Movie Theaters Have Super Tall Ceilings ...

My basement doesn't.For that matter, neither does my living room, my dining room, my porch, my bathroom, my bedroom or my theater room. In the theater, with its 4,680 foot ceilings, the stand looked like it would fit in my home with at least 2 feet to spare. So, I decided to take it home after getting the okay from the theater manager (all you need to do is ask politely, suck a bit of penis, lick a small amount of clit, toss a little salad and bark like a dog) .

Anyone who's taken one of these apart or put one together knows what a gigantic pain-in-the-ass it is. Imagine Lego's. Now imagine Lego's made out of cheap 10 foot cardboard, no instructions and a complete lack of the ingenious design of Lego's. That would be a movie standee.

But I'm a trooper and I didn't care. I was so determined that, when a couple of teenagers tried to sneak in through the back entrance that I was dragging the standee out of, I said, "You can't enter here." Then one of them said they left their purse. Two males? A purse? I felt like kicking them in the nuts, but instead played security guard and told them that they need to pay if they want to play, but they said they couldn't pay because their money was in their purse.

Funny neither of them asked me why my girlfriend was backing a shitty van up to the door and what I was doing with a gigantic cardboard photo of Bruce Willis. Amazing the power of an authoritative voice.

Anyway, the standee was disassembled. Later it was reassembled in my basement with the idea of carrying it up the stairs and adorning my home theater with it. "Oh, it will fit with no problem," said my girlfriend. She said the same thing when I ended her virginity. She was wrong on both counts.

So the stand sits in my basement. Not one to waste a gargantuan Bruce Willis and not one to easily forget a PG-13 rated Die Hard film, I set my electronics' obsessed friend on a quest. I thought that the John McClane who couldn't say "Mother-Fucker" in the most recent PG-13 Die Hard, could make amends.

And he could do so with ping-pong.

Lots of sound clips were recorded. Lots of work was done. And now, whenever a ping-pong ball is thrown at the PG-13 John McClane, he says, "Yippee-Kay-Yay!" Whenever you hit him smack dab in the nose, he spits out a very "R" rated, "Mother-Fucker."

One of 6 that I have so far recorded and put on the chip. I plan on recording even more. I won't be happy until I can play table-tennis with myself for at least 60 minutes straight while hearing entirely new takes on the vulgar, adult-only, "Mother-Fucker."

Take that Fox. Take that and your pussy PG-13 rating and oversized stand that won't fit in my home theater and shove them both up your ass. Bet you never thought a game of ping-pong would bring about the most "R" rated John McClane yet. But you were wrong, mother-fuckers. Dead wrong.

Yippee-Kay-Yay!