Hey, Amir Bar-Lev, director of the recently-purchased-by-Amazon documentary about the Dead. Whatcha doing?

“Sundance, baby.”

Congratulations, buddy.

“The boys are playing a little set at the party, and then the movie’s screening has been scheduled.”

That’s an odd and lawyerly way to phrase that.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Goddammit, are you going to steal the film?

“IT’S NOT DONE! I just need another 18 months. Three years, tops.”

Amir.

“I just have to do a few more edits and a couple reshoots, and also I’ve rethought the whole third act.”

Amir.

“What if Garcia lives?”

“Did you see Rogue One?”

Do not make CG Garcia.

“ILM has made some incredible strides with beard replication.”

How do his eyes look?

“Like a cheap doll.”

Do not make CG Garcia.

“There are other options. I could take old footage of him and Forrest Gump it into new scenes.”

No.

“My agent knows John Goodman.”

No.

“There’s always alternative options.”

Amir? Pal? Boss? If you even look at that damned Time Sheath, I’ll scoop your eyeballs out of your head and feed them to ducks.

“Not the Time Sheath. No, not the Time Sheath.”

Then what am I missing?

Oh, goddammit.

“AH WILL FINALLY KARATE WITH HAIRY GARCIA USIN’ MAH HOLLYWOOD CONNECTIONS AND TIME PARKA.”

Aren’t you supposed to be at the White House?

“ISS LIKE NO ONE ‘ROUND HERE UNNERSTANDS THE POWER OF A TIME MACHINE, MAN.”

Yeah, okay. Stay out of this.

“AH WILL FINISH MAH SOUP, AN’ AH WILL TAKE THE JEWISH FELLOW TO FIND HAIRY GARCIA. IT IS MAH DESTINY. AH AM THE LAST ELVIS.”

Great.

“YOU WAN’ SOME SOUP?”

What kind is it?

“SOME SORT O’ BISQUE.”

Pass.

“MORE F’R THE KING.”