A huge lump of a turd masked by your typical '80s playlist. Managed to be unfunny, clichéd and unoriginal, with no redeeming feature whatsoever, which is a feat in itself. It did, however, succeed in boring me and inspiring me to kill myself. Why do I torture myself like this?
-1 snort of cocaine out of 5
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“Where we’re going, we don’t need ________”
A) Mom’s permission. B) Roads. C) Pants.