don't tell me not to dance, dad

Ahem. As per my last post:

My mom and I, very intelligently, decided to take a nice, scenic walk yesterday amongst all the mushy, greying snow-slush. Meaning we passed the Magic Mike bus stop again. Meaning we have new movie pitches!

Duly, I shall record them now, so that future generations can study and enjoy them. And so current generations can have a fun time mocking me:


-- Mike loses control and bites a couple of kids at the park, so a tearful Salma Hayek brings him to the vet to be euthanized.

-- He travels back in time for some reason! To 17th century New England, where if you move your pelvis the wrong way, you're a witch!

-- It turns out Mike has a rich, elderly uncle or something who dies, naming Mike his sole beneficiary. The catch? It's stipulated in the will that if Mike ever dances another step, he forfeits the entire fortune. The uncle is played by Stanley Tucci, badly CGIed to look three hundred years old.

-- While giving some random person a lap dance, Mike receives a religious vision. The Bleeding Eyes of Christ, et cetera, et cetera. The rest of the movie is just him slowly giving away all his possessions and preparing to join a very strict order of Cistercian monks. No one in his life attempts to talk him out of this; it's the best decision he's made in years.

I'm actually surprised none of these is an alien abduction thing. If there's one thing my mother likes, it's a good alien abduction. But then, she takes them seriously; like, she *really* believes that this happens, and so I'm gonna hazard a guess that she doesn't think it belongs in a stripper movie? That it'd be, I don't know, an insult? To the aliens? I could ask. But then she'd talk about it. For a long time.

Also: One of these is about sixty percent mine. Can you figure out which? You probably can.