During my junior year of high school, I showed up at a golf match to find my opponent angrily arguing with his coach. After a lengthy diatribe, he stormed inside the clubhouse, presumably to coddle himself. Eventually, he reemerged and we teed off on the first hole. After his coach was out of earshot, the pudgy teenager ripped off his collared polo, stuffing it inside his golf bag. “I can’t concentrate without my lucky Dragonball Z cutoff on,” he wailed. I pounded him by nineteen shots.

I don’t know a damn thing about Dragonball Z except it qualifies as an anime. Before tonight, I had no interest in seeking out more information because well, I’m not a pathetic asshole without a shred of good taste. Unfortunately, my editor ruined my evening by assigning me this disaster. So, here’s your damn casting news.

According to The Hollywood Reporter, both James Marsters and Justin Chatwin have signed on to star as the super-villain and hero respectively. The basic premise centers around an adult humanoid alien dubbed Goku. At some point in the story, he learns his mission on Earth is to destroy civilization, but like any good adult humanoid alien would, he stays and fights against the impending extraterrestrial onslaught. Somewhere along the way, all the characters will begin searching for Dragonballs.

Are you kidding me? Who are the buffoons paying to watch this idiotic fantasy? I guess producers at least deserve a little applause for casting James Marsters. The man’s IMDB reads like a damn bibliography of bad science fiction. Why shouldn’t he pilot this Hindenburg too?

Here’s a short list of things more deserving of your eight dollars than this animated nonsense:
Wham! Greatest Hits.
The buffet at Ponderosa.
Pogs.
Stingray defense lessons from Steve Irwin.
Half an hour with Sylvia Browne.