![]() There's a fourth-wall-breaking left-hook, taken right out of the Arkham playbook, tying to an amazing twist that caught me hilariously off-guard. I ran into a Soviet test-flight golden retriever blessed with celestial hyper-intelligence, and in a moment of weakness, he admitted to me how much he missed his former puny dog-intellect, those endless afternoons chasing tennis balls in the front lawn. Guardians is full of sequences that capture the odder, funnier, lighter side of Marvel's cosmic expanse. The beast was either enchanted or repelled by each crewmember's singing voice-he'd come closer to Star-Lord's melody, run away from Rocket Raccoon's, and so on-so we all took turns belting out Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry Be Happy" until our mercurial llama was finally in place. That is until I solved a puzzle involving a psychedelic space llama who I needed to coax into chewing up some wires on the ship.
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