Horror Movie Shakes Viewers

We all go to the movies.  Except for Jimmy in accounting, but fuck that guy.  We hear he has eczema and that's just gross.  Besides for that philistine dingaling, Strange Times is in full support of cinema and all of its twitching limbs.  Each year, countless tales of intrigue, romance and animated woodland creatures sucking each other off hit screens across the globe.  Whether its to our amusement or disgust, ultimately it is the audience that makes or breaks a film.

"Boy oh boy!  It's like he's cumming right on us!"

This weekend, a horror movie came out.  You might be saying to yourself, "WHO CARES?!  I've seen tons of horror movies before.  What makes this one so special?"  Well if you would just shut your god damn shit-filled mouth for one second, we'll tell you.  Audiences entered theaters expecting the same old spooks:  Vacant-eyed children castrating priests with their minds, some dude wondering what the fuck is going on and above all, bodacious, bouncing, blood-soaked bozongas.

We'd let her murder our friends and family anytime.

In the most recent feature from acclaimed director Tub Blubson, theater-goers were treated to something infinitely more sinister than your run-of-the-mill scare fare.  Famous for such controversial works as Bleed: The Blood, Whose Dead Cat Is This? and My God, My Gourd, Tub returns with his most startling film yet.

"It's a mirror," said Tub in an interview with RashFilm, a blog run by nervous teens with poor skin.  "Viewers will be subjected to their own terrible reflections.  They will see themselves for the capitalist pigs and soulless whores they have become.  With this film, I hope to expose our cruel world for the flaming ball of slime that it truly is."  Projectionists nationwide have raised questions as to "how that's even possible", but all skeptics were silenced after enduring the film themselves.

Imagine every zit, fifty feet tall.

Hunks and hotties alike have taken to theaters in hopes of debunking the film's effect, but to no avail.  Even Crud McGuffin, local stud muffin, was no match for the film's overpowering influence.  "At first, it wasn't so bad," recounted a shaken Crud.  "My hair was looking luscious and my pecs were poppin' from going extra hard at the gym that day.  Then, suddenly everything became clear to me.  I am a shell of a man.  I take pride in my physical appearance because I have never been in touch with my emotions.  Also, my dick is like a shrimp that got left out in the sun."

Profits at concession stands have risen by nearly %1,000,000 as emotionally shattered citizens have flocked to buttery, sugar-soaked snacks to suppress their crippling insecurity.  "I JUST KEEP EATING, BUT NOTHING WORKS!" shouted a balding lunatic in the lobby of Cineplex 6 while smearing feces on his scalp.  "Raisinets, Sno-Caps, Sour Patch Kids.  For the love of god when will it end?  WHEN WILL I BE HAPPY?!"  Suicide rates have also increased significantly since the film's debut, but we attribute that to the simultaneous release of The Smurfs 2.

Slit your wrists while you can.

Film critics have panned the film for "being ugly" and "gaining quite a bit of weight over the past few months".  Blubson stands behind his work wholeheartedly and has gone as far as sending the film to international film festivals.  Trouble has arisen because of the film's fluctuating duration.  "It will go on as long as it needs to," said Tub to a panel of judges at Cannes Film Festival who were particularly resistant to the film.  "You will see yourselves as you are.  Perpetrators against decency.  Greasy, money-grubbing maggots.  Failures of the utmost caliber."  Clocking in at nearly 17-thousand minutes, the entire festival collapsed on itself in an orgy of self-loathing.  Roger Ebert was last seen tearing the jaw bone off of Channing Tatum and cramming it onto his own face.

Despite the film's profoundly disturbing impact on the world, it has yet to be titled.  Blubson says that he intentionally withheld its name to maintain the film's integrity, but we think that's just mystic art house bullshit.  Marquees have been billing it as That Fucking Mirror Movie or Look At It, You Scum.  We here at Strange Times plan on checking it out later this evening.  We aren't scared to look ourselves in the eye.  Unless we start thinking about the war.  Or Easter of '76.  Or really anything involving ladles.

It's just...too hard to talk about.

Theaters have outfitted their screens with a plexiglass coating to prevent disgruntled customers from destroying the image.  Blubson has already discussed details of DVD distribution.  "I will have a copy of this film playing around the clock in every bathroom of every home.  You cannot hide from yourselves, sniveling worms.  You will be forced to reckon with your stench."

In other news, we have begun work on our own film, which follows the journey of a young switchblade through the bowels of hobos in slums of New York City.  It will be released as soon as we get these red stains out of our eyeballs.