Category: Stories

The Watcher

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

At first, Tony thought it was a coincidence.

A small black drone hovering at the edge of his vision—on street corners, at train stations, at the far end of the supermarket car park. Always just far enough away to make him second-guess himself.

He pointed it out to his friends once. “That drone—look.”

Chris glanced up, squinting at the skyline. “What drone?”

It is right there. “You seriously don’t see that?”

Chris shrugged. “You okay, man?”

Tony tried to laugh it off. But that evening, the drone was waiting outside his window.

The next day, he tested it.

He took random turns through the city—weaved through back alleys, doubled back through crowds. At one point, he hid in a cinema for three hours, slipping out through the fire exit.

But when he emerged, it was there. Just above the streetlamp. Unmoving. Watching.

“What do you want?” he exclaimed.

The drone did nothing.

He tried reporting it. The police officer barely listened. “If it’s a private drone, we can’t really do much unless it’s harassing you.”

“It is harassing me,” Tony snapped. “It follows me everywhere.”

“Have you spoken to the owner?”

“There is no owner.”

The officer was not convinced. “Sir, maybe you should—”

Tony never heard the end of that sentence, because outside the station window, hovering just beyond the glass, was the drone.

He turned back to the officer.

“Tell me you see it.”

The policeman followed his gaze. Paused.

And then: “See what?”

Tony stopped talking about it after that.

He kept his head down. He ignored the sight of it, ignored the whirring sound it made when he turned a corner, ignored the cold certainty that it would never leave him.

Until one day, while absent-mindedly scrolling through old childhood photos on his phone, he noticed something.

A picture from his 8th birthday.

A group shot with friends.

In the background, just above the rooftops.

A small black dot in the sky. He zoomed in and realised…

The drone had always been watching him.

The Interview From Hell

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

Jake had been unemployed for six months when he got the call.

“Mr Holloway, we were very impressed with your application for the Strategic Synergy Facilitator position. Can you come in for an interview tomorrow?”

He hadn’t applied for anything with a title that ridiculous, but he wasn’t in a position to be picky.

He arrived, bright and early the next morning at the office, a glass-and-steel monstrosity in the heart of the city.

The receptionist greeted him with an unsettling smile. “Mr Holloway, the executives are expecting you. Please, follow me.”

Executives? For an entry-level job?

She led him to a windowless boardroom, where five men in identical grey suits sat behind a wide mahogany table. A single chair sat by itself facing them.

Jake sat. The chair was too low. The men loomed.

“Mr Holloway,” the one in the centre said, steepling his fingers. “Do you know what we do here at Pandemonia Associates?”

Jake had checked their website the night before, and it had been aggressively vague—phrases like “leveraging global potential” and “pioneering integrated paradigms”.

“I… uh… believe you’re in consulting?” he guessed.

“Yes,” the man nodded. “But also… so much more.”

The lights dimmed.

A trapdoor opened in the floor in front of Jake, revealing a pit of screaming fire.

He felt the heat in his face.

“…Is this part of the interview?”

The executive ignored him. “At Pandemonia, we believe in nurturing talent. Developing leadership. Feeding the ancient one who sleeps beneath the city.”

“Sorry—what?”

“Tell me, Jake,” the man continued, voice calm. “Do you consider yourself a team player?”

“Uh—sure?”

“Would you be willing to make personal sacrifices for the good of the company?”

The flames in the pit flickered expectantly.

Jake squirmed awkwardly in his chair. “Look, I think there’s been a mistake. I thought this was for a—what was it?—a ‘Strategic Synergy Facilitator’ position?”

The executives nodded.

“Yes. Facilitating synergy between your blood and the great devourer. Strategically.”

Jake stood up, hands raised. “I appreciate the opportunity and everything, but I don’t think I’m the right fit for—”

One of the executives slid a contract across the table. The letters on the page seemed to writhe.

“Sign here,” the man said. “In ink. Or blood. Either works.”

Jake sighed.

“…Does the position come with benefits?”

“404k, dental, and immortality.”

He picked up a pen.

“Well,” he muttered, “I suppose I’ve had worse jobs.”

Confession

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

Father Bradley sat alone in the booth. He had not intended to stay this late, but he could not yet bring himself to leave. He breathed out, slow and steady. Then, almost without thinking, he reached for the sliding panel and pulled it open.

Darkness. The other side of the confessional was empty.

He hesitated, staring at the vacant space. The kneeler on the other side was untouched, the candlelight barely grazing the edge of shadows.

And yet—

He felt something there.

Before he could stop himself, he spoke.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

His voice did not sound like his own.

He sat perfectly still. The weight of his own words lingered, waiting for something—an answer, a response.

There was none.

And yet he continued.

“It has been… too long since my last confession.”

A pause. A breath.

“I have killed a man.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. He didn’t know where they had come from, only that they were true.

“I killed him with my silence.”

A creak of old wood. The shadows beyond the screen seemed deeper now, stretching towards him. He could not look away.

“I killed him by pretending not to see.”

The candlelight flickered. The words did not stop—they pulled themselves from his throat like thread unravelling.

“I let him drown beneath my sins because it was easier than saving him. Because if I had reached for him, I might have been dragged under too.”

His breath came too quick now. A tightness curled in his ribs, a pressure in his chest.

“I killed him,” he whispered.

The hush of the confessional swallowed his words. There was nothing but the echo of his own breath, the weight of his life pressing back against him.

Silence.

Finally Getting Your Life Together

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

So, you’ve decided it’s time to finally get your life together. Congratulations! This is a bold and admirable step—one that will last approximately three days before you give up and return to your normal, dysfunctional existence. But let’s pretend, for now, that you’re actually going to follow through.

Here’s a foolproof step-by-step guide to transforming yourself into a productive, responsible, well-adjusted adult. Or, at the very least, someone who appears to have their life together.

Step 1: Cry in the Shower

This is crucial. You cannot skip this step. The shower is the perfect place for a life-altering breakdown. The acoustics make your sobs more dramatic, the water hides your tears, and you can stare blankly at the tiles like you’re in a sad indie film.

While you’re there, reflect on the mess you’ve made of your life. Think about all the unread emails, the unfulfilled potential, and the expired yoghurt in your fridge. Let the weight of it all crash down on you.

Good. Now you’re ready for step two.

Step 2: Make an Overly Ambitious To-Do List

Grab a notebook (or, let’s be honest, your phone) and write down every single thing you need to do. This will include:

• Fixing your sleep schedule.

• Organising your entire home.

• Reading 47 books you’ve been meaning to get to.

• Learning a new language.

• Going to the gym every day.

• Finally responding to that email from three months ago.

Perfect. You’ve now created an impossible standard that will soon lead to crushing disappointment. But at least you feel productive for now.

Step 3: Buy Fancy Productivity Supplies Instead of Actually Doing Anything

Now that you have a plan, it’s time to avoid doing any of it by convincing yourself that you need the perfect tools first.

• Buy a brand-new laptop that you will use exactly twice.

• Get a stack of motivational self-help books that will sit untouched on your shelf.

• Invest in a high-quality pen, because obviously, you can’t change your life with a regular one.

Spending money on things that symbolise productivity is almost the same as being productive. Almost.

Step 4: Completely Redesign Your Morning Routine (That You’ll Never Follow)

All the successful people wake up at 5 a.m., right? Time to become one of them.

Your new morning routine will include:

• Waking up before the sun.

• Meditating for 20 minutes.

• Drinking a litre of lemon water.

• Journaling about your intentions for the day.

• Cooking a wholesome, protein-packed breakfast.

• Doing yoga or an intense workout.

• Reading something intellectually stimulating.

You’ll do this once. Then you’ll go back to waking up 10 minutes before you have to leave the house and eating half a granola bar in the car.

Step 5: Attempt to Declutter, Get Emotionally Attached to a Broken Charger

Time to clean your space! You’ll start with enthusiasm, throwing things into a donation pile like you’re starring in your own Netflix tidying show.

Then, it happens. You find an old top that you haven’t worn in years, but what if you need it someday? You pick up a half-dead phone charger and feel a strange sense of nostalgia. You discover a box of miscellaneous cables, and even though you don’t know what any of them belong to, you might need them in the future.

By the end of the day, your home looks exactly the same, but now there are just piles of things in different places.

Step 6: Start a New Hobby, Give Up Immediately

Nothing says “getting your life together” like picking up a new hobby. YouTube has convinced you that you could be a painter, a knitter, a pianist, a marathon runner, and a gourmet chef if you just put your mind to it.

You buy all the supplies. You watch one tutorial. You attempt it for 10 minutes, realise it’s hard, and immediately give up.

That’s okay. Just store the supplies in a cupboard somewhere, where they will sit untouched forever.

Step 7: Have a Mid-Afternoon Existential Crisis

At some point, you’ll realise that despite all your efforts, you are still you. The same flawed, procrastinating, overthinking mess you’ve always been. The weight of this realisation will hit you hard.

You will lie down for a while. Possibly on the floor. Possibly in a blanket cocoon.

Step 8: Decide That “Balance” Is More Important Than Productivity

After failing to become a superhuman productivity machine, you’ll eventually conclude that maybe—just maybe—you don’t have to be perfect. You’ll tell yourself that life is about balance.

You’ll abandon your 5 a.m. routine and decide that waking up at 7 is fine. You’ll accept that you’ll never read all the books on your list, and that’s okay. You’ll realise that maybe it’s better to make realistic goals instead of aiming for perfection.

You’ll realise that personal fulfilment is actually nothing to do with perceived achievements but everything to do with appreciating the world around you.

This will feel like a profound and life-changing breakthrough.

Step 9: Forget Everything and Return to Your Old Ways

One week later, you’re back to doomscrolling until 2 a.m., living in mild chaos, and convincing yourself that next week is when you’ll really get your life together.

And the cycle continues.

Congratulations! You’ve successfully followed every step of this guide. Now, go take another shower. You’ve earned it.

The Ghost Who Wouldn’t Leave a Bad Review

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

Kevin knew the Airbnb was haunted the second he walked in.

It wasn’t the creaky floors or the flickering lights. It wasn’t even the way the temperature dropped ten degrees every time he passed the bathroom. It was the muttering.

Low, whispering complaints from the walls, like a disappointed pensioner in a supermarket queue.

At first, he thought it was his imagination. Then, on his first night, as he settled into bed, a voice groaned from the corner of the room:

“Ugh. This place used to be so much nicer.”

Kevin sat up, in a panic. “What?”

The voice sighed. “Back when Mrs Holloway owned it. Before they put in those godawful spotlights. I mean, honestly. Who renovates a Victorian home with IKEA lighting?”

Kevin turned on the bedside lamp. The room was empty.

“Are you… a… a… ghost?” he barely managed to ask.

“Obviously. Who else would be complaining at this hour?”

Kevin blinked. “You’re… upset about the lighting?”

“And the décor,” the ghost grumbled. “They painted over the original wallpaper, you know. Floral print. Absolutely stunning. Now? Just blank white walls. No personality. No history. No soul.”

Kevin pulled the covers up. “You don’t, like… want to kill me or anything, do you?”

“What? No, no, I’m not that kind of ghost. I just want people to know this place has gone downhill.”

Kevin was much relieved. “Oh. Well, I mean, I guess you could leave a bad review?”

There was a long pause. “I couldn’t do that.”

“…Why not?”

“Because Jeremy is lovely.”

“Jeremy?”

“The host. Sweet man. Bakes his own bread. Uses real butter, not that margarine rubbish. You can’t just destroy someone’s livelihood over a few bad design choices.”

Kevin stared at the ceiling. “So you’re just going to… haunt this place forever and complain about it?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Have you talked to Jeremy?”

“Oh, sure. I ruffled some curtains. Moved a mug. He thought it was a draft.”

Kevin sighed. “Look, I’ll mention it in my review if you want. I’ll just say, like, ‘Great stay, friendly host, but the ghost thinks the house has lost its charm.’”

“Hmm. Maybe also note that the pillows are a bit too firm?”

“Sure.”

“And that the wi-fi cuts out at night?”

“Okay.”

“And that it wouldn’t kill them to put one antique back in here? Just one. For the aesthetic.”

“Fine.”

“You’re a good man, Kevin.”

“Thanks, Ghost.”

He heard a satisfied sigh. Then silence.

The next morning, Kevin left a five-star review.

Jeremy replied, thanking him for the feedback and promising to look into the wi-fi issue. He didn’t mention the ghost.

But when Kevin checked the listing a month later, he noticed the place had been updated.

A single antique chair in the corner.

Kevin smiled. Somewhere, a ghost was finally at peace.

Your Life in Customer Reviews

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

By the time I realised I was dead, I was already in line.

The queue stretched a long way, a slow-moving procession of the newly departed. There was no pain, no fear—just a strange sense of acceptance, like I was waiting for a coffee I hadn’t ordered but was happy to drink anyway.

Ahead, a glowing kiosk hummed gently, with a ring light flickering above it. A digital voice chimed:

“Thank you for living! Please rate your experience.”

The person in front of me, a hunched old man in a tweed jacket, tapped the screen hesitantly. His expression shifted from curiosity to horror. He muttered something under his breath, then shuffled off into the mist.

The screen blinked invitingly. It was my turn.

Welcome to the Afterlife Feedback Portal!

Life of: Daniel Everett

Status: Concluded

Time Spent Alive: 38 years, 4 months, 12 days

Total Rating: 2.9 / 5 stars

Two point nine? That was dangerously close to “would not recommend.”

A glowing progress bar appeared. Review Breakdown Loading…

Then it showed my results.

Relationships – 2.5 stars

• “Started strong but lost momentum. Needed better communication skills.” ★★☆☆☆

• “Girlfriend of three years? More like unpaid therapist of three years.” ★★★☆☆

I winced. That was… uncomfortably fair.

Career – 3.0 stars

• “Showed up to work on time. Mostly.” ★★★☆☆

• “Colleagues liked him. Boss tolerated him. Printer hated him.” ★★★☆☆

That last one stung more than I expected.

Personal Growth – 1.7 stars

• “Kept saying he’d learn a language. Never did.” ★☆☆☆☆

• “Joined a gym. Went twice.” ★★☆☆☆

• “Had an epiphany about life’s meaning once. Forgot it immediately.” ★★☆☆☆

The screen flickered. A new section appeared.

Regrets – Most Common Mentions:

• “Too scared to take risks.”

• “Spent more time looking at screens than faces.”

“Would you like to leave a response?” the kiosk asked.

I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the screen. What was there to say? That I tried? That I thought I had more time? That I wish I’d paid more attention, held on to people tighter, been braver, been better?

The screen pulsed.

“All feedback is final. Thank you for existing.”

A door opened beside the kiosk, and I stepped through.

Disciples of Grit

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

It started as a joke. One night, after too many beers and an ill-advised deep dive into self-help YouTube, I posted a tweet:

“Success is a mindset. Stop making excuses. Wake up at 4 a.m. and start winning at life.”

I thought nothing of it. I went to bed, dreaming of a long, lazy Sunday.

The next morning, I woke up to 130,000 retweets.

By lunchtime, my inbox was flooded with messages. “Thank you, Master.” “Your words changed my life.” “I have cast aside weakness and now exist only to WIN.”

I checked my profile. My follower count had exploded overnight. I had somehow become an influencer. Worse—people were treating me like a guru.

I decided to lean into it a bit. I tweeted:

“The weak want comfort. The strong seek discipline. CHOOSE WISELY.”

It got 500,000 likes. Someone turned it into an inspirational Instagram post with my face superimposed over a stock image of a mountain.

By the end of the week, my followers had a name: The Disciples of Grit.

A month in, I had a website, a Patreon, and an army of devoted followers who were doing everything I said. I told them to quit caffeine—they did. I told them to sleep in the woods for mental toughness—several nearly froze to death. One guy even tattooed WAKE UP AND WIN across his forehead.

At some point, I should have stopped. Instead, I started selling online courses.

$499.99 – The Masterclass on Grit.

• Week 1: Destroying Weakness (Starting With Your Sleep Schedule).

• Week 2: Eliminating Friends Who Don’t Support Your Hustle.

• Week 3: Why Emotions Are for Losers.

The money poured in. Brands reached out for sponsorships. My face was plastered on t-shirts with slogans like PAIN IS A CHOICE and CRUSH YOUR ENEMIES.

Then things got weird.

One of my followers emailed me: “Master, when do we march?”

I blinked at the screen. March?

I scrolled through my Discord server. My followers had been… organising. Stockpiling supplies. Talking about “overthrowing the weak.”

I logged onto X. The hashtag #GritRevolution was trending.

I slammed my laptop shut.

I had accidentally started a cult.

I tried to shut it down. I posted, “Hey guys, maybe let’s not form a militant movement? Also, please don’t call me ‘Master’.”

The comments were instant:

• “A test! The Master is testing our loyalty!”

• “Yes, we must remain humble. Let us crush the weak in silence.”

• “Master, we have already begun.”

I turned on the news. There had been rallies. People in homemade WAKE UP AND WIN uniforms were chanting my slogans in the streets.

Panicked, I booked a flight to Mexico. I shaved my head. I deleted all my social media.

It wasn’t enough.

This morning, someone knocked on my door. A man wearing sunglasses and a Disciples of Grit hoodie stood there, grinning.

“Master,” he said. “The grit is in motion. We have passed your test.”

Congratulations! You’re the Chosen One

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

Dave Saunders had spent his Tuesday afternoon the same way he spent most Tuesday afternoons: avoiding work, scrolling on his phone, and wondering how early was too early to microwave a pasty.

Then, the ceiling cracked open.

A booming voice echoed across the office, rattling coffee mugs and making Sandra from HR spill her tea. “DAVID SAUNDERS,” it bellowed, “YOU ARE THE CHOSEN ONE.”

Dave sighed.

“Right,” he muttered. “And what exactly am I chosen for?”

A golden portal materialised in front of his desk, swirling with celestial energy and an unreasonable amount of dramatic lighting. A robed wizard stepped through, staff in hand, eyes glowing with divine knowledge.

“Oh, brilliant,” Dave said. “Another one.”

The office workers stared. The IT guy took out his phone to record. Sandra was still mopping up her tea.

The wizard looked momentarily flustered, then recovered. “The prophecy has foretold your coming! The Dark Lord is rising! You alone can save the world!”

Dave swivelled slightly in his chair. “Yeah, see, I’m really busy today, so…”

The wizard blinked at the empty desktop surface and the Microsoft Outlook tab open to a blank email draft.

“But—but you’re the one!” the wizard stammered. “Born under the Blood Moon! Marked by fate! A warrior destined to wield the Sacred Blade and bring balance to the realm!”

Dave took a sip of his lukewarm instant coffee. “Alright, couple of things. One, I was born in Stoke-on-Trent under some very ordinary streetlights. Two, I don’t ‘wield’ anything. The last time I tried axe-throwing at a stag do, I nearly took out the instructor.”

“But the prophecy—”

“The prophecy can get in line,” Dave said, pointing at his inbox full of ignored emails. “Look, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t really have time for all that ‘hero’s journey’ nonsense. I’ve got a report due by Friday and a dentist appointment I’ve already rescheduled three times.”

The wizard hesitated. “But… the fate of the world—”

The wizard stared. The entire office stared. Even the IT guy was staring, instead of looking at his phone.

“But… this is not how these things should work,” the wizard finally said.

“Well, maybe you lot shouldn’t keep having Dark Lords popping up all the time,” Dave pointed out.

The wizard’s eyebrow twitched. His dramatic celestial glow flickered slightly.

“Besides,” Dave continued, taking another sip of his coffee, “even if I agreed to this, what’s the deal? Do I get paid? Dental? A company horse?”

“You would be rewarded with eternal glory,” the wizard said weakly.

“Uh-huh. And how’s the annual leave policy?”

“…There isn’t one.”

“Right. Yeah, no, I think I’ll pass.”

The wizard’s shoulders slumped. He turned to leave, then paused. “What if I offered you a powerful enchanted sword?”

Dave shrugged. “Can I trade it for a Greggs voucher?”

The wizard sighed, muttered something about “the end of civilisation,” and vanished in a puff of magical smoke.

Dave leaned back in his chair. “Honestly,” he said, “some people just don’t know how to recruit properly.”

And with that, he returned to his phone, scrolling until it was an acceptable time to microwave his pasty.

Five Squirrels in a Trench Coat

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

Love is blind, they say. But is it this blind? You thought you had found the perfect partner—charming, mysterious, maybe a little jittery—but something just feels… off. They disappear for long periods, avoid direct questions, and seem way too interested in nuts. Could it be that your significant other isn’t a single human being at all, but rather five squirrels working together in an elaborate disguise?

Here are some clear warning signs that you may, in fact, be dating a highly coordinated team of woodland rodents.

1. They Avoid Sitting in Chairs Like a Normal Person

Have you ever actually seen them sit in a chair properly? No, they either crouch on the edge, sit bolt upright with an unnatural stiffness, or refuse to sit at all. They might even grip the chair arms a little too tightly, as if struggling against gravity. Almost as if… they’re trying to prevent the whole operation from toppling over.

2. They’re Weirdly Obsessed with Trees

A casual stroll in the park turns into an uncomfortable experience. Their eyes dart towards every tree, their whole body tensing. They get distracted mid-conversation whenever they spot an oak, and they always suggest sitting under a tree instead of at a café. One time, you caught them stroking the bark and whispering, “Home”.

3. Their Diet Consists Almost Entirely of Nuts and Berries

When you first started dating, you thought it was just a quirky personality trait. “Oh, they’re just really into healthy snacks!” But now that you think about it, they’ve never ordered anything at a restaurant that requires cutlery. They recoil at the sight of soup, avoid pasta like the plague, and get visibly excited whenever they spot an unattended bowl of peanuts.

4. Their Hands Are Always Hidden

Gloves. Long sleeves. A firm commitment to pockets. They refuse to let you see their hands, no matter how many times you jokingly ask, “What, are you hiding something?” If you do manage to catch a glimpse, they seem… smaller than expected. Although strangely dexterous. Suspiciously furry.

5. Their Speech Patterns Are Strange and Repetitive

They keep repeating phrases like, “Yes, indeed, what a normal human thing to say,” or “Ah, the stock market, of course, a topic I understand.” Their vocabulary leans heavily towards survivalist themes: “Dangerous world out there.” “Must be alert at all times.” “Food storage is key.” If you ask them about their childhood, they get evasive and say something cryptic like, “I was raised in the trees.”

6. They Have a Deep-Seated Fear of Dogs

You introduce them to your friend’s Labrador, and suddenly, they’re on edge. Their eyes widen, and they slowly start edging towards the nearest tree. When the dog notices them and barks, they disappear so fast you barely see them go. Later, they claim they “just had somewhere to be”.

7. You Once Caught Them Trying to Fit Into a Postbox

This should have been the moment you realised. Maybe it was a dare, maybe they said they “dropped something,” but no normal human attempts to crawl inside a postbox with such determination. When you confronted them, they panicked and threw a handful of acorns at you before bolting at an inhuman speed.

What To Do If You Suspect Your Partner is Five Squirrels in a Trench Coat

• Test their reflexes. Drop something suddenly—do they dart after it with alarming precision?

• Offer them a salad. If they pick out everything except the nuts, you have your answer: you’re dating an unstable stack of rodents.

At this point, you have two choices:

1. Confront them. Sit them down (if they can sit) and ask for the truth.

2. Accept it. Maybe love really is blind. Maybe five squirrels working together in perfect harmony is actually the most romantic thing after all. Just know this: your relationship will require a steady supply of cashews.

Hollywood Announces Bold New Plan to Remake Every Movie Ever Made, Forever

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

Hollywood executives have unveiled an ambitious new initiative to remake, reboot, and reimagine every single movie that has ever existed, ensuring that original ideas will remain safely buried where they belong.

The announcement included a slate of upcoming remakes, including:

• Titanic (2026) – Now a cinematic universe where multiple Titanics sink across different timelines.

• The Godfather (2027) – Starring a TikTok influencer with 50 million followers but no acting experience.

• Jaws (2028) – Remade with 100% CGI and a gritty backstory for the shark where he’s actually the misunderstood hero.

• Citizen Kane (2030) – Reworked as a musical with EDM remixes and a post-credits scene teasing a sequel.

Industry analysts say the strategy is foolproof.

“Think about it,” said film historian Mark Reynolds. “If you watch a movie as a kid, then Hollywood remakes it when you’re an adult, you’ll go watch it for nostalgia. Then, when you’re old, they’ll remake it again, and you’ll go see it for nostalgia of your nostalgia.”

Some critics have voiced concerns that Hollywood’s obsession with remakes is killing creativity.

However, studio representatives dismissed these fears, stating:

“As long as people keep showing up, we’ll keep pressing Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V.”

What’s Next?

Looking ahead, Hollywood is already working on the remake of the remake of the remake of Spider Man.