The Karate Kid Review

Will opened his eyes. Light streamed into the room from the venetian blinds that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over L.A. His wife, Jada, lie next to him, small and muscular like an African-American Chihuahua, or that weird muscle-baby he’d seen on TLC last week, or was it the week before, whatever. Her relative freakishness didn’t phase him though. Ever since seeing her star alongside Billy Zane in Tales from the Crypt presents Demon Knight, he knew he had to make her his beard. It’s a classic story, really: boy meets boy, boy can’t deal, boy meets girl who looks like boy, boy becomes multi-millionaire international superstar of films such as Independence Day, Men in Blacks 1 and 2, and, nap time favorite, Seven Pounds. He loved his wife like he loved Aunt Viv: just enough to make it believable.

Will reached over, grabbed the remote control to his 72 inch Sony television, and, as he clicked it on, admired the job Jose had done on the TV’s Hancock-themed after-market customization using only a little bit of papier-mâché and a whole lot of that immigrant go-get-‘em spirit. The television hummed to life. Will turned the volume down as to not wake his wife or disturb Jaden’s weekly Kung Fu and Cupcake Conference taking place in the living room.

The albino African elephant that wandered the grounds of the estate hated Bad Boys 2, but Will had made a pledge to his nana that he would watch BB2 every single day for the rest of his life in her honor right before she shrugged and died. He could tell that that was an important moment in his life, so Will pretended that he had feelings like regular people and he wasn’t an emotionless sociopath like American Psycho’s “Patrick Bateman,” which he was (well, more like Mila Kunis from the sequel, but whatevs). Honoring his promise to nana, Will popped in the Michael Bay classic and set about his morning routine.

Will Smith’s morning routine consists of push-ups, sit-ups, and a three hour long “play sesh” with his action figures. And I mean HIS action figures. Be it Captain Steven Hiller from Independence Day or Captain James West from Wild Wild West, he’s all there, a god unto himself, Big Willie Style.

On that day, something was amiss. One of him was missing! Will poured the box out on his bedroom floor in a panic. Bagger Vance was accounted for, as was Del Spooner - I, Robot’s charming lead. It came to him in a flash. Agent Jay. Gone. Will rose from his play corner in a rage. “Where is me!” he bellowed. “Give me back my me!”

Jada awoke with a start. “Honey,” she said, “calm down. Everything is going to be alright! We’ll find you.” Will growled at her “ME!” as he came at her wielding his Hancock like a weapon. Jada screamed, “No! Will, stop!” but before she could say “Welcome to Erf!” he had plunged the action figure deep into her eye socket, killing her instantly. Will stood over Jada for a moment and squeezed out a tear thinking about the third act of his hit rom-com Hitch before bending down and removing Hancock from her head.

Jaden was next, the little shit. Daddy was God and Jaden was Jesus and now it was time to crucify somebody. You see, Jaden had started thinking himself some kind of fancypants movie star, and there just wasn’t enough room in the multi-winged marble mansion for the two of them. Plus, it was probably Jesus/Jaden who misplaced Agent Jay.

Covered in the blood of his youngest son’s mother, Will Smith slowly walked to the expansive living room to confront Jaden. Jaden was covered head to toe in frosting. The Kung Fu and Cupcake Conference had gotten out of hand. Will moved toward his son with the smooth movements of a jungle cat. Jaden, having seen the blood and assuming the worst, had already crouched into the Viper Claw stance, prepared for the oncoming attack. A dove from some other actor’s movie flew across their path in slow motion.

The battle had begun…


Editor's note: Brandon has yet to see the new Karate Kid remake. He's sure it's nice.