Keaton is a snake on the make who cheats at cards and whose life's ambition is to win the great American lotto. He spends most of his time building a room-size neon-lit lizard, and generally fooling around like he never left high school. Then into his life steps the alluring Chong, a private dick carrying a court summons from Keaton's ex-wife over non-payment of alimony. The couple haven't seen each other for three years, but she turns up wanting a favour: can he pick up a black box from her apartment? It sounds simple enough, but the box is also wanted by a couple of hoods working for a French dealer in shrunken heads, who has hired the unwitting Chong to track it down. This attempt at comedy is a disaster, laboriously plotted and inanely scripted; the enthusiasm of the cast can do nothing to redeem its sheer lack of wit and invention.