Courtesy of Destructoid, comes this mind-blowingly strange indie Space Invaders flick. Three letters come to mind watching it: W, T and yes a big, fat, F. I might even throw in a couple of fancy exclamation points.

What the hell is with the voice over? What the hell is with the hair? What the hell is with the kitchen gloves? And just what the hell is with that sock puppet invader in the beggining of this six-minute voyage into bad acting, no plot and, yes, bad lip syncing to an ABBA song.

How can one song attack so many things I love at the same time? Brian Crecente

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