By Nic Cage
Word to the wise; when you spend a quarter of a million dollars on a dinosaur skull, ask for a receipt. Because when The Man comes for it, they aren’t going to write you a check for your troubles, no sir. They’re just going to take your precious dinosaur skull that you paid so much for. Financially, mentally and even physically, because that Ghost Rider shit is hard to do and everybody was really mean to me about it. Not long after I purchased the dinosaur skull I started running low on cash, only eating whatever my cooks had thrown away the night before, as I could only pay them to make me dinner and could no longer afford breakfast or lunch. Perhaps I could have done away with the cooks and servants altogether and order out for significantly less, but I’m not a smart man, I’m a rich one. And I’ve been rich for far too long to change now. So long, in fact, that the only thing that makes me happy is to buy and own things. Some things everybody has. Some things that nobody else has.
One of those things was my precious dinosaur skull. It was one of my most prized possessions as it had cost me the most. Personally, I don’t really care for dinosaurs. They’re big, ugly and mean. I like things that are small, cute and nice. Unfortunately, I was unable to find the skull of a cute little kitten that was anywhere near as expensive of that of a dinosaur, so there I was, buying a dinosaur skull. Truth be told, DiCaprio really wanted it and I loved wiping the smile from his smug little face. God, that felt good to stick one to Mr. Nearly Flawless Choice of Roles. I hope you got your jollies when we saw each other at Barnes and Noble and you told me you were doing The Departed after I told you I was auditioning for a Red Lobster commercial. Don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing, Leo, you son of a bitch. It all felt right again when I watched your stupid little face fall when I bought that skull. It was almost still worth it, years later, having to sift through my own garbage like an animal to eat what I had deemed unworthy of consumption the night before while it was fresh. Almost.
When I was down and out I looked at that dinosaur skull and I saw the man I used to be. The man that starred in such films as Raising Arizona, Con Air, and maybe one of those Ghost Rider movies was okay? I don’t know, I didn’t see them, but remember Adaptation? Adaptation was a good-ass flick, man, and I was pretty darn good in it, you’ve gotta give me that! Even I was surprised! Half the time we were watching it at the premiere, I had to keep elbowing that Kaufman nerd and ask him if that was really me up there. Around the second or third time I asked him if he knew how they got two of me up there into the same picture he had the ushers remove me from the theater. I was mad at the time but I get it now. He was just so enthralled by my performance and he didn’t want to miss a moment. Whoever wrote that piece of shit must have been thrilled when I actually made it into something worthwhile. I should figure out who that is and give them a call. I bet they want to thank me. Not like some government officials.
One thing I don’t get is how the government can just come into my home and demand my property without any compensation. I didn’t steal the damn skull and I certainly didn’t kill the dinosaur. Now, sure, I didn’t ask the guy if he had illegally hunted this dinosaur but that was just so I could plead ignorance later in case anyone came looking for it. I know my rights better than just about anyone, I’ve played a cop and a bad guy after all, and I know for a fact that ignorance is 9/10ths of the law. That’s right, you thought you were messing with some stupid Hollywood mimbo (mimbo of course means “male bimbo” which seems kind of sexist but what do I know?) so don’t try to fuck with me, ’cause I’ll fuck you right back.
Give me back my dinosaur skull. I know this is bullshit, you know it’s bullshit and the whole damn paleontologist community knows it’s bullshit. What kind of world is this where a man can buy a dinosaur skull for a quarter of a million dollars then just 8 and a half years later have the G-men come knocking on his door saying it’s not his anymore? Excuse me? I’m Nic fucking Cage. Do you know anyone else on this planet that would look more badass standing next to a dinosaur skull that isn’t Mickey Rourke? No? I didn’t think so.
If you don’t want to give the skull back then at least give me some money for it. I’m not the hot commodity I was back in the ’90s. Sure, I get work, but I also live a very extravagant lifestyle. Just to maintain my current income, I’m signed on for twenty-three movies next year. If this keeps up I’ll be dead by the 2017 Holiday season. I can’t make any more Ghost Rider movies. I won’t. Okay, I will, but I really don’t want to.
I just need a little cash to get me to next Friday. I’m starring in a made for TV movie/infomercial.