Two middle-aged film reviewers, Peter and Janet, sit in a theater. They are waiting for “High School Musical 3: Senior Year” to begin.
PETER (with cigarette): You ready for this turdpile?
JANET: It was squeezed out by Kenny Ortega and his Disney laborers in five weeks. That’s five rank weeks of pubescent tween labor, all right? Give it a chance!
PETER (guffawing): I hope my guffawing is enough of a response to that asinine statement.
The lights dim and the film starts. The first shot appears: Zac Efron’s sweaty face.
PETER (shifting uncomfortably): This is… incredible.
JANET: Another basketball scene with Zac as Troy. As if we haven’t seen enough in the past two movies.
PETER: Are all high-schoolers this beautiful?
JANET: Are you talking about Gabriella up there in the stands?
PETER: No, I… yes.
JANET: That’s Vanessa Hudgens. She’s Efron’s lover in real life too, you know. Life imitates art. Here’s the first song.
PETER: Troy sings and shoots simultaneously. This is better than “Teen Wolf”!
JANET: But he can’t dance forever. He should play a deranged Icelandic transvestite in his next movie. You know, to mix things up. Otherwise he won’t progress as an actor.
Time passes. Near the midpoint of the movie, Troy is singing alone in his high school at night.
JANET: This is a dungheap of a soliloquy, no mistake.
PETER (drooling): Look at him sing! He’s so anxious about the future and college, and the only way he can express himself is in song! It’s like… that’s me up there!
JANET: Don’t be so narcissistic.
PETER: Oh Zac, don’t cry!
JANET: You’re weeping on my dress.
PETER: Fate, you whore, why do you have to drag this immaculate boy through your own stool?!
JANET: People are looking.
PETER: Oh Janet, I’m so lonely! I can’t bear it anymore! I’m tired of singing to myself in the mirror naked! Oh why can’t I be young again!?
Peter runs to the front of the theater. He throws himself against the screen in an attempt to be one with the film. He fails.