Jonathan Brandis

It was a sad day in 2003 when Jonathan Brandis shocked his adoring public by hanging himself. However, the truth of that sad day has never been brought to light due to a deep-rooted conspiracy. You see, Mr. Brandis' death was not in fact a squeaky clean suicide, but a cold-blooded murder. There were no signs of a struggle, and that means that it was done by someone he trusted. I am here to tell you who that someone is. First, ask yourself, who had the most to gain by Mr. Brandis' untimely demise? Who stood to acquire more wealth and power than ever he had before? Who knew him well enough to charm his way into Jonathan's house before committing the villainous deed. That's right...

Chuck Norris.

Chuck worked with Jonathan on a little movie some of you may remember called "Sidekicks." It was a fun, family-oriented coming of age tale wherein a boy uses martial arts to overcome his fear of man-love, or something. It was on the set of "Sidekicks" that Jonathan Brandis fell in love with Braddock, aka Chuck Norris. Who could blame him? For years Chuck had been jump-kicking for freedom in the deepest jungles of Saigon. Who can resist a martially equipped lethal instrument of justice? I'll tell you who can't. Jonathan Brandis.

Jonathan kept things quiet about their relationship, only briefly turning up in the spotlight again for SeaQuest and a myriad of terrible direct-to-video movies. Things seemed to be going great for Jonny boy despite his ailing career. That is, until Chuck realized that he wasn't gay. Things fell apart for Brandis one fateful day in December. From this day until the day of his death, Chuck would be forever Missing In Action from Jonathan's life.

Things remained quiet for a few years until Jonathan decided that he could overcome his loss and become a somebody again. He had one weapon that he felt would either launch his career or sink it forever. Needless to say, he was prepared to take the risk. That weapon was his affair with Chuck Norris. The National Enquirer was his intended audience. Jonathan made the phone calls, dressed in his Sunday Best and made some appearances about town. He was received with the expected luke warm greeting, but he didn't care, for this would all change in a matter of days.

The Enquirer decided to beef up it's article by phoning Mr. Norris direct to ask him to comment on the article. They felt this would be the extra "spice" that would knock the world on end. Mr. Norris didn't even answer their first question. He hung up the phone, put on his tanned duster and hopped in his black jeep-truck. His destination was clear, Brandis.

Chuck arrived at the Brandis Estate (read "trailer home") at 7:05 p.m. CST. He coerced his way inside by whispering sweet Nothings into the young actor's ear. As soon as he had entry, he coaxed Mr. Brandis into the bedroom. Thinking that this may be one last fling with Lone Wolf McQuade, Brandis eagerly accepted. As soon as he set foot into his very own room, Chuck unleashed a very forbidden form of jumpkick and knocked Jonathan's head clear off of his shoulders. Momentarily stunned, not by the murder, but by the fact that at 63 he still had what it took to go back into the Octagon, he then rounded up some rope, duct taped Brandis' head back to his neck and suspended him from the rafters.

The police show up, a little Hollywood Razzle-Dazzle and BAM, suicide. One cop claims to have seen Norris leaving the scene of the crime, but brushed it off because, hey, how could anyone who owns a jetpack be evil?

Beware my young, fledgling actors, of who you fall for. There are thousands of Chuck Norris's out there, and YOU could be the next Jonathan Brandis!

P.S. I went to the Smithsonian instead of going to the Renaissance Fair. It was fun.