I love summertime, if for no other reason than the blockbuster movies that hit the screens this time of year. I used to love going to the summer flicks, with the thermostats jammed at 50 and the soda fountain spewing forth cold beverages, there was no greater escape from the blazing heat for me. Then either I got too old, or Hollywood did. Either way, I just don't go to the movies anymore. Which is fine, because in my head, there are movies going on all the time. Everywhere I look, my over-imaginative mind creates short movies instantaneously, from the casting to the plot (which is usually pretty thin) to the shootout ending, I can wrap one up in seconds.

Maybe it's a couple I see breaking up in a coffee shop (high drama starring Reese Witherspoon and Bruce Willis) or an old drunk being thrown out of the Dilly Dally (more high drama with Mickey Rourke and Mickey Rourke – playing himself as the drunk and the “real” man underneath), or the fat lady who gives me attitude at the bank (a comedy starring Roseanne Barr as The Talking Manatee Who Won't Wait in Lines). In any case, they don't usually end like typical Hollywood creations, since I need to get going on my day. There's usually some violent, apocalyptic ballet that wipes out everyone.

My latest brain movie – created one night while I stared at the full moon for an hour or so – is an action flick starring Keanu Reeves as himself and Jennifer Aniston (she's in all of my movies):

A mammoth spaceship that is ten times the size of the moon shows up one night and parks itself next to our lunar friend. The ship looks like a huge metallic pelican (think Ed Wood, with visible wires and all). It's a strange beast the entire world can see, and it makes every top news story around the globe, as earth tries to decide what to do. Then one night, as sort of a warning, it opens up its giant beak and eats the moon whole. Earth freaks.

International votes are held to choose the very best diplomats on the planet to go on a mission to reason with the pelican. The finest negotiators from all over the world are chosen; in America we choose Henry Kissinger, only he's dead, so we go down the list of the write-in candidates and it turns out that America thinks Keanu Reeves is the right man for the job. A groan is heard 'round the world when this information is released.

Reeves is griping the whole time he's being shoved into a spacesuit, saying he's just an actor, and he doesn't know the first thing about negotiating with extraterrestrial planet-eaters. Ground control tells him to “shaddup” and get in the ship. The team of diplomats nervously board the shuttle that will take them to the ship docked out where the moon used to be. The diplomats from the Asian countries, where Reeves is huge, ask for his autograph. But by this time, Keanu is hyperventilating and having trouble signing all of the 8x10 glossys he brought for the trip.

The spaceship is outfitted with a nuclear payload, unbeknownst to the diplomats on board – it's the last resort for the leaders of the world – in case the pelican isn't interested in debate, or in case whomever ate the moon has only seen Keanu Reeves in Little Buddha, and nothing of the Matrix series. The ship also has hundreds of cameras on board, so the world can watch the event, which is sold on pay-per-view for $24.99.

As the saviors of earth hurtle along toward the enormous planet-eating ship, the U.S. envoy, Keanu Reeves goes berserk. He yammers on and on about how unsafe space travel is, screaming about gamma rays and space diseases, forcing the other diplomats to restrain him. A zero gravity fistfight breaks out, with Reeves throwing haymakers while Jennifer Aniston and I watch from the comforts of a sports bar, which is broadcasting the pay-per-view all week long. Cheers break out in the bar as Reeves kicks the Norwegian ambassador in the groin. Aniston and I stir our bloody marys with celery sticks and discuss my wife, who will catch up with us later (Aniston and I are just friends honey, I swear).

Reeves breaks away from his restrainers, and trying to get out of the ship, pops the hatch, killing all of the best negotiators in the world instantly. The pilot of the shuttle slumps over the controls, punching the booster rockets, and changing the ship's course to the sun. Viewers around the globe are stunned, and those who wrote in Keanu Reeves as a delegate to represent America are immediately banished to Wyoming by order of the President, played by Hillary Clinton.
Meanwhile, the ship that is 10 times the size of the moon laughs, and begins motoring toward earth. Scientists determine the speed and trajectory of the planet-eater and explain that we have about 12 hours until earth becomes a gumball.

Then my son cries out, so I must go inside and tend to him, so the ship opens its massive beak and leaps into hyperspace, devouring earth and popping it like a grape. Jennifer Aniston and I embrace in the sports bar and I say, “God, I hate Keanu Reeves.” Fade to black.