This clunker, in which Mike ends up running the country (don't ask, and I won't tell) with Carol as his worst lady, completely misses the joke running through the first two films; it scantly addresses the issue of how an oblivious family of the 1970s copes with life in mean ol' 2002. Or maybe it does, since I could only stomach 30 minutes before feeling as though there had to be some better way to waste my time. I started to wonder how long it has been since Sam the Butcher slipped Alice some meat. I started to wonder what it might have sounded like when Susan Olsen, the original Cindy, had "thex." I tried to remember if Johnny Bravo was Greg's pseudonym as singer or porn star. This became tiresome after a while, so, like Ann B. Davis, I became a born-again Christian and crucified the advance video Fox sent, in hopes it would get resurrected as a blank tape.