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While we were all ass-deep in champagne toasts and ill-advised hook-ups while the ball dropped, it seems that Paramount was in serious negotiations to hand over their flop-riddled dream factory to über-manager Brad Grey.

Sources indicate that it's almost a done deal, and Grey will be rewarded for his lack of "limited hands-on movie experience" with the top spot at a studio desperate to let the world know that it's now ready to take some risks and spend, spend, spend. (Everyone knows that studio heads get double the cred with their peers for mega-budget flops; penny-pinching stinkers are for pussies.)

When the dollars match up and the lawyers come to an agreement, look for Grey's coronation to take place atop the iconic Paramount water tower, where he will engage in a highly symbolic, power-conferring copulation with outgoing chief Sherry Lansing. Rose petals will rain down upon their sweat-soaked bodies, trumpets will herald the coming of the new regime, and anyone whispering "I hope he does better than Ovitz" will be summarily executed.