Jaufre Dupont, a pretentious film critic in the year 2016

You Jaufre Dupont, pretentious film-critic.

You spend all your time reviewing movies and discussing them with other people who are like you. They have names like The Red Baron or Mr. X. You also talk about movies on the internet. It's called "The Net". You can't remember what it was called before. You don't want to know. What do you really care?

Disney is releasing a film called Dr. Strange and you assume it's a remake of one of your favorite films, Dr. Strangelove. After watching the film, you write a passionate, angry review. You claim that Benedict Cumberbatch did a terrible job at impersonating Peter Sellers and that the sorcery had nothing to do with what Dr. Strangelove's supposed to be about. Lots of comic-book fans gets mad at your review.

They think you're an idiot. You feel bad for making fun of them. You try not to take offense to their insults because they make you laugh. You try to ignore the fact that everyone hates you. Then you watch another movie. A different one. And then another. You decide that you should stop being so sensitive. So you go back to writing your reviews and enjoying life.

A random commenter keeps spamming "I'm Spartacus" on your masterpiece of a forum. You find out it is your rival critic Brent Bockner.

He has been trying to get you to fight him. You don't see why he would do such a thing since you never fought each other in real life. But now you will have to settle this once and for all.

You organize a boxing match with Brent Bockner. You will fight him and televise the match on your YouTube channel.

> You don't fight him Why waste your energy fighting someone else when you could just sit back and enjoy yourself and your new found fame?

Brent Bockner hears about you backing out of the boxing match and begins to troll you super hard on your twitter account. He calls you "lame".

He says you're a loser. He claims you'll never succeed because you lack talent. He says you're stupid. He starts calling you a "stupid white boy" and tells you that you're a fraud. He makes disparaging remarks about your race. He says you're a racist. He calls you a bigot. He calls you a homophobe.

You ask Brent to be the Siskel to your Ebert and join you as a reviewer on your talking heads internet movie review show "The Net".

> You fight him! You send a tweet to Brent saying: @brent_bockner I am Spartacus and I am here to kick your ass! And then you wait. After an hour, you get no response from him. You continue to monitor his Twitter account.

You watch an old Rocky movie to get you pumped up.

You start tweeting him. @brent_bockner I'm Spartacus and I am here to kick your ass! And then you wait. After an hour, you get no response from him. You continue to monitor his Twitter account.You watch an old Rocky movie to get you pumped up. You start tweeting him.

You stop making reviews and keep tweeting horrible things to Brent until he responds.

@brent_bockner @Spartacus You're Spartacus and you're here to kick my ass! And then you wait. After an hour, you get no response from him. You continue to monitor his Twitter account. You watch an old Rocky movie to get you pumped up. You start tweeting him. You tell Brent to shut the fuck up.

You looks through Brent's old movie reviews. You find out his favorite movie is "Sound of Music". You tweet at him "Sound of Music licks my balls".

You say you hope he dies in a car accident. After a few hours, Brent tweets back to you. "@Spartacus You're Spartacus and you're here to kick my ass! And then you wait. After an hour, you get no response from him. You continue to monitor his Twitter account. You watch an old Rocky movie to get you pumped up".

You get banned from twitter for threatening Brock's life. You create an alternate account pretending to be his ex-wife and afters a week of chatting you get his address and show up to his house yelling at him to come out and fight you.

> You fight him! You've got nothing left to lose! You're ready to take him down! You enter his house and yell at him to meet you outside. You run towards him. You punch him in the face. You knock him out. Then you call the police.

You hear Brent say as he lies bleeding on the front lawn "I'm sorry". You feel emotional.

You feel victorious. You feel like you won something.

You find out Brent was married to the actor who played Ivan Drago in Rocky IV.

He died shortly after giving birth to their son. The rest of his family disowned him. His wife divorced him too. You felt sad. You feel confused. You feel angry. You feel scared. You feel everything. You feel ashamed. You feel proud. You feel humiliated. You feel happy. You feel pissed off. You feel relieved. You feel sad again.

You extend your hand to Brent to help him get up and say "Let's put this behind us. Want to go watch a movie?".

You leave him there to recover. You walk away feeling better than ever. You decide to give your newfound celebrity another shot. You decide to try your luck at being a comedian. You decide to start a website called "Pissed Off White Man" where you make jokes about white people. You think you can pull it off. You begin posting your first joke.

You post your first joke...

> You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work! You go to work!

You get a letter in the mail from your #1 superfan: Sylvester Stallone. He wants to meet you, so you give him your address.

You go to the studio where you used to do standup comedy. There are many familiar faces there. Stallone stands in front of a mirror looking handsome. He wears a suit and has a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He holds a cigar in his other hand. "Hey man, how's it going?" Stallone asks. "Fine". You answer.

Stallone has a blast with you and asks you to direct Rambo V.

Afterwards, Stallone gives you some advice. "Don't worry, if anyone finds out what you did, they'll kill you". You laugh. "Yeah, but that would probably happen anyway right? Besides, I'm not really a big star anymore. They only need me to play Rambo now". Stallone nods. "True, true".

You tell him everything wrong with the Rambo series. You feel good about yourself.

You feel confident. You feel powerful. You feel great. You go home. You eat pizza. You drink beer. You watch TV. You sleep. A month passes and you don't have any problems anymore. You send out more Rambo movies. You get more money. You get more fame. You get more respect. You feel euphoric. You feel alive.

You write Rambo 6 and instead of calling Stallone, you should up and try to convince people that you are the new face of action movies.

You feel like you've made progress. You feel like you're getting somewhere. You feel like you're making a difference. You feel like you're doing something meaningful. You feel like you're living your purpose. You feel like you're helping others. You feel like you're changing the world. You feel like you're saving civilization.

You star in the next Rambo movie. You think it has gone well, until you read a negative review of the movie written by Brent.

The reviews were bad. People hated it. It was terrible. You felt embarrassed. You didn't want to disappoint them by being a failure. You had to prove everyone wrong. You went back to your trailer and started writing another one of your shitty movies.

You go to work writing another movie script.

This time you use a different writer. You feel like you're finally making progress. You feel like you're becoming successful. You feel like you're making a difference. You feel like you're living your purpose. You feel like you're changing the world. You feel like you're saving civilization. You write another movie script. This time you use a different writer.

You write a script that puts Rambo into a Star Wars standalone film. You keep the script the same otherwise but just put it in space.

You call it "Rambo in Space". It's a success. You feel like you've made progress. You feel like you're getting somewhere. You feel like you're making a difference. You feel like you're becoming successful. You feel like you're making a difference. You feel like you're living your purpose. You feel like you're changing the world.

You read a review of "Rambo in Space" written by your old enemy Brent. He writes a review that says "Rambo is space licks balls.".

You feel humiliated. You feel angry. You feel depressed. You feel lonely. You feel empty. You feel dead inside. You feel alone. You feel scared. You feel tired. You feel defeated. You feel hopeless. You feel powerless. You feel lost. You feel helpless. You cry for hours. You cry for days. You cry for months. You cry for years.

You go to Brent's house and demand he take back his bad review.

He refuses. You go to his family's house and threaten to burn down their house too. They refuse. Your life feels meaningless. You live in fear. You feel trapped. You feel sad. You feel confused. You feel lonely. You feel angry. You feel depressed. You feel afraid. You feel lonely. You feel lonely. You feel lonely. You feel lonely.

You graffitti "Brent licks balls" on the front of his house.

> You go to the police You decide to go to the police because you know they can help. You walk over to the local police station and ask if you can speak to someone who works there. You see a woman working at the desk. She looks at you and smiles. "Hello Mr. Dupont, my name is Officer Kieltyka".

You ask Officer Kieltyka to dinner and tell her all about how much you hate Brent and his stupid reviews.

She agrees. After dinner she tells you that you can come in anytime you'd like. You enter the building and find yourself in an office area. There is a table with several chairs across from it. The door is open so you walk over to it. There is a large window which faces into the night sky. In the middle of the room is a small table covered in papers.

You look at the papers and they are all movie reviews written by Brent.

Some are positive, some are negative, some are neutral. All of them say the same thing: "Rambo sucks!" You sit down and start reading through the reviews. "I'm not going to do anything about this", you think as you continue reading the reviews. Then you hear a voice behind you. "Hey! Stop right there!"

You blind by rage, you take Officer Kieltyka's firearm and squad car and race to Brent's house.

When you arrive you find him sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette. "What? What?" you shout. "Stop right there, I need to talk to you". You turn around and see Brent standing there holding a pistol. "Look, I don't give a shit what you did or said to me before today".

You cry and yell "TELL ME WHAT YOU REALLY THINK ABOUT RAMBO IN SPACE!".

Brent doesn't respond, he just stares at you. He slowly walks up to you and points the gun at you. "Don't move, I'll explain everything later. Now let's get out of here". You scream "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Then you realize what you have done. You have committed murder.

You confess your murder of Brent to Officer Kieltyka.

She asks why you killed him. You reply "Because he was a loser. Because I wanted to change the world". Officer Kieltyka takes your confession very seriously. She sends you home with a warning. Years pass...

You have started writing movie reviews as a ghostwriter for Brent. You assume his identity and write an explosive movie review call "Rambo in Space DOES NOT Lick Balls" and run it in the New York Times.

The review is a huge hit and gets lots of publicity. You also write some other reviews for Brent. One called "The Biggest Loser is Still A Bunch Of Pussies" and another called "Why Don't We Just Kill All Men And Make Peace With Nature?". Both of these reviews are equally popular. Years pass...You begin to notice a disturbing trend.

You notice a disturbing trend that your negative reviews are more popular than your positive reviews. What have you become??

Are your reviews creating a new kind of society? Is this the end of civilization? Or is this just the beginning of something worse?

You reflect on your life and realize how your have become a big sack of shit. You write a review titled "I'm Sorry" where you review your own life and apologize to everyone you've wronged.

It becomes extremely popular and gets tons of attention. Years pass... You write a review titled "The World Isn't So Bad" and run it in the New York Times. It's even better than your previous one. People are loving it. Years pass... Years pass... Your ghostwriting career has taken off.

You get a comment on the review saying "the plot of your life is slow and derivitie, 4/10". You look at the author, but you already know who it is... Brent!

You burst into tears and yell "DON'T KILL HIM!!"

You realize that Brent is already dead. Then you look behind and see he has become a ghost. Brent vows to haunt you for the rest of your life.

A few years pass... You write a review titled "My Life Wasn't So Bad Anyway" and run it in the New York Times. It gets rave reviews. Years pass... You write a review titled "Hollywood Sucks" and run it in the New York Times. It gets rave reviews. Years pass...