(Defamer today obtained this memo currently making the rounds in Heaven's Third District, Cloud Unit G — better known as "Sesame Heaven," or the Late Child Stars Dept. Reliable afterlife sources have confirmed its authenticity; we pass it along to you without further comment.) Dear God, Hi, God, it's me, Heather O'Rourke — the little girl from Poltergeist. How's tricks? I know how busy you must be dealing with the whole Isaac Hayes thing right now (my vote: let him in!), but when you get a second, I was hoping I might ask you for just one tiny little favor. It would really mean a lot, and I've been really good all these years and haven't requested anything except for that pony, but that was, like, 20 years ago when I first got here, and you never got back to me. No probs, though, God — I'm kinda glad it didn't work out, because now I need you to do me a much more important solid: Can you please smite the people responsible for this planned remake of Poltergeist?I don't quite know how these things work; Brad Renfro told me you helped out with his dealer not too long ago, and that depending on my grievance I could get some "real fucking payback" (his words not mine, LOL). And I think I've got a pretty strong case. I'm sure you've heard about all these movies MGM is recycling — Red Dawn, RoboCop, etc. — which is all pretty tacky, if you ask me. Like, really, God, aren't there any new ideas? Then I heard this morning that they hired some writers to remake my movie Poltergeist. I couldn't believe it! We had such a good thing going back in 1982, and now they're just gonna go and unimaginatively squeeze another few dollars out of the property. I'm practically spinning in my grave! Now listen, God: I have always minded my manners and been nice to everyone, as per Your dictates. But this really ticks me off, and if everyone else down on Earth gets to bomb, rape and kill each other with impunity, I don't see why I can't just this once ask you to strike someone with lightning or cast them opposite Billy Bob Thornton or at least scare some honest-to-You sense into them. Have you seen Poltergeist, God? I mean, I know you probably anticipated a lot of the twists, but didn't we do a good job overall — good enough to be left alone, anyway? It's not like we made Short Circuit (another forthcoming remake, but that's not my problem) or anything. And frankly, God, You've already made enough trouble with the whole curse that brought me and my on-screen sister Dominique Dunne here prematurely. I think teaching these heathens a lesson would be a healthy first step in rehabilitating Your image among us. Anyway, the people at MGM are named Harry Sloan, Mary Parent and Cale Boyter. The writers' names are Stiles White and Juliet Snowden, but I guess technically it's not their fault that this is happening, so please go easy on them — maybe an extended power outage, or an erased hard drive if they dare to revive my signature line, "They're heeeeeere." I trust You to determine the punishment for the studio people, though, especially with those other perversions they've wreaked of late. In fact, if You could get Tom Cruise himself to kill this project, I promise to clean my room and make my bed and eat my vegetables as long as I... well, You know. So how about it, God? I'm really a sweet girl, but isn't enough enough? Let me know... xo, Heather PS Leroi Moore, God? Really? That's just mean.

If it's not bombs, bees and/or anthrax threatening to engulf MGM in a dense apocalyptic deathcloud, then there's always the Specter of Ownership Past to give the denizens of Constellation Drive a good mortal scare. But only if they're willing to suspend their disbelief long enough to imagine Kirk Kerkorian shuffling back into town on his black steed, blank check in one hand and studio valuation figures in the other, grinning wildly at the prospect of reclaiming the studio a fourth time in as many decades. Most observers seem to think its a scenario as likely as the anthrax contagion rumored to be puffed through MGM Tower's central A/C, but frankly, we're in love with the idea. Moreover, we're in love with the 91-year-old mogul still rocking the brass balls it takes to reportedly offer $3 billion for the studio he sold to Sony four years ago for $5 billion:

This Just In: Lest there be any confusion about where things stand at United Artists: "STATEMENT FROM HARRY E. SLOAN, CHAIRMAN AND CEO, METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER STUDIOS INC. — After reading erroneous reports about Tom Cruise and United Artists, I would like to clarify that we are honored that he will continue as our full partner in control of UA. He is in the middle of one of the greatest careers our industry has ever seen and one that will continue at the top of United Artists Entertainment." And yes, don't worry — the cleaning lady is staying, too. [MGM]

We admit there's not a whole lot of shattered Earth to be found in Sunday's NY Times survey of the limping, lethargic new/old MGM (i.e. deep library, shallow future). Hats off to chairman Harry Sloan, though, for abandoning the low-energy talking points early on in the process and getting straight to the bitchslappy good stuff — whacks at his own new premium-cable partners ("If you don't have a major summer and a Christmas picture, you're not a player at the studio level. ... The best you're going to be is Lionsgate") and theatrical pals ("I thought I was making a deal with the guys who'd just come off Oscars for Chicago, Gangs of New York and Aviator," he said of the Weinstein Company. "Instead they went to the festivals, picked up movies and arbitraged MGM's deal on Showtime").

You tell us what's more frightening about MGM boss Harry Sloan's recent proclamations from Cannes: A) That the guy freely admits both Robocop and the Brat Pack-slays-the-Communists epic Red Dawn are up for remakes at his studio, or B) Sloan's public support of Tom Cruise, Valkyrie and United Artists has winnowed to the point of "clanking endorsement." Oh, who are we kidding? Valkyrie trumps everything: