Last Monday, my financially inclined friends brought me an exciting piece of news: The rights to… Last Monday, my financially inclined friends brought me an exciting piece of news: The rights to the “Terminator” franchise are up for sale.

Being the die-hard “Terminator” fanatic I am — it’s my third-favorite James Cameron movie — I jumped at the opportunity, and I’m pleased to announce my bid for the rights.

Now, the company selling these rights might be skeptical of an unknown like me — and perhaps rightly so. A quick evaluation of my Panther Funds will reveal I’m not the millionaire mogul some of the bidders are.

But what I lack in monetary wealth, I make up for in cinematic prowess.

My ideas for the series are as subversive and ingenious as Skynet. Like Joss Whedon, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” creator and fellow bidder, I believe such story-blending sequels as “Terminator of the Rings” would serve to widen the franchise’s appeal and thicken our wallets.

But I propose something even more radical: a new story arc. Don’t worry, “Terminator” fans, I’ve got this one covered.

“Terminator 5”: After realizing the horrors of dystopian war, the cyborgs and the humans attempt to craft a treaty, but special interest groups threaten to undermine it with legal loopholes.

“Terminator 6”: The treaty fails, leading to another war of epic battles, romance and vehicular homicide. If we’re still tight on budget, we can just splice in stock footage from previous films.

“Terminator 7”: More of the same. We’ll end this one on a cliffhanger to give the illusion of narrative progress.

“Terminator 8”: Arnold Schwarzenegger goes back in time to try to save the failed experiment that is California. Instead of saving it, though, he just sits around saying stuff like, “I think that gay marriage should be between a man and a woman.” The state — and the movie franchise — gets worse.

“Terminator 9”: An epic, “This-might-really-be-the-last-movie” movie, wherein final battles are fought, memorable catch phrases are exchanged, and overbearing choirs sing songs in a minor key.

“Terminator 10”: In the same vein as “Indiana Jones” and “Pirates of the Caribbean,” it turns out this isn’t the last movie. One of the T-800s has survived the human “victory.”

“Terminator 11”: Another Terminator goes back in time to stop the original Terminator from running for governor. Intense “Which one should I shoot?” sequences ensue in the halls of power.

“Terminator 12”: The T-800 that survived dies.

“Terminator 13”: Schwarzenegger backs George W. Bush during the 2004 campaign, thereby ensuring a human apocalypse.

“Terminator 14”: Upon finding that the set’s brunch menu doesn’t include the nutritionally superior “wheat bread,” Christian Bale erupts, declaring that he’s “done, professionally.” As the cast and crew watch Bale storm off the set, they silently reminisce on the days when they didn’t have to deal with his Batman bullsh*t.

“Terminator 15”: There is no “Terminator 15,” the crew decides, because the series died long ago. “Terminator 3” was kind of good — not “Judgment Day” good, of course, but good enough to end the series. Instead, the crew realizes it’s been a steady downhill slope, what with the loss of the main actor, the increased reliance on spectacle over thought and the general narrative quagmire of having a definite ending planned out since the first movie. I sell the movie rights, now worth about as much as a 1992 Buick, to Tyler Perry. “Terminator 15” becomes a heartwarming comedy about the real meaning of family.

Anyway, that’s the trajectory I foresee, should my bid be accepted. As I tell my financial team, I can’t promise a budget surplus, but I can promise a fun surplus.

Also, as a side note, the producers should know that I can only pay in Dining Dollars.