Mrs. Doubtfire is actually pretty creepy from a mother’s perspective. It’s a wonder the uncle DIDN’T make that bodysuit out of Grandma stitched with bits from the court liason crone, and that the movie DIDN’T end with Robin Williams’s character wearing his ex-wife’s skin to slaughter the remaining members of his family before fleeing to some tropical getaway in the company of Aunt Jack. But I suppose the PG-13 rating may have had something to do with it.
Come to think, I could just as easily see Mrs. Doubtfire ending like Schramm.
Whenever I come up against some form of Tyrant in a Resident Evil game, I cannot help but imagine my character ad-libbing: “*gasp* Where are its genitals?!” to which the Tyrant in question responds (post-obligatory raWr): “THEY TOOK MY DICK AND BALLS!!!”
The sole exception to this is with William Birkin — who at least managed to retain enough of his memory (and modesty) to grasp the concept of pants — which makes perfect sense considering he was, by his own wife’s admission, out to “impregnate” their twelve-year-old daughter at the time.
There’s a reason these games are rated ‘M’: not for the maturity of the content but for the immaturity of the players.