It's hard out there for a studio exec. One day, you're innocently blowing your nose into the pages of unmade scripts stained with the hopes and dreams of anonymous writers, and screaming at your assistant to just please get someone to make you a fat-free Big Mac; the next, you're rudely confronted with the fact that the movie you greenlit about a murderous barber making mincemeat of his clients actually focuses on a murderous barber making mincemeat of his clients: