Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice is arguably an even bigger hype than Star Wars 7. Do you know why? Of course you do! Because everybody fucking loves superhero duels. I can’t set foot in my workplace for more than 4 seconds without hearing 12 people having these "conversations":
"Iron Man vs. Captain America?"
"Black Widow vs. Atom Girl?"
"Brainiac vs. Captain Epic?"
"Hulk vs. Green Lantern?"
"Psssshhh, really? Hulkster."
We love that shit. It’s apparently encoded in our DNA by intelligent design. God: "Hmm, I need to give them basic, instinctual biological drives to ensure their survival. I know! Food, sex, and DC Comics character-comparing. Make it so."
So Batman vs. Superman is the perfect recipe for box office gold. And, not content to let a good formula go unbeaten-to-death for years and years, studios are planning a litany of similar films that will stretch into the next Ice Age.
But what happens when they run out of superheroes? Hey, they’ve got that covered too. They make the same movies, but about ordinary, non-superhero people and household objects.
Here is a partial list of films planned for release in 2035 by major studios…
Lipitor vs. Xanax
Lipitor: I am Lipitor, Lord of the reductase inhibitors and supreme ruler of the universe. Do my bidding or die, mortal. You have greatly underestimated my powers.
Xanax: Oh, really? What are you gonna do? Lower my cholesterol? Bahaha!
Lipitor: You dare to laugh at me? Have you read my side effects? Allow me to educate you. Brain hemorrhage, erectile dysfunction, bladder fungus, cardiac arrest, gas gangrene, seizures, internal bleeding, and instant death. Are we still amused?
Xanax: In .004% of cases, if I’m not incorrect. My chances of winning Powerball are greater than of your lame ass doing anything. But maybe I’d better watch my mouth, lest you give me MILD STOMACH UPSET. Bahahaha!
Lipitor: You dare to question my powers? As supreme ruler of the beta-statin domain, I will exile you to the over-the-counter realm. Say hello to your new neighbor, Chapstick. Hmmm, I’m feeling kinda sleepy. And I have this strange compulsion to listen to the Indigo Girls. Soooo sleepy…
Al Roker vs. Willard Scott
Al: There’s an arctic air mass moving in from Canada which could cause freezing temps in upstate New York throughout the next 72 hours.
Willard: That cold air is emanating from your mom’s vagina, you gigantic fucking douchebag. I just found out about your deal with NBC back in 1999 to have me demoted to assistant deputy meteorological consultant, a nice euphemism for "shoved out the door." You backstabbing, lying son of a bitch! I MADE you! When I found you in 1973, you were doing Afro-Sheen and Pop Tart commercials at a UHF station in Vicksburg, Mississippi. You are NOTHING! You hear me, boy? NOTHING! Me and Lauer oughta take you back to the plantation and show you how it is.
Al: Jesus, calm down, Willard. I had nothing to do with that decision and you know it. You’re just mad because of what happened at the bar last night.
Willard: Shut up! I don’t care about that bitch. You can have her and a hundred more for all I care. I have my Grape Nuts and my Tuesday night canasta game. I live a simple life and that’s all I need. It’s the principle of the thing.
Al: Principle? Really? Is that why you burned that cross in my dressing room and had HR convert my pay currency to food stamps? You racist horse’s ass, I hope you rot in your own Smucker’s jam vat!
Willard: Oh yeah? Well…Oh, hi Savannah, me and Al were just talking about fronts and shit. You know, cold fronts, hot fronts, that kinda stuff… (Wink, wink.)
Savannah: Oh, HELLO Al! Is that a warm mass of tropical air, or are you just happy to see me? (Wink, wink.)
Alpo vs. Gravy Train
Alpo: I am delicious and I am 100% meat and meat by-products without a speck of cereal.
Walmart Stocker: Hmmm, that’s interesting. Wow, they told me something like this might happen when I changed my meds. I’d better get my lithium level checked soon.
Gravy Train: Technically, that may be true, but do you REALLY think being composed of bovine assholes/gonads is cause for bragging? I, on the other hand, marinate in my own delicious, self-produced gravy.
Alpo: So do fat guys in Alabama. Your point?
Walmart Stocker: I remember taking two of the orange ones just like I’m supposed to this morning.
Gravy Train: My point, my sadly misinformed friend, is that, quite simply, I taste better than you. Capiche?
Walmart Stocker: Or did I just take one? I’m supposed to take the little white ones before bed, right?
Alpo: It would appear there’s only one way to find out. EAT ME, you over-processed, high-gluten piece of dog shit, er, food!
Gravy Train: (takes out shank) Come at me, bro!
Walmart Stocker: Wow, I’d better call the nurse right now.
Aquaman vs. The Clam
Aquaman: Wait a minute. What are we doing in this lame-ass list? We are real superheroes.
The Clam: Let’s not get carried away, sir. And even if you are, which is a bit of a stretch, I don’t think I’m even real. I think he just made me up because he thought The Clam was a funny-sounding name. He could’ve made me The Dildo, The Virgin Airways Flight Attendant, The Tile Grout, Irritable Bowel Syndrome Man, Tampon Boy, Septic Toe Fungus Girl, or a host of other much funnier-sounding names. But no, all he could come up with was The Clam. Fucking loser.
Aquaman: Good point. This site is slipping, man. Think I’m gonna go look at CollegeHumor. At least they have animated boobs.
The Clam: Yup. By the way, do you know where I can get some good vitamin water?
Aquaman: No clue. Sorry.