A dinner date with Michael Bay:
The main course is a tiny nibble of broccoli. After that comes dessert. Four hours of him stuffing his face with pastries and chocolate bars. Just a swath of culinary destruction, chunks flying in every direction. In little flashes between consuming entire worlds, he actually says some interesting things that make you wish he would calm down, chew and elaborate. Or at least savor the meal, instead of becoming a black hole from which no sugar can escape.
You look at your watch, and 3 hours have passed. You check your watch again, and you've aged 50 years. Time gives up in his presence. You check your watch a third time, and it's only been five minutes since he said something vaguely racist.
After ogling the waitresses' breasts for a terrifying amount of time, he washes it all down by chugging Mountain Dew and Bud Light until he barfs.
So umm... "Transformers: The Last Knight" is a movie.
END OF LINE