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Sam Myerson

Abigail Fawn

Bre Augsburg

After a one-night stand, a young woman finds herself pregnant with triplets. When the father&apos;s family find out, they insist on bringing her home to shower her in the affection she never had from her own family.

I&apos;ve narrowed it down for you. Four adult men - FOUR - living in one home, and not a single one of them questioned the logistics of inviting a woman with the memory recall of a wet sponge into their home. One of them was Sam Myerson, who tried, truly tried, to act like he hadn&apos;t read this script with both eyes closed. The other three? The Mount Rushmore of Confusion, each with exactly one personality trait: Old, Older, and Who Is This Guy?

Now, let&apos;s talk about her. The lead actress. The woman with the perpetual stunned face of a co-ed who just discovered what taxes are. Did she play this role as deeply naive? Or is she the best actress of our generation - fooling even herself? Her acting walked a tightrope between &apos;clueless freshman orientation&apos; and &apos;I read the first half of the script and said yes anyway.

She floated through the house like it was totally normal to be taken in by four strange men and start organizing baby bottles between crying jags and high-heeled stumbles. Did she question anything? Nope. Did we scream at the screen every five minutes like it was a horror movie in disguise? Absolutely.

She deserves a nomination. Not an Oscar. Not a Golden Globe. No. A Razzie. A sparkling, plastic Razzie mounted on a stack of rejected soap opera scripts. And to all actors out there - raise your damn standards. I beg you. Do something meaningful. Do something bold. Stop showing up in these dollar store digital disasters where the pregnancy bump is made of dryer lint and dreams.

And let&apos;s not forget the slip scene. One of umpteen. She stumbles, he catches her - again. This time, it&apos;s slowed down, caught from every angle twice, and in lighting that somehow shifts from daytime to dusk to full-blown midnight. I slipped a disc just watching it.

Moira&apos;s Final Verdict: &quot;This was not a film. This was a low-resolution cry for help. I feel like I need to write an apology to cinema.&quot; **Seal of Suffering: Issued 🍼 Baby Bump Realism: -12/10 💋 Romantic Chemistry: Comparable to wet cardboard 🎥 Slip Count: Lost track at 6 and developed vertigo.

I've narrowed it down for you. Four adult men - FOUR - living in one home, and not a single one of them questioned the logistics of inviting a woman with the memory recall of a wet sponge into their home. One of them was Sam Myerson, who tried, truly tried, to act like he hadn't read this script with both eyes closed. The other three? The Mount Rushmore of Confusion, each with exactly one personality trait: Old, Older, and Who Is This Guy?

Now, let's talk about her. The lead actress. The woman with the perpetual stunned face of a co-ed who just discovered what taxes are. Did she play this role as deeply naive? Or is she the best actress of our generation - fooling even herself? Her acting walked a tightrope between 'clueless freshman orientation' and 'I read the first half of the script and said yes anyway.

She floated through the house like it was totally normal to be taken in by four strange men and start organizing baby bottles between crying jags and high-heeled stumbles. Did she question anything? Nope. Did we scream at the screen every five minutes like it was a horror movie in disguise? Absolutely.

She deserves a nomination. Not an Oscar. Not a Golden Globe. No. A Razzie. A sparkling, plastic Razzie mounted on a stack of rejected soap opera scripts. And to all actors out there - raise your damn standards. I beg you. Do something meaningful. Do something bold. Stop showing up in these dollar store digital disasters where the pregnancy bump is made of dryer lint and dreams.

And let's not forget the slip scene. One of umpteen. She stumbles, he catches her - again. This time, it's slowed down, caught from every angle twice, and in lighting that somehow shifts from daytime to dusk to full-blown midnight. I slipped a disc just watching it.

Moira's Final Verdict: "This was not a film. This was a low-resolution cry for help. I feel like I need to write an apology to cinema." **Seal of Suffering: Issued 🍼 Baby Bump Realism: -12/10 💋 Romantic Chemistry: Comparable to wet cardboard 🎥 Slip Count: Lost track at 6 and developed vertigo.

After a one-night stand, a young woman finds herself pregnant with triplets. When the father's family find out, they insist on bringing her home to shower her in the affection she never had from her own family.

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Pregnant After One Night: Spoiled by Four Billionaires

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