^really? Just wrecking people with serrated steak knives?
I need to take a full timeout here. My squad (me) looks confused out there. Didn't Freddy die like 9 times already between 1985 and I guess, now? I remember Ma Jeezy foolishly bringing me into her bedroom to spit some knowledge when "Nightmare on Elm Street" was playing in the background. I was scared, I'm not going to lie about it, but years passed and I put a few things together.
Dude kills you in your dreams, right? At some point you can control your dreams I figure. So what's the problem? Even if I couldn't control the things going down, I'm not even sure he can kill me. Sure he'd scratch me up pretty good, but we have Neosporin for that. Those knives look tired (pun intended) and clearly not of the Martha Stewart Collection. If I am able to decide what goes down, it'll be on some video-game shit in nightmare land. Like I will be doing some all weapons and infinite ammo cheats in there. Hiding being corridors klobb choppin' him in the back. Freddy will be so pissed off. Just flying around dropping missiles on his ass like a round of Space Invaders.
It would be like a piss poor Adult Swim show with a budget of roughly $34.6 million. Ebert and Roeper will give it like -3 stars and Rotten Tomatoes will bash it--i'll probably win a Razzie, dedicate it to God like everyone else does. Plus it will receive an NC-17 rating for the subsequent gore due to my all-weapons code and my sultry scene with Megan Fox.
This will be an awful, awful movie.
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