Ah they may be cultural whores, but at least they pay attention to the needs of the public. ...Well I say pay attention to the needs of the public when what I really mean is they begrudgingly comply with laws that they all (with the exception of John 'Man Of The People' Cusack) spent millions trying to prevent coming into being. It is a little known fact - and don't presume I made it up just because you haven't heard of it; I mean I did just make it up, but there's the possibility that it's such a little known fact that even I didn't know of it, and my most recent attempt to be funny just so happened to ape real life - that celebrities are obliged to emit a warning alarm wherever they go. The eleventh hour negotiations ended with tea and biscuits, and the celebrities, represented by Nelson 'I Picked My Own Name' Mandela and Sissy 'What Did You Call Me?' Spacek, agreeing to theme tunes for those who could afford them instead of warning alarms. Dan 'I Was Famous Once' Aykroyd is the only one who screeches two-tonally (too easy to mention others).
Reasons? Reasons for this legislation are, unlike paper, eightfold: 1) To warn people if celebrities are approaching. 2) To give celebrities something to listen to when they're driven around staring vacantly. 3) To give the music industry a much-needed boost in this post-Smak Daddi era. 4) Just because. 5) To counteract the threat of rogue elements in former Soviet republics creating more celebrities than America has. (Ok, I'm struggling here; I just thought the paper thing was quite clever, but I've just ended up digging myself into a hole that I can only escape from by building a ladder made from shit). 6) Because Fyodor 'I'm Dead' Dostoyevsky's mother once had a duck in a sack that she would poke to warn people she was nearby, and someone thought it would be a nice idea if we were all a little more like Dostoyevsky's space lord mother mother. 7) If we don't do it, someone else will, and then where would we be? With less money, that's where. 8) Kiss my shiny arse Uma 'It Rhymes With Tumour' Thurman; I have power and you don't, and I'm gonna make you have to make a weird noise everywhere you go. More so than usual
What started off as a beautiful attempt to oppress celebrities has become a shallow fashion show. At Steve 'All My Films Have That Pointy Bird Poem In Them' Martin's weekly party where the great and good are locked out, the celebrities in their cages compare their warning noises. Julia 'No Relation' Louis-Dreyfus takes out the dehydrated (human body is 143% water) midget bassist she's had inserted in place of a molar, who plays the wikkabow bit from Seinfeld continuously. Cue strangled awe and cries of "Aww, isn't he cute" from Carrie 'I'm Like Princess 'Aren't You Glad She Did?' Di But Nice' Fisher, whose feels ashamed at the lack of effort that went into a laptop strapped to her back, playing an mp3 of her saying "Oooh my mother". As for David 'I Don't Sit On Wine Bottles' Beckham, well the least said the better about his self-penned rap which his wife breathes along to as the backing singers sing the melody bit which makes people buy it... Nah, mock the weak: "My name is David, I'm rapping, this is my alarm. Baby."
The police are claiming a 182% success rate in the solving of celebrity-related crimes since the introduction of these new measures. "We have a 182% success rate in the solving of celebrity-retarded crimes since the introduction of these new measures," said Graham 'Not Dead, Just A Police Spokesman' Chapman. He went on to explain that the missing 3% is due to Johnny 'I'm Actually Quite Good If You Think About It' Depp and Christian 'Me Too' Slater who refuse to wear the alarms for religious reasons, and so are languishing in a Turkish prison being penetrated by gently warmed truncheons and the blunt end of knives. ...And as for Bj 'Oooh My Neck Hurts' örk... well, that's an entirely different story altogether... It's the story of an Icelandic girl whose neck hurts. Pretty dull really.