There was an H.R. Pufnstuf movie? For those of you who aren't exactly sure what an H.R. Pufnstuf is, don't expect to be enlightened here. I mean yeah, I've heard the name and shit, but until just a few years ago I'd assumed it was some sort of discontinued snack cake. Even now all I really know is that he used to have his own TV show, and he sued Ronald McDonald once. At any rate, his movie starts with some teabag-sucking kid who dresses like a mod Crocodile Dundee and spends the vast majority of his time running around the woods singing songs about friendship, with a lisp. I hated his slime-soaked guts immediately. Before long the little cocksucker ends up on this magical island full of chintzy puppets and singing, dancing imbeciles, where a witch steals his magic flute (Did I mention that he has a magic flute? He has a magic flute.) by disguising herself as a hippie dance instructor. At least the way the kid and his friends get the flute back is refreshingly direct- they beat the witch up. That's not the end of it though: she bombs the good guys' village like it was a Iraqi orphanage, they call on their power to control the weather, she changes into a giant flower and shrinks everybody, they instigate a riot... It's what you call an escalation of hostilities. There's also a Nazi rat (in full-on SS gear); Mama Ass from the Mama's & the Papa's shows up (lying in a bathtub full of food and eating, just like in real life. Well, I assume.); and of course everyone involved is constantly running around, falling down, and screaming at the top of their lungs. The whole thing is like a spastic, drug-fueled nightmare. A lazy hack would say that it's like watching [fill in the blank] on acid, but I think it's probably more like the last thing you see when you die, assuming that you're dying alone, angry, and with all of your dreams unfulfilled.

Points for breaking out the phrase "you rotten limey hag" though. I can't even tell you how many times I yelled that while watching the royal wedding.