Blatantly swiped from the always brilliant Lance at Filmdrunk.
Das ist za new traila for mein new movie, Bad Lieutenant.
First, I varn you. Zees movie I make, ees not for eweryone. I do not
make zees movie for bouncing, rosy-cheeked boy oont girl whose laughter
burns mein ears like za morning sunlight burns mein skin. Zees movie,
ees not meant for cheeldwen, housevifes, zee elderly, or Juden. Mein
movie, I make for zose who haff vorked as lockpicks, bouncers een sex
clubs, fluffers at rave parties, deesgruntled dildo merchant — za true
poets uff za vorld! Za hero uff mein movie ist ein policeman, who
start off wholesome, like disgusting rule-folloving bubishcout. Zen
one day, za policeman meet Xzibit. Zen he take za drugs, zen he take
za whores, zen murder, zen iguanas — he begin to live like za true poet!
Oont I choose for mein lead role za horrible forehead monster,
Neekolas Cage. Because ven I look eento za eye uff za Cage monster, I
see only blackness, zee cold eendifference uff true poetry. I vould
say to him, “Release za pigs!” Oont za Cage monster vould shout, “YES,
MEIN FÜHRER!” A true soldier. Oont ven za producers come, viss their
herbal teas oont yoga classes, zey tell me, “But Verner, ve are sad,
for ziss movie haff too many iguana.” Zo I tell zem, zees sniveling
urine-pants, zat eef zey take mein iguana, I vould cut off mein nose
oont mail it to za pope, for zat ees poetry. Oont za Cage monster, it
agrees. I train za Cage monster to luff zee iguana. Zen za producer, he
decide he vill let me haff mein iguana, because he fear for za Cage
monster. Oont zees, zees ees za most important sing you vill ever
learn about za movie business.
