"Well, thank goodness all that hard work (that I did by myself) is done, we can head on hom-"
"I'm afraid we can't let you do that..." hissed a voice. The group turned, and saw a group of robed figures stride towards them.
"Who...who are you?!" he asked with mixed awe and disgust, feeling a disturbing force from the strange group.
"We...we are the the ones that fill your stores with the latest clothes and trends. We are the ones that give your children their heroes and idols. We are the ones that turn your novels and your games into Mainstream. WE are the ones that fill out your theaters and your DVD collections. We are....HOLLYWOOD."
"HISS! The defiler of Classics! The Horse-Beaters of Franchises!" Death cried, making a cross with his fingers.
"True, but also the creators of Quentin, Pulp Fiction, and all that is Pop Culture. Like the gods themselves, Hollywood both creates beauty, and destruction. But why does such a force confront us?" Ram asked, horns at the ready for battle.
"You sssee, my dear talking goat, one of our own hasss been taking into the ssservicesss of a foreign group...one who'sss unssstabilility and power we can't have in un-trained handssss..."
"And this person would be....?"
MEANWHILE, WHEREVER THE VILLAINS BE...
"Hey guys! Hey GUYS! You know what would be cool? What if, like, there was this mountain, and then suddenly, it EXPLODED! And and and a MOTORBIKE does, like, one of those spins over it!" Micheal Bay exclaimed, providing much visual and vocal examples to the group of villains and president.
