Dear Hollywood, I’ve accepted many things from you over my long relationship with you. It’s called suspension of disbelief.

I’ve accepted vampires, werewolves, little girls possessed by demons, invisible witches, and haunted hotels. I’ve opened my mind to spaceships, laser swords, shape-shifting aliens, talking dogs, talking monkeys, cloned dinosaurs and time traveling dopes that enthusiastically play air guitar.

I even wholeheartedly bought Andrew Dice Clay in BLUE JASMINE.

Where I draw the line is when anyone — ANYONE — can have a three-way with Sharon Stone and Sofía Vergara with as much interest as I have when I clean hair from the tub drain. I understand John Turturo is in love with another woman while he’s doing it, but Jesus Christ and all the Saints, it’s Sofía Vergara! from behind! with Sharon Stone! In lingerie! Lacy black lingerie!

Between this, ABRAHAM LINCOLN: VAMPIRE HUNTER Lincoln, and THE HAPPENING, you have officially failed me.

Sincerely, Kody

PS: please bring Buffy back.