Papercut

It’s no laughing matter.

What starts with a papercut ends with the corruption of the soul. Haven’t you seen Papercut III? Poor Teddy from the second movie ends up possessed. And here we are in the remake of Papercut VI and look who has a papercut.

What’s so confusing? Papercut is the name of the movie, the name of the killer, and the name of what the killer does to you. You wouldn’t think you could die from a papercut, but in the fourth movie they revealed that he’s supernatural, so his papercuts are fatal.

Don’t you know anything about the other movies in the series? They’re always changing the rules about the fourth wall. It used to be that the new characters came in ready to hit the ground running. Now, they want to spoonfeed the audience. Every time we start a new picture, we have to explain everything all over again. Where Papercut comes from, why he’s a killer, why he’s still alive even though it seems like he died in the last movie.

And as for not dying--

If you think I survived through all these awful films, two reboots, and a remake of the reboot only to die now so they can replace me with someone half my age, you’re mistaken. Who are you again? Did they find you from one of those online dance videos? Make yourself useful. Pull that jar off the shelf. The one labeled “Don’t Touch.”

It’s all right. You can touch it. I just wrote that on the label to scare off the screenwriters. You can’t leave mysterious jars on shelves without writers wanting to open them and play with things that are dangerous. That are lethal. You know what’s in that jar?

A plot twist.

Open it up, but be careful. No, no, don’t shy away now. You walked in on me performing my ritual. You interrupted the tradition that has kept me in this franchise for decades. It doesn’t matter whether you meant to or not. I wouldn’t necessarily assume you have the intelligence to try and take my place. You think I haven’t seen little nymphettes like you waltz through here every time they want to try and attract a younger audience? One time they even put up enough money to have an Oscar winner in the film. I think that was Papercut: The Revenge, but I can’t remember. There have been so many films and so many subtitles.

Open the jar already. We’re almost at the end credits. I can hear that horrible new song they commissioned from that band that does all the insurance commercials.

There’s no integrity in art anymore. Do you know that they made the first Papercut for less than fifty thousand dollars? Even with inflation, it would still be next to nothing. Then we grossed millions. Millions. Now, it’s a miracle if these movies break even, but they keep making them, because they’ve run out of ideas. Do you know what you’re looking at when you’re looking at me?

Original. Intellectual. Property.

I am not based on anything or anyone. I’m not adapted from a book or a play. I didn’t even have a last name until Papercut III. And here I stand before you--

A legend.

By the way, are you a virgin?

Don’t blush. You’re in a rated-R movie. And they keep pushing that envelope further and further every year. It used to be one f-bomb and a pair of breasts, and you’d be barreling towards an NC-17. These days, they’re adding in extra nudity to get us to that R or we won’t look cool enough. I offered to bare it all in the movie, but I can’t believably play a babysitter anymore, so nobody was interested. There’s more than one killer in this movie, kid, and I’m not talking about Papercut’s evil sister.

I’m talking about ageism.

Thank god I’m a character and not an actress. If I had to go to all those panels and fan conventions and talk about how great things are now for middle-aged women in Hollywood, I’d lay down on the ground and wait for Papercut to come get me. Thankfully, I don’t have to bother with any of that. I just need to outlast everyone else in this movie. Or at least most of them. I suppose you and I could both survive, but they don’t usually allow for two final girls.

But everything’s changing. The only thing that doesn’t is the virgin condition. Anybody who gives it up goes down. You sure you’re pure? Not even any heavy petting? Why are you laughing? Listen, I know my dialogue is a little dated. The last writer they had do a punch-up on the script was young enough to smell like a junior high cafeteria. He thought everybody over the age of forty speaks like a flapper in a talkie from the 20’s.

What kind of plot twist is in the jar?

I’m what?

Related to him?

No, that can’t be. I can’t be related to Papercut. Who would I even be? His daughter? His baby niece? His much younger second cousin?

His mother?

How could I be Papercut’s mother? I was sixteen when I was in the first movie. He was a grown man. This doesn’t make any sense.

Stop the ritual. I can’t let them use this plot twist. They’re going to say that Papercut traveled back in time in the first movie or something ridiculous like that. It’ll ruin the entire franchise. It’s not just about my own vanity. I barely have any vanity. I didn’t even wear eyeliner in the last movie. I’m just looking out for the series. People love these films. They’d be devastated if we jumped the shark like this. By the way, we actually had a shark in Papercut VIII. It was set in an aquarium, and Papercut threw all his victims into the apex predator tank. I think Rob the Quarterback was consumed by jellyfish, but I blocked most of that out. It was the worst entry by far.

Plus, it was in 3D.

Put that jar back on the shelf. We’re going to have to stay and fight. Do you know how to use a knife? A pistol? A chopped-up pizza box? If you’re going to be a final girl, you’ve got to get creative.

And wipe that smile off your face.

You can smile when the credits roll.