Alien Resurrection ★½

Let's say you're riding a bike. You ride by the local candy store, waving to the local elderly couple making bank off of the giving of cavities to children. You ride downtown, witnessing a live concert and the general atmosphere of a sunny afternoon. You ride by a local pizza place, smelling the delectable cheeses being melted and watching the delivery guy carry 15 pies stacked up on top of one another.

The day is perfect.

You join up with a friend. The friend is a troublemaker. He's always the one bringing a fart noisemaker everywhere he goes and he somehow finds the time to tepee every house on Halloween. He's a cool guy though. As you're going down the many houses in the vast neighborhood, your friend stops. He gets off his bike, starts jumping up and down happily, and points to a pile of dogshit. Of course, you tell your friend to let it go, but he takes out a brown bag (that he always carries along with him) and flicks the dogshit into the bag via tree branch. You know what he wants to do. He wants to light it on fire and set it on the door step of some cranky old citizen, but you talk him out of the idea.

Shrugging, your friend throws the bag of dogshit quite recklessly, and as it tumbles down the street, the shit falls out. Something catches your eye. The dogshit isn't brown, it isn't any other disgusting color; It's sparkly! It's interesting! It's beautiful! It's mesmerizing!

And then reality sets in. It slowly dawns on you. Shit is shit, no matter how charming.

Ladies and gentleman, Alien: Resurrection.

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