Spooky things start to "happen" in Central Park as folk stop in mid-stride, overwhelmed by the idea of Mark Wahlberg and his general pointlessness. Let's face it, that would stop just about anybody in their tracks. I defy you to try it: take a pleasant saunter in the park today and then ponder this
"Funky bunch.... WHY???"
"First on our list of demands: take away the SAG card. Second...."
Wahlberg plays a high school science teacher. He wears a sweater vest and furrows a lot. ACTING. It just so happens he's the world's best chance to stop the salads from rising up.
"A really nice Roquefort is a good way to combat an unruly romaine. Trust me. I know science stuff."
Thinking that it's all happening because of Al-Qaeda and not iceberg, the residents of NYC flee--only to find Wahlberg waiting for them. There's no winning.
"How about I sing the angry salad a twee song, honey?"
By the end, we learn that shit happens--namely, really shitty screenplays starring Mark Wahlberg.
"Man, I wish I hadn't sold my prosthetic from Boogie Nights on Ebay...."