Rob Reiner was jolted awake. Just minutes ago, he could have sworn he was holding his wife and sleeping soundly. Now, he could barely move.

What was wrong with his feet?

“Michele!” Reiner calls out for his wife. Silence. He glances around the room he is somehow trapped in. A small bed. Trinkets on shelves. A snowstorm outside. Where is he?

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and none other than Annie Wilkes from Misery greets him, with her pig oinking behind her.

Reiner stares in disbelief. He was now trapped inside one of his own movies.

“Well, I see the patient is awake!” says Annie. “How are we feeling?”

“Get me out of here. I directed this movie. I know what happens!”

“Oh, don’t be such a fussy widget,” says Annie. “We’re just getting to know each other! I’m your number-one fan! I’ve seen every one of your movies like 100 times.”

Reiner shifts uncomfortably in his bed. “What do you want with me?”

“I’m the Ghost of Things to Come! Or the Ghost of Christmas future, I get confused.”

“What’s wrong with my legs?”

“It’s called hobbling,” she says.

“Don’t worry, it won’t last long. Just long enough for me to explain how I happened to find myself in Washington DC on January 6th, 2021.”

“No, come on, Annie Wilkes, is MAGA?”

“Well, that’s the funny thing. I didn’t used to be. You see, I used to be Hillary Clinton’s number one fan too, bet you could never guess that. And Joe Biden’s. But the Summer of 2020 changed me. Should I hit your feet again just for fun?”

“NOOOO,” Reiner screams.

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