#specially because he really wanted to impress Ed with his movie knowledge for reasons that don't involve a crush ofc not shut up

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Headcannon that Riddler and Harley are Tumblr users and just decided to bully the other Rogues asking them about Goncharov. The only ones who also knew the meme were the zoomers: Anarky and Punchline (who was never adressed as she and Harley hate each other and Eddie is jealous over the fact she is the only Rogue with more followers on social media than him, Anarky on the other hand is their babie and was hapily included) [Lynx also counts but she is a very minor Rogue and more conected to Tim, so she only gets a footnote].

The lack of knowledge about the meme only made Eddie and Harley more brutal, their biggest target being Penguin, Oswald has no internet knowledge but he knows a bunch about classic movies and Scorcese and the fact he apparently missed this one gave him huge amounts of distress.

Their last target was Scarecrow. Now Jonathan had no idea what they were talking about as he cares little for social media or even movies but he knows the best way to deal with Nygma and Quinn is play along with their bs. Now since he said he knew the movie and vaguely mentioned a generic mafia movie trope to describe a scene he liked, Edward and Harls decided that Jon should also be secretly a Tumblr user and decided to discuss Goncharov with him. Jonathan who was just lying his ass out about the movie and agreeing with them was shocked that he apparently knew soo much about a film he didn't recall watching so he decided to look the movie up when he discovered that he wasted precious study hours discussing a movie that wasn't even real (and that at this point, while he wouldn't admit, he really wanted to watch) made him really pissed. Harls and Eddie may have ended their day fear toxed. Sad for Diedre, Nina and Pam who had to do something about it.

Since they are both the smartest morons in Gotham and share one braincell they concluded that the attack was Jonathan response over the fact they knew he had a Tumblr and a treat so they wouldn't tell other people about it. So now they are on a quest to find Scarecrow totally real and not a misanderstanding Tumblr account.

[theladyofdeath]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 4}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2550

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Apollo

– God of light, prophecy, inspiration, poetry, the sun, music and arts, medicine and healing

Aelin tried to convince herself that she got up and got ready two hours early for class because of her busy schedule. She kept telling herself it was for the meeting she had with her advisor, about a possible internship at the end of the semester.

She knew that both reasons, while extremely important, were full of shit. She knew she’d showered, blow dried and curled her hair for Rowan. It wasn’t that she was trying to impress him. She’d already done that and the chance she had to be with him had come and gone.

No, now it was about proving to him that even though this class may be a gen ed, she was taking it seriously.

Dropping the class had crossed her mind. She really didn’t need to take it, she could still find a different one to pick up. But she didn’t want to think about the sort of impression it would leave about her.

If there was anything to know about Aelin Galathynius, it was that she was not a quitter, nor did she run from her problems.

Or heartaches.

With one last look in the mirror, and a whistle from Lysandra, Aelin was out the door and hurrying across campus. She grabbed a coffee on the way, but avoided her usual place, knowing full well that Rowan enjoyed the same famous cafe that she did.

He wasn’t there yet when she got to the hall, but she took the same seat she had the class before.

She wondered if Rowan would be looking for her this time.

She quickly shook the thought away.

With her hot coffee on the corner of her fold up desk, she was pulling out her notebook and a pen, waiting anxiously for class to begin.

For him to walk through the door.

Apparently he liked to be right on the dot, though, because students continued to wander in, but he did not.

She was tapping her pen against her notebook, doing her best not to stare at the clock. She was just anxious for her day to start. It wasn’t that she wanted to see Rowan.

Professor Whitethorn, she amended in her head. She had to quit thinking of him as Rowan. She couldn’t think of him like that anymore, his body pressing into hers, lips on her neck, as he—

Shaking her head, Aelin sighed and suddenly realized that the rest of the class had hushed. She was so focused on reprimanding herself for her highly inappropriate thoughts that she hadn’t noticed him come through the door and begin setting up for class. When she dared to glance towards the front, she found his eyes on her. He quickly looked away, going back to his laptop and setting up the PowerPoint on screen.

Maybe he hadn’t been looking at her.

Maybe it had all been in her mind.

But she didn’t think it had been.

He had been watching her.

“Happy Thursday, class,” he began, as the title page of his presentation flashed onto the board. “Glad to see you all showed up again. Must mean my first class didn’t suck.” Quiet laughter thrummed through the room. Aelin couldn’t muster a laugh, though. “On Tuesday, we covered the basics. So, today… Sorry, we’re doing that again.”

More laughter, especially from the pretty, flirty girls up front.

Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Which, when she settled her eyes back on Rowan, he definitely saw.

Come on, get your shit together, she chastised herself. With her back straightened, she gave him her full attention.

She took dutiful notes, but his slides didn’t hold much in the way of information. They were mostly headers, with a few bullet points. Most of the important information, information she knew would be critical for homework or exams, came straight from Rowan’s mouth.

It was clear that he loved mythology, that it wasn’t just a class his aunt had tossed his way and told him to figure it out. He was a trove of knowledge and she noticed he had a habit of going on slight tangents when he got going on a topic he was clearly interested in.

After a student asked him to clarify what he meant about Hercules not being Zeus’ only son, he ended up talking for nearly twenty minutes about what the beloved Disney movie had gotten wrong. Aelin had stopped taking notes and was watching him go on and on about how Hades, while god of the underworld, was not necessarily a villain. He just had a job to do. A job that had rules that must be followed, or the consequences could damn not only him, but others involved. His eyes found hers again and the amused smile on her face fell as she made the correlation between their own situation and the story.

They held each other’s gazes for far longer than was appropriate, and Rowan cleared his throat, going back to the PowerPoint, and the  predetermined lesson plans he’d made, which didn’t include children’s movie breakdowns.

She watched him.

She listened.

And she found it all fascinating. 

Rowan peeked at the clock after going on and on, and stilled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’ll end there. There is an assignment due by tomorrow evening. You can find and submit it online. It’s an opinion piece. I want a little insight as to why you were so interested to take this class, or what you’ve found fascinating so far.” He sat on his desk, his legs hanging over the side, his feet nearly touching the ground as he leaned back on his palms. Aelin found it charming. “You’re going to write a short essay telling me of your favorite deity. It could be one I’ve talked about so far, or one I haven’t. It’s your choice. But, tell me why they are your favorite. Give me a little depth. And, remember, this is a college course. Grammar counts.”

The clock struck nine-thirty and everyone began packing up. Aelin had been so captivated by his voice that she had to snap herself back to reality.

She quickly packed up her bag, alongside the other students around her. She noticed then how young they all were, and she was willing to bet that she may be the only senior on the roster. As she was descending the stairs, she found Rowan’s eyes on her again, but he looked away as his attention was taken, thanks to the group of girls who’d been sitting in the front row. She heard vague questions of whether they could all write about Aphrodite, since they all related to her.

The scoff Aelin thought she’d kept to herself had apparently been out loud, since not only Rowan looked at her as she passed, but so did the three girls. With his attention on her again, she decided to give him a little wave.

“See you later, Professor Whitethorn.”

If there was some extra sway to her hips, it wasn’t on purpose.

At least that’s what she told herself.

Two and a half hours later, Aelin was starving. She’d just gotten out of an extremely complicated lab and she could barely focus over the growling of her stomach. Twice, the instructor had looked over at her, half expecting to find a dog stashed under the table she was working at.

So when the class let out, she was hurrying toward the cafeteria ready to get a salad from the salad bar and a big ass slice of pizza.

It was all about balance. 

As she was waiting in line to fill her plate with salad, she heard a voice behind her.

“Are you actually getting lettuce or just filling your plate with ham, cheese, and croutons?” 

Aelin looked over her shoulder to find Chaol, her ex, suppressing a smile.

Aelin chuckled. “If it’s the same price, you may as well pile up on the good stuff.” 

Chaol gave her a small smile. “Fair enough. It’s good to see you, Aelin. You look good.”

Things hadn’t ended the best between her and Chaol, but that had been just after freshman year. At least now when they ran into one another, they could have nice little conversations like this one.

No hard feelings.

“You too,” she said, and he did. He’d been in an accident the year before. They weren’t sure he was going to walk again. In all honesty, it was just good to see him on his feet.

“How long until your class?” He asked, sliding his tray along behind hers.

She glanced down at her watch. “About forty five minutes. You?”

“This is my long break,” he sighed. “I’ve got an hour and a half, but didn’t feel like leaving campus. Want to have lunch with me?”

“Sure.” Her smile wasn’t forced, it was easy and she was glad they could even do this, when three years again, they could barely be in the same room.

“I assume you’re getting a piece of pizza after this,” Chaol said with a smirk, nodding towards her plate. “So I’ll grab us a table while you get the rest of your lunch.”

She scoffed but nodded, and went off to get a slice of pizza. When she ordered her pizza, she also got a slice of cheesecake. It was his favorite, something she hadn’t forgotten, but it didn’t hurt that she liked it, too.

Finding him in the cafeteria, she sat down at the table across from him. “How’s Yrene doing?”

He blushed, and Aelin had to admit it was adorable. After his accident, he’d fallen for his physical therapist, and she was just as smitten with him. It must have been all the one-on-one sessions, because Chaol had never been one to let someone in. Aelin had met Yrene early in her med classes, but Yrene had specialized in PT and graduated in less than three years, taking as many classes as she could manage and even studying through the summers as well.

“It’s going good,” he said, at last. “We, uh, just moved in together, actually.”

Aelin lifted a brow. “That was fast.”

Chaol shot her a look.

Aelin laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, good for you. I like Yrene. A lot. You two are good together.”

Chaol cleared his throat before taking a bite of his salad. “Thanks.” 

Aelin chuckled, taking a bite of her pizza.

Chaol blinked. “What?”

“You get so uncomfortable when it comes to feelings,” she said. “Always have.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “That’s not true.”

Aelin stopped mid-chew and raised a brow.

Even Chaol couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What about you? Seeing anyone?”

Aelin hesitated, then said, “No.”

A slow grin appeared on Chaol’s mouth. “Didn’t sound so sure about what one.”

Aelin shrugged. “Better be nice or I’m not sharing this magnificent cheesecake with you.”

Holding up his hands in placation, Chaol went back to his salad. Rowan was a dangerous topic, one she wouldn’t share with anyone but Lysandra, so she summed it up quickly. “Met someone I thought I hit it off with. Turns out we didn’t work.”

He slowly nodded. Aelin knew he’d had a couple failed relationships between her and Yrene. “I get it, I’m sorry. Still sucks.”

Shrugging again, she turned to her salad. “It happens. Not a big deal. So if you’re living with Yrene, does that mean you and Dorian broke up? Or is he playing house with you, too?”

Chaol leveled her with a look. Chaol and Dorian had been best friends long before they came to the University of Orynth. They were both from Adarlan, both trying to get away from overbearing fathers, and decided college across the country was the way to do it. They’d been roommates every year and Aelin couldn’t even imagine Chaol living with anyone except Dorian. But now he was. “He moved into an apartment with Manon this semester when I moved in with Yrene.”

Aelin blinked. “Blackbeak? He moved in with Manon Blackbeak?”

Nodding, Chaol went on. “Apparently, they’ve been dating for about a year, without anyone noticing.”

Something in the way he said it told Aelin that he had noticed, but when Dorian had his mind set on something, there was no stopping him. And apparently, he’d decided to date one of the most terrifying women on campus.

Aelin’s response was eloquent. “Wow.”

Chaol grinned. “I like it when you’re caught off guard. It’s satisfying.”

With a scoffed she nudged his leg with the toe of her sneaker. “Well, I don’t. Dorian will be getting a very angry phone call this afternoon.”

“I’ll be sure to give him a warning,” Chaol promised.

Aelin chuckled, taking the last bite of her pizza. “It’s good to see you all happy, though. Really.”

Chaol’s eyes softened. “Thanks, Aelin.”

She nodded. “Even if I am terrified that Dorian will get eaten alive.”

Chaol laughed, and she had forgotten how nice Chaol’s rare, hearty laugh was.

She meant it. She was so happy for them, both of them. It was interesting how things changed over the course of a few short years.

Their conversation continued, as did the laughs, and before she knew it, Aelin glanced down at her watch. She had less than fifteen minutes to haul ass back to the nursing building for her next class. Chaol, who had much longer to sit with nothing to do, assured her that he could handle her trash and told her to get to class. With a hug, and a promise that they’d have dinner soon, all of them, even Manon, Aelin was hurrying out of the cafeteria building.

Somehow, the entire time she’d been having lunch with Chaol, she hadn’t noticed the set of pine green eyes watching her.

Rowan’s own break had been at the same time as hers, but the gen ed building was much closer than wherever she was having to run off to, so he had longer to sit and— there was no denying it— brood. They were halfway across the room, so he couldn’t hear any of their conversation. He had no clue who the tall man was she smiled at so often, but clearly they were very familiar with each other with how easily they talked. And he made her laugh. A lot.

Rowan wasn’t sure why that was what grated on his nerves the most, but it unsettled him.

Seeing Aelin with someone else, someone clearly her own age, it all unsettled him. He didn’t like it. Almost as much as her parting words in class had.

See you later, Professor Whitethorn.

It’s like she was mocking him, yet at the same time, she clearly wasn’t. She was doing exactly as he’d asked of her, seeing him as her professor, not as her boyfriend.

No, he reprimanded himself. Not boyfriend. Hookup.

They’d had sex one time, that didn’t give either of them any claim over the other. It was a hookup and nothing more. And she was his gods-damned student.

She was off limits, in every way possible.

Yet he couldn’t figure out why seeing her with someone else, someone she should clearly be interested in instead of him, had him seeing red.

[articulate-response-blog]

“I Think 'Dunkirk' Was Mediocre at Best, and It's Not Because I'm Some Naive Woman Who Doesn't Get It”

The offending article in question: http://www.marieclaire.com/celebrity/news/a28515/dunkirk-movie-review/ by Mehera Bonner

I am a white man. I take issue with Bonner’s article not because I hate “SJWs” or “Feminazis,” but because this article stylizes itself as a movie review and instead uses most of its space to tear down strawmen and generally be misandrist.

misandry: noun; dislike of, contempt for, or ingrained prejudice against men

Let’s look at the text of the article itself:

“That movie was fucking bomb." That was one reaction I overheard after watching Dunkirk, Christopher Nolan's new directorial gift to men, who are currently spending their time fervently ranking his movies, arguing about said rankings, and—presumably—wearing fedoras completely un-ironically. Or even worse, ironically.

Bonner begins with a thesis of sorts: Dunkirk is a “directorial gift to men,” and men who enjoy his movies like to wear fedoras, presumably because they are stupid. 

However, as we will see, Bonner does not fully support her thesis. She does bring up some valid criticism of the movie, but the article seems to devolve into repeating the same language found in this first paragraph without explaining her points. I’m not saying she needs to provide “data and statistics” for her movie review. Movie reviews are subjective. She needs to explain why Dunkirk is a “directorial gift to men,” and, if possible, why men are stupid and like to wear fedoras.

Obviously she doesn’t outright state that men are stupid here (that comes later), but for Bonner, the fedora is a synecdoche for the stereotype of a “neckbeard”: a white, fat, fedora-wearing man, who generally holds sexist beliefs and attitudes, while at the same time complaining and loudly wondering why they are not socially popular. The neckbeard is a strawman- but it’s not even clear what should be in place of the strawman. For no better reason, Bonner seems to mention men if only because Dunkirk is generally about a war populated heavily by men. There are no neckbeards in Dunkirk. 

If Bonner wanted to address the societal implications of Dunkirk, or explain how the heated anti-woman and anti-minority atmosphere of the current day played into her opinion of Dunkirk, I would be fine with that. In fact, I wouldn’t be writing this at all. I don’t think movies or any other art need to be divorced from the society in which they were made to be able to judge them fairly. But Bonner doesn’t do that. She just attacks “pretentious men” who “would love nothing more than to explain to [Bonner] why [she’s] wrong about not liking it.”

There are points about the film in this article:

The thing is, I just don't think Dunkirk is a very good movie—if your definition of the word movie is "moving images held together by a plot." Like, yes: Dunkirk is very well-made. I felt like I was going to vomit during it, because that's how intense it was. And if your interests include riding a visual roller coaster called war, you will love it. But if you're a fan of films with plots, Dunkirk doesn't play that game. It's as if Christopher Nolan (sorry, "Nolan") plucked out the war scene from a script, and was like "let's just make this part extra long and call it a movie, lol."

Here Bonner notes that she believes the film is well-made, but criticizes the overall plot structure of Dunkirk- something which has been divisive. Some critics like the structure, others don’t. I wonder what part of Dunkirk’s “plot” didn’t resonate with Bonner, but she doesn’t elaborate, instead choosing to mock “war movie fans,” “Christopher Nolan fans,” and Nolan himself.

The film, in case you aren't already aware due to the endless critical musings devoted to it, is about the real life battle of Dunkirk—where British and Allied troops were rescued by civilian boats and evacuated. It's a story worthy of being told and re-told, and I really enjoy war movies in general, but still—actual stuff needs to happen. Stuff other than scenes of men burning in oil-covered water, ships sinking, and bodies drowning. If you want to argue that the non-stop violent intensity of the film was the point, and that we should feel fully immersed in the war like we're living it ourselves—I present Harry Styles.

I would disagree with her that what is pictured in Dunkirk isn’t “actual stuff.” I’m not sure what she means by “actual stuff,” again, because she doesn’t elaborate, but she does bring up a good point about Harry Styles:

The One Direction band member did a surprisingly impressive job in what turned out to be a pretty major role, but I refuse to believe it's possible for any viewer with even a semblance of pop-culture knowledge not see him and immediately go "OMG, it's Harry Styles."

I think this is an interesting point. I haven’t seen it mentioned by any other critics and it is definetly something I would agree with Bonner about. Seeing Styles in the movie distracted me from the overall tone (the “violent intensity” that Bonner mentioned earlier), and made me focus more on his performance.

Much like Ed Sheeran's cameo in Game of Thrones, having a pop star casually show up in a film will inevitably remove the audience from the narrative and ground them back in reality. Harry Styles is a constant reminder to the viewer that the movie isn't real, while the entire excuse for the film's intense and admittedly-impressive cinematography is to convince the viewer that they're right there in it. You can't have your Harry Styles cake and eat it too.

Yup. 

But my main issue with Dunkirk is that it's so clearly designed for men to man-out over.

Unfortunately, here we veer off the rails and return to Bonner’s “thesis.”

And look, it's not like I need every movie to have "strong female leads." Wonder Woman can probably tide me over for at least a year, and I understand that this war was dominated by brave male soldiers. I get that.

A prevailing theme in this article is language that suggests Bonner needs to justify her criticisms even before she makes them, especially in regards to the “directorial gift to men” argument.

Let’s watch how Bonner begins to make a point about the film, but instead replaces it with misandry:

But the packaging of the film, the general vibe, and the tenor of the people applauding it just screams "men-only"

Ok, how?

—and specifically seems to cater to a certain type of very pretentious man who would love nothing more than to explain to me why I'm wrong about not liking it. If this movie were a dating profile pic, it would be a swole guy at the gym who also goes to Harvard. If it was a drink it would be Stumptown coffee. If it was one of your friends, it would be the one who starts his sentences with "I get what you're saying, but..."

Oh.

I guess congratulations are in order for Nolan managing to unite high-brow male critics and very annoying people on Twitter under a common bromance, but to me, Dunkirk felt like an excuse for men to celebrate maleness—which apparently they don't get to do enough.

Oh.

I might as well ask again- how did the packaging and general vibe promote this idea of “men-only?” How does Dunkirk feel like an excuse for men to celebrate maleness? Why are the men (and only men) who like Dunkirk, douche bros? 

Bonner does not go on to explain.

Fine, great, go forth, but if Nolan's entire purpose is breaking the established war movie mold and doing something different—why not make a movie about women in World War II? Or—because I know that will illicit cries of "ugh, not everything has to be about feminism, ugh!"—how about any other marginalized group?

Because that’s not Nolan’s idea of “breaking the established war movie mold.” In Nolan’s other films, he focuses heavily on non-linear plots, among other things. Bringing that conception of plot to war movies does break the war movie mold. Taking out “men” and slotting in “women or other marginalized groups” to make a war movie does not break the war movie mold.

These stories shouldn't be relegated to indie films and Oscar season. It's up to giant powerhouse directors like Nolan to tell them, which is why Dunkirk feels so basic.

Here is a list of 10 films about women in wartime, by the British Film Institute. Here is Red Tails, a movie about the (all-black) Tuskegee Airmen, released in late January 2012 (after Oscar season), with a budget of 58 million dollars.

I agree there is a shortage of movies about the experiences of women and minorities in all time periods, but to charge Nolan with creating a movie that was “an excuse for men to celebrate maleness” because he didn’t focus on who Bonner wanted him to is ridiculous. 

It's a summer war movie. It'll make you fear for the future and pray that we never fight again. You might get kind of sick. If you're like me, a random man will come up to you after and explain why you're wrong for disliking it. But this war movie isn't special. At the end of the day, it's like all the rest of them.

As a side point, I’m not sure how a random man could come up to you and explain why you’re wrong for disliking it- how would this random man know you disliked it?

Bonner’s conclusion, and article overall, is very weak. It spent some time discussing the movie, but also spent more time leveling ridiculous attacks at people who like the movie, mostly because they are men. 

I’m conflicted, however, because I can somewhat see the reasoning underpinning Bonner’s complaints about “pretentious men.” There has always been a culture of male eliteness in filmmaking, and especially in film criticism, and for a movie like Dunkirk, helmed by one of the most successful directors in the world, it’s not surprising that such a culture would be on display. But none of Bonner’s article seems to be addressing that culture, and Bonner doesn’t handle the subject with any seriousness. 

The article comes off as a way to bait other critics, especially male ones, into a session of “well you’re sexist because you can’t handle my opinion. har har isn’t the male ego so fragile?”

But what do I know? I’m a man, after all.

[njawaidofficial]

How 'Sharknado' Casts Its C-Listers and Nearly Landed Trump as President

http://styleveryday.com/2017/08/03/how-sharknado-casts-its-c-listers-and-nearly-landed-trump-as-president/

How 'Sharknado' Casts Its C-Listers and Nearly Landed Trump as President

Months before he declared himself a candidate, Trump was set to play commander-in-chief in the schlocky Syfy film franchise that has lured everyone from Ann Coulter to Charo for cameos while regular Tara Reid makes a quarter of one male co-star’s pay.

In January 2015, two years before he was sworn in as president, Donald Trump was set to step into the same role in a very different capacity: He had signed on to play the president in 2015’s Sharknado 3: Oh Hell No!

Producers’ first choice to play the leader of the free world in the Washington, D.C.-set disaster film was Sarah Palin, but negotiations with the former Alaska governor and vice presidential nominee had fallen through. That’s when Ian Ziering, the gung-ho star of the schlocky Syfy franchise, had the inspiration to capitalize on the special relationship he’d developed with Trump while taping Celebrity Apprentice (Ziering made it as far as the penultimate task). His reality TV boss would make a good commander in chief, he reasoned. An offer went out. Almost immediately, it elicited a response.

“The Donald said yes,” recalls David Latt, the 51-year-old co-founder of The Asylum, the off-brand assembly line behind the Sharknado series. “He was thrilled to be asked.”

Alas, Trump never did get to fend off a swarm of hammerheads in the Lincoln Bedroom. (More on why later.) But his story is far from unusual — just one of thousands of familiar faces who have been approached to star in a Sharknado, in what has grown over the course of five films into Hollywood’s D-list answer to a federal jobs-growth program.

“It’s the long-lost love child of The Love Boat and Hollywood Squares,” offers Scotty Mullen, the bubbly casting director responsible for wrangling more than 80 celebrity appearances in Sharknado 5: Global Swarming, which airs on Syfy on Aug. 6, with a splashy live viewing party in Las Vegas that night. (In true low-budget form, Mullen does double-duty as the newest installment’s screenwriter.)

It sounds like the recipe for a fatal drinking game, but fret not: You’re not expected to spot them all. Some of these faces are famous only overseas, while others haven’t been seen in decades. But you probably will recognize a few, including Charo as the Queen of England, Fabio as the Pope, Clay Aiken doing a spoof on Q from the James Bond films and Olivia Newton-John in her first screen role in 17 years, playing a scientist who gives star Tara Reid a Grease-style makeover.

If this terrain is familiar to anyone, it’s Charo, a fixture on such stunt-casted 1980s escapist fare as The Love Boat and Fantasy Island. The 66-year-old star was already a Sharknado fan when she was approached to play Her Royal Highness. “I think the Sharknado movies are hysterical,” she says, pronouncing it “shark-NAH-doe.” “Nowadays especially, we need shows that put a smile on your face. Coochie coochie!”

Coochie coochie ka-ching, that is: Sharknado has become an invaluable, if unlikely, crown jewel for Syfy, watched by tens of millions around the world (the globe-hopping new film capitalizes on that international popularity), registering billions of Twitter impressions and popping up in everything from Jeopardy! questions to The New York Times crossword puzzle.

But it began as just another title in a string of B-movies commissioned by Syfy — no-budget thrillers with names like Bats: Human Harvest and Mongolian Death Worm. Its path to the screen was fairly straightforward: An executive at Syfy heard the word “sharknado” and said, “I love it. Let’s make it.”

Asylum, which has cornered the market in this strain of cinematic dreck, was brought on to produce. They paid screenwriter Thunder Levin (his real name — “It was the ’60s,” he says) $6,000 to turn the word “sharknado” into an actual story — which he did, concocting a tale of a freak cyclone that scoops deadly sharks out of the Pacific and flings them at unsuspecting Angelenos.

With Sharknado script in hand, producers approached more than 100 actors to play male lead Fin Shepard, including Kevin Dillon, Dave Foley, Seth Green, John Stamos and Fred Durst. All of them passed — even the Limp Bizkit frontman, after being told he could also direct. The closest anyone got to signing on before Ziering was Back to the Future‘s Crispin Glover.

“I ended up in this 30-minute conversation with him during a location scouting in San Pedro,” recalls madcap director Anthony C. Ferrante, whose genuine enthusiasm for the franchise — he coined the word “sharknado” and has helmed all of the films — calls to mind a slightly more self-aware Ed Wood. “He wanted to play Fin like he had brain damage or something. And in my head I’m like, ‘OK — my job here is to make sure he says yes to the movie.’ ” Glover said no anyway.

But then something exciting happened: A legitimately talented and famous actor — John Heard — signed on as the movie’s comic-relief barfly, George. (Heard died July 21 while undergoing back surgery; there was barely a mention of Sharknado in tributes.) Reid was next to board, playing Fin’s ex-wife, April. This was after Teri Hatcher, Rebecca Romijn, Tiffani Thiessen and several others had already passed. Still, Reid was considered a big get for the project, whose title was proving to be a potent actor-repellent. “Tara had a profile,” says Gerald Webb, an actor and casting director who worked on the first three films (and appeared in the second). “Syfy liked her.”

With production commencing and still no Fin, a frantic Asylum went back to Ziering, who had already passed several times, and raised the offer to $100,000, according to a source with knowledge of the deal. Also a key conciliation: The title was changed to Dark Skies. (Syfy later changed it back to Sharknado, much to the cast’s dismay.) At the urging of his wife, who had just given birth and wanted Ziering to qualify for SAG medical insurance, he finally said yes.

And then a funny thing happened on the way to the DVD bin: Something about the movie’s ludicrous title and its cast’s commitment to the equally ludicrous premise (the film climaxes with Ziering’s ex-surf champ diving into a great white with a chainsaw) made Sharknado an instant cultural phenomenon when it premiered on July 11, 2013.

While ratings were modest — 1.37 million tuned in — the film lit Twitter on fire, with everyone from Patton Oswalt to Mia Farrow (“Omg omg OMG #sharknado”) singing its so-bad-it’s-good praises.

As a result, Sharknado 2: The Second One was a very different animal. “Everybody wanted to be involved,” recalls Webb. “Every C-list and D-list actor on the planet.” With the unlikely franchise’s new cachet, Asylum decided to take a kitchen-sink approach to casting, with Latt instructing Webb “to literally ask every celebrity we could think of. We came up with a list of a thousand people, including many A-listers.” Most passed. James Franco was a nonstarter. (There was hope he might be up for a cameo after his arc as a serial killer on General Hospital.) William Shatner’s agent replied with a single word: “Sharkna-no.”

But there were a few notable turns in the New York-set sequel, including Judd Hirsch and Airplane‘s Robert Hays playing into type as a taxi driver and jet pilot, respectively; rapper Biz Markie as a pizza chef; and Richard Kind as a Mets legend who bats a shark into the scoreboard. In many cases, their lines were written when they showed up on set.

Sharknado crews are nonunion (they staged a strike on the third installment and were replaced), but the films are SAG-AFTRA-compliant. “Everyone makes the same amount — a flat rate — and nobody was making close to their quote,” says Webb of the cameos. Asked if the pay — for anywhere from two to four hours of set time — would cover the cost of a Ford truck, Webb responds, “Absolutely not. Well, maybe a really beat-up one that would be at the junkyard a week later.”

Bigger roles, which require several days of shooting, pay more. Chris Kattan, whose career has seen some hard knocks since Saturday Night Live, was reluctant to take a cameo in Sharknado 5 — but was open to playing the meatier role of the U.K. prime minister, a part he approached “dead seriously. They were into me doing it that way.” He has gotten good feedback from his co-stars. “Ian said, ‘You’re going to be really, really happy with it,’ ” says Kattan. “So it’s not like Mariah Carey in Glitter — where nobody said anything.”

Mullen, 37, was a struggling screenwriter working as a publicist when his spec script Double-D Island (“It’s like The Hunger Games but topless”) got him noticed by Asylum, which first put him to work writing jokes for Kelly Ripa on Sharknado 2. “They said, ‘We forgot to write something for her,’ ” he recalls of the fateful phone call. “I said, ‘How soon do you need something?’ They said, ‘Well, we’re lighting her now.’ “

But it’s Ann Coulter whom Mullen credits with his big break. Asylum wanted the conservative firebrand to play the vice president in Sharknado 3, but was having no luck through her agent. Mullen suggested the company go through her publicist — “Sharknado‘s more of a publicity opportunity than a thespian exercise” — and Coulter “jumped at the chance. So then they asked me if I was interested in doing more of this.” Asylum agreed to pay Mullen a per-cameo bonus.

He sees his role as very different from that of most casting directors — people whose calls, typically, are eagerly answered by agents and managers. Instead, Mullen says, “you’re always selling them on the publicity value. An agent won’t care because they just want the money, and there is none. But if you pitch it to the publicist, they see all the value to be gotten out of it. You’re here to ride the hell out of that crazy publicity train.”

If it’s really true that there’s “no such thing as bad publicity,” Sharknado is determined to test those boundaries. Some of the most reviled figures in pop culture have popped up as chum. In Sharknado 2 alone, there was Andy Dick (who “was having a tough day that day,” says Webb — Ziering had to hold up cue cards with Dick’s lines on them), Perez Hilton (swallowed whole on a subway platform) and Jared Fogle (“You should really be eating fresh, too,” says Subway’s then pitchman, currently serving 15 years in a federal prison for child porn possession and having sex with minors). Among the few stars Asylum has rejected: porn legend Ron Jeremy, who once stopped by the offices to pitch himself.

Sharknado 3 features a cameo by Anthony Weiner, the disgraced ex-congressman who in May pleaded guilty to sexting with a 15-year-old girl. “I guess I am on that C- to D-level cusp of celebrity that they were looking for,” Weiner told THR in 2015. “But I wouldn’t have conceived of doing it if I were going to play myself.” In fact, a sexting-scandal spoof was exactly what the producers wanted; when Weiner refused, he was enlisted to play a dull NASA administrator instead. Most of his performance was edited out.

For Sharknado 5, everything is bigger, starting with the budget ($3 million, double the cost of the original) and star salaries — Ziering now makes $500,000 per picture. Asylum manages to limit costs when it comes to Reid’s paycheck — she makes about a quarter of what her male co-star earns on each installment. She protested the disparity during the filming of Sharknado 3. Syfy later asked fans whether or not to kill off her character — but the network flatly denies that the two incidents are related. (Fans voted to let her live.) “I think Sharknado cares more about their ‘extra of the day’ than they do about their own cast,” Reid says, clearly weary of the franchise. “You work at something for five years and you don’t get treated as well as someone who shows up for a single day?”

She may be on to something, as the piled-on cameos haven’t added up to higher ratings for the franchise, which peaked at 3.87 million viewers for 2014’s Sharknado 2 before dropping to 2.77 million viewers for 2016’s Sharknado 4. The newest installment — which introduces the concept of wormholes to the, uh, Sharknado mythology — shot on location in London, Tokyo, Rome, Sydney, New York, Los Angeles and Sofia, Bulgaria. Some cameo players were flown to those far-flung places (Greg Louganis jetted off to Sofia to play an art thief), while others (Fabio, Poison’s Bret Michaels — also a Celebrity Apprentice alum) shot a few close-ups at home in L.A., with their stunt doubles in rocker wigs doing the heavy lifting overseas.

Lee Mountjoy, a London-based casting director, was brought on to fill out the ranks and went about enlisting local talent Katie Price (the “Kim Kardashian of the U.K.”) and diving champion Tom Daley — Mountjoy randomly “bumped into him in a train station in London. I said, ‘Do you know Sharknado?’ And he said, ‘Oh, my God, definitely!’ “

Similarly, the Asylum guys ran into George R.R. Martin at a Comic-Con event in 2014, whereupon the Game of Thrones author confessed to being a Sharknado superfan. “I own a theater in New Mexico, and they wouldn’t let me play it,” bemoaned Martin. The producers pulled some strings, and Martin was able to screen the original movie at his theater. (He later showed up in Sharknado 3.)

“We look for cameos from all areas of pop culture to appeal to every fan watching the movie,” says Josh Van Houdt, Syfy’s vp original co-productions. “Whether we’re casting a professional athlete, reality star, actor, musician or politician, our goal is to include a wide variety of stars for viewers to either get excited about or, on the flip side, witness getting eaten by a shark in a spectacular fashion.”

And so it might have been for our 45th president. “We got pretty far,” says Webb of the Trump negotiations. “It was serious talks.” A contract was drawn up and sent to Trump attorney Michael D. Cohen — the same attorney currently under FBI investigation in connection with the Russia inquiry.

But enthusiasm turned into weeks of silence from the Trump camp. Eventually, a reason for the stalling emerged. “Donald’s thinking about making a legitimate run for the presidency, so we’ll get back to you,” Latt recalls Cohen saying. “This might not be the best time.” With the production clock ticking, Asylum pulled the trigger on a backup plan, offering the role to Mark Cuban — a modest casting coup that Syfy trumpeted with a press release.

“Then we immediately heard from Trump’s lawyer,” recalls Latt. “He basically said, ‘How dare you? Donald wanted to do this. We’re going to sue you! We’re going to shut the entire show down!’ ” Contacted by THR, Cohen acknowledges a dinner with Ziering to discuss casting Trump but says he has no recollection of the angry correspondence.

Webb, now at his own production company, is philosophical about the dustup. “I took it personally, but I get it now,” he says. “That was my moment of doing business with Donald Trump. And that’s Sharknado.”

This story first appeared in the Aug. 2 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. To receive the magazine, click here to subscribe.