We start out with Cyndi’s mom sitting in her kitchen, cracking eggs into a bowl for no apparent reason. Odd music is playing and Mom keeps looking at her watch, so we know she has issues. Cut to Cyndi, wearing one of her trademark what-the-hell outfits and strutting along a sidewalk. Then we ping back and forth between Mom violating poultry products and Cyndi still strutting and performing dance moves that are very questionable.
Cyndi finally makes it home, and prances into the kitchen where Mom is none too pleased about Cyndi’s late arrival. Cyndi decides that the best way to handle this is to start singing to her mother while being overly dramatic and squatting a lot. Cyndi does a really special move which causes her mother to smash an egg against her chest and a box of Corn Flakes (is that Mikey on the front?) to fall over. Cyndi is WAY talented.
Cyndi then sashays her way down a hallway, still dancing or possibly just losing control of her motor skills. The phone rings, in the middle of the night, and Cyndi, now magically appearing in bad-choice sleepwear, tries to answer it. But her efforts are rudely stopped by her dad, who likes to wave his finger a lot and not exercise. Cyndi is really not in the mood for late-night lectures, so she strong-arms her dad (who weighs roughly 400 times her own body mass) up against a wall. Daddy then runs down the hall because he can‘t remember what he‘s supposed to do next in the script.
Cyndi finally gets to answer the ringing phone (after she remembers how such a thing works), and we are treated to a montage of all her friends that are calling. All of them are in serious need of a stylist and most of them think it’s really sexy to open their mouths as wide as possible, even though it’s not pleasing at all. (At least one of them is clearly an alcoholic, and another one seems to have issues with hygiene, scrubbing away in a shower whilst wearing an unflattering cap.)
Then we cut to a rousing tribute to the “Brady Bunch” opening credits, with Cyndi and her questionable friends doing a 9-square formation. They are bopping their heads around like it’s the best time ever, but you know they did this scene at least 20 times and they all secretly hate each other at this point, with aggressive hair-weaves poking everybody in the eye. This transitions into a bubbly animated sequence, with things flying about, breaking up and then reforming. (This is probably the part where somebody on the film crew who took a lot of drugs said “Hey, I have an idea!”)
Back to Cyndi sitting in front of an obviously fake TV, where we are treated to ancient black-and-white footage of Bigfoot snatching some girl and heading into a tower. Luckily, we don’t spend much time dwelling on that, and cut to Cyndi and her asymmetrical hairdo bellowing more of the song. Now we have another montage of Cyndi and her random friends trying on sunglasses, interspersed with more “Brady Bunch” tomfoolery. (I think they’re trying to row a boat, not sure.) This goes on for much longer than it should, even if somebody spent a lot of time on the choreography.
Now we have Cyndi in another outfit, one that looks extremely painful for her breasts, as she leads her troupe of manic friends down a sidewalk. We seem to have a lot of construction workers and people who generally like wearing flannel. Cyndi’s gal-pals are really excited about this part, so I’m guessing they didn’t get a lot of attention in high school.
Next thing you know, Cyndi is leading her posse out of a subway station, even though the previous scene was not underground and trains were not involved. Oh wait, now we seem to be at a courthouse, even though it’s fairly clear that none of these dancing people are lawyers. Cyndi’s Twirling Troupe then storms an odd restaurant where anal-retentive citizens just want to read the paper and not have floozies dancing in the vicinity. For whatever reason, the patrons of this restaurant decide to join Cyndi’s Gang, even though they are inappropriately dressed and they don’t know the words to the song.
The growing parade of Cyndi-lovers troops down the street and into Cyndi’s house, where Momma is still sitting in the same chair at the kitchen table and Daddy is wearing an African print that does nothing to conceal his fondness for fried-grease products. The parents have given up on ever trying to get Cyndi to do something better with her life, so they let Cyn and her 40,000 friends dance through the house and toward her bedroom. (At one point, Cyndi stumbles and slams against the wall of said dwelling, so I’m guessing the spirits were flowing freely during this shoot.)
Everybody piles into Cyndi’s bedroom, an action that is probably very familiar to Mom and Dad. Cyndi keeps bouncing and welcoming her hundreds of guests. She then puts a record on her puny turntable, which prompts delivery men to arrive bearing pizza boxes. Everybody is having a very excellent time, manically dancing and such, until some guy shows up wearing a tuxedo and asking for Cyndi.
Who the hell is he? Oh, who cares.
Cut to Cyndi’s parents in the kitchen. They don’t have a clue what to do with their demon offspring, but they wave their hands about a lot during the heated discussion, so they’re probably Italian. They march down the hall to Cyndi’s Boudoir de Crazy, and Daddy peaks through the keyhole. He spies his little girl planting a smooch on the Tuxedo Guy, so he naturally opens the door to stop further sinning, and 375 people fall out of said doorway and presumably Daddy is crushed to death for wearing a muumuu at the wrong time.
The party in Cyndi’s room continues, with everybody VERY happy about everything. Confetti is thrown, bouncing is predominant, and total strangers have sex to the relentless rhythm of the song. We fade out as Cyndi jumps jubilantly to the beat. Dancing is so much more fun than getting a job or paying for your own outfits. Woo hoo!
Back in the kitchen, Mom continues to crack eggs for an omelet the size of Manhattan…
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