Crossover with Stephen King's "Entertainment Weekly" column

Listen up, cats and kittens: your Uncle Stevie has just seen a mind-blowing new theater production in New York – my greatest pop culture discovery since I uncovered the hot new band Wilco for y’all earlier this year.

Now all you loyal readers out there may be wondering whether the ticket price is worth the dough you gotta sling down. My answer is you bet your sweet round fanny. If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’.

So here’s the skinny, Daddy-o. You get set loose in the McKittrick Hotel (and babyluv, if that hotel ain’t the scariest place to rest your weary head since Stanley Kubrick’s blasphemous takedown of my novel “The Shining” then you can put ol’ Uncle Stevie out to pasture right now!) with nothing but a mask and some cryptic words to guide you. From there you’re on your own.

Now, your Uncle Stevie doesn't want to ruin the surprises that lay in store for all you lucky ducks who manage to snag some tickets, so I’ll just leave you with a quote that my friend Jake said to me after viewing this theatrical wonder on my recommendation. “Stevie,” he told me, “that was the best thing I ever seen in my life. From now on, unless I see some chick shit a baby outta her ass, I ain’t getting off my couch!”

Amen to that, bro.