When we last saw the monster Patinkin, he was systematically destroying the dreams of children. Let's peek back in, shall we?:
So, Randy, that's all you can expect: a downward spiral into desperation and futility. Sorry. Maybe if your parents were rich... or you were smart... or at least not ugly... But, oh well. Here's a "Chicago Hope" DVD for ya', kiddo. I'll even sign it for ya'! "Best wishes, 'The Patink'".
This is almost too much fun. But sadly, I think that may very well have possibly been quite probably in all likelihood the last child with dreams I could crush. At least within my reach. I should really get a car. Then I could-
PATINKIN! I knew I smelt you around! Now listen, we got ourselves a quiet little seaside mafia-run haven for meth labs and corporate tax shelters and I don't want a fancy-pants stage actor like yourself lousin' up the nest.
Oh, sure, sure. Real mature, Jarmusch. Y'know, it is a free country asshole. I rest my dogs wherever I needs to.
Okay, Patinkin, I don't want none of your metaphysical sleight-of-hand here. I just want to keep things nice and quaint, alright? If you can't get your head into that, then I'll think you'll find life here will get... complicated. And quick.
Wanna' donut?
Heh. Donut. Fuckin' funny. Man, I aint here to "get" into your "headspace" and "promote" a "vibrant" and "community-minded" "township" that "prides" "itself" with-
You can cut it with the fuckin' quotation marks ANYTIME, Patinkin.
Yah, yah, 'kay, no quotation marks, I hear ya'. But I aint here to placate the needs of your freekin' Shangri-goddamn-La yah farkin' got going friggin' here!
I'm HERE to FUCK SHIT UP!
You just don't get it, do ya'? You have no clue what you've stepped into coming to this little town-
-Err... giant, fast-paced metropolis... Anyway...
Just look, I'll cut your naive, ignorant, nicely-shaped and pleasantly plump butt a MAJOR break here. The city limits are a brisk 5 mile walk east. I suggest you head there. When you get to the big sign that says
"City Limits. Thank You for visiting, we sure hope you didn't contract AIDS"
... keep walking.
Oh, I see. It's all about the status-quo. And you're top dog here. Top dog of the status-quo. Whatta crock of shit. CROCK. OF. SHIT. You don't even know what I could do to your happy little circle-jerk ya got yerself set up here. What I could do to the people you love.
(What'd I tell yah, Tom? Guy's a total prick.)
So whatcha' gonna' do, Patinkin? Huh? Bring out yer little robot friend? Emotionally scar our children? We've been expecting you, Mandy. We've prepared for your arrival. You have no power here. Aint that right, Tom? Tom? Tom???!!!
gurgle
Okay, what'd you do to him, Patinkin? What'd you do TO TOM WAITS?!
Oh, nothing. You guys were ready, remember? Nah, I did nothing. Nothing much, that is. Just a little bit of horseplay, really. The ol' Mandy Patinkin charm. Laid it on thick this time. I gets to town this morning, I kin just feel the rush of a thousand collected anxious breaths being exhaled. I knew you guys run a tight little ship, figured you'd done your homework, got everything neat and tidy 'fore I reared my head. You were waiting. So's, I got to thinkin', you guys were impervious to my onlsaught. What could a lil' guy like "Tink" here do to shake things up a bit? Not much. All I could do was give this town what it really needed. And what it needed-
-was about this much Arsenic per liter in your drinking water!
You sick fuck! I'm calling my pal Megalon in on this case, you, you... you PROTOPLASMIC WASTOID!
Oh please, Jarmusch! You and your art house film friends are no match for "Patink: Master of Chaos". I will feast on your eyeballs, I will do macabre things to your vestigial organs, I will stalk eldritchly amongst your independent music stores haunting your pink-haired numb-skulled sycophantic followers, I will stick my wee-wee in every one of your-
Did you say Megalon?
RAAAAAAAARGGGGGGGGH! ...Jim, Tom.
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Megalon. Awww... shit.
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[hr]Will Patinkin get out of this predicament?
Will Megalon chow down on his soft asscheeks?
Can Jim Jarmusch find out why his nuts itch so bad, and
if so, do they make a cream or lotion for it?
Will anyone notice that Tom Waits is dead?
Well, I'm asking you. Will they?
SSss.... You just pissed Patinkin off, my friend. Not a smart idea!
... What'd you say bout my daddy, boy?
I'd get ED-209© to do it! lewl!
