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Pajama Party

(1964)

Some kids are throwing one of those 1960s pool parties full of astoundingly hot ass that no one ever seems to tap. Everybody's swimming and dancing and dancing while they're swimming, and at one point this particularly fine chick in an orange bikini is shaking her shit right over some flowers and they all die. Looks like it might be time to douche it, baby. Later the party moves to the beach where some shirtless fags play two new rock 'n' roll tunes, and later still they all go to a pajama party, and that's when this turns into the most complicated movie ever made. See, the pajama party is really being thrown by a crook, his idiot sidekick, and an Indian (casino, not 7-11) who want to rob the house where the kids would normally be hanging out. To make it seem legit the crooks hire these bikers to pretend to be other kids at the party, but the bikers have like this long-standing beef with the good kids so a huge fucking brawl breaks out. Oh yeah, and Mars is about to invade the Earth. As if all that isn't enough: a bunch of ERA broads get run over during a car chase (Ha ha! Those crazy bitches and their "equality", am I right?); the main chick sings a love song to her stuffed animals and one of them comes to life and winks at her (they really should've followed up on this); there's a huge picture of Hitler hanging on the wall at the pool hall for absolutely no reason; and as I previously mentioned there is indescribably fine snatch everywhere, the primo piece being Orange Bikini Girl, who's so fucking hot that at the very end she melts.

I hate to admit it, but this movie rocks.

Don't worry, baby; I can hold my breath a long, long time.