Go ahead, heart them. You know you want to.

Recently a spoof trailer of the to-be-released-in-December movie Twilight caught my eye on youtube. I, along with up to 1.3 million other people, watched it. I don't know what those other people thought, but I failed to stifle my laughter despite being in a semi-crowded newsroom and ended up sounding like a dying hyena.

The spoof, put up by Evil Iguana Productions -- a group of college-age guys in the Chicago area -- was one of several. The Dark Knight spoof had over 4.5 million hits as of yesterday. (Which is good, because as I learned from the first cast-member Q&A, the Batman suit cost $500. Probably why they did that other video on how lazy Aquaman is.)

Chasing the high of the Twilight trailer, I visited Evil Iguana's channel, or whatever youtube calls homepages, and found their magnum opus, "The Allen and Craig Show."

The show features Allen, a relatively normal guy who "can't think with [his] shirt on" and wears an Army helmet (with straps dangling perpetually/endearingly/hilariously from both sides) in his quest to become youtube-famous. Craig, whose only friend is Allen, has been drafted into the show, mostly to do Allen's scutwork, and stunts Allen doesn't want to do; Craig is shy, especially around girls (he vomits every time he attempts to talk to one), and doesn't even want to be on the show.

Though "The Allen and Craig Show" -- first episode titled "Probably going to be called 'The Allen Show'" -- is listed improv, each of the first six or seven episodes actually follows a coherent and slowly building narrative revolving around whatever Allen's current plot to become youtube-famous is.

As with most comedy, the small moments in between the big jokes are priceless: as when Craig asks Allen what his "safety word" will be if the Diet-Coke-and-Mentos experiment goes awry, followed by the inevitable going-awry and Allen's sputtered "Rumplestiltskin." ("Are you okay, Allen? You said the safety word," then-cameraman Craig says.) Or when Allen wants to prove himself better than Craig and begins a button-eating contest, alone. (He gets up to four.)

Over time, Craig comes out of his shell and Allen shows his more vulnerable side. But it doesn't take any time at all to be charmed by these two guys, who after all are "everyman" -- or every man that can produce a well-crafted, well-edited, self-referential-yet-fresh look into small-time, small-town foibles.

In Episode 10, Craig gets a new apartment in Chicago and begins film school.

I can't wait to see what low-key hijinks ensue.