The crops were growing all over Marvin’s Gardens that Spring. Things were in full blossom! And as a happy sun shone over the land, there came a sound so great it shook the thistles from the dandelions…
THUMP-THUMP… THUMP-THUMP… THUMP-THUMP
Why, it was Diablo Cody riding in the pouch of Clopper the Kangaroo!
“Faster, Clopper!” Diablo screamed, “Yippeeeeeee….”
And as they came upon the great old oak tree, Clopper stopped and Diablo jumped from his pouch with great joy.
“Thanks, Clopper!” She said, patting him on the head. “You’re the best!”
And Clopper thumped his feet with happiness and took off with a cloppity-clop!
The great oak tree was Cody’s favorite place in the whole world! It was where she could sit and think and write her movies, which are like books but unjustifiably expensive and with smaller chances of being finished.
And once Diablo climbed the rope ladder made of bacon and knocked three times on the magical branch shaped like her academy award, the great oak tree opened its doorway made of tiramisu cake and Diablo was home!
She climbed into her hammock shaped like a spider’s web and began to write her stories. And when the happy sun had descended beneath the edge of the crop, night fell upon Marvin’s Gardens and Diablo fell asleep.
The next morning, Diablo was awakened to such a clatter that she nearly fell out of her hammock with surprise!
BANG… BANG… BANG…
“What is that noise?” She wondered.
Diablo put on a pair of fashionable yet overly priced jeans from Urban Outfitters and rushed outside to see what was going on.
A furry creature hammered a poster into the side of her tree. Diablo called down to him.
“Scowly? Is that you?”
And when he looked up she recognized him immediately. It was Scowly the Mole!
“Scowly, what are you doing up so early? It’s still morning!” Diablo asked as a butterfly landed upon her shoulder and became a tattoo.
But Scowly just scowled with bitterness.
“Grrrrr…” he said, “I’ve been up all night with the other moles. We held a forum and decided we don’t like you, Diablo Cody!”
Scowly curled his paws around the hammer, his fingers withered from jacking off at internet porn while writing snarky statements about the loglines he read on Zoetrope.
“But for why, Scowly?” Diablo asked, blinking her eyes quite innocently and adorably.
“You don’t deserve to live in that great big oak tree while we live underground!” Scowly growled, being a total cunt. “So we’ll fix you! Look around the garden!”
And Diablo looked around Marvin’s Garden. Everywhere the moles had put up posters of Diablo with words like “whore” and “slut” and “bitch”, which are words that men use to describe women when they can’t get any pussy because it justifies their feeling of rejection.
Diablo looked sad.
“But I never did anything to you. Why would you want to say such horrible things about somebody you don’t even know? What gives you the right to judge me?” Diablo asked, her tears turning into ladybugs which flew away.
Scowly furrowed his neck-beard introspectively.
“Because I was offered a gig to write a straight-to-video Hellraiser sequel.” Scowly answered. “And that makes me king dingaling of screenwriting.”
Pleased with his sense of misappropriated anger, Scowly burrowed his fat useless ass into the dirt and was gone, presumably to work on that Hellraiser script the entire planet was waiting for.
Diablo went back into her tree and laid in her spider web hammock and cried for roughly five seconds. And then inspiration struck!
“I know!” Diablo said.
And with great haste she ran into her closet and retrieved a bag the size of a baby whale. Inside were piles of cash so large you could stack them to the ceiling. Spilling the greenbacks on the floor, Diablo threw off her clothes and proceeded to roll around naked in her money, quickly forgetting what Scowly and the moles had done.
“Suck my dick wit’ yer Hellraiser sequel,” Diablo sang, throwing gobs of cash playfully into the air.
And as another night descended upon Marvin’s Gardens, Diablo lay naked in her money pile while her tattoos came to life so they could put all her money into neat piles.
Meanwhile, Scowly set his Hellraiser sequel in a high school and wrote numerous scenes in which Pinhead was dressed up as a teacher or a janitor in somebody’s nightmare but nobody really gave a shit and it never got made. Two weeks later Scowly hung himself using his belt.