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“Wicked: For Good” director Jon M. Chu recently shared some fascinating behind-the-scenes insights about those two new songs everyone’s been buzzing about. And here’s the thing — he wasn’t initially sold on the idea.

The revelation comes as we’re heading into the home stretch before the November release (mark your calendars for the 21st, fellow musical lovers). Chu’s candor about the creative process feels refreshingly honest in an era where Hollywood tends to play things close to the vest. “Even after we recorded them, even after we put them in the movie, we kicked the tires on them,” he admitted, showing a dedication to authenticity that’s becoming increasingly rare in big-budget productions.

Let’s put this in perspective. The first “Wicked” film absolutely crushed it at the box office — we’re talking $750 million globally. That kind of success usually leads to playing it safe with sequels, but Chu and his team clearly had other ideas.

The new musical numbers aren’t just there to pad the runtime or chase Oscar glory (though don’t be surprised if they end up in that conversation come awards season 2025). One of them, co-written by Cynthia Erivo herself, apparently left the entire cast and crew in tears during filming. Though Erivo, in characteristic humility, wondered if everyone was “just emotional that day.” Sure, Cynthia — whatever helps you sleep at night.

What’s particularly striking about these additions is how they tackle the concept of “home” — a theme that’s always been woven into the fabric of Oz stories, but perhaps never quite like this. The songs dig into questions that feel eerily relevant to our current moment: What happens when the place you’ve been fighting for doesn’t want you back? When does a dream become a dead end?

Chu made another gutsy call by reuniting our favorite witches — Erivo’s Elphaba and Ariana Grande’s Glinda — earlier than the stage version does. His reasoning? “It’s the girls, stupid!” (Sometimes the simplest answers are the best ones, aren’t they?)

The new song for Glinda, titled “Girl in the Bubble,” seems particularly intriguing. It’s about confronting privilege and, well, popping one’s own bubble — metaphorically speaking. Meanwhile, Elphaba’s number explores the lonely side of self-discovery. As Chu puts it, “She’s now surrendered to who she is… But she did not realize how lonely it would be to become who you are meant to be.” That’s the kind of universal truth that hits right in the feels.

Perhaps most telling is Chu’s summation of the sequel’s theme: “If Part 1 is about choices, Part 2 is about consequences.” In a world where consequences seem increasingly optional, there’s something oddly refreshing about that premise.

The November release can’t come soon enough. Until then, we’ll just have to speculate about these new songs — and maybe practice our own witch cackling, just to be ready.

YouTube Music’s latest experiment might have users humming a different tune — and not necessarily a happy one. The streaming platform has quietly begun testing a rather controversial move: putting song lyrics behind a premium paywall. After just three peeks at those sweet, sweet lyrics, free users are now getting nudged toward that “upgrade to Premium” button.

The story broke when a Reddit user (aren’t they always the first to spot these things?) shared their encounter with a pop-up that basically said, “Want to keep singing along? Time to pay up!” It’s the kind of move that makes you wonder if someone in YouTube’s strategy department has been taking notes from those subscription-hungry streaming services we’ve all come to know — and occasionally roll our eyes at.

Let’s be real for a moment. YouTube Music isn’t exactly the Beyoncé of streaming services, but it’s been steadily climbing the charts, so to speak. Their clever bundling with YouTube Premium has been a pretty sweet deal for folks who want their music with a side of ad-free cat videos. But this lyrics paywall? That’s hitting a different note entirely.

Here’s where things get interesting — and a bit déjà vu-ish. Spotify tried pulling this same move back in the day, and it went about as well as a kazoo solo at a classical concert. The backlash was fierce enough to make them backpedal faster than a cyclist who just spotted a bear.

“The audacity of YouTube when people can just Google lyrics for free,” one Redditor pointed out, and honestly? Fair point. In 2025, when you can ask your smart fridge to tell you the words to “Bohemian Rhapsody,” this kind of restriction feels a bit… outdated.

But hold up — not everyone’s singing the same tune of discontent. Some users are actually shrugging it off, suggesting that having lyrics right there in your music app is a legitimate premium feature. After all, convenience does count for something, right?

Behind the scenes, there’s probably more to this story. Those lyrics don’t magically appear in streaming apps — companies like LyricFind and MusixMatch need their slice of the pie. And in today’s economy, every streaming service is trying to figure out how to keep the lights on without driving away users.

For now, YouTube Music seems to be taking baby steps with this feature, testing the waters like a cautious swimmer at a pool party. Many users haven’t seen any changes yet, suggesting this might be more of a trial balloon than a full-scale revolution.

The bigger picture here is fascinating. Streaming services are doing this delicate dance between giving away the store and actually turning a profit. It’s like trying to nail that perfect karaoke performance — too aggressive and you’ll clear the room, too timid and nobody notices you’re there.

Will YouTube Music stick to their guns or pull a Spotify and reverse course? That’s the million-dollar question (or should we say, the price of a Premium subscription?). One thing’s crystal clear — in the streaming world’s ongoing talent show, every feature matters, and one wrong move could send your audience reaching for the next act.

The Digital Assault: How Autoplay Became the Internet’s Most Persistent Pest

Remember the good old days when videos stayed put until you pressed play? Those times feel as distant as dial-up internet now. In today’s digital landscape, autoplay has morphed into the web’s equivalent of that overeager party guest who just won’t take the hint to leave.

Tech giants love to frame autoplay as a “feature” that enhances user experience. Right. And pop-up ads were just trying to make browsing more interactive. The truth? It’s all about those sweet, sweet engagement metrics that keep advertisers throwing money at platforms faster than Silicon Valley can coin new buzzwords.

But here’s where things get interesting.

These digital overlords have begrudgingly started offering escape hatches from their perpetual motion machines. Though finding these settings often requires the determination of a digital archaeologist and the patience of a zen master. It’s almost as if these options were deliberately buried under layers of menu options designed by someone who thinks “user-friendly” means “good luck finding it, sucker.”

Take Facebook’s approach to video control. While they’ve made it clear they’re about as likely to remove autoplay as Mark Zuckerberg is to start wearing colorful shirts, they’ve tucked away an off switch in their settings – somewhere between “Advanced Quantum Physics” and “Things We Hope You Never Find.”

Browser makers, surprisingly, have emerged as unlikely heroes in this saga. Firefox leads the charge with robust autoplay blocking, while Chrome at least offers the digital equivalent of a mute button. Safari users can shut down autoplay entirely, which feels like stumbling upon a cheat code in this endless game of digital whack-a-mole.

Meanwhile, Instagram and TikTok – those algorithmic attention merchants – remain steadfastly committed to their autoplay philosophy. The best they offer is a “data-saving” option, which is about as helpful as a screen door on a submarine. Sure, the videos will load more slowly, but they’re still coming whether you want them or not.

Netflix presents its own peculiar puzzle. Despite being sophisticated enough to predict your next binge-watch with unsettling accuracy, they require a journey through their browser-based settings to disable autoplay. It’s 2025, and somehow this streaming pioneer still can’t figure out how to add this option to their mobile app. Makes you wonder if they’re being deliberately obtuse or just enjoying the show.

For those brave souls ready to reclaim their viewing autonomy, here’s the deal: every platform has its own Byzantine path to freedom. Chrome users must navigate through more menus than a Russian nesting doll. Firefox keeps it relatively straightforward, while Edge splits the difference with their “Limit” option – a classic Microsoft compromise if there ever was one.

Social media platforms? They’re playing their own game of hide-and-seek with these settings. X (formerly Twitter, formerly a coherent platform) buries autoplay controls deep within accessibility settings, while Facebook’s control panel feels like it was designed by someone who really enjoys escape rooms.

What’s particularly fascinating about this digital tug-of-war is how it reflects broader tensions in our online existence. The mere presence of these off switches – however well-concealed – represents a small victory for user choice in an ecosystem increasingly designed to maximize “engagement” at all costs.

The whole situation drips with irony. In our quest for entertainment and connection, we’ve created platforms that seem pathologically incapable of leaving us alone. It’s the defining paradox of our digital age – the constant need to opt out of being opted in.

For now, the power to control our viewing experience exists, even if finding it requires the skills of a digital detective. Perhaps that’s the most telling commentary on our current technological moment: sometimes the most valuable feature isn’t what technology can do, but what we can prevent it from doing.

And isn’t that just the way things go in our brave new digital world?

Hollywood’s glossy facade rarely cracks to reveal genuine moments of parental wisdom. Yet there’s something remarkably different about the recent sit-down between Julia Roberts and George Clooney in 72 Magazine’s debut issue. Perhaps it’s the way they slouch comfortably in their chairs, or how their laughter punctuates even the serious moments — but this isn’t your typical celebrity puff piece.

The conversation meanders naturally, touching on everything from their kids’ latest adventures to the peculiar challenge of explaining fame to an 8-year-old. “My friend’s mom said you’re famous,” Clooney’s son had announced one day. The actor’s response? Classic Clooney: “Well, tell her I’m very famous!”

Between sips of what’s probably ridiculously expensive coffee (though neither star mentions it), Roberts and Clooney navigate the tricky waters of raising kids in the spotlight. Their chat feels worlds away from those stiff, staged White House photos of yesteryear — you know, the ones where Elvis awkwardly posed with Nixon, both looking like they’d rather be anywhere else.

Roberts, whose twins Hazel and Phinnaeus just hit 20 (feel old yet?), drops what might be the most refreshing parenting advice heard from a celebrity in ages. “Do not be afraid,” she says, leaning forward. “They don’t wake up as monsters one day. They don’t turn 13 and hate you. They don’t turn 16 and hate you. You just have to hang in there and things shift and then the boat rights itself again.”

The timing of this conversation feels particularly relevant as we head into 2025, when social media’s grip on celebrity culture seems tighter than ever. Gone are the days when stars could simply avoid the paparazzi by ducking into their favorite restaurant’s back door. Now, every parent with a smartphone is potentially documenting their kids’ brush with fame.

Roberts — who’s generating Oscar buzz for her upcoming psychological drama “After the Hunt” — seems more invested in discussing her role as a mother than her latest screen performance. “It’s such a magnificent thing to be part of this family,” she reflects, and you can almost hear the pride drowning out two decades’ worth of Academy Award applause.

Their conversation drifts between light-hearted moments and deeper reflections, much like any chat between old friends who happen to have five kids between them. The authenticity hits harder when you remember these are two people who’ve weathered every Hollywood storm imaginable since the ’90s.

Sometimes, the most profound truths come wrapped in the simplest packages. As Roberts and Clooney demonstrate, maybe the secret to celebrity parenting isn’t so different from regular parenting after all — it just comes with a few more cameras and considerably more expensive coffee.

Beyond Fest 2025 has just dropped its lineup, and darling, it’s serving pure cinematic decadence. Think less cookie-cutter film festival, more fever dream of celluloid excess — the kind that makes film buffs weak in the knees and casual moviegoers question their streaming subscriptions.

From September 23rd to October 8th, this gloriously unhinged celebration of genre cinema is commandeering LA’s most beloved movie houses. The Egyptian Theatre (fresh off its Netflix-funded facelift), the ever-reliable Aero, and the charmingly intimate Los Feliz 3 are all getting in on the action.

Eight world premieres. Five North American debuts. And enough star power to make the Hollywood Sign blush. Beyond Fest head programmer Evrim Ersoy’s practically bouncing off the walls about this year’s lineup — and honestly? Who can blame them?

Park Chan-wook’s “No Other Choice” kicks things off with what’s bound to be a masterclass in elegant brutality. (Remember how “Decision to Leave” left everyone gasping back in ’22? Expect more of that delicious psychological warfare.) At the other end, Yorgos Lanthimos closes things out with “Bugonia” — and if you thought “Poor Things” was wild, honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

But here’s the real showstopper: Guillermo del Toro’s doing a retrospective. Yes, that Guillermo del Toro — the man who made us fall in love with fish-men and gave gothic romance its groove back. And because the festival gods are feeling particularly generous, Al Pacino’s showing up for a “Dick Tracy” screening and Q&A. In 2025, who’d have thought we’d still be talking about that technicolor fever dream? But here we are, and it’s absolutely perfect.

The programming this year? It’s giving range. Bryan Fuller’s “Dust Bunny” promises to do for household debris what “Chucky” did for dolls. Luca Guadagnino’s “After the Hunt” is already generating Oscar buzz — yes, in September, because that’s how the industry rolls now. And Scott Derrickson’s “Black Phone 2” might actually be that rare horror sequel that doesn’t make you want to change your number.

Speaking of numbers, mark this one down: September 11th, 10 AM PST. That’s when tickets drop on americancinematheque.com. Pro tip? Set multiple alarms. These tickets vanish faster than a Hollywood marriage.

The cherry on top? They’re screening “Big Trouble in Little China” in 70mm. Kurt Russell’s mullet deserves nothing less. Plus, there’s a world premiere of “Jacob’s Ladder” in 4K that’ll have you questioning reality all over again — as if 2025 wasn’t trippy enough already.

Let’s be real: Beyond Fest isn’t just another stop on the festival circuit. It’s where cinema lets its freak flag fly, where genre boundaries blur like a David Lynch dream sequence, and where film lovers come to remember why they fell in love with movies in the first place.

Now that’s worth a standing ovation — preferably in slow motion, with dramatic lighting.

Oh darlings, let’s dish about the deliciously awkward moment that just turned Britain’s glitziest television celebration into something worthy of a cringe-comedy series. The National Television Awards — typically a parade of perfectly orchestrated glamour — served up the kind of unscripted drama that makes awards shows truly worth watching.

Picture this: The O2 Arena, awash in the warm glow of spotlight and sparkle, suddenly turned ice-cold when Dermot O’Leary — bless his usually charming heart — committed what can only be described as a cardinal sin of showbiz etiquette. The victim? None other than broadcasting royalty Sir Trevor McDonald, who found himself on the receiving end of what we’ll call “envelope-gate.”

The scene unfolded like a slow-motion car crash in designer wear. Sir Trevor, elegant as ever in a masterfully cut tuxedo (Tom Ford, if my trained eye serves me right), approached the envelope opening with his trademark gravitas. But darling Dermot — perhaps feeling the pressure of live TV’s merciless ticking clock — chose that precise moment to channel his inner diva.

The eye roll. The hurrying gestures. The palpable impatience. Honey, we haven’t seen this much tension on a British stage since Piers Morgan stormed off his own show. Social media, naturally, exploded faster than a champagne cork at an after-party.

“Dermot showed his true colours,” posted one viewer on X (still feels strange not calling it Twitter, doesn’t it?). The observation spread through social channels like wildfire through last season’s shoulder pads.

Let’s be crystal clear — we’re talking about Sir Trevor McDonald here. The man who’s delivered everything from royal weddings to national crises with unshakeable poise. To rush him through an envelope opening is like telling Meryl Streep to speed up her Oscar acceptance speech. You just don’t do it, sweetie.

The whole affair cast a rather unfortunate shadow over what should have been Call the Midwife’s moment to shine. Though honestly, the drama of “The Trevor Incident” (as it’s already being dubbed in industry circles) arguably delivered more entertainment value than half the nominated shows combined.

Meanwhile, Joel Dommett — our host for the evening — deserves a special mention for navigating the ceremony’s choppy waters with the skill of a seasoned yacht captain. The show must go on, after all, and go on it did, with Michael McIntyre and Gary Lineker collecting their well-deserved hardware.

But let’s be honest — in the grand theater of awards show moments, this little pas de deux between O’Leary and McDonald will be remembered long after we’ve forgotten who won what. It’s these unscripted moments of human drama that remind us why live television remains unmatched in its ability to capture raw reality, even when wrapped in designer labels and bright lights.

The aftermath at the O2’s lavish after-party buzzed with whispered conversations and raised eyebrows. Industry veterans traded knowing looks over perfectly chilled champagne, while younger stars received a masterclass in what not to do when sharing the stage with a legend.

Perhaps it’s a timely reminder that in our rush to create perfect, Instagram-worthy moments, we sometimes forget the value of patience, respect, and good old-fashioned manners. In show business, as in life, sometimes the most powerful moments come not from rushing forward, but from knowing when to step back and let others shine.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check if my invitation to next year’s ceremony is still in the mail. Something tells me the seating arrangement between these two might require some careful consideration.

The millennial pop princess is ready for her encore.

Hilary Duff’s announcement of her return to music — her first major musical venture since 2015 — feels like a perfectly-timed gift for her devoted fanbase. The beloved star, who captured hearts during the early 2000s, has inked a deal with Atlantic Records that promises to bridge the gap between nostalgia and now.

Late last week, Duff took to Instagram with a series of candid studio snapshots featuring herself and musician-husband Matthew Koma. “New music… or something,” she wrote with that signature warmth that’s kept fans connected through various career phases. The post quickly became a rallying point for millennials who’ve followed her journey from teen idol to respected actress and mother of four.

But here’s where things get interesting. Rather than simply dropping new tracks, Duff’s taking fans behind the curtain with an accompanying docuseries. The project — helmed by Sam Wrench (fresh off the monumental success of Taylor Swift’s “Eras Tour” film) — promises an unvarnished look at what it means to stage a musical comeback while juggling motherhood and a thriving acting career in 2025.

The timing couldn’t feel more significant. Just months back, Duff marked the 22nd anniversary of “Metamorphosis,” her debut album that defined a generation of pop music. “I do know this marker of time was a huge change in my being,” she reflected on Instagram, acknowledging the profound impact that record had on both her life and her fans’.

Speaking of fans — social media practically exploded at the news. Between enthusiastic tweets and Instagram comments, it’s clear the appetite for new Hilary Duff music hasn’t waned. “Wow this is absolutely a dream come true. I’ve missed Hilary Duff so much,” wrote one particularly moved supporter. Another chimed in: “Can’t wait to hear her new music. Used to have her on repeat back in the day.”

The project seems to be shaping up as a family affair. Koma — an accomplished musician and producer in his own right — appears deeply involved in the creative process. During a recent Mother’s Day tribute, he playfully urged his wife to “Please go save millennial pop music,” adding that “It needs you now more than ever.” (Let’s be honest — he might be onto something there.)

For those who’ve watched Duff evolve from Disney Channel star to acclaimed actress in hits like “How I Met Your Father,” this latest chapter feels like more than just a comeback — it’s a full-circle moment that honors both her roots and her growth. Between caring for her four children (Luca, Banks, Mae, and baby Townes) and maintaining an active acting career, Duff’s return to music speaks volumes about pursuing passion projects on your own terms.

While exact release dates for both the music and docuseries remain under wraps, there’s something undeniably exciting about watching an artist reconnect with their first love. In an industry that often seems fixated on youth and compromise, Duff’s re-emergence as a musician feels like a refreshing reminder that creative evolution knows no timeline — even if that means taking a nine-year detour along the way.

After all, sometimes the best comebacks are the ones worth waiting for.

The music industry’s landscape is shifting in fascinating ways as we head into 2025, with two remarkable stories emerging this week that showcase how legendary artists continue to shape our cultural conversation — even decades after their prime.

Let’s start with an unexpected twist in the world of music rights management. Reservoir Media, that scrappy boutique company that’s been turning heads lately, just pulled off something remarkable: they’ve acquired 90% of Miles Davis’s musical legacy. Not bad for a company whose CEO, Golnar Khosrowshahi, decorates her office with Finnish moss rather than the typical gold records.

The timing couldn’t be more perfect. With Davis’s centennial approaching in 2026, the jazz legend’s nephew, Vince Wilburn Jr., seems genuinely excited about the possibilities. “Uncle Miles was about evolution. He never looked back,” Wilburn shared, his words carrying the weight of someone who actually played drums alongside the jazz pioneer. “So you want the music to continue to evolve long after we’re gone.”

Speaking of evolution — Hugh Jackman’s taking on Neil Diamond. (Now there’s a sentence that might’ve seemed odd a few years ago.) The upcoming “Song Sung Blue,” set to hit theaters this Christmas, promises to be more than just another musical biopic. It’s shaping up as a genuine exploration of Diamond’s impact on American music, filtered through Jackman’s considerable dramatic chops.

But let’s circle back to Reservoir for a moment. There’s something refreshingly different about their approach to managing musical legacies. While industry giants like Sony throw around billions — $2.5 billion in investments last year alone — Reservoir’s been winning over artists through what you might call the personal touch approach.

“We’re not a passive holder of intellectual property,” Khosrowshahi notes, perhaps understating the case. Her team’s already cooking up plans for Davis’s centennial that sound ambitious even by today’s standards: a Broadway show, an immersive experience at London’s Lightroom venue, and — get this — a biopic with Mick Jagger among the producers.

The way Khosrowshahi runs things feels almost old-school in the best possible way. “I’m in text contact with most of my clients all the time,” she mentions casually, “whether it’s about a new baby or new music.” In an era where corporate giants dominate the industry, there’s something oddly refreshing about a CEO who still believes in personal connections.

These parallel stories — Davis’s legacy finding a new home and Diamond’s life heading to the big screen — remind us that great music never really goes out of style. It just needs the right caretakers to help it find new audiences. And sometimes, those caretakers turn out to be the ones you least expect.

As we look toward 2026, it’s becoming clear that preserving musical legacies isn’t just about keeping old recordings in a vault somewhere. It’s about finding new ways to let these timeless sounds echo through the years ahead. Whether that’s through innovative rights management or compelling biographical storytelling, the beat, as they say, goes on.

The streaming wars just got personal. In what’s shaping up to be 2025’s first major media showdown, TelevisaUnivision has thrown down the gauntlet against YouTube TV, accusing the tech giant of implementing what they’re calling a “Hispanic Tax” — and the implications stretch far beyond just another corporate squabble.

At the heart of this mess? YouTube TV’s controversial decision to boot Univision from its $83 basic package, shoving it into a Spanish-language add-on tier that’ll cost viewers an extra $15 monthly starting September 30. Do the math, and that’s an 18% price hike just to keep watching the same content.

TelevisaUnivision isn’t taking this lying down. They’ve launched a blistering public campaign that’s hitting Google where it hurts — right in the corporate ethics. “Google’s proposal… is discriminatory and an abuse of its market power,” a TelevisaUnivision spokesperson declared, before delivering perhaps the most calculated jab of all: a direct reference to Google’s famous “don’t be evil” motto.

But here’s where things get interesting. YouTube TV’s response? Pure corporate pragmatism wrapped in data-speak. They’re claiming TelevisaUnivision’s demands simply don’t match their performance metrics over the past four years. It’s the kind of response that might make sense in a boardroom presentation but seems tone-deaf given the cultural implications at play.

The timing couldn’t be more charged. Just weeks after YouTube TV managed to smooth things over with Fox — keeping Fox News and Sports in their lineup — they’re now facing a fundamentally different kind of challenge. This isn’t just about dollars and cents; it’s about representation and access in an increasingly fragmented media landscape.

TelevisaUnivision’s argument cuts straight to the bone: “Univision is not niche — it moves America.” They’ve got a point. In today’s multicultural America, drawing arbitrary lines between “mainstream” and “specialty” content feels remarkably out of touch. Both Hulu with Live TV and DirecTV seem to get this, keeping Univision firmly planted in their core offerings.

Perhaps what’s most fascinating about this standoff is how it perfectly encapsulates the growing pains of streaming television in 2025. While platforms scramble to optimize their content tiers based on viewing metrics and engagement data, they’re running headlong into questions about cultural value and representation that algorithms simply can’t quantify.

As September 30 looms closer, millions of viewers are left wondering whether they’ll need to dig deeper into their pockets or lose access to their preferred programming entirely. It’s a reminder that in today’s digital age, even something as seemingly straightforward as a channel lineup can become a flashpoint for broader conversations about inclusion, accessibility, and corporate responsibility.

The resolution of this dispute might just set the tone for how streaming platforms handle multicultural content going forward. After all, in an era where media consumption is increasingly personalized, the question remains: Who gets to decide what’s “niche” and what’s essential?

Just when Floridians thought they’d seen it all, a wild boar decided to rewrite the home invasion playbook in Lehigh Acres. The unexpected guest—weighing in at roughly 300 pounds—crashed through a glass door last week, giving new meaning to the phrase “breaking and entering.”

The September 4th incident, which unfolded just east of Fort Myers, quickly turned into what local law enforcement dubbed a “boarglary in progress.” Because apparently, even the police can’t resist a good pun in the face of absurdity.

Body camera footage captured the whole bizarre spectacle. “Hey, bring me that rope!” one deputy called out, his startled “geeeooosh” perfectly capturing what anyone would say upon finding a massive pig redecorating someone’s living room. The resulting 45-minute standoff proved that sometimes reality truly is stranger than fiction.

The Lee County deputies found themselves in an impromptu game of pig-and-mouse that would’ve made any reality TV producer salivate. Their attempts to wrangle the uninvited guest went about as well as you’d expect—which is to say, not well at all. Turns out, hog-tying isn’t quite as simple as old Western movies make it seem.

Here’s where things get interesting, though. While a pig breaking and entering might seem like peak Florida chaos, these porcine troublemakers have actually been stirring up trouble in the Sunshine State since 1589. That’s when Spanish explorer Hernando DeSoto first introduced them to the region. Talk about leaving a lasting legacy.

The situation reached its climax when the boar, clearly unimpressed with law enforcement’s hospitality, decided to charge the officers. This led to what might generously be called a “tactical relocation”—though “running like hell” might be more accurate. The officers managed to lure the animal outside, leading to a chase scene that would’ve put Fast & Furious to shame (albeit with more oinking and less Vin Diesel).

Despite their best efforts, the four-legged perpetrator eventually disappeared into nearby woods, leaving behind a damaged patio door and a story that’ll definitely be getting embellished at the next department barbecue. These days, wild hogs roam all 67 Florida counties—a reminder that sometimes unwanted house guests don’t just overstay their welcome, they multiply across an entire state.

Thankfully, no one was injured during this particular pig’s home renovation attempt. Though the same can’t be said for the poor glass door, which definitely won’t be keeping any more uninvited guests out—porcine or otherwise. Just another day in Florida, where you never quite know what might come crashing through your door next. Could be a hurricane, could be a wild boar, or maybe—if the odds are in your favor—just your neighbor’s escaped peacock looking for its next Instagram moment.