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Ben Affleck Must Be
Bludgeoned Like a Piñata
by Alice Teeple


I hate Ben Affleck movies. Man, do I ever.  And do you know why I hate Ben Affleck movies?
Because they star Ben Affleck.

I hate that smarmy grin.  I hate those frat-boy looks.  I hate that frat-boy attitude. Why the hell is this guy all over the place, grinning like a jack-o-lantern?  Why is he a big-deal teen heartthrob?

My dislike for Ben Affleck goes way back, back to my grammar school days, when our teacher made us watch Voyage of the Mimi: a PBS show about a crotchety sailor, a boat, and these kids looking for whales or something. One of those kids was a young, spritely Ben Affleck. I did not like him then, even though I did not know then that he would become the entity of acting banality that he is today.

Then, Oscar in hand from riding on everybody's coattails, Ben Affleck's already-large head swelled to the size of Greenland.  Ben Affleck got in even bigger movies, like Shakespeare In Love and Armageddon.

You could barely find a magazine cover that didn't have his simian mugshot gracing it, or reporting about his romance with the ever-skeletal Gwyneth Paltrow.  But when I saw that this summer's stupid Disney (I also hate Disney) blockbuster, Pearl Harbor, starred my favourite moron, I got angry.  Good and angry.  I got good and angry around the same time that I was thinking of games to be played at my friend's upcoming party.

I discussed Ben Affleck being in Pearl Harbor with my friend Sean.  Sean harbours an equal dislike for Ben Affleck. We  thought about getting our unicycle gangs together and starting a violent rumble with Ben Affleck.

"I want to punch his smug face...with my fist!"  said Sean.

"I want to pull his hair and poke him until he cries!" I replied.

Sean said a good game that we could play at our party would be the  "Give Ben Affleck a Severe Beating" Game.
"He's only famous because he got a jumpstart from Kevin Smith," Sean remarked.

"We could cover Ben Affleck up in papîer mache and beat him with sticks!" I suggested.

"Then you'd have an excuse, because then you'd think he was a piñata," replied Sean.

"Right, and then when he doesn't break and give us some candy, then we could beat him some more!" I added.

"But instead of busting him open and spilling out cheap bulk candy, you'd get the sweet, warm entrails of Ben Affleck. Which you can wear on your head."

I wonder if Ben Affleck is available to rent for bridal showers.

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