Jeff Lebowski—a.k.a. “The Dude”—is relaxing in a tub, de-stressing with candles and the remnants of a joint. Three body-suit-clad men enter his apartment, drop a marmot into the bath (to the frantic displeasure of the Dude), make some vague threats, and, before exiting, declare (with Teutonic contempt) that they “believe in nothing.”
Our favorite people in this world: those who acknowledge The Big Lebowski as among the very best film comedies to feature league bowling, nihilist kidnappers and a profound appreciation on the deorative value of a well-placed rug.
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