I abandon it for Monty Python's The Meaning of Life and my best friend. It is a depressing sort of movie because of how accurate it is in its portrayal of stupidity in people.
After it is over and the parents have left the room, he asks me why I came out. He already knows the answer; he just wants to hear it out loud. Even though I am the same way, I do not humor him this time.
We watch Dawn of the Dead for a little while before determining that we don't really want to be watching Dawn of the Dead. He begins sliding (literally, sliding) towards the room with the green light. I wrap myself around his arm to try to stop him and he ends up dragging me. Somehow I end up on my back, being pulled by both my wrists into my friend's room. I'm squealing in protest and the pain from what's on my wrist is irrelevant.
Flash forward to when we're lying on the floor. The green light has been turned off in favor of the normal one. He is writing "smile" on my arm with a red Sharpie pen and I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing.