Look at him. Just a few panels before he rageflips the whole board. Who among us doesn’t have the noble spirit of Beak floating in tandem with our own? He’s majestic. He cares about the integrity of the game of Clue. He treasures it. There is no “toilet room” in Clue. There is no Professor Sex!
Beak needs to be in every movie. Not just in every X-Man movie. Every. Single. Movie.
The Fast and the Furious, starring Beak. The Matrix, where every Agent Smith is Beak. Finding Beak-o. The Beakfather. Forrest Beak.
In The Sound of Music, Beak could play Gretl, the youngest. He’d squawk, “Goodnight” and scoot sleepily up the steps, molting as he went.
The Notebook, where Beak explains to his aging wife that they’re supposed to be in love. He folds his claws over his potbelly. A solitary tear rolls down his beak– the protrusion for which he’s named. And, miracle of miracles, she remembers him! Everyone cries in the theater. “If you’re a bird, I’m a bird!”
Juno, where Juno is Beak, and Paulie Bleeker is Beak, and the baby is Beak, and so is J.K. Simmons.
He wouldn’t even need a costume in Black Swan. He could slip unnoticed into the background of Shrek or Avatar– what’s another strange-looking monster? He’d blend in without a ripple.
In Trainspotting, they’ll inject Beak into their veins. In Singing in the Rain, each raindrop will be Beak. Beak is the house in Up and every eighth balloon.
Inception is a Beak within a Beak.
His talons are blue as his grip on the floating door loosens and Rose will never let go (metaphorically). His feathers are brittle with frost. He sinks, black eyes bulbous and unblinking.