On a dark desert highway, cool wind in his hair, warm smell of colidas, rising up through the air. Up ahead in the distance, he saw a shimmering light his head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, he had to stop for the night. There she stood in the doorway; he heard the mission bell And he was thinking to himself, this could be heaven or this could be hell Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way There were voices down the corridor, he thought he heard them say... Welcome To The Hotel California, Jews and Zombies not welcome.
The bellhop will be with you in a moment to take your bags. Once, you check in, sir, you can never check out! Grab your gun! Seafood buffet at 7, Drinks at 9, Death sometime around 12:30.
Here comes Bruce Willis to save the pansy little lead character in the dark rimmed glasses (is it Buddy Holly?). Nope, everyone dies.