I hate new movies. Seriously, is there anything more lame than wasting two hours of your life, watching some recycled piece of garbage that you can essentially watch on every friggin' TV station. Recently, it seems that all the cinema has to offer is remakes, sequels, prequels, commercials in the form of movies, rip offs, spin offs, and Jude Law films. When did the cinema become so lame? What has the world come to when Nora Ephron can make an updated version of Bewitched, yet I am relegated to posting my thoughts on some half assed blog? I could easily write a screenplay to Bewitched. I'm just as talentless as Nora Ephron, maybe even more so. In fact, just to prove my point that it doesn't take talent to make a film, I wish to submit my screenplay for Bewitched. Enjoy!

INT. Daytime. The camera fades into a kitchen, where SAMANTHA the lovable witch is making breakfast for DARREN, her husband. Darren enters the kitchen fixing his tie.

Darren: Samantha, have you seen Garfield?

Samantha: No! I can't say that I have.

Darren: Oh! What's for breakfast?

Samantha: Taco Bell!

Darren: Samantha, I'm getting sick of Taco Bell.

Samantha: FINE!

Samantha wiggles her nose. The Taco Bell is transformed into McGriddles.

Darren: Now, that's more like it! I love McGriddles.

Samantha: Darren, I need to talk to you about something.

Darren: What?

Darren takes a sip from his coffee mug.

Samantha: I'm pregnant!

Darren spits out his coffee. He stumbles over a chair and lands on his head. He gets up, rubs his head a few times and faces Samantha.

Darren: WHAT?

Samantha: Yes! I'm pregnant and I want an abortion.

Darren: An abortion? That's not ethical!

Samantha: I don't care. I can't bring a child into this world.

Darren: But Jeannie....

Samantha: I'm Samantha.

Darren: Oh yeah! But Samantha, I want to have children.

Samantha: Fine, then you carry the child.

Samantha wiggles her nose. Darren looks down and sees that he is pregnant.

Darren: OH NO! OH NO! I can't live like this!

Darren jumps out a window. He manages to break both his legs, despite the fact that the window he jumped out of is five feet off the ground.

Just then Garfield walks in with a tray of lasagna.

Garfield: I hate Mondays.

The End!

You see, positive proof that it doesn't take talent to write a screenplay.