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R.I.P.

Tom Cruise Holy crap, I can't believe how popular the Celebrity Death Poll has become. The word has really gotten around in a big way, here's how big I'm talking. The other day, I received a phone call from the head of Virgin Records, Sir Richard Branson. He said Xenu and I have a proposition for you... It seems as if Richard's recent "space venture" is actually just a cover for his numerous space trips as of late. Apparently, Sir Branson has become quite close to Lord Xenu over the past couple of years. Xenu is of course, the divine power and ruling entity over the Scientology cult here on Earth. Both Branson and Xenu are huge fans of money, and interstellar travel, so they've basically become best friends. It appears that Sir Richard has also gotten Lord Xenu familiar with Earth's television programming via high-tech ultra satellite systems. It turns out that Xenu is a huge fan of TMZ and E! Entertainment, which leads us to the next chapter in CDP: Underground...Tom Cruise. Xenu has grown to despise Tom Cruise and the image he's cast on Scientology. If it's one thing Xenu can't stand, it's humiliation, and Cruise is causing nothing but. Branson told Xenu about my celebrity disposal program, and immediately got the go-ahead. Lord Xenu put together a fleet of aliens and gave the orders to snatch Mr. Cruise and bring him back to the fortress. Upon arrival, Tom was sedated and escorted onto an operating table. He was strapped in and stripped down as a team of alien surgeons shuffled into the room and began dissecting him. I immediately noticed that Tom didn't have any genitalia. I looked towards Xenu and asked "Well, then who's baby Suri's dad?" Xenu gave me a sly grin and winked. Thanks to the help of two powerful intergalactic juggernauts, Sir Richard Branson and Lord Xenu (you little hound dog). This was literally an out-of-this-world experience, and very helpful to both humans and aliens alike.

Michael Vick Dick Starr's Celebrity Death Poll is back once again and without warning. This is #2 in the super secret CDP: Underground series. Due to recent media coverage and rising popularity of the Death Poll, the NFL has decided to call upon the services of a true professional in "celebrity disposal"...ME!! The Celeb in question...dog fighting dipshit Michael Vick. The idea that NBC and the NFL pitched to me was very fitting for somebody like Vick, involving killer Pit Bulls and a football field. First thing's first, I need somebody that knows how to handle killer Pitts, so I called in the "alpha dog" Cesar Millan. Cesar is better known as "The Dog Whisperer", and truly has a unique bond with dogs of all kinds. At first, the world renowned trainer was hesitant about assisting us in this venture, but, after sending him some images of the dogs Vick abused and murdered...it became more justifiable. With NBC securing a private football field, and the NFL sending Vick there to do a "charity dog walk", it's game time. Michael Vick stood in the middle of the field with a small camera crew positioned near him. Cesar showed up with the Pitts and slowly approached Vick. Cesar began mentally communicating with the dogs, getting them angry and focused, sealing the fate of our football fuck-up. Michael started to run in the opposite direction when he realized what was happening. Just then, Cesar released the riled up dogs from their harnesses allowing them to tear after Vick. It took only seconds for them to catch up and bring him down. The following seconds were pretty graphic, and excessively bloody, but when the little Pitt Bull started pissing on Vick's severed head...we all had a good laugh. Thanks to the NFL, NBC, and Cesar Millan for making this one of the most rewarding and perhaps sickest Celebrity Death Poll yet! Michael Vick gets it "doggystyle".

Rosie O'Donnell and Donald Trump Back once again, and this time it comes without warning! Two of the top television studios in the country noticed the rising popularity in my Celebrity Death Polls and decided to approach me with an idea. They had a mini-screenplay for a death involving three obnoxious celebrities; Rosie O'Donnell, Donald Trump, and Miss USA Tara Conner. Although only studio execs voted for this CDP, it was sure to please the anti-fans. Plot Synopsis: Rosie O'Donnell is under the impression that she'll be beating up a Tara Conner look-a-like for charity. Miss USA Tara Conner is told she'll be fighting a Rosie O'Donnell look-a-like for charity as well. Donald was invited to be Tara's "Special Enforcer" for the event. The three combatants will enter a padded room from opposite sides and it won't be long before they realize the startling truth! Well, it pretty much went down just like you'd expect...First, Tara Conner said "Eew, it looks just like her." Then, Rosie and Donald quickly realized what was going on. Donald threw Miss USA at Rosie and began pounding on the door to be let out. By the time the Don turned around, Rosie had devoured most of the pageant queen, leaving only the lower piece of her leg to use as a weapon. Fortunately, Mr. Trump is never without his trusty golden dagger at his side. Rosie and Donald duked it out for several seconds before they were both winded and had to rest. While laying on the floor, they gnashed and clawed at each other with all they had. Rosie speared the severed limb through Trump's cheek as he pierced the dagger through a major artery in her throat. O'Donnell got desperate and went straight for Donald's heart. She punched it out through the back of his torso revealing the shocking finale...snakes! Donald Trump's heart has snakes!! I think it's safe to say, the real winner hear, is everybody that isn't.

Gene Simmons Howdy gang!! Welcome to another (and quite possibly the nastiest) edition of Dick Starr's Celebrity Death Poll. This time around, you've aimed your sights at Kiss frontman and greasy sleazeball de'jour...Gene Simmons. I couldn't be more excited. Today I've enlisted in the help of a long time friend and Madam to the stars, Heidi Fleiss to provide me with the prober bait for our target. Heidi was more than happy to lend me the right lady for such a special occasion. She immediately brought out a feisty blond bombshell named Mann-Ita that was all riled up and ready to go. Heidi placed the phone call to Gene telling him that he would be her guest of honor at the brothel that evening. He'll be here in 30mins. The plan was to convince him to let Mann-Ita tie him up and strip him down. Once that was taken care of, she'd be able to set up the tri pod and camera to get a good shot of the kill. This plan seemed like a stretch, but ended up being surprisingly easy. Gene arrived and immediately demanded to be stripped naked and tied up in the bedroom. He then insisted that Mann-Ita set up the video camera that he brought with him to record the entire thing...wow. As soon as Mann-Ita got on top of Mr. Simmons, he stuck out his lengthy tongue to lick her hand. Mann Ita quickly clinched her hand into a fist around his pulsating mouth muscle and yanked. She pulled and tugged until fibers tore and blood poured. Eventually, this got really gruesome. Guts and bile started making their way out of his body and that's when I stopped the tape. It looks like Mann Ita has a brand new kill to add to her resume, and a big one at that. Gene had always tried capitalizing on that tongue of his, and now all it got him was a long and agonizing trip to the morgue. Thanks to Heidi Fleiss for her assistance and to all of you for voting.

Janice, Miss Jay, and Tyra These last few months have been very busy for me, so you can imagine my surprise when I signed on to see that Top Model had beaten American Idol in Celebrity Death Poll X…by a landslide. This was definitely the biggest Death Poll to date, and that is why I must pull out the big guns. In order to set up this massive execution, I’d have to call upon some help from the master of celebrities and death; Robert Rhine. The Grim Creeper made a few phone calls, sent a couple of emails, and within days had a photo shoot set up involving America’s Next Top Model. Rhine told the crew that this would be done as an “Urban” themed shoot (on location) in a city ally. Once the cameras were ready to roll, we had the judges take their seats. First in was Miss Jay…he/she/it fell somewhere in the middle while Tyra Banks was air lifted by helicopter to her seat on the right. Last but not least, was Janice Dickinson. Until that moment, I wasn’t aware that she had actually died almost a decade ago. Her team of assistants wheeled in a small trunk and opened it. A group of puppeteers then took out the shriveled plasticized corpse of Janice on strings, and got set up on the roof. We then dismissed the crew from their duties. At this point in time, Tyra really wanted to be focused on, so we quickly started rolling. Before Tyra could even say “headshot”, she got one…straight to the melon with a knife. The dolly cam then made a brisk sweep from left to right with a semi-automatic attached to it. We waited 15 mins for Tyra’s mouth to stop moving before making our getaway. Although these three individuals were surely dead inside, it feels really good to make it official. I have a feeling that bloody splatter can be the next big fashion trend. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough time to digitally remove the strings from Janice in this pic. Thanks to Robert Rhine and the crew of Top Model for making “Celebrity Death Poll X” fast and easy…just like the models.

Andy Dick Yesterday morning, while smoking a cigarette on my porch, I was greeted by a fat carrier pigeon. Who in the hell still sends messages with carrier pigeons? Apparently my buddy, actor/comedian Jon Lovitz does. He states in the note that this is the safest way to get a hold of me without being traced back to him. Either way, he reminds me that my newest Death Poll had finished with Andy Dick as the victor. Wow, I guess that means the poll must’ve ended about a week or so ago. I knew we had to pull this one off quickly considering the 7 day time limit. *If the winning celebrity isn’t executed within a week of being chosen…their lives are spared.* Here at DickStarr.net, we can’t have any of that nonsense. I quickly put the word out, and in no time, received an anonymous call to the blood red Starr Phone. It seems that Andy Dick is heading to a billiards hall in a small college town nearby. When I got to the bar, a small crowd had already gathered because it appears that an “unknown assailant” attacked Mr. Dick in the parking lot outside. I walked in through the door and made my way towards the bar. Andy was drinking a dirty martini and doing lines of coke while slumped over on a barstool. Just as I got within range, a short and chubby man dressed in a ninja suit ran out from the men’s room and right up behind the strung-out, has-been. In a swift and fluid motion, the mystery man swooped a line of chicken wire around Dick’s neck and popped his head off like a cork. Blood painted the ceiling as the skinny head of Andy Dick flopped onto the bar in front of him. As quickly as the “ninja” had appeared, he was gone. The crowd gasped and applause broke out among the patrons. Some people even had their cell phones up snapping pictures and getting video. Wow, this edition of the Celebrity Death Poll really shaped up nicely. In closing, I’d just like to say, “Andy, from one Dick to another, SUCK IT!!”

Carlos Mencia The other afternoon, I awoke to a loud knock at my door. When I looked through the peephole, I saw Joe Rogan grinning from ear to ear. This could mean 1 of only 2 things…either he’s come to return my VHS copy of Curly Sue, or Carlos Mencia had won the latest “Celebrity Death Poll”. When I opened the door, he immediately grabbed me and said “C’mon, we’ve gotta go!” As we sped through the city, Joe explains that not only did Carlos win the poll, he was also performing at the Palace Theatre downtown RIGHT NOW!! Joe says he’s got the whole thing planned out. We pull up out front, he hands me my ticket saying “Go get seated, and enjoy the show.” I made my way to the 2nd row while Carlos was onstage doing a classic bit by George Lopez. As members of the crowd began to boo and taunt the faux Hispanic comic imposter, Joe Rogan walked onto the stage. The crowd began cheering and demanding blood. Joe wasted no time and began pummeling the fat unfunny bastard into submission. Once subdued, Rogan hogtied Mencia and pulled Carlos’ pants down. As Joe went to pick up the fallen microphone stand, Carlos managed to free an arm. Too bad it didn’t do him any good. By this time, Bill Cosby and George Lopez had joined Joe onstage and began sawing off Menstealia’s freehand at the wrist. Those of us in the first couple of rows got sprayed like we were at a Gallagher show. As Carlos was struggling to keep his composure, Mr. Rogan applied a UFC style chokehold and shoved the entire microphone stand up Mencia’s ass and right out of his mouth. WOW!! The crowd was roaring, cameras were flashing and the stage was alive with star power. However, Cosby and Lopez didn’t want to be credited or even associated with this savagery, so they dipped out pretty quickly. Joe, on the other hand, couldn’t have been happier. The stage was a bloody mess and for the first time ever, a Carlos Mencia show ended with a standing ovation. “Dee-dee-dee!”

Hulk Hogan Dick Starr here, back once again to wreak havoc on pop culture’s festering hemorrhoids. This afternoon, I received an e-mail from my long time hunting buddy, and rock n’ roll legend Ted Nugent. He asked if I had any plans on how I was going to take out Hulk Hogan now that the Hulkster had been declared the victor of my most recent “Celebrity Death Poll”. Ted said he was very interested in adding the iconic has-been’s skin to his massive collection of pelts and heads. He offered to take me on an all expense paid “Nugent style” safari to capture our Hulka-trophy. I couldn’t refuse. After being flown in to meet up with Ted, we hopped into his private helicopter and headed for the jungle of Miami. On the ride over we put on our camouflage make up, rubber overalls, and bug repellant. Once we landed, he grabbed the biggest arrows he could find and a bow to match ‘em. I asked why we weren’t using an elephant gun or something, and he replied “Because, we don’t want to ruin such a wonderful pelt.” This was gonna be fun. We made it through the marshy terrains, past the alligators, and up to the Hulka-mansion. Neither of us knew when the elusive Hulkster would come outside into the Florida sun, but judging by the purple-ish orange sheen of his leathery skin, it couldn’t be too long. We were in luck. The Hogan Knows Best camera crew was eating lunch, and Mr. Hogan was sunning in the back by the pool. Ted said “This is going to be easier than shooting dogs in a barrel.” His left arm hoisted the bow upward as his other arm began to pull the arrow back. Ted releases it with such fury that the arrow goes completely through both 4 inch thick sides of Hulk Hogan’s skull before stopping. I couldn’t believe how quickly it was all over with. Somebody obviously hasn’t been “sayin’ their prayers or eating their vitamins.” Twenty minutes later, we were back at the copter with our payload. Ted flew me home and said he’d email me the pictures once he finished treating the Hulka-leather and mounting the Hulka-head. Ted Nugent is a madman; these pics were in my e-mail the next morning. Whatcha Gonna Do Brother? Whatcha gonna do, when Hulkamania is officially thru?!

Jessica & Ashlee Simpson I received an e-mail from my buddy Nick Lachey the other day, reminding me that the “Celebrity ‘Sibling’ Death Poll” was about to end. Wow, I hadn’t heard from Mr. Lachey since he was in 98 degrees. I suddenly realized why Nick had personally contacted me…the Simpson girls must’ve won. Sure enough, these dismal divas were voted as the next pair of celebs to have the proverbial bucket kicked for them. Nick and his brother Drew picked me up the following day in a sleek stretched Hummer. We had invited the girls to out for lunch and told them to meet us at the docks by the old warehouse. Apparently, that wasn’t a strange request considering the lengths they go through to avoid paparazzi on a daily basis. However, in this case, the five of us wouldn’t be carpooling to a five star restaurant or private club…the warehouse was as far as we were going. The Lachey brothers had made several MySpace posts and e-mails to their wealthy friends/businessmen telling them to meet us at the rundown facility for a night of brutality. Since I don’t believe in violence against women, we opted to lock both Jessica and Ashlee in a big crate and just let them kill each other. We explained to the ladies that after the fight, the remaining sister would be pardoned and given a new reality show on VH1. The soulless wenches took no convincing, as they’d been waiting a long time for a moment like this. Once the bets were placed, we were ready to rumble. The girls tore clothes and flesh. They bit skin, eye gouged, drew blood, kicked, and scratched each other in classic “catfight” style. The hair pulling lead to bone breaking, and soon enough, they were pulling out one another’s organs. The cage door broke off and limbs went flying out into the crowd. In true one-ups-manship form, the siblings were equally destroyed, and slowly bled out while glaring across the box at each other. It was a draw!! Nick, Drew and I were the only spectators walking away with any cash, and both Jessica and Ashlee Simpson were dead. Hoorah!

Ashton and Demi: Today, I received a message on my flashing red Starr Phone. I had a hunch who it'd be, but I wasn't certain. The voice on the phone said to meet at the old amusement park, past the hardware store. My limo pulled up front near the admission booth. It's broad daylight, and when I get inside, E! Entertainment is having some sort of red carpet walk. Flashes are going off and camera crews were scattered throughout the people. Paparazzi are snapping shot after shot of the couple in front of me. It was Brad and Angelina. Those two lucked out this time, but not by much. Not surprisingly they've come to see the "main event", however, it is surprising to see they brought the kids. Just as I make my way past the cameras, I hear "Hey, Dick!" I spin around to see none other than Bruce Willis himself. "You got my message, good." Him and I go way back. We slap hands, hug, and get to a place where we can talk. He throws his arm around me and tells me everything. About how Flocks studios is funding the whole thing as promotion for "Live Free or Die Hard". Bruce goes on to say that he's rigged up something really special along the roller coaster behind us. Says he stopped by the hardware store on his way. He promises that Ashton and Demi will completely lose their heads over this ride. Apparently Ashton thinks he's "Punking" Demi, but Demi thinks she's "Punking" Ashton...it turns out BRUCE is "Punking" the both of them. The cameras weren't actually able to show the footage of their demise to the public, but Bruce and I snagged a snapshot from the "coaster cam". Nice timing and clarity on those things. I asked Bruce why they both had black eyes and busted lips...and he said "Because I throw a mean right hook junior."

Rush Limbaugh: So after alerting the press that I was ending the current Celebrity Death Poll immediately, we were able to round up old Mr. Limburger...I mean Limbaugh. This time around we headed back to my hometown of Honolulu Hawaii and had ourselves a luau. This was a starr studded event too. Micheal J. Fox was on hand and happily volunteered to pin sliced pineapples and cherries to the fatback side of Rush for the slanderous remarks made about his condition. While presidential candidate Barack Obama himself opted to shove a pineapple up Limbaugh's fat pimpled ass in return for Rush calling him "Half-Rican American". Well, I had to contribute somehow...so I just stole his bottles of prescription pain killers and distributed them to everybody at the party. We then relaxed to the soft strumming of a ukulele and hula dancing as an open pit barbecue smoked the flesh of an overrated, draft dodging, loudmouthed hypocrite; Rush Limbaugh.

O.J. Simpson: In my most recent sit down interview, I got to chat with O.J. Simpson himself. My buddy Eli Roth had already detained him and had a little bit of Hostel style fun before I even got there. It looked as though Eli blow torched and exposed O.J.'s eyeball and smashed his knees in with a ball peen hammer. Needless to say, "Juice" wasn't really talking much, but his mouth had also been busted up a bit...so I was patient.  We asked if he could change the title of his controversial book from "If I Did It" to "HOW I Did It".  But, after almost an hour of listening to him mumble on and on about how "he was a football legend" and "appeared in multiple Naked Gun movies" then begging for us to let him go, I finally decided to end our little session. I handed Eli a meat hook and whispered in his ear. He then slashed the bloated belly of Mr. Simpson to finally expose him for the fraud that he is. Just as we suspected, O.J. was full of shit...A LOT of shit. We let him bleed out as we quickly made our exit.

Kevin Federline: This is the winning celeb...or losing, depending on how you look at it. Kevin Federline was voted as the next celebrity to die!!! I figured since he's been getting himself involved in pro-wrestling recently, what better place to execute K-Fed than on live Pay Per View in the ring? So I decided to then contact Hell and ask my buddy to hook me up with something small, gross, and evil. Something capable of tearing a man to shreds, but small enough to fit in a burlap sack. With K-Fed in custody (Britney turned him in), our new little monster, and a sold out crowd, we were ready to get the event underway. Kevin was handcuffed, fitted with a noose, and perched on top of a steel chair. With a backwards 3 count, roaring fans, and all of the cameras in the arena popping off like glitter bombs, I could barely contain my excitement. Vince McMahon kicked the folding chair out from underneath him as I dumped the freakish creature on the mat beneath K-Fed's twitching feet. The man-eating blob hopped around gnashing it's teeth and taking bit by bit of our helpless wannabe with each bounce. It was a deliciously nasty and bloody main event. Thanks to each of you that voted.

Paris Hilton: It was a bright and sunny morning, and I was relaxing along the Loire Valley in France when I received the call.  The voice on the phone said "Head to Paris and meet outside of the Eiffel tower."  It was on. I packed my things and bolted out of the suite.  I made it to the city in no time, and when I reached the Eiffel Tower, a sizeable crowd had formed around it's base.  People were pointing up and looking on with binoculars, while others were taking photos and video.  I got a tap on the shoulder and turned to greet my contact, none other than Rick Salomon.  He's video taped Ms. Hilton several times in the past, and claims he can convince her to do anything.  Well, we shall see. Rick soon begins to talk about meeting up with Paris at a club the night before, and how she was already quite tipsy.  Apparently they partied all night, did a bunch of coke, then decided to play "Truth or Dare" rich kid style.  He dared Paris to let him shoot her with arrows a couple of times.  She said "Sure" as if she wasn't really listening.   After a few solid shots, she said it was starting to get boring.  Surprisingly, he said she continued to babble on about make-up and alcohol.  He then dared her to saw her own leg off.  She didn't really want to do that one at first, but somehow he convinced her it was alright because she was (in actuality) just dreaming.   So, she sawed her own leg off!!  As her thigh spurt blood, she continued to gab about doing drugs and having money...wow.  Finally he bet the little socialite that she couldn't fit the tip of the Eiffel Tower inside of her.  She begged to differ, but said it was too hard climbing that high.  Rick double dared her and then offered to drop her on top of it from his plane...so that she wouldn't have to climb.  She made a martini and hopped in the cock pit. Unbelievable. When I asked him if she was dumb enough to actually go through with it, he just smiled and handed me a pair of binoculars.  Then, he pointed up towards the silhouette at the top of the tower.  When the EMTs showed up, they said that she was mumbling something about designer clothes and risky sex...!