While the quality of that effect is dramatically exaggerated and unsettling, at least it somehow correlates to the visual.

In another scene, a giant starfish sweeps over the ocean floor as the aforementioned rubber strip once more whips across your ankles, which is startling yes, but also confusing.

The nonsense of the theater’s shock value is at its height when a blunt prodding device inside the back of your chair jabs you in the back at the same time as something otherwise benign appears in front of your eyes. Truly, the only thing that would actually match this effect, would be the visual of a crazy old man holding a stick, muttering ” I am The Mad Back Poker What Pokes at Midnight, yeah baby!”.

Afterwards, perhaps as a consolation to the audience’s mottled disappointment, we were treated to a bonus feature, Muffin: The 4D Experience.

Bouncy, poppy, cartoon music jumps around the room as a beautiful HD 3D muffin slowly struts it beautiful crannied parts all about the screen. We, the audience, are mesmerized, a dumb grin on our face seeping salacious saliva, our eyes making such strongly collected love to the moist meats of the muffin that everyone is caught by surprise as the 4th dimension comes into play.

A cold steel restraint tightly secures the right arm to the chair as gleaming cleavers rise from behind and slam down dully over and over until the appendages are separated from the audience.

Through our demented horror-show pain we are somehow still sharply critical and wonder what the hell that has to do with a muffin yet also immediately resolve never to trust a muffin again so long as we live.

Screaming bloody murder and litigious obscenities, we are quickly placated as nanobots filter through the room exploding with quantumn colors of distraction as they quickly cure our wounds and the theater further attempts to heal the hole in our souls by treating us to The Fifth Dimension singing the soothing new-agey soul of Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In (The Flesh Failures).

Our hands still missing, but our hearts in the right place, robed in white and the 3D glasses having grown into flowers in our hair, we leave the theater with a better sense of the collective self, make a right at the Penguin pen and find ourselves in Utopia.

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