News is out that the copyright on Steamboat Willie—known commonly as the archaic Mickey Mouse—has expired, meaning that anything related to the old cartoon is up for grabs in the public domain and anyone, or any lighthouse, can use the steamboat willie characters in whatever way they choose.
Bobby Beacon has taken incredible inspiration from last year’s Winnie the Pooh-themed horror film, “Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey,” and hopes to use Mickey’s image to achieve similar success. This is his time to make it big! Forget being a college mascot! Bobby’s going to Hollywood, baby! He would direct and produce the film with the students’ tuition money, and of course, he’d be the headlining star. It was then that Bobby sent out a Google Form over Craigslist, in search of victims… STARS! Co-stars.
Meanwhile, while Bobby entered the early stages of pre-production, Mickey was out looking for work, and like any washed-up actor, he was willing to pick up any job. He was in desperate need of the money, and it showed through his formerly beautiful, custom Disneyland-quality shorts that now looked like something you’d find in a Times Square dumpster. He ain’t getting those royalties any more, and he spent all of his savings in an underground gambling ring. When he saw Bobby’s ad for a Mickey-type actor he thought to himself, “Perfect! This is gonna be easy money!”
One Month Later
“CUT!”
Bobby halted the scene for the 43rd time. It was the most important one in the entire movie, so it had to be perfect. However, everything behind the scenes was far from perfect. Fights were breaking out every other second within the cast, the craft services were worse than the dining hall food and the movie was bound to be a box office bust.
“Bobby, this movie stinks, and you know it!” Mickey screamed from across the set, having had enough of Bobby’s directorial style.
“Shut it, rat. No one cares what you have to say.” Said Bobby, hardly sparing him a glance.
“Everyone cares what I have to say. I’m Mickey god d— Mouse!” Retorted Mickey, the fragments of his shattered ego finally reassembling themselves.
Bobby got so pissed off at Mickey’s newfound confidence that he shined his beacon right into his beady little eyes. Mickey, in retaliation, ripped off his giant hat and threw it to the ground and roundhoused Bobby like Bruce Lee.
A rumble broke out causing everyone on set to gather around. There was chanting, dollar bills flying in the air and cameras catching every angle. When there was a break in the action, Mickey put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. He had called in the rest of the Fab Five for backup—not that he needed it or anything, he just wanted to take it easy on himself. Someone hooked up their music to a speaker and not before long, “Monkeys Spinning Monkeys” by Kevin Macleod started to blare. Now this was cinema!
After what seemed like years, the fight finally settled down. Everyone was out of breath, bruised, bleeding and just plain tired. Bobby managed to get up and hobble over to his director’s chair where he realized the entire brawl was caught on camera. “OMG, we captured gold!” He exclaimed, already scheming as to what he could do with the footage in the editing room. He could totally spin this to make himself look like the heroic lighthouse, the beacon of hope, against these demented mascots. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the clicking of a lighter. Bobby turned to see Mickey sparking up a cigarette.
“Ya know, pal. You may be trying to make me and my buddies into horror movie monsters,” he said to Bobby as he blew smoke into his face. “But everyone knows that you’re a gazillion times scarier than anything to ever exist.”
Bobby was silenced by this statement. He couldn’t deny the fact he was naturally scary. “All I wanted was to be a star, Mickey. Can’t you relate? And by the way, if you’re going to smoke, could you at least not blow it directly in my face? I have asthma, you know.”
“No can do. I was crafted by a genius artist and businessman. Only the Lord knows where you came from.” Mickey took another drag and exhaled even closer to Bobby.
“Don’t make me beam you again!” Threatened Bobby.
“It’s not worth fighting anymore,” said Mickey. “Besides, while we were having this stupid discussion, my boy, Goof, was destroying all the tape of the fight. In fact, he destroyed every ounce of this nightmare of a movie. Your dream of stardom is over. Finished. You will never work in Hollywood again!”
Bobby didn’t even have the energy to lunge at the mouse. He just dropped to his knees in failure. I guess being a star will have to wait for another day.
“See Ya, Pal!” Never coming this summer or really any season.