In a plot twist worthy of the big screen, Paramount Pictures has abruptly canceled its $400 million movie deal with Robert De Niro. The buzz around Hollywood? “He’s like a baby,” insiders whisper, depicting the iconic actor as more tantrum-prone than Taxi Driver.

This bombshell decision has sent shockwaves through the industry, with Paramount executives reportedly exhausted by De Niro’s demands. Sources reveal that the project, cloaked in secrecy but touted as a potential cinematic masterpiece, hit a roadblock when De Niro insisted his trailer be stocked daily with rare, imported baby formula—a peculiar request that seems either a nod to his method acting or a luxury of Hollywood royalty.

The fallout is as juicy as a season finale cliffhanger. “We’ve dealt with divas, but De Niro has taken it to a whole new level,” a Paramount insider confided. “It’s like handling a toddler demanding his bottle, except this toddler commands $400 million projects.”

This cancellation is a bold move by Paramount, indicating a seismic shift in the power dynamics between studios and their A-list stars. “Gone are the days when actors could behave like spoiled children and still expect the red carpet treatment,” the studio declared in a statement as cryptic as the plot of the now-axed film.

De Niro has remained silent, offering only a cryptic smile to paparazzi, as if to say, “You talkin’ to me?” Meanwhile, Hollywood is abuzz, speculating if this marks the end of the era of extravagant actor demands.

Paramount’s bold stance has cast an unlikely hero: Sandy Batt, a Paramount intern, who was tasked with sourcing De Niro’s daily dose of haute couture infant nutrition. “Honestly, I’m just relieved I don’t have to explain another $10,000 expense for baby formula on my intern salary,” she sighed—a sentiment likely echoed by the studio’s accountants.

As the dust settles on this Hollywood standoff, the industry ponders the future of film production. Not even a legend like De Niro is immune to the dreaded words: “You’re canceled.” Paramount’s decision marks a watershed moment, a cautionary tale for thespians everywhere that in today’s cutthroat movie business, acting like a baby might just get you sent to bed without your supper—or your $400 million movie deal.