Bitch, hes DEAD. He’s not getting you a new car, unless the Dominoes corporation weaseled their way into the estate and will. This curly-haired hooker makes Batman look like a pussy with her driving and henchmen evasion skills. Shes shrugging off explosions and smugly smiling at the vain attempts of the bad guys peeling her 1990 Pontiac Sunbird apart, so she can deliver her Gotham Pizza (TM) to Joker HQ. This fucking retarded commercial better make it off my TV lickedy-split.
I loathe crossover advertising, and the Gotham Pizza is the most disappointingly shameless yet. Extra pepperoni? Thats the pizza sorcery million-dollar think-tank juggernauts come up with? Oh, you’ve cut it into six slices instead of eight for wing effects. You clever fucking pizza genius’. If I shit myself in amazement and it has appears to have bat wings, how much can I expect on eBay, and whats Dominoes cut?
The star of the summer blockbuster killed himself, so obviously there’s money to be squeezed from every orifice. I knew this the second he was found balled up behind Mary-Kate & Ashley Olsens treadmill with 4th degree burns from the rubber treaded surface winding across his face for three hours until the maid found him. (Why so serious?) So, I don’t care about his legacy or anything. The real reason I am upset, is because in a few short years this commercial will be taken just as we have seen it an put into the movie, just because its was mailed to them in a burlap sack with a dollar sign on it.
The Whimsical MetaCognitionist Chronicles 