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Spacing Out

By Jessica Dorman

Inner Space

Directed by Joe Dante

Most people tend to cringe,

At the thought of a syringe,

Yet injections are the stuff,

On which movie plots can hinge.

Martin Short plays clerk Jack Putter,

Spends his life a-bagging butter,

Fruits and veggies, Wonder Bread,

`Going crazy!' he does mutter.

So poor Putter opts to snooze,

On a restful ocean cruise,

At a mall he buys his tickets,

But we know he's bound to lose.

For elsewhere in the city,

Evil scientists, lacking pity,

Have trashed their rivals' lab;

And the bloodshed is not pretty.

In the lab, before the break-in,

History was in the makin'.

A band of good guys, clever folk,

Had perfected miniaturization.

And their subject, Dennis Quaid,

Lt. Tuck Pendleton, he played,

Rode his snazzy high-tech sub,

into a centrifuge they'd made.

Power on! The craft it spun,

Bright lights blinded everyone,

And when all the fuss subsided,

Tuck was smaller than Tom Thumb.

Here's the trick--Tuck had shrunk,

And with a miniscule kerplunk,

Pilot and craft oozed through tubes,

Into a vial of bluish gunk.

When the bad guys stormed the room,

Zoom-a zoom-a zoom-zoom-zoom,

The project leader grabbed the vial,

Lest the sub become Tuck's tomb.

This good leader, Ozzie by name,

Scampered till he reached the same,

Shopping mall where wimpy Putter,

Wandered, listless, oh so tame.

And then came the fateful showdown:

For the bad guys had the lowdown.

On old Ozzie's every movement:

They had targeted him to mow down.

Gunshots range throughout the air,

Ozzie slumped and people stared.

But as he fell he took the vial,

And jabbed Putter's derriere.

Thus the liquid holding Tuck.

Into Putter had been stuck,

So a comedy is born!

Guaranteed to raise a yuk.

Tuck and Putter must be friends.

If they are to get revenge.

Though they both love the same woman.

They must try to make amends.

We see Putter's optic nerve.

(Through his bloodstream Tuck does swerve).

While outside, the bad' uns lurk,

Will they get what they deserve?

To reveal the caper's finish.

Your pleasure would diminish.

Just remember that it's summer.

And your brain needs something dim-ish.

So take off your thinking caps.

Watch Tuck navigate with maps.

Through an Inner Space of humor.

That will please savants and saps.

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