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Wes Craven's Fridge. Yes, the plot is about as epic as you'd imagine. Suffice it to say, the refrigerator is full of demons. Hypothermia-related injuries to all manner of townspeople ensues. Eventually, the compressor overheats and the thing just falls over in the woods, where local children begin beating it with sticks. The movie is rated R for strong, racially-themed language; extended scenes of nudity involving food; drug use peppered throughout and violence towards kitchen appliances.
If you knew you were playing prep school basketball with the future president of the United States, what would you do? Personally, I'd gather two of my most trusted friends when the crowd had gone home after a hot, sweaty home game and we'd murder him behind the bleachers with sacrificial daggers. Dragging his body into the woods, we'd make an enormous bonfire and eat his heart while chanting prayers to the Greek god of power, Cratus. That way, I could consume Barry Obama's spirit and become president. My friends would become the vice president and postmaster general. The kid who becomes postmaster general clearly recited the prayer wrong. Cratus isn't the forgiving type.
