The one thing during this chaos that I just could never grasp happened in the scene with those bar idiot Gremlins. The ones that take over the local pub and get shit-faced. Here they are cuttin' loose with Phoebe Cates, getting completely hammered, guzzlin' beer and hanging off ceiling fans and shit, when suddenly you start seeing some Gremlins dressed up. Over there in the corner you got your jazz-listening, beret-wearin' bebop Gremlin. You've got Gremlins in drag. Gremlins shooting guns. Gremlins with trenchcoats flashing their naked Gremlin bodies. There's this especially disturbing scene with this "Flashdance" Gremlin. This thing's got those pink aerobic tube socks, the spandex, headband, all that crap, and is just goin' to town breakin' to some cheesy 80's dance music. I'm guessing this was a female Gremlin. This, or some of the dude Gremlins just got bored with reproducing purely male clones (offspring? I don't know what to call those things) and decided to go Tranny-Gremlin.

Do Gremlins sew?? And how do they suddenly have this vast knowledge of clothes-wearing anyway? I mean, that would NEVER happen... the Gremlins part, yes, that absolutely makes sense; weirder things have occurred. But those miniature outfits? NEVER. Come on, Spielberg. Everything was going so well, too. I mean, Gremlins are going to kill people, YES. Gremlins can learn to drive a snowplow through a house, YES, can't be that hard. Gremlins can acquire an affinity towards cigarettes and beer within the course of hours, YES, YES, we've all been there. But mini-outfits??? I just can't buy that. I'm callin' bullshit on the Gremlin mini-attire.
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