For some unknown reason, the boy immediately develops some affection for the little alien monstrosity and decides that the best thing to do would be to trap it. In order to bottle and sell its excrement, the boy sets up a foolproof system of Coca-Cola cans and straws all over the house that lead to his room and a very high powered vacuum cleaner. The pustulent alien-freak is MYSTERIOUSLY UNABLE TO RESIST THE CANS OF COKE and is lured into the clever trap Eric has set for him. With the help of the annoying, frizz-haired neighbor girl, they suck up the alien in the vacuum cleaner. Yes, they SUCK IT UP, AS THOUGH IT WERE COMPRISED OF VARIOUS LIQUIDS AND PUTTY, INTO THE VACUUM. Suddenly, the vacuum begins to move by itself and in a vain attempt to stop it, the frizz-girl gets pulled along for the ride. It wheels her, screaming, through the house, and what follows is the second most obvious use of a stunt dummy since "True Lies," where they had to substitute a socially acceptable female body in a tight dress in place of beefy Jamie Lee Curtis and her flailing elbow-penises. The vacuum drags the girl-dummy down the hallway, up one of the walls, across the ceiling, and down the wall on the other side of the room. When it comes down from the ceiling, the dummy's legs crumple sickeningly into a gut-wrenching puddle before it zooms across the floor and stops in the middle of the room.
With the help of Eric the Cripple's annoying older brother, the kids change the vacuum setting from suck to blow (you see? it's all falling into place now) and the repulsive booger-alien spurts out. Of course, it's damaged and sick from its trip to Filthland, so they give it some Coke and it's magically, wonderfully, shockingly, and surprisingly all better. At this point the mother comes home and the alien exits stage lame. The kids try to explain that there is a Mysterious Alien Creature afoot that looks as though it was in a terrible industrial accident involving gasoline and Fritos. The mother, of course, doesn't believe a word of it, so they all go to sleep and dream about the time they were held hostage by fat men dressed as sausages and who sang about amphetamines and various rye breads.
The evil criminal mastermind! Cruel, calculating... and brilliant!
In the morning, Eric, the wheelchair-bound crippled boy, wakes up to find that the living room of the house is magically, wonderfully, shockingly, and surprisingly littered with Coke cans, all of which contain straws with tiny flowers placed in the tops. He also notes that while they were sleeping, the freakish snot ball alien has cleaned and reorganized their house for them as a token of appreciation for sucking it up in the vacuum the night before. Also present, laid out on the table, are a couple pictures of horses and a large print ad for Valvoline. The crippled boy whose legs are nonfunctional and who can't walk says with a cheesy grin, "he must want to go on a trip!" Yeah, he wants to go on a trip alright. I'll give him a trip. I'll put him inside of an oil drum, put the drum on a boat, sail the boat out in to the middle of the ocean, and then sink the boat with high-powered explosives. 10 years later I will raise the wreck of the boat, find the oil drum, and shoot it into the sun. Then I will blow up the sun. Problem solved.
The mother and the brother come into the living room and are shocked at the sight of their house not looking like a filthy K-Mart discount bin. By the sheer power of logic, the boys are able to convince the mother that there is no way they could be responsible for the house being clean because they are both lazy louts, and besides one of them can't even walk. She therefore concedes that perhaps the writhing mucus-sack from outer space does in fact exist. So she goes jogging.
Imagine the worst song that the 80's ever produced. Now imagine that song being ground into a fine powder and that powder being added to some week-old feces and the feces being ground into a powder and added to the remnants of Larry Flynt's bathwater. After sitting in the sun for approximately three weeks, stewing in its own juices, the sensation experienced when eating this ball of disease would come somewhere close to approximating the pain caused by the terrible music that plays during this next scene. The mother jogs down the road with Eric the mobility-challenged lad rolling along at her side. Meanwhile, the Mysterious Alien Creature decides that it would be a really good idea to get into one of those "Powerwheel" contraptions. You know, those cars for kids that go a maximum speed of about 2 miles per hour and that come in exciting designs like "Barbie's Pre-Teen Pink Underage Sex-Car."
So he jumps into one of those and thus begins a wacky montage that alternates between the mother and crippled kid jogging / wheeling and the freaky sentient mucus wad riding at what appears to be 30-odd miles per hour down a busy residential street. Suddenly, the neighborhood dogs take an interest in the blob from another world and begin to run after the little car. Oddly enough, they are unable to catch it even though they are running at top speed. All through the chase scene the music of doom plays on, inspiring suicide and mass destruction. The scene ends when the alien rockets over some uneven ground and is catapulted into a tree. The dogs gather beneath him, barking and jumping up at the branches. The camera pans out and we see the charming mother and cripple jogging / rolling down the road together. Apparently the aliens' powers, while perfectly capable of cleaning and rearranging an entire house, are not able to rescue him from the tree and hungry, stupid dogs.
Unfortunately, the alien survives its harrowing canine ordeal, and at this time it takes a coffee break to communicate with its stranded family in the desert. He does this by raising his cupped hands in the shape of an upside-down bird and whistling eerily through his fleshless, lipless mouth. The family of freaks, consisting of oddly-proprtioned people in rubber, potbellied freak-suits pawing through sand in the desert, hears him from hundreds of miles away and whistles back. The little space-turd is apparently homesick (literally) because the next day Eric, the 'Tard, and Frizzlefry find him sitting in a chair in the living room, mysteriously illin'. They offer him some water but he refuses it because there is no way he is about to ingest something that is not Coca-Cola brand cola. Eric and the girl have to go to a birthday party at the local McDonald's that day, and the girl's mother is waiting for them outside in the driveway. Eric is distraught because he doesn't want to leave his friend the walking anus by itself as it is so obviously under the weather. He tells the girl to wait outside for him.
If you are 35 and you are not integrated into the Gigathrax then you are not ready to retire.
While designing this space, I imagined David Fincher being forced to recreate the music video for Nine Inch Nails' Closer in a haunted gas station bathroom.
My game is funded. Now I know everything.
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