See? We should have stopped right there. It was that third time that did it. Someone spoke her name one too many times into the ether and up she rose, from the sulphuric depths of Planet Skank, and a plague was unleashed upon us. We haven’t been able to shake her off since.
And now she’s here, running amok, trashing everything in sight, sucking us into her whoring vortex of evil. Just like Beetlejuice. Remember him?
Remember how he seemed so harmless at first (albeit weird and goofy), offering to help the newly-dead couple rid the living from their house? “Just call my name three times,” he said. The dead couple was wary of him, skeeved out by his general demeanor and appearance. But then they became desperate and called on him as a last resort. And up he came, seemingly eager to help, but then, in an instant, he turned on them and became dangerous and crazed, a demonic presence determined to beguile at first, and then destroy…just for kicks. Just because he could. The dead couple, by conjuring him, had inadvertently given him the power. And once he had it, it was virtually impossible to get it back.
We did this. This is all our fault. We’re the ones who summoned her here. Sure, we didn’t know what we were doing. We thought we were just curiously gazing upon another minor socialite’s train wreck. But this is no minor socialite. This is the devil’s spawn, and that train wreck of a sex tape was just a trick to get us to conjure her up, and we fell for it. And now we’re stuck. We flung the door wide open for the beast. She’s been chewing up the scenery ever since she got here, and soon there won’t be anything left.
Her most recent trashfest came just two nights ago (you can count on her for at least one a week). As she was leaving super-hot club-of-the-moment, LAX, Paris ragged the place to the paparazzi as they clamored around her, hungry for photos and attention.
Last night, when TMZ caught Paris and her sister Nicky running from the club to another one nearby (Mood), Paris flat-out dissed Club LAX to the sea of paparazzi, saying that “LAX is the worst club in the world.”
Then she said, “It’s full of D-list celebrities.”
(If that’s not enough for you, here’s the actual video that goes with it.)
And so, just like that, Paris probably set in motion the imminent folding of Club LAX, which, not-so-coincidentally, happens to be co-owned by DJ AM, Nicole Richie’s ex who recently broke her barely-beating heart by calling off their engagement and summarily dumping her. The buzz on the street is that Paris did this for her estranged BFF. She knew that if she dissed the joint, LAX would be toast, and DJ AM would suffer for what he did to Nicole.
Seriously, folks…we’ve gotta do something about this girl. Before she destroys us all. Before she f*cks up everything. Before there’s nothing left but scorched earth, rampant chlamydia, and thousands of herpetic walking wounded with the psychic scars of half-a$$ed sex.
It’s going to take a collective effort on our part, a mind-meld of gargantuan propor…Heyyyyyyy. Wait a second. We already have the answer!! It was right here in front of us all the time!! The Beetlejuice in the movie was ultimately destroyed. There was something that was able to take him out. All we have to do is use the movie as our guide, replicate what they did, and we can be rid of her!!! Yes!!! Perfect!!! We can make her go away!!!
Anybody know where we can get one of these?