Do Not Tell Nicolas Cage’s Son That He Can’t Eat Something

June 8, 2011 / Posted by:

A Cage was shuffled off to the mental hospital yesterday and minds were blown with release when we all learned it wasn’t Nicolas.

Nicolas Cage’s 20-year-old son Weston did not have a good day yesterday. TMZ reports that it all started when Weston got into a screaming fight with his new wife Nikki ending with her performing Ginger’s “I’M GOING! I’M GOING” scene from Casino and leaving their house. So Weston was already sitting right next to rage when he had lunch with his personal trainer at The Farmer’s Market in Hollywood later in the afternoon.

Weston wanted to order something off the menu and his trainer wouldn’t let him. Note to all: When Weston Cage wants to order the grilled decapitated pigeon heads and sacrificial goat hearts with a white wine vinaigrette, LET HIM. It will save you from trying to block a roundhouse kick from a goth prince. That’s exactly what Weston did. A source says that Weston lost his mind and tried to kick his trainer like a scorned Chinese lady on a public bus. Even after Weston’s trainer took him down and tried to whisper some calm into him, he continued with his freakout.

The cops arrived and threatened to turn Weston’s dick bush into his dad’s hair by tasering him. Weston had a “Don’t tase me, bro” epiphany and finally cooled his shit. Instead of taking him to jail, the cops took him to a local hospital for a mental health evaluation. Weston’s dad flew into town yesterday to be with his son and has put all of his plans on hold to stay with him indefinitely.

It’s not known if Weston was on the wrong stuff, but the waitstaff at the restaurant thinks he was under the influence of something.

Weston shouldn’t feel bad. This is what Kristie Alley used to do when her trainer didn’t let her eat carbs. Her eyes would turn black, the clouds would cover the sun, animals within a 2-mile radius would run for cover and Maryann Forrester from True Blood could be heard cackling in the distance. It happens.

Weston is in good hands now and hopefully he’s getting the crazy tamed. You know what my abuelita used to do to soothe the nerves? She would go into the backyard, murder bees with her chankla, hike up her house dress and then she’d sting herself in the leg with its stinger. And she not once screamed, “No las abejas!!!!” It was more like the bees screamed, “No a la abuela!!!

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