Last Sunday I got a knock on my door with a special surprise waiting for me.

Behind the door were Breeny and Brienie, two identically tan non-identical blondes with the most awesome out-of-control dark roots I had ever seen.

They both had these huge melons and I was impressed.

It was obvious they had just shopped at the Farmer's market down the street from my house.

"Mr. E?" they said in unison. It was like listening to Mary Kate Olsen if she had an identical twin.

"Uhhh.... yes?" I said, pausing to close my bathrobe. After all, it was 3:45 PM and I had been up late the previous night fighting crime.

"I'm Breeny," one said.

"I'm Brienie", the other said.

"Like the cheese?" I asked.

"Do I like what cheese?" Brienie responded.

I flicked the sleep-boogers (bogies, for you UK readers) out of the corners of my eyes.

"What...what do you want?"

"We want to give you something," one (Breeny maybe) said, twisting coquettishly, like Denise Richards in the post carwash scene in 1998's WILD THINGS.

I started to close the door on their Casabas. I coughed.

"I'm good, really", I said gruffly.

"We have a scrip," the other one said, biting her pinky like she was prepping for a Maxim magazine shoot.

"You mean a script?" I asked, now almost interested in something besides watching their dark roots grow in the bright wash of sunlight that was caressing their orange skin.

"Scrip-tuh?" Brienie (I think) questioned. "Really? The T isn't silen__, like it is in the song "Silen Nigh?"

"Lemme see," I barked.

They handed over the script. It was wrapped in cellophane.

"What's with the shrink wrap?"  I asked.

"We wanted to keep it fresh!" they responded.

"Thanks," I said. "Now scram! Go bug some other Internet script-reviewing guy. "It's almost time for Matlock!"

They fled, their blondish ponytails bouncing from side to side like a pair of Brady girls.

"Who was that?" asked Mrs. E, emerging from our office.

"Oh nobody," I said "late Christmas carol singers."

I closed the door, plunked down on the couch, unwrapped the script and read the title:

I WANT TO F--- YOUR SISTER

To quote Hellboy: "Oh Crap!"

I WANT TO F--- YOUR SISTER is the name of the script.

Really.

I was so insulted by this title that I could hardly think straight.

Two Tylenols later and once my head stopped spinning, I started reading and quickly discovered the script for I WANT TO F--- YOUR SISTER has one problem: the script.

Okay, so it's not a reprehensible piece of dreck like SUMMER'S END (review pending-write your congressman), but rather, it's just too stupid for its own good.

How stupid is I WANT TO F--- YOUR SISTER?

Where to start...hmmm.

Let's start at the beginning - SPOILERS AHEAD!

The movie starts with MANDY leaving her over-worried parents PAMELA and LARRY, at the Mumford, MA train station for The Big Apple New York City. Good girl MANDY (think Nancy Drew without the preachiness or the meddling or the annoying over-reliance on skirt suits) is off to visit her big brother: hotshot broker DREW. Before I get to him, let me stay with MANDY. She gets on the train, waves bye-bye to the parental units, and takes off her sweater, doffs her glasses and shakes her hair loose from its tight ponytail, gives a killer smile to some lucky dude on the train and...!

She arrives in The Big Apple (surprise, surprise) gets all of her stuff stolen. This unfortunate turn (but, let's face it, completely expected) of events introduces LAUREL MCMICHAELS, the nicest beat cop in all of NYC, and according to the script, she has ...street smarts.

Now to DREW. He's the kind of guy you'd expect to find doing cocaine off a dead or dying stripper. He's not, because this movie doesn't know if it's a PG-13 or an R rated flick. Yes, he's at a strip joint, and yes, he's entertaining clients, and yes, he's completely forgotten about MANDY.

Funny, yes?

No.

She gets to his bachelor pad and, it's a mess with pizza boxes, empty bottles, dirty clothes and porn strewn everywhere.

Wow. I never would've guessed that.

Then, there's a MANDY-cleaning-the-apartment-montage, complete with her chucking the sponge at DREW's head, and then, there's totally, the shopping-in-New York-montage.

There is one good thing about the script here. After we get the stupid cleaning-DREW's apartment montage, his newly MANDY cleaned and decorated bachelor pad is described as having candles and flowers everywhere and there are pretty pillows on the sofa.

Gee, so nobody told me that MANDY was a part of the "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy" TV show.

They go get Bagels, meet AARJEV (more below) and from there DREW schools his little sis on how to ride the subway, they ride the subway, he tells her about her job and I've wasted minutes of my life reading this shite.

I hate movies that point and tell you where they are and where the characters are going. It's like clicking through a travelogue filmstrip from the 1950s instead of watching a movie with, ya know, a story to tell?

Anyway...MANDY is to be a summer intern at DREW's company, which is filled with a million guys ALL EXACTLY LIKE DREW and all of the interns are hot hot hot chicks and of course, MANDY is the hottest.

PAUSE SPOILERS

The other biggest problem with I WANT TO F--- YOUR SISTER is that every Comedy, like Drama, is built on conflict and these plot points are so well worn, they make the basic Bikini Car Wash storyline look like 2005's SYRIANA.

Let's try a few variations on the movie's narrative and see if there is any funny to be found.

How about this: Hot-shot broker DREW is visited by his little sister MANDY-she's not hot-but she acts like she is, much to his embarrassment.

Or hot girl MANDY visits her broker brother DREW-he's a hotshot broker, but he's completely socially inept, much to her embarrassment. She decides to turn that toad into a prince.

Or, recently fired big city broker DREW has to go home and live with mom and dad following getting fired from his big city broker job. His little sister MANDY is his supervisor at the local Radio Shack.

RESUME SPOILERS

With the exception of AARJEV, a guy that predictably ends up MANDY's boyfriend, every single guy is a good-looking, rich, well-dressed, disgustingly loud mouthed cocksmith that talks in non-stop paragraphs about sex and bodily functions.

Every single woman in this flick, with four notable exceptions that show up in the last 7 minutes is the hottest woman imaginable, and they all wear the coolest clothing and the smallest bikinis and they go to the trendiest nightspots and, of course, MANDY is the smartest, sexiest, most hot, smallest bikini-wearing one of them all.

But that's not all, folks. Every location is the most: the hottest/the most sexy/the richest/the biggest/the trendiest... whatever.

There's even a champagne tower that's described as being twenty feet high.

See big equals funny so real big equals really big funny.

But wait, there's less:

I WANT TO F--- YOUR SISTER discovers too late, that it wants a heart, too.

So there's a semi-reformed DREW, and a "heartfelt" speech about what it's like to be a big brother that made me choke back my gag reflex - what were you thinking, tears?

The script is, bluntly put, a pile of crap.

I didn't laugh once and this script is lame-o.

END SPOILERS

How lame-o?

When I was 19, I shared an apartment with two guys that got drunk Thursday through Sunday, including the playing of "Quarters" until the wee hours of the night with their fellow drunken idiot friends. When they woke up, they'd have chili for breakfast and then enjoy sharing their farts all day long.

At least after I read the script for I WANT TO F--- YOUR SISTER, I didn't have to pick up all of the empties and trash them, surrounded by the ripe odors of old beer, stale cigarette ashes, and funky fresh flatulence.

If you saw the fast-talking corporate bullshit of WALLSTREET and the family picnic bit in MR.MOM and the visiting the big estate scene from THE SECRET OF MY SUCCE$S and the guy with a ladder at the window hogwash from "Dawson's Creek" and the breast popping out of the bikini top in US SUPREME COURT VS.THE BIKINI CAR WASH, then you've already seen this movie.

Or, if you've watched the ads for HBO's "Entourage", then you can skip I WANT TO etc.etc.

But that's how lame-o it is.

I WANT TO F--- YOUR SISTER gets a DRAMA (Kevin Dillon) from HBO'S "Entourage" out of a possible SHAUNA (Debi Mazar) from HBO's "Entourage" or 1.5 out of 10.

Mr. E would like to cast the super cool Debi Mazar as Lois Lane if they ever did a Superman movie set in the 1940s.