Katherine Heigl lit a cigarette and emasculated her husband for awhile. Then she called a reporter and said “feminism” and hung up. Katherine Heigl tucked her dick into her pants and hiked her pants up and smoked another cigarette and yelled at a puppy. Katherine Heigl taped a picture of Gwyneth Paltrow on the wall, and under that picture she wrote “Ideal Dream Woman To Become, But Meaner,” and then she burned out the eyes on Gwyneth Paltrow’s photo with the end of her cigarette. She stared at the photograph, and venom, literally snake venom, pooled at the corners of her twisted mouth. She called her agent and emasculated him for awhile. She called her yoga instructor and emasculated him for awhile. She called the makers of Gray’s Anatomy and told them all how ungrateful she was for the opportunity to be on their show, and how she hated everything that they had ever done for her, and didn’t they realize who she was, she was Katherine Heigl, and it was five minutes before she realized that there was just silence and static on the other end of the phone, because the makers of Gray’s Anatomy had given up on caring about the self-involved complaints of Katherine Heigl years ago.
It was time for Katherine Heigl to meet with Stefan Spellberg, the director of her new movie: Some Shrill Woman Who Works In Television Falls In Hesitant Love Eventually. Katherine Heigl was smart, and her ideas were taken seriously, and she had a lot of ideas, so she got in her car. She put on Meredith Brooks, “I’m a Bitch,” and she sang along. Of course she did.
The meeting was in a small, windowless production office. Katherine Heigl demanded a window be cut into one of the walls. She refused to participate in the meeting until this was complete. A week later, they reconvened the meeting. Katherine Heigl’s no-fat soy latte was not the right temperature, and she threw it in an assistant’s face. The assistant began to cry. “I hope those tears are a new no-fat soy latte that is 78 degrees, and I hope you’re collecting those tears in a cup with a paper sleeve so that I don’t burn my hand.” Katherine Heigl carried a thermometer in her purse for measuring the temperature of her no-fat soy lattes, and she was certain that one day she would stab someone with it.
“So, I wanted to see if you had any ideas about your character,” Stefan Spellberg said. “Anything that maybe isn’t in the script that you’d like to see included in the movie.”
Katherine Heigl lit a new cigarette off of her half-finished cigarette and for awhile she was smoking two cigarettes. “Yes,” she said. “I’ve got a lot of ideas. If I wasn’t an actress I would probably be a professional Ideaser.”
“Well, that’s not a thing,” Stefan Spellberg said. “But I take your point.”
“Shut up, you’re sexist.” Katherine Heigl kicked a kitten in the face. “So, I was thinking about the character of Lisa, and how she’s a very serious, professional person, right? And how we live in a world where women have to work harder than men just to earn the same money and prestige as they do, right? And how ultimately, while this is a romantic comedy, there is something at the core of this movie that deals with the modern woman, and the attendant problems of trying to combine a career with a family, right? But, like, how those attendant problems should be the same for men and women, because the sacrifices that are required should not be limited to just one sex. It’s unfair!”
“Yes, I think that’s right.”
“So, I think that she should have a bobblehead collection.”
“A bobblehead collection.”
“You think that she should have a bobblehead collection.”
“You probably don’t even get it because you’re so caught up in the patriarchal paradigm.”
“If you want her to have a bobblehead collection, we can probably find a place to work it into the script.”
“Not on her desk, though.”
“She shouldn’t have a bobblehead collection on her desk, which is probably where you would try and put it because you’re a man, and because I have really important ideas about feminism.”
“Where should we put the bobblehead collection?”
“Oh my God, you’re the director! You figure it out.” Katherine Heigl stared into Stefan Spellberg’s eyes as she called her agent. “Why do you always make me work with such idiots. I’m so smart.” Katherine Heigl hung up her phone.
“Any other ideas?”
Katherine Heigl rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? I just fixed your movie.”
“I didn’t realize my movie needed fi–”
“Shut up. I fucked Joey Lawrence in 1994.”
Katherine Heigl demanded that someone get her a microphone.
“A what?” one of the assistants asked.
“Are you kidding me? You’re fired.”
“You don’t really have the power to fire me.”
Katherine Heigl called her agent to see if this was true. She rolled her eyes and hung up the phone. “Please, just get me a microphone.”
An hour later, an assistant returned from Best Buy with a microphone. Katherine Heigl instructed him to open it and hand it to her. He opened the packaging and handed Katherine Heigl the microphone.
“Katherine Heigl, Master of Ideas, OUT!” she said.
Katherine Heigl dropped the microphone on the floor, and left the room.