Hydrogen: Wow, I never realized that cats were so opinionated and smug. Well, maybe smug.
Trillaphon: That cat sure does hate machines for some reason.
Hydrogen: Yeah, there are lots of weird, paranoid comments from him about machinery. Maybe his dear old dad flew a little too close to the proverbial sun down at the local tuna cannery?
Trillaphon: And then he started hitting the catnip hard to deal with the pain, which is why he's about as articulate as Orson Welles after burning through his third box of chardonnay.
Hydrogen: I don't know what you're talking about, this is what quality voice acting sounds like. Assuming your voice actor is mumbling into a half-full can of baked beans while a 10-cent RadioShack microphone is recording at the other end of a football field.
Trillaphon: Speaking of shit and mouths, how about that magical talking-cat mouth? You could have made a more realistic talking-cat effect 80 years ago with scissors and hand puppetry.
Hydrogen: There are probably 99-cent smartphone apps that could do that effect better than this movie did. And they come with 10 varieties of pre-recorded fart sounds at no extra charge.
Be on the lookout for these armed and dangerous oldsters.
Instead of complaining about the cold, ask yourself where Spring has been all this time.
Kurt Cobain and gang finally learn the truth behind Morton Downey's evil scheme.
Something Awful reviews the absolute worst movies out there. We focus mostly on horror and science fiction, because all writers here on Something Awful are huge nerds.