Lame and probably unnecessary spoiler alert: Contains plot points from The Core and Deep Blue Sea, which, if you haven't seen them by now, you probably don't want to, anyway, which is fine, because, really, they aren't that good.
The scene thus far: Lloyd sits in uncomfy chair in living room, watching HBO's 11:30 a.m. showing of The Core, a bad-science end-of-world piece of cheese referred to at ChezLloyd'n'Rina's as Neil LaBute's The Core, due to the presence of the beauteous Aaron Eckhart. Bakerina, in the midst of baking muffins and toaster cakes for three weeks' worth of weekday breakfasts, takes a little break and joins him on other uncomfy chair in living room. On screen, Hilary Swank pilots space shuttle.
Bakerina: Okay, so nothing *too* bad is going to happen to the shuttle, because Hilary Swank is on it.
Lloyd: Right. She has to last at least close to the end of the movie. She's not at that point yet where she can die close to the beginning.
Bakerina: Like Samuel L. Jackson.
Lloyd: Right. [pauses for a moment] Man, Laurence Fishburne would have pulled that shark's guts right out. [makes gesture of pulling innards out of great white, with accompanying raaaaaaaaa noise]