Come closer and I shall sing you a song of pain.Deciding that this hellfont of ancient native magic is none of my business, I slam the door shut behind me and run from the home. But when I reach the front door, I find to my horror that it is shut, the deadbolt locked tight. Behind me I hear the horrible, grating voice of Tom Hanks, cackling as he drops a key--clearly the only key to the house--into the back of Hamm, the piggy bank. I'm trapped. Immediately I wonder how many other movers have met the same fate as me; whether this family is cursed to forever lure manual laborers to their suburban tract home/feeding pit. I am about to die. But as that realization starts to sink in, a strange energy comes over me. A fire forms in my bowels, and a rod of steel and hate forms where my spine should be. For a single, glorious moment, I can perceive the design of the universe, and my place within it. I shouldn't be afraid of toys. They should be afraid of me. I take a couple seconds to form a plan... _________
Plenty of everyday things have weird connections to the Nazis.
The thing about plot twists is that they almost never make sense on repeat viewing.
Sometimes the silliest goofballs get away with the vilest things.