Luckily for Josh, a sexy and ambitious toy executive in the person of Elizabeth Perkins is happy to lend a hand.

Wait, Something's Not Right Here...

The words "illegal," "immoral" and "icky" spring immediately to mind. Remember, Josh made that wish to be "big" because he was sick of waiting around for puberty. We would give the writers the benefit of the doubt and assume it just slipped their minds that this was (mentally and emotionally) a pre-pubescent kid being seduced by a 30-something woman. Then again, it seems hard to miss when Josh's big love scene comes right after the scene where he celebrates his 13th birthday. With his 13-year-old best friend.

It's not like they're even trying to hide the fact that their seemingly grown-up protagonist is still a child. Hell, his childlike manner was what attracted Perkins in the first place, which just adds another little layer to the already creepy romance.

Pictured: Completely natural, totally grown-up and in no way childish foreplay.

The Romance:

Let's face it, any other guy who had his eyes on Lois Lane never stood a chance. She was seeing a tall, good looking guy with a chiseled frame and, oh yeah, he could fly and bench press several Mack trucks. It's kind of hard to compete with that, and even harder to compete with a guy who can fly around the world so fast he actually reverses its rotation, sending everything back in time in order to save her life. That makes your roses and box of chocolate look like a big pile of shit.

Wait, Something's Not Right Here...

You'll probably remember that one of the catch phrases they always use to introduce Superman, right after all the "faster than a speeding bullet" stuff, is "strange visitor from another planet." You know, as in, he's not from Earth. As in, he's not a human being.

Sure, he looks like a human man, thanks to whatever one in a quadrillion coincidence of evolution caused life on Krypton to look just like ours. And he's got a presumably working humanoid dong, but that doesn't change anything. Lois Lane fucked an alien.

Like this, only a little less furry.

Despite appearances, Superman's physiology is so radically different from ours (ie, he can take a shotgun blast to the eyeball without blinking) that biologically Lois would be closer to a donkey. So, yes, it's like some kind of some kind of space bestiality.

Wait, no. Not "like bestiality." It is bestiality. And, considering Superman's immeasurable, godlike superiority, Lois is the beast in this equation.

It's not often that you can get away with making a breezy comedy about a hillbilly kidnapping and enslaving an heiress while portraying the hillbilly as the protagonist, but that's exactly what happened here. Sure, it's played off as being all in good fun to teach Goldie a valuable lesson about respecting all people and yadda yadda yadda, but still. Kidnapping.

You could sort of call it brainwashing, too. And, in a way, when she finally warms up to him and they knock boots, you could kind of call that rape. After all, you could make a solid argument that the decision was less free will and more Stockholm Syndrome.

Pictured: Courting.

We're not meant to think about it in these terms because Kurt is just a gruff carpenter with four children to feed, while Goldie is the snotty bitch who hired him to do $600 of carpentry work, treated him like crap and then pushed him out of a boat without paying him. But we can't recall the last kidnapping case where the old "but she owed me money!" defense kept anybody out of prison.

The Romance:

When Death comes knocking at your door, your day probably isn't going to end well. Unless, of course, you're a wise, experienced and intriguing guy like Anthony Hopkins, and you have a hot daughter like Claire Forlani. Mostly, it's the hot daughter thing.

The daughter is hot enough to make the Grim Reaper dress up in Brad Pitt's body and learn important lessons about life and love. And also have sex with Claire Forlani.

Wait, Something's Not Right Here...

Where to start? Oh, right. Claire fucks Death.

And, somehow, it only gets worse the more you think about it. Beyond riding the boner of the embodiment of death itself, she does it while he also happens to be riding around in a fresh human corpse. So there's kind of a necrophilia angle. Also, it's the corpse of a guy she was flirting with right before he died. That's not exactly fair play. It's sort of like trying to seduce a chick by murdering her boyfriend and wearing his skin.

To make it even worse, Death is still hanging out with Anthony Hopkins, constantly reminding him that he could take his life at any moment.

"But, I'm not going to kill you until after I've banged your daughter. Suck on that."

In the end, Death brings Brad Pitt's corpse back to life, giving him the chance to start flirting with Claire Forlani all over again, unaware that she's already had sex with his dead body. Oh, and this seems to all be happening only a few yards from her father's still-warm carcass.

When Swayze's character dies, even that isn't enough to get in the way of true love. He spends most of the movie trying to communicate with her from beyond the grave and keep her safe from her new psychotic boyfriend.

Finally, the couple are reunited with the help of a psychic medium played by Whoopi Goldberg. Swayze is finally able to tell Demi Moore how much he loves her (or "Ditto," or whatever) and warn her not to have sex with the man who killed him.

Then, Whoopi lets Swayze's spirit enter her body so that he can have one last dance with the woman he loves.

Awww...

Wait, Something's Not Right Here...

Uh...

Jesus Christ, Demi, keep your fucking libido in check! That's still Whoopi Goldberg!

As members of the audience, we're seeing Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze, so it's easy to forget who's doing what, but try to keep this in mind: Demi Moore is having an intimate moment with the body of Whoopi Goldberg, and if the villain doesn't start banging on the door soon, it's pretty clear Whoopi's going to fuck Demi right there on the living room floor.

Now, we're big fans of girl-on-girl action and, in fact, if you went back through every Patrick Swayze love scene from all of his movies and digitally replaced him with another woman, we'd add an entire star to the review scores. But this isn't just "another woman," this is the somewhat terrifying, eyebrow-less Whoopi Goldberg...

...who's about to make sweet love to Demi Moore. If Swayze's evil best friend had burst in without knocking a few minutes later, would he have walked in on Whoopi going down on the girl he'd been hitting on? Would his penis have leaped from his body and hurled itself out the window?

But more importantly, you have to remember that Whoopi was possessed by the man half of a heterosexual couple--a man who used to having a penis. So how would that work? Would the lack of a penis break the romantic illusion? Was Swayze sexually aroused by his wife? How did that manifest itself in his now female body, and how fucking weird must that have been for him? Would the spirit of his penis have been able to inhabit, say, a dildo, and relay sensation as if it was his own member?

We really, really need to stop thinking about this right now.

Wait, Something's Not Right Here...

Bella is a 17-year-old girl. Edward is a 108-year-old man.

What in the hell could they possibly have in common, besides the fact that they both go to high school? And, now that we mention it, why is this man STILL GOING TO FUCKING HIGH SCHOOL?!?! What could he possibly be getting out of the experience?

Oh.

You have to wonder: How many high schools has Edward attended? How many high school girls have mooned over him? And here's the real question that we've been dancing around: How many Bellas have there been? After all, a man doesn't go to high school for 90 years without dating.

"You are my life, now... even more than that bitch who dumped me when she went away to Wash U."

We're guessing that this guy has the creepiest scrapbook ever.

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For more head-scratching nonsense from Hollywood, check out 6 Magical Movie Items They Wasted on Bullshit and 6 Movie Plots Made Possible by Bafflingly Bad Decisions.

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