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The vast, deserted movie lot of a once-prominent Hollywood film studio is home to a vicious group of furry, grinning, toothy little aliens who read their victims' minds and kill them by making their dreams come true. But I've got this week's show to talk about, so I'll get back to that situation later.
I'm kidding, of course. That IS the story of Hobgoblins. There's a lot more, too. Why, there's a nerd who's really into phone sex; a mean guy with a van who delights in beating up his friends; a wiry slut with a perpetual sneer and her uptight never-been-blanked friend; an old janitor, a bad nightclub emcee, and a hairy bouncer, and all this disparate crew are united by two very important things: they can't act and I don't care about them.
Neither will you, once you've seen this movie.
Oh, I forgot, there's our requisite hero who doesn't do anything. Other than that I can't remember anything about him.
Just so this summary does its job, here's the basic outline: These hobgoblins escape the studio, follow a rookie security guard home, and all his friends are nearly killed by their perverted fantasies. Following a long scene at a "strip" club that simply does not fulfill its stated premise, the hobgoblins somehow get back to the studio (I honestly forget how and I refuse to go look) where a crotchety older security guard who's been keeping them trapped for decades saves the day by blowing them up.
Which, of course, begs the question as to why he didn't do that a long time ago, but you won't have enough energy to ask that question, believe me.
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