IT’s take your daughters to work day at Troma Studios.   After a civilized morning walk down the perfectly manicured upper east side Prominade with Southern Belle Mom, things take a Turn for Troma and we  head out East to Long Island City to follow Dad in a typical Tromatic Day in Tromaville.

We start out from our nice little house with some good cursing as the wheels on dad’s very masculine turquoise rolling bag get stuck in the stairs down from our brownstone.  fck fck fck its hot in the sun.  Dad has to slap on sunscreen, in case you didn’t know, he had all sorts of subhumanoid cancers scalpeled out of his face at various times in his life, and so every morning slaps on special ordered Sunlotion with astronomic SPF’s like 200 SPF that has Glue in it, so it never comes off.    then we head to the subway.

It is approximately 105 degrees on the Express train platform.  We change at 59th street to the Queens bound train, dad pulls his turqoise and white polkadot rolling suitcase up the stairs through the crowds of people, cursing, pausing only to stretch because the Bee Sting Therapy he is using to solve his back pain hasn’t kicked in yet this week, or to point out a rat rummaging through some garbage in the tracks below the platform.   This is a dignified way to travel to work for an award winning 65 year old director who has run an independent studio for 36 years.

And now, finally, we’ve arrived safe and sound in the peaceful airconditioned Troma studios where we’ve taken over the desk of  Michael Herz, Pop’s Longtime partner (no, not that kind of partner) and have set up shop in an office just like any other — full of bloody limbs, severed heads, half crushed skulls, and various Tromabilia, ready to take your questions.


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