to Turkey to get a tape of one of his earlier films, In The Soup, on VHS. I really wanted the acid so I agreed. He gave me an ultimatum. If I didn't come up with the.tape in two days, he would have my family killed. I set to work.

Being a dream, the country of Turkey wasn't to be found in the usual place. 

It was a boat ride away from New York. A few hours tops. There was a problem. To get back into Turkey.I Had to be crucified. It was the only way to get a Visa. The journey up river was fraught with danger. Snakes as thick as your leg were chopped with machetes. Pygmys fired arrows down on us like hail. One of the crew fell overboard and some piranhas had him. It was hell. When we disembarked at Turkey I got led to a dusty market square. I was knocked to the ground. When I came back round it was due to the pain of having six inch nails driven through my hands and feet. I was then hoisted upright and left for what felt like hours in the vile sun. I had no water. When they finally let me go. I ran through the audience of people watching. I stole a kids ice cream and headed for some shops I knew. I found the little bazaar. All dusty. Full of cages. Hellraiser boxes were lined up against one wall. For the tourists?

Art Malik came to serve me. He had aged brutally. He had a long white beard and no teeth. He looked at the blood soaked bandages covering my hands. He handed me the video tape. It had written on it, In The Soup, on the spine. I opened it and a scorpion dashed out. Black and shiny. I gasped and nearly dropped the box. Art Malik put in the tape and I ran out of the shop.i went to find the airport.

The planes to New York were sold out for days. I found a massive wad of money in my pocket. Pulled it out and fanned my face. Trying not to get any blood on it. I got escorted by security to a small office. Inside Nancy Pelosi and Hillary Clinton were sat on thrones made out of human skulls. The skulls lower down were blackened as if singed. As if they had both flown to Turkey on them. Anyway I digress. The aging Democrat whores said they had a job for me. They handed me a box cutter and told me that I had been selected by the State Of Israel to crash land a DC10 full of passengers into Times Square. In the name of White Supremacy. They explained that they needed an event to change the narrative from Islamophobia. To something more 2021. I would be seen boarding the plane wearing a red cap. I looked at the time. I only had a few hours left. I asked for a parachute. They handed me one. Woody Harrelson would be my co pilot. He was waiting for me at gate 1. I had to Hurry. When the plane was airborne we both took off our red caps and stormed the pilots cabin. No one was hurt or killed. Yet. In half an hour we were flying into US airspace. They had instructed me to scream YEEHAW!! Into the radio as we came down towards Times Square. I suppose it was supposed to be like Allah Akbar or something. It was a bright sunlit day. People were going about their business, wearing masks. I grabbed my parachute. It felt lumpy. I opened it and found that it was full of potatoes. Woody and myself pushed our controllers up and forward. Causing the plane to steep dive with a roar. It was like being in a huge tumble dryer full of broken glass. I looked at the videotape on the dashboard. In The Soup. Clouds of fire started to engulf us.

Empty food trays pulverized me along with people and bags. YEEHAW!! My spirit left my body and kind of bounced like a pinball off all the souls I had taken to Hell. In the anger, dismay, hysteria, I felt the holes in my hands weld shut. Two vortex horns of flame greeted me. I was a deep fried patsy. An ice cream pawn in the game. Melted down for parts.

I was reincarnated as a street pigeon. It was disgusting what I had to now eat. Kicked away by everyone. Always alone. Even hated by my own kind. Just as my human consciousness was melting away to be replaced by bird brain. I saw a newspaper. The headline? 

White Supremacists attack New York.