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What if, at the premiere of the last Twilight movie, the whole cast is ecstatic, eyes wide with celebration, because they never have to make another shitty, incomprehensible mess of a young adult snooze-fest ever again, and Kristen Stewart is already dreaming of the important indie movies she’s going to make where she plays a graffiti artist in the 80s or a stripper junkie in the 70s or a meth addled prostitute in the mid 90s (imagine the hair!) or something like that, and just as they are about to step onto the red carpet and half smile petulantly for screaming twelve year olds for the last time, Stephanie Meyer leaps forward and shows them what she’s been working on for the last year: the manuscript for a new, five part sequel series to Twilight, which has ALREADY been bought by Lionsgate to be made into films for the next five years.
How quickly would it take the entire cast to kill themselves, do you think? Immediately, or later that night, when reality really sets in?