Hydrogen: Listening to this dialogue is like...it's like somebody put a big pile of cookie-cutter 70s and 80s cop movies into an industrial blender and reduced it to a fine slurry.
Trillaphon: A slurry seasoned with sultry MIDI keyboard saxophone patches and wailing Zakk Wylde whammy bar funeral dirges.
Trillaphon: Okay, so let's review what we've got on our uncatchable super killer here so far:
Hydrogen: I can't wait to see what the composite sketch guy comes up with for that.
Trillaphon: I'm picturing the Monopoly guy clutching a sack with a dollar sign in his mutated, radioactive Popeye fist, and something about sexually assaulting a xerox machine.
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
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.