Two nights ago, Mark Wahlberg and I crash-landed together on a planet inhabited by talking apes that ride horses and humans who dress like fashion ended with the Flintstones. He didn't seem to enjoy it as much as I did -- in fact, he wanted to get the hell out of there -- but I wanted to stick around and see what the apes were going to do next. They were very interesting, much more interesting than the humans, one of whom was Kris Kristofferson. He hardly spoke a word, which was too bad... I was thinking he might have written some good songs about living on a planet like this, but alas he kept to himself and they bumped him off pretty early.
Okay, so after we crash-landed, we were captured by the apes and put in pens and sold off to other apes as slave labor. Specifically, we were purchased by Helena Bonham Carter, which was okay with me, but Mark didn't care for it, so he escaped and the rest of us followed him.
We ran through the jungle and across the desert, with the apes (led by the evil Tim Roth) in hot pursuit, eventually making our stand. More and more humans joined us, and the apes gathered on the hilltops so they could look ominous and then charge down at us... I won't give away the whole thing, of course, but it was a nice bit of mindless fun.