Guess what, guys: my mom’s boyfriend just bought me the new Sonic the Hedgehog game! I am so psyched. Seriously, I played it for the first time last night, and I can tell you that this is the coolest Sonic adventure yet.

It’s a little bit weird to play at first, but I think it's just one those games you have to get into before you can really appreciate it—you know, like Final Fantasy, or Pac Man. I can't play the game before sundown because Sonic is a nocturnal video game character. And I guess fighting Dr. Robotnik's animatronic army wipes him out, because I can only really play the game for like, one or two hours a day. After that Sonic stops following my controller and begins gorging himself on roots, pond scum and certain North American grubs. Then he falls asleep in a burrow of his own feces for 22 hours. It’s sort of a drag, but at least Sonic likes to party—this dude eats entire patches of mushrooms in the middle of the woods.

Sonic also has some new techniques for fighting the bad guys. He doesn’t spin or jump anymore. Now he covers his genitals and lets out a high-pitched squeal until his predators scatter away. Sometimes he’ll crouch into a ball, produce a thick, foul-smelling, foamy substance from his mouth, and spread it all over his body with his tongue. I have no idea why.

Anyway, I’d better get back. I haven’t even beaten the first boss yet, and Sonic doesn’t like slackers. The manaul says he kills and eats his weakest offspring.

DR. DOOM: —Mr. Fantastic! You have received my demand for world domination. Are you prepared to call me master? Or shall I be forced to activate the Omega Turbine and cause further destruction to your beloved planet?

MR. FANTASTIC (on an enormous video monitor): You're a madman, von Doom. A complete and utter madman! But... we accept your terms.

DR. DOOM: Insipid fool! Then your death await— Wha...? I am sorry, what did you say?

MR. FANTASTIC: You win, Dr. Doom. I've received unconditional surrenders from every sovereign nation on Earth. Congratulations, oh Exalted One!

DR. DOOM: Really? Wow. (Laughs nervously.) This is, um... it is just so unexpected. Unless— Of course! This is some clever rouse to buy time while you formulate a plan to stop me! A noble effort, but you are only delaying the inevitable!

MR. FANTASTIC: No, you're Omnipotence. In fact, the militaries of the world are being flown to your Terror Zeppelin as we speak. They're part of you Extermination Force now. Obviously, the soldiers will require food and lodging.

DR. DOOM: Oh, I see. (Feigning confidence.) Yes, of course. Then I... I have done it... Victory is mine. This is totally what I wanted.

MR. FANTASTIC: I've also taken the liberty of delivering you a list of the agricultural and socio-economic statistics of the Northern Hemisphere.

DR. DOOM: What?

MR. FANTASTIC: Yes, I thought it might be too much to send you all the world economies on your first day, Lord Doom. After all, you are only human—and ten percent demon, of course! (Laughs.)

5) DUTCH, Predator (1987)
Issue: Immigration
What our borders need aren't New Mexican weekend warriors with loaded Remingtons and too much free time. They need Schwarzenegger to fly Apollo Creed south of the border to fight Central American guerrillas and an extraterrestrial sporting some gnarly dreadlocks.

4) JULIUS BENEDICT, Twins (1988)
Issue: Stem-Cell Research
Pundits from the religious right can argue all day about the morality of tampering with the human genome, but genetic science that yields the kind of odd-couple antics Schwarzenegger and co-star Danny DeVito get into in this film puts the "play" back in playing God.

How goes it, ladies and germs? It's great to be back at CollegeHumor, just fantastic. The name's Marty, but everyone calls me "The Rib-Tickler." You know, I used to kill at this joint. Then in '72 they gave Marty the ol' heave-ho. According to the fat cats upstairs, my gags were growing a little stale. "You want stale?" I told them, "Try my wife's cooking!"

I'll tell you the straight truth: Getting 86-ed was the best thing that ever happened to this old showman. These days I'm hosting a dynamite variety show Tuesdays and Thursdays up at Foxwoods. Sure, they pay me in buffet vouchers and I have to be off the stage by 7 o'clock to make room for some fruity Polish circus, but I get to score some knock-out grass from the Native Americans working the Keno booth.

Meanwhile, CH's material is dead in the water—and that's two cents you can take to the bank, ladies and germs. I got four decades in this biz under my belt, and if there's one thing I know, it's comedy. Where are all the motorized bowties? When's the last time someone spat out a glass of water because his wife crashed the Studebaker? I'll tell you where they are: six feet under, with all the greats of yesteryear—Donnie Rickman, "Crazy" Rodney Mershowitz, the Dancin' Thompson brothers.

These new kids couldn't joke their way out of a cardboard box. And I should know—I lived in one in the back of a Burbank Sam's Club for a brief period in the mid '80s after an open mic I was hosting fired me for doing my classic blackface routine. I don't get it. That bit used to bring the house down at Jackie's Joke Barn. If smearing shoe polish across your mug and singing "Camptown Races" while doing a soft shoe doesn't get a laugh anymore, then this biz is in serious trouble.

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"Slime" replaced with sulfuric acid

Mark Summers given loaded gun

Electric eels released into Obstacle Course swimming pool

Audience filled with convicted murderers

Red and Blue "teams" identified as Crips and Bloods

Losing team stabbed

Grand-prize trip to Orlando, Florida detoured to Gaza Strip

Contract taken out on announcer John Harvey's life

Whatup, little dude? Say what?! You made it to college? Man, I remember when you were a pimple-faced freshman straight out of junior high. It's one of the few things I do remember from back in school, if you know what I mean. You know that overwhelming odor of marijuana emanating from the second-floor boy's bathroom? Well, let's just say you have yours truly and six semesters of the Shire's finest pipe weed to thank for that aroma. That restroom was my home away from home. And for a few weeks after I threatened mom's boyfriend with a steak knife, it was my home. What, you think that sweet IROC-Z Camaro drawing carved itself into that stall door? If you do I'll have to start calling you Barbarino from Welcome Back, Kotter, 'cause you're "so confused!"

Man, I wish I had a teach' like Mr. Kotter back then. Not like that son of a bitch I had for phys-ed junior year, Coach McDougal. One day I just couldn't take his BS anymore and gave that fascist a grade-A haymaker to the jaw. Why? Maybe because Denise had broken up with me behind the Arby's the night before. Maybe because I'd just seen The Breakfast Club and had enough of, you know, like, the totalitarian regime of the educational system and junk. Or maybe it was those mysterious pills Jimmy Brenner from metal shop gave me--the ones that upped my testosterone and signifigently impaired my judgement. I guess we'll never know.

1. Shaggy: "Take Off That Silver Unitard"

2. 98 Degrees: "Beware them Morlocks, Y'all"

3. Spice Girls: "You Own My Heart Like the Robot Overlords Own My Eyes and Tongue"

4. Limp Bizkit: "Tonight We're Gonna Eat Like It's 1999"

5. Blink 182: "The Lucky Ones Died First"

6. Everclear: "Dry Land is Not a Myth"

7. Smash Mouth: "Do You Recall When It Was We Who Hunted the Birds?"

8. Aaron Carter: "The Taste of Human Flesh Shall Haunt Me Forever"

9. Sisqó: "He Who Holds the Doomsday Key Rules the Tribe"

10. Hanson: "MMMBop (Remix)"