"Taxi," John Smith yelled from the top of his lungs. The taxi in the near distance exploded into a massive gust of flames. John flinched as the car pieces scatter on the busy road around him.
"Okay," he thinks, "I'll... just... take the ..."
A bus takes a sharp left into the mall next to him before he can finish his thought. The Rock jumps out of the speeding vehicle as it shatters into the building, causing masses of people to run out the building as the bus explodes.
John takes a moment to think about what had just happened. "What does this remind me of?" he thinks. "Never-mind, John, you'll get used to New York soon enough!"
Faced with his newly found acceptance of his first New York experience he happily trots down the main street with a gleaming smile on his content face. In his hands he holds the envelope that contains the letter of submission to the New York College of Arts. It was his first day in the USA since he left from his British small-town. It was all new to him, but something about the whole thing just didn't stop reminding him of a certain series of films. Or so he thought.
Out of nowhere a helicopter falls from the sky, dropping on the pavement across the street and causing another explosion.
"It's okay, you're in the city now," John says to himself as pearls of sweat draw their many lines down his face. "Maybe the first bite off the Big Apple is a bit of a shocker to all newbies."
He walks up to a mailbox at the end of the avenue, then takes a deep breath as he gives the envelope in his hand another examining look.
"It's all right, they're gonna accept you," he thinks.
John opens the mailbox's slit and drops the letter into it. Suddenly the red mailbox's metal case starts extending and growing, shifting in shape as various metal parts rearrange until it has completely morphed and stands before him as a fully armed battle robot.
"All right," trembling John says, walking away from what he just saw. "Yeah, I'll just send them an e-mail."
A gang of street thugs appear behind the corner by the end of the avenue. "Oh, look at that," says one of them in pleasant surprise. John tries walking around them but they block his way.
"What'cha got with you boy?" the apparent leader of the thugs asks.
"Uh, I don't think I have anything with me, mate," John replies.
The thugs grab John by his collar and push him up against the wall. Their apparent leader leans his head in toward John and starts smelling him. "You smell like money, boy. Ten bucks says I'll find a good lot if I cut yo ass up."
John closes his eyes and turns his head away in fear. Suddenly the street gang turns their attention away from John as a police car playing N.W.A. on full volume stops next to them. The gang leader grinds his jaw and rolls his eyes as he puts down John and turns his angry face towards the police officers that just jump out the car.
"I'm the bad cop," says one of the two. "And I am the bad cop!" the other one adds whilst heavily nodding his head.
They look at each other. "That was my line, I thought we agreed on this?!"
"I am way badder than you!"
"No, worse, you are worse!"
The thugs, who suddenly feel played with, draw their knives as they approach the arguing police couple. One of the two officers punches an oncoming thug to the ground as the other officer disarms another attacker and stabs him with his own knife.
"See who's badder?" he says grimacing with comically wide opened eyes. "Me, mothafucka, me!"
John slowly tries to step away from the ruckus. The other police officer pulls his gun and shoots down the gang leader. The remaining two gang members grab John.
"You psycho stay the fuck away from us, you got it!?" they anxious thugs say.
"Lads!" John yells.
Everyone hushes and looks at him.
"Doesn't this all kind of remind you of a ...I don't know, Michael Bay movie, or is it just me?"
The gang and the officers shake their heads and return to their aggressive stances.
"I got this! I got this!" one of the two police officers says aloud when suddenly a powerful force rips John away from the thugs tight grip.
John feels the sharp headwind breezing against his face. He opens his eyes and turns back around, seeing the thugs bleeding out on the floor while the two officers are still arguing. He looks down and notices the battle-bot from a moment ago is holding him while its running off to - somewhere?
"I... Well, bloody hell!" John says. He takes a deep breath.
"You're in New York now, John, you can do this. Be a New Yorker for fuck's sake," he says to himself.
"Ey!" John shouts to the robot that in turn looks up to him, "to the New York College of Arts!"
The robot nods its head, "beep boob, I know, that's where we're headed to anyways!"
The robot speeds up, roller blades appear at the bottom of its feet as its legs extend to even bigger heights. People don't seem to mind seeing a huge robot roller skating across the heavy-traffic streets of New York.
A few moments later John flies off the huge robots arms and lands on the lawn of the big NY College campus. He looks back but no sign of a robot left, just an ordinary mailbox winking at him. "Whatever," John thinks.
He lifts his head from his crouching position on the ground as his eyes trace up on the never-ending smooth legs of what was easily the most attractive female he had ever seen.
"I'm your new girlfriend," she says. "Well not yet, duh, but once you save the planet."
John stares up in awe as he scratches his head.
"And I'm your new professor," a voice sounds from behind him. John gets up and turns around.
"We have awaited you, John," says the Professor, "let's start our classes right away!"
"Great!" John says euphorically. "What's on the schedule?"
The professor puts his arm around John's shoulders. "Aliens!" he says as the buildings behind them light up in a breathtaking next-level CGI explosion.