Paul Blart: Mall Cop III
An unauthorized parody by Noah Pasternak
This book uses characters from exisiting works as well as real-world celebrities; however it is done in a satirical manner and therefore qualifies as parody and is protected under fair use guidelines.
Once upon a time, there was a groundbreaking film called, “Paul Blart: Mall Cop”. It was universally hailed by critics as influential cinema that would change the great medium forever. So it was only natural that in 2015, a follow-up film was made, curiously titled, “Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2”.
With the rave reviews the first film got, it was expected for the sequel to be just as well-received. But unfortunately, it was not to be.
“Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2” was a cinematic masterpiece, but the critics couldn’t see it that way. They though it was “tedious”, and “repetitive”, and “the exact same joke of the main character falling down over and over again”. For whatever reason, it seemed as if the critics had failed to appreciate just how truly masterful the sequel was.
Suffice it to say, the negative reaction had unfortunately killed any hope of a third film. This may not sound like such an ordeal to you, but let me inform you why it is.
Long ago, before the dawn of man, there was a prophecy from God. He came down to Earth one day. That’s right, everybody saw his face. It looked kind of like Crispin Glover, but with a mustache. Anyways, when God arrived on Earth, he said, “Lo and behold. One day, may years from now, there will be a trilogy. Not just any trilogy, but… a Blart trilogy. I foresee three films with an overweight mall cop whom repeatedly falls off of his segway, and it’s gonna be like so damn funny you guys. And once all three films are made, world peace shall be achieved at last.”
So, you see, it is crucial to all of mankind that the third “Paul Blart: Mall Cop” movie is made. But sadly, it looks as if that is not to be.
Yes, I have taken it upon myself to achieve world peace, by writing the script to “Paul Blart: Mall Cop 3 (The Blartening)”. And I assume that movie executives are going to think it’s so great, that they will immediately finance the film, and it’s gonna be a smash hit, and world peace will happen.
In short, the book you are reading right now is not just a book. It is a key. But it is not just a key. It is a key to redemtpion. But not just to redemption. To redemption for mankind. But not just mankind. All of mankind.
So, enjoy. I am not a hero, I am just doing the duty of one.
Paul Blart was just your average mall cop. Except he was kind of chubby, and that right there is an instant joke. Hell, I think we could just base the entire film off of that.
Emphasis on Blart was your average mall cop… but not anymore. For you see, he had lost his job not long ago. It was a sordid story.
What I’m about to do now is a storytelling device called a “flashback”. Essentially what it entails is that I will be retelling what happened at a certain point of time in Blart’s life. Now, this is going to be a very emotional flashback, so I feel it necessary to warn you now that by the end of it, you will be drenched in tears and contemplating suicide.
It was just a year ago today, thought Blart.
Just one year ago that day was like every other day at the mall. Blart was happily riding on his segway, falling off every few minutes (high comedy if I do say so myself), and checking the individual stores to make sure that there were no shoplifters.
There were never any shoplifters under Blart’s rule. He was the best mall cop there was. There was, however, something much worse in the mall that day… the ghost of Saddam Hussein.
“Freeze, Blart!” yelled Saddam. Blart recognized his old enemy from the Vietnam war (they both fought on opposing sides back in the day). “So, Saddam, we meet again,” Blart quipped. “Yes, Blart, and I am back to finish what I had started in ‘Nam,” Saddam remarked, with a thirst for blood in his face more visible than than himself, seeing as he was a ghost and all and ghosts are generally transparent.
“I suggest you leave now, Saddam,” said Blart. “Fighting you isn’t worth the time since I couldn’t finish it anyways. You know the motto: ‘a mall cop never kills’.”
“Okay then, I guess I’ll leave,” Saddam sadly remarked. As he started to slink away back to the depths of Hell, he abruptly turned around, lunged his ghost body towards Blart, and said, “Just kidding! You should’ve seen the look on your face, it was like so hilarious”. He body slammed our protagonist, and to Blart, this meant war.
Blart uttered his infamous catchphrase, “You damn kid, I’m gonna hit you in the face with my segway (I expect this phrase to be sold on T-shirts, mugs, contraceptive pills, etc.)!”, and then smacked Saddam right in the face with his beloved segway.
The dusk cleared. Blart noticed a dent in his transportation device. A tear approached his eye, yet this was not nearly as bad compared to what he would remember in a second: the only way to permanently kill a ghost is to hit them with a segway transporter (this is an ancient legend I’m sure you’re all familiar with).
Blart looked down at the horror which was Saddam’s dead body. He remembered his motto, for which he had stuck to for years: a mall cop never kills. Yet, here he was; a mall cop that had just killed.
Well, a mall cop no longer. The NMCA (National Mall Cop Association, for you uneducated slobs) was extremely disappointed with Blart. “Disgraceful,” said the Grand Poobah. “Hand in your badge.” That was only the beginning of the shame Blart was in for. An image of Blart with the American flag flying at half-maced plastered the cover of that month’s TIME magazine. The caption read, “BLART: Hero No More?” Churches began to shut down left, right, and center. For if Blart was not a mall cop, surely there could be no God. President Barack Obama resigned his post out of fear.
Cut back to present day. There Blart was, sitting alone in his recliner, drinking a beer and smoking sixteen cigarettes at once, whilst watching a dimly-lit television. A mall cop never kills, he repeated to himself. A mall cop never kills.
As the days went by, Blart had become a ghastly caricature of his former self. Week after week, he had just sat in his recliner, contemplating where he could go from here in life.
For the first time in a year, he decided to stand up and clean the urine off of his pants. While sponging them clean, he noticed a noise coming from the closet nearby. This was not a normal noise; it was almost as if something in there was… calling to him.
“Who’s there?” asked Blart. No answer. He decided he would go over and inspect the closet for himself. In there, he found his old segway. All dusty and unused for what seemed an eternity.
You know those emotional scenes in movies when the protagonist reflects on his past endeavours and it’s really sad and stuff? This would be that scene in the movie. So yes, it is appropriate to cry and start screaming, “WILL BLART EVER RIDE AGAIN?!” at the top of your lungs at everyone you see for the next eight days.
Blart let out a heavy sigh. He missed his segway more than he missed human companionship. His segway was better than a human. Segways wouldn’t talk back to you, or say stupid crap like, “Why are you so obsessed with Paul Blart movies? Get a job or something, and stop writing a third film that will never see the light of day.”
“I miss you, my segway,” Blart declared aloud. He moved in for a kiss, but the segway did not return the favor. “Even my own segway doesn’t want me anymore,” sighed Blart.
As he was about to cry, he heard a knock on the front door. He went to answer it very slowly. But the knocking grew louder and faster. This knocking was too intense for Blart. He eventually starting screaming furiously and flailing on to the ground. Finally, the person at the door busted through, using their face.
Blart looked up in awe. For this was no ordinary person at the door. This was… the president.
Now, before I mentioned that Obama had resigned out of disappointment in Blart. So, who was this guy calling himself president?
It was the president character that Kevin James had played in the smash-hit Pixels.
Now, you may be shouting at this book, “This notion is preposterous! Both Blart and the president character are portrayed by Kevin James; this could not come to fruition in a movie.”
This is called a crossover, which is when two characters from separate entities meet up. For example, there was that one, The Flintstones Meet The Jetsons, where Fred Flintstone met George Jetson, and Fred was all, “Yabba Dabba Doo”, while George was like, “Jane, stop this crazy thing”. All you need to do in this scenario is to use your imagination and replace Fred with Blart and George with the president. And instead of, “Yabba Dabba Doo”, Blart would say former mall cop stuff, and instead of, “Jane, stop this crazy thing,” the president would say, “We need to kill ISIS or something presidential”.
“Former mall cop stuff,” said Blart.
“We need to kill ISIS or something presidential,” the president began.
“But there are more important matters at hand now,” he continued. “Blart, we need you for a very important mission.”
“I don’t do that stuff anymore. I was fired from being a mall cop.”
“You don’t understand, Blart. Obama’s been kidnapped, and we need him back.”
Well, hot damn, what’s this? You should see the look on your face right now! What I have just done here is borrowed a page from M. Night Shyamalan’s book, and pulled a twist. See, before I led you to believe that Barack Obama had just resigned, but nope, he was kidnapped.
“Kidnapped?” asked Blart. “By who?”
“The ghost of Saddam Hussein,” the president replied.
Whoa mama, this is some deep stuff right here. Not only have I rustled your jimmies with a twist, but I have now proceeded to add another twist and double-twist this story.
“Saddam?” Blart said. “He’s… he’s back? But I thought he was gone for good.”
“Unfortunately, his ghost was re-animated. He is holding Obama for ransom. We’ve just led the public to believe that he resigned, and that I was his fill-in for the time being.”
“Re-animated? By who? Who brought his ghost back to life?”
The president let out a heavy sigh. “By me.”
Well, blow me down, a triple twist! I can already smell all the Oscars this movie is going to win.
“Let me explain, Blart. So, basically, a while ago me and my friends were like, ‘you know what would be hilarious? Reading Saddam Hussein’s e-mails.’ So, we got clearance from Obama to spend taxpayer money on ghost-re-animation technologies, because he thought that would be like so funny as well, and we needed to ask Saddam for his e-mail password. But he never gave it to us. Instead, he just kidnapped Obama and… yeah.”
“This is all well and good, but… why do you need me?” Blart inquired.
“You were the greatest mall cop of all time. Only you have the skills to save America.”
So now, you would expect Blart to say that of course he will go and save our beloved president from the evil clutches of Saddam Hussein’s re-animated ghost. But unfortunately, it cannot be this simple. You see, there’s a plot device called “conflict”. It’s present in many great movies, such as Jack & Jill, That’s My Boy, and Norm of the North. Essentially, what conflict is is when something becomes difficult for one reason or another.
“I can’t do it,” Blart sadly said. “I was a mall cop. But I was disgraced by my misdeeds. I am not worthy of such a task.”
See, this is an internal conflict. Blart is unsure of himself on the inside, which is just like the saddest thing ever. It’s really powerful, if I do say so myself.
The president slapped Blart in the face. Then he did it again. Then again. Then for a few more times. Then he punched Blart in the face a few times.
“Damn it, Blart, this isn’t about you. The fate of AMERICA lies in your hands. You know you want to be a mall cop again, and now is your chance.”
“That was a very inspirational speech,” Blart said. And it was. Worthy of at least one Golden Globe and two Oscars. “I guess it’s time for (there will be a dramatic pause here, for about six minutes in order to emphasize just how important this scene is) Blart to ride again.
Blart arrived at the White House.
Many people were shocked to see him there. They had no idea why Blart… after all of the shame he had suffered in the past year… would dare to return to the public.
“Why are we here?” asked Blart.
“If you’re gonna save Obama, we’re gonna need to get you some tools.”
“Yeah. We have some new weapons our guys in the lab have been working o—-”
Blart let out a shriek, which caused everybody in a nearby vicinity’s ears to bleed. “No!” Blart exclaimed. “I only have one tool, and that is my segway.”
“Your segway is a relic of the past,” the president argued.
Blart shrieked again. He bit the president in the face. “My segway is many things, but a relic? You must be insane.”
Blart bolted out of the White House, crying frantically. He ran all the way home, with the stamina only a highly-trained mall cop such as himself could possess. Once he arrived back home (which was about three minutes later. Again, he’s a pretty fast guy), he ran to the closet that held his beloved segway.
He opened the door.
He dusted off his segway.
“It’s time to ride again,” Blart said aloud. “It’s time to ride again.”
At this point in time, I am expecting the audience to stand up and applaud, and cry even more than if they were just forced to murder the single person closest to them. This is powerful stuff right here.
So Blart got on his segway. He powered it up for the first time since that fateful incident which we have gone into detail about already. You know, the one with Saddam and everything.
He drove away, out of his house and onto the street, ready to save the day once again.
“INCOMING TRANSMISSION”, read the miniature screen on Blart’s segway.
“Maybe this means my pizza is ready,” Blart casually joked, as the audience eruppted in uncontrollable laughter. I assume at least two audience members with unfortunately die of laughter (as is the price to pay).
But no, there was no pizza for Blart.
Blart answered the transmission, and who else but Saddam himself turned out to be making the call.
“Saddam, you filthy whack-a-mole! Hand back Obama this instant!” he exclaimed. But Saddam had other plans in mind.
“Oh, Paul Blart, you fool,” Saddam began. “I have no intention of returning Obama to his natural habitat. For you see, I will hold him hostage and then, as the people of Earth devolve into a frenzy due to the lack of president, I shall take the opportunity.”
“Everyone will be distracted. And while they are, from the save haven of my secret base on Jupiter, I will activate a death ray and blow up the planet Earth.”
Saddam Hussein smirked.
“Because, Paul Blart, I need the money.”
Blart grimaced. This was indeed a flawless plan, but nothing was more flawless than the mall cop himself. He could thwart it.
“Where did you say your secret base was again?”
“I can’t tell you, you stupid mall cop, otherwise my secret base on the planet Jupier at the exact coordinates of G-20 and F-16 would no longer be secret.”
It wasn’t easy, but throughout that sentence Blart managed to piece some vague clues together to give him an idea of where his base might have been.
Blart set his segway to rocket ship mode. Fortunately, he didn’t need to worry about things like outer space having no oxegyn because he’s better than you. The two rockets protruded out of his segway, and shot him up into the sky faster than a speeding bullet.
He left Earth’s atmosphere and then created a hole in the Ozone Layer (remember, Paul Blart is fat and that is the only joke we can use in these movies). “Segway,” he commanded, “set a course for Jupiter!”
Hold on, I just had a thought.
You know what would be cool? If his segway actually responded to him, like a Knight Rider-type thing. Who would it be voiced by though? Maybe Micheal Richards?
Yeah, Micheal Richards.
We can make tons in merchandising with toys of the segway. Kids will be killing each other at Toys R Us to get one!
“Oh, Jerry, I need to borrow your scissors! I started a business neutering pigs,” the Richards-voiced segway replied.
“What?” asked Blart. “Why would you do that?”
“Oh, Jerry, all the other pig-neutering businesses, they screw the poor farmers, Jerry! I’ve got a friend whose uncle is a farmer and he complains about it all the time. ‘Those neuterers, they don’t care about the people’ he always says. So me and Newman, we’re opening up a discount pig-neutering place. We’ve already got ten clients, Jerry, then clients!”
“Just take me to the damn planet.”
Note to self: start writing Seinfeld episodes, see if that goes anywhere after this movie gets made.
As Blart arrived on Jupiter, he noticed something: it was quiet. Too quiet. As a matter of fact, we need to ensure that the ushers in movie theaters with mangle anybody in the audience who makes any noise druing this scene, as we need to ensure that suspension of disbelief can be held.
You see, with suspension of disbelief, you need to make sure that people are constantly sucked into the story being told. If anything so much as a cricket chirps during this moment, everything we’ve worked so hard for will be crapped upon as if it were a toilet with the seat up, ready to recieve.
And this movie is not ready to recieve any feces.
Then all of a sudden, Saddam’s henchman hopped out and pounced on Blart!
Who is Saddam’s henchman, you asked? He is Rubbin’, the Kid Wonder, retired superhero sidekick turned to a life of crime.
“Holy mall cop on Jupiter!” exclaimed Rubbin’. “Looks like I’ll have to kill you, sir!”
“Maybe later, but not today lad,” Blart casually remarked, most likely causing every woman in the audience to swoon (if executed well, every Lesbian will probably turn straight).
“Giddy up!” the Richards-voiced segway added.
Blart and Rubbin’ fought a very gruesome battle. I expect it to be so gripping and intense that audiences will become afraid. But fear not, because Blart eventually punched straight through Rubbin’s chest, causing him to bleed out and die.
“Holy bleeding out and dying due to the fact that this mall cop just impaled my chest!” were Rubbin’s final words.
Blart looked over the deceased Rubbin’ in horror. “I… I said I would never kill again. But I did,” he sniffled.
“But wait… it was for the greater good! And maybe sometimes, you have to break the rules to do good.”
This is the moral of the movie. The type of thing audiences won’t be told by their parents as a child. The type of thing they won’t be taught at school. And no, you won’t find this type of thing coming from Elmo and Big Bird on Sesame Street. And Mr. Rogers? Hoo boy, if you think Mr. Rogers would teach this lesson, then buddy boy, you’re wrong as hell. If you were to ask Mr. Rogers to teach you this lesson, he would smack you in the face with a pair of pliers and say, “Looks like it isn’t such a beautiful day… in your FACE, neighbour”.
Note to self: After this movie/Seinfeld venture are through, write action film about Mr. Rogers. Possibly starring Stallone.
This moral is one you’ll only find in this movie. And that’s why Paul Blart is a franchise more important than any other, and must be completed.
“You have to break the rules to do good,” Blart repeated. “Wouldn’t you agree, segway?”
“I’m outta the contest, Jerry!” the Richards-voiced segway responded.
Onto Saddam’s secret base, Blart thought.
He travelled to the exact coordinates that Saddam had specified beforehand. And there it was: the aforementioned secret base. But not just any base. An exact replica of Pee-Wee’s Playhouse.
Of course! Blart thought. Saddam Hussein was always talking about Pee-Wee’s Playhouse. I should’ve suspected as much.
As soon as Blart entered, he heard a familiar voice.
“Welcome, Paul Blart. I’ve been expecting you.”
It was Saddam. Dressed in a Pee-Wee Herman tuxedo.
“You’re scum, Saddam.” Blart growled. “Scum that deserves to be wiped out.”
“I know you are, but what am I?” Saddam laughed.
“Seriously, Saddam, hand over Barack Obama or else I swear—-”
Saddam, Conky, Chairy, Pterry, and Randy all screamed excitedly. “You said ‘swear’! That’s our secret word of the day!” Saddam yelled.
“What’s with the Pee-Wee obsession here, Saddam? I knew you always enjoyed the show, as does anybody really, but this is a new extreme.”
“Oh, Paul Blart, it’s true that I always had something of an affinity for Pee-Wee’s Playhouse. But now, I am forced to think about it all day.”
Blart was confused, so Saddam clarified.
“For you see, after you killed me, my will specified that I was to be buried alongside a DVD copy of season one of Pee-Wee’s Playhouse. But due to some supernatural force, one even stronger than you, the DVDs combined with my deceased corpse and gave me new life. This is me know.”
The room was silent.
“Tequila,” Saddam added.
“Cut the crap, Saddam. Just hand over Obama now and you can be left alone to re-enact this Saturday-morning TV show from the early 1990s to your heart’s content. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Actually, I was thinking I would just kill Obama while I had him here.”
"Okay, if you insi--- wait, I mean, yes. Care to say goodbye to your beloved president before I dispose of him?"
Saddam pressed a button, which then revealed that Barack Obama (played by Adam Sandler), was stuck in a cage.
“Oh, Paul Blart, ya gotta help me! Dis Saddam guy, he’s hurtin’ me heinie! Scooby booby!” Obama cried.
Blart ran towards Obama, who was vigorously thinking up rhymes for “Hannukah”, until Saddam karate chopped him.
The fight was on.
Blart lunged at Saddam and punched him twice. But this would not be enough to stop him permanently. And as usual, Saddam wasn’t going to fight clean.
For you see, he had a gun.
Saddam shot three bullets, each of them nailing Blart. Since Blart is a stronger individual than you, these were only minor annoyances to him. But a minor annoyance is still more than Blart had ever been harmed before.
This sensation was shocking to Blart. Was this the end for our favorite mall cop?
The audience is distraight and suicidal. If Blart can lose, is life even worth living?
They sadly glance at the screen, just to see if there’s any hope for him. It doesn’t look good.
Blart is on the ground. Saddam stands over him with a crowbar, ready to finish the job. But suddenly, Saddam heard a noise behind him.
It was Randy, the dastardly ventriloquist dummy from Pee-Wee’s Playhouse. He was harassing poor Pterry, the lovable pterodactyl scamp from the same show.
“Quit it, Randy!” Pterry pleaded. “You know the ‘P’ is silent!”
“What was that, PUH-Terry”? Randy just continued. And it went on and on until Saddam couldn’t focus on the task at hand anymore.
“Silence, Randy!” Saddam screamed. “Stop teasing Pterry!”
Blart suddenly came to as he saw an opportunity. Whilst Saddam Hussein was busy scolding a puppet, he could destroy him once and for all.
Blart quietly snuck up behind him. He grabbed the gun Saddam had shot him with before, and retuned the favor.
Saddam lay on the ground, bleeding.
“Damnit!” he muttered.
“Language, plase,” Blart said. “There’s no need to swear.”
Coughing up blood, Saddam tried to get his final words out.
Blart leaned in closer to hear him.
Struggling, with the faintest voice to ever be heard, Saddam managed to squeak out one last thought through the pain. “Y-y-you….”
“What is it, Saddam? What are you trying to tell me?”
With all his might, Saddam moaned, “Y-y-y-you….you….”
Before he dropped dead, Saddam said one last thing.
“…That’s our secret word of the day.”
He was gone.
The world was safe.
Paul Blart had done his duty.
Once he and Obama retuned to Earth on his segway, a huge celebration in honor of Blart was held.
“Paul Blart: Mall Cop,” Obama began.
“You saved deh world today from going doooown de toilet! Flushie flushie! Anyways, I’ve prepared a song for you.”
(To the tune of Adam Sandler’s Hannukah Song)
With all my heartakah,
I salute Paul Blartakah!
He’s very smartakah,
Good old Paul Blartakah!
Paul Blart is
The greatest hero on Earth.
So come along now children,
Let us bask in his mirth!
He saved the planet once again,
And that was truly grand.
So come on, fellow citizens,
Let’s lend Paul Blart a hand…
Go to Wal-Martakah,
And buy a gift for Paul Blartakah!
Do you know what’s off the chartakah?
The greatness of Paul Blartakah!
My favorite Simpson is Bartakah,
But he never saved us like Paul Blartakah!
And if you really, really wannakah
Wish Paul Blart a happy, happy, happy Hannukah!
Paul Blart was re-instated as mall cop once again, riding on his segway to his heart’s content. Not only is he the greatest human being in the world, he’s also the happiest human being in the world.
To any film studio executives it may concern:
This was my pitch for an end to the Paul Blart trilogy. I know you enjoyed it and are pulling out your checkbooks now to fund it.
If you choose to participate in it’s making, then not only will you make quintillions of dollars, but you will also be doing a valuable public service by finishing the will of God and by result starting world peace. I know it sounds weird that the key to happiness throughout the planet is Kevin James fighting Saddam Hussein, but trust me on this one.
By the way, I’m flexible on a few creative aspects that may need to be changed during production of the film.
Should Adam Sandler not be availible for the part of Barack Obama, then I was thinking Rob Schneider could take the role. Or, if all else fails, we could consider letting Barack himself play the part (I feel as if it would feel unauthentic, though).
Also, instead of biting the president towards the start of the movie, maybe he could force him to lick sandpaper. This is only a worst-case scenario thing for if Kevin James is uncomfortable with doing a biting scene. I will not, however, budge on the sandpaper licking if it comes to that.
Also, I will recieve 100% of the film's profits, and maybe I'll take a few pens from the film studio.
I’m looking forward to getting things started!
Noah “Snagglepuss” Pasternak
P.S.: Please don’t sue me Kevin James
Paul Blart, the omnipotent mall cop with powers greater than mankind can fathom, saves both planet Earth and Barack Obama (played by Adam Sandler) from destruction at the hands of Saddam Hussein's ghost while trying to cure his crippling depression in this unauthorized parody.