Imagine being a young woman in the 1950s and having to deal with institutional repression, oppression, and nonstop judgment. Imagine as a response saying, "Fuck it,” not caring about being seen as a "bad girl," and living your freest self. Imagine dying young, thanks to a fuckin' smoke bomb accident before you get crowned prom queen, and staying so mad about it over the next 30 years of your afterlife that, as soon as you get the opportunity, you spiritually possess a new prom queen and indulge in as much '80s-era sleaze and nastiness as you possibly can before hall-of-fame hardass Michael Ironside shuts your whole shit down. Congratulations! You just imagined Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II. You can go wash your brain out now.