A brown-skinned man and a blond caucasian woman sat at the coffee shop, talking about inane little things.

“You gonna see the movie?” asked Clara as she popped her gum.

“What movie?” wondered Roger, putting his thumbs together.

“The one Hollywood is calling it’s magnum opus. A bunch of critics have been calling it a new classic among Star Wars, Jurassic Park, know, the classics,” Clara said, the chewing giving a slight disortment to her Boston dialect. “Apparently they’re not using CGI for a single thing in this movie too… all practical effects.”

“Huh. Who’s in it?” asked Roger.

“Chris Pratt, Scarlett Johansson, Harrison Ford, Michael J. Fox, Christopher Lloyd, Daniel Craig, Hannibal Buress, Mark Hamill, Louis C.K, hell, I think all the background characters are being played by people like Jimmy Kimmel.” Clara said.

“What’s it called?” Roger asked.

“It doesn’t have a name. They’re gonna reveal it when you go in the theater.” Clara shrugged.

“How are you supposed to buy tickets then?” Roger asked, scratching his head.

“They’ll know what you’re talking about. You just tell them you wanna see the movie and they’ll go ‘The movie?’ and you give them a quick sheepish nod and they type a couple things down and then ask you for money. I got tickets already for me and my girlfriend.” Clara said, pulling out two red tickets emblazoned with “The Movie”.

“You’re pulling my leg right? No bull?” asked Roger.

“No bull.” She sheepishly grinned.

“See now I don’t believe you,” Roger said, grabbing his phone from his grey hoodie pocket. “The movie?” he asked out loud, as Siri listened and returned results. “Guess you weren’t lying.”

“See you there then?” Clara asked.

“Yeah…” Roger said, staring at the phone.

The phone rang. Roger’s tide blue eyes squinted in the darkness, his eyes attempting to shut after finding the rectangular window of light. He outstretched his left hand and grabbed the phone.

“Harris?” he asked himself looking at Harris’ mug on his phone. Swiping up, he put the phone to his ear. “Hello, it’s three am in the morning, what do you want?”

“Dude, they put up the trailer!” shouted Harris over the phone.

“The trailer for what?” groggily asked Roger as his right hand helped him back into his bed..

“The movie!” Harris shouted again. “Didn’t Clara tell you about it?”

“The movie? Oh that movie. I guess I’ll watch it in the morning.” Roger said, heading to hang up the phone.

“It’s pretty good man… Samuel L. Jackson plays a giraffe with tentacles on his back!” Harris excitedly told his friend. “Bill Murray plays a ghostly time lord! And you’ll never believe what Chris Evans plays!”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. I’m going back to sleep.” said Roger, already dozing off as the phone slid out of his hand, hung up.

“Can you believe it’s tomorrow?” asked Clara, shaking her girlfriend Samantha. Both were very clearly excited for this film they didn’t even know that much about. Roger couldn’t seem to escape the hype. The mailman told him all about it, the tagger spray painting the wall gave his theories about it, and he saw a Target truck unload merchandise for it.

“I really can’t.” said Roger, his fingernails tapping the table. The waitress came over with his coffee.

“Hey, are you gonna see that movie Rach’?” asked Samantha. The waitress nodded, much to Roger’s surprise. The waitress usually pretended they didn’t exist to her after the accident that made her lose her eye that was mostly Clara’s fault.

“What about you, Roger?” asked Clara, shivering with visions of a movie she never saw.

“Maybe not opening day… there’s no way a movie like that could ever live up to my expectations, even if Chris Evans plays a little asian girl with an atomic bomb in her head and Scarlett Johansson has a giant red muscle arm that she punches zombie terrorists with.” Roger said.

“Oh come on! Heck, I’ll even buy you tickets. What are you doing anyway that’s so important tomorrow? It’s probably nothing.” Clara said quickly, needing to sell her friend on this movie she had bought into with it’s self-proclaimed importance.

“Eh… alright..” Roger said. “I’m keeping my expectations low though.” He had learned his lesson with Star Wars Episode I.

The big day came and the movie launched across the globe at the same time, same day, a first for any piece of cinema. All around the world theaters opened at the same time, with the excited masses unable to wait to get into what was being called “The Second Coming” by news media everywhere.

Roger stood with Harris, Clara and Samantha as the three fanatically screamed and danced. Roger wasn’t feeling it though.

Matt Damon, their celebrity guest for their matinee, cut the red tape and a swarm of people went inside the movie theater, looking for open seats in any of the screening rooms, which had all been cleared aside for this movie. Roger was dragged by Harris in the tenth one, barely fitting between Harris and Clara as they settled into their seats. Previews played but Roger almost had no idea what was going on in any of them, as the room was abuzz with so much chatter about this cinematic event, talking about Jodie Foster as a panther snake hybrid that ate birds to power her mechanical wings and more imagery of a movie they had never seen.

The movie finally began as the lights dimmed. The corporate animations of the studio logos paraded and finally the screen went black. The room was dead quiet, shaking in anticipation. The screen slowly revealed white words written in a font that had very obviously been carefully selected by a council of people as Morgan Freeman’s voice read them out loud:

“Dear Audience,

The movie you were meant to see does not exist. All footage of it, all of it that exists, was made for the trailer and all of the actors involved did this for free. The proceeds of tickets, merchandise, and anything to do this fake film went to various charities. The impact of this event will have rippling effects that are negative to the entertainment industry but positive to the world, with funding going to the things that need it most. We will inform people where that money went over the next couple weeks, months, and years. In a way, this is in fact, Hollywood’s magnum opus, but it is not a film. It is a event.

Thank you,

The actors, the directors, and the crew.”

The theater was dead silent except for one sound that echoed in the room amongst the shock. Roger’s clapping.