There's an ancient prophecy about the Urn of Apollonia, which must be taken to the Temple of Vanity by Sheila E... or we're all doomed.
Score: Minus 10 points
Drinking game: Take at least three swigs of vodka, gin or Southern Comfort, and then attempt to give yourself a swirlie in the kitchen sink.

The hero is the chosen one, who's more special than anybody else ever.
Score: Minus 100 points.
Drinking game: Attempt to drink your own urine.

Characters share useful information with each other, instead of having wacky misunderstandings designed to move the plot forward. Bonus points if they ask each other smart questions.
Score: Plus 70 points.
Drinking game: Have a beer with a sake chaser.

The hero has a miraculous gadget (which may rhyme with ironic brew diver) allowing him to get out of literally any difficult situation with no hassle.
Score: Minus 10 points.
Drinking game: Make yourself a sonic screwdriver out of orange juice, vodka and ultrasonic vibrations. Drink the whole thing in one go.

The main characters are real people, with believable flaws and non over-the-top personal issues. Which they don't resolve in the course of an hour.
Score: Plus 20 points.
Drinking game: Have a shot of the good whiskey. You know, the 20-year-old single malt stuff.

Someone has a superpower that totally defies the laws of physics. Like shapeshifting, which allows him/her to go from being a tiny human to a buick-sized monster by pulling extra mass out of somewhere.
Score: Minus 5 points.
Drinking game: Pour a shot of tequila into your eyes and pretend you're melting into a shape-shifting puddle of goo, which can change its size and mass.

Aliens are genuinely alien, and don't resemble a race or nationality from Earth.
Score: Plus 20 points.
Drinking game: Mix every alcoholic beverage you've got into a bowl, and stick your head into it.

There's a space god, who wears a tunic or toga and talks all mythic, while warping reality.
Score: Minus 1,000 points.
Drinking game: Make a ceremonial libation to the space god, with some sangria, preferably an entire pitcher's worth. Drink the whole thing, while chanting, "What does God need with a starship?"

Events have real consequences, that aren't undone via "reset button" or silly trickery. Bonus points if characters get mortally injured and don't run around for 20 minutes afterwards.
Score: Plus 10 points.
Drinking game: Pour everclear on your hands and light them on fire.

Techno-babble and crazy jargon that makes no sense. Or, if you're reading a book, a description of how a spaceship works that goes on for more than two printed pages.
Score: Minus 5 points.
Drinking game: Hook your blender up to your microwave, using a multiphasic ion-shielding photon decoder. Make a daiquiri, and nuke it in the microwave. If there's anything left, drink it.

Can you suggest any more entries to make this the perfect get-drunk system, erm we mean evaluation tool?

• The Sonic Screwdriver from Doctor Who: This is probably one of the most versatile gadgets in all of science fiction creation. It could be used to disable robots, rewire security grids, repair dead machinery, open locks, and yes, even turn screws. They were never quite clear about how this worked, just that it was "sonic," but it got The Doctor out of more scrapes than McGuyver's Swiss Army knife, and won't raise eyebrows at airport security.
• The Lightsaber from Star Wars: Sure, it was just a sword... or was it? You could use this to open up tauntauns for warmth, melt steel blast doors open, deflect laser blasts, and light your way. Plus, if you have a really steady hand you could probably shave and cut the Thanksgiving turkey with it, and that's just for starters. Plus it has a handy belt loop so you can accessorize with it.
• The Handheld Replicator from Star Trek V: We only saw this thing once on-screen when Spock used it to create a marshmallow while he was camping with Kirk and Bones, but think about how awesome it would be to have this in your pocket. Especially while on a road trip or at the movies. Of course, it's so small in size that you wouldn't be able to get anything substantial out of it, but we envision a river of never-ending candy streaming out that would make your house a pretty popular stop on Halloween. You could even get a toy version of this by mailing a coupon in to Kraft, creating one of the lamest movie tie-in toys ever.
• Ziggy from Quantum Leap: Although unfortunately named after the world's lamest comic-strip, Ziggy was the sentient supercomputer that told Scott Bakula where and who he was, and what he was supposed to be doing. It looked like it was made out of see-through Legos and frequently got whacked by Al in an effort to make it work right, and it would make the perfect PDA. Don't like the lunch meeting it has scheduled for you? Just slap it around a bit.
• Mr. Igoe's hand from Innerspace: Igoe was the mute henchman of Mr. Scrimshaw, and he wanted nothing more than to cause you pain. He had a fake right hand that could pop off and be interchanged with several different tools, including a blowtorch, a corkscrew, a drill, and... a vibrator. Which he puts to good use on the red-haired vixen in the film. Talk about your ultimate handheld gadget, and his license plate even read SNAPON.
• The Neuralizer from Men In Black: Seriously, this pen-sized gadget could come in handy in millions of different ways, and it has the bonus benefit of giving you Jedi-like powers of persuasion as well. Not only could it make you forget things (at user-tweaked intervals), but you could plant suggestions in the newly erased mind the way Will Smith has that woman sass up her life. I'd like to have one just for all the times I get pulled over by traffic cops.
• Honorable Mention — The Bathroom Buddy from Gremlins: In the movie, Billy's dad (who is also the guy who bought the damn Gremlin in the first place) spends most of the movie trying to invent a "Bathroom Buddy" that will revolutionize going to the bathroom. Need a shave? Time to brush your teeth? Thanks Bathroom Buddy! No idea what else it could do, because thankfully the film didn't get too graphic with it. Alas, he never got it to work right, leaving us with a hunk of useless plastic and an empty spot in our pocket.

Famous names: Tom Baker, Peter Davison, Peter Purves, William Hartnell, Patrick Troughton, Colin Baker, Jon Pertwee, Sylvester McCoy, Terrance Dicks, Robert Holmes, Nicholas Courtney, Sophie Aldred.

Crunchy goodness: 5

Memorable product tie-in: The Daleks, mutant nazis in personal super-tanks, spawned a zillion types of crap, from a plastic zip-up playsuit to remote control wheelie Daleks to Dalek Sky-Ray ice lollies. (An ice lolly is like an ice-cicle.) Embarrassingly, a shitload of toy Daleks actually appear in longshot in the story Planet of the Daleks, as an army of super Daleks preparing to conquer the galaxy.

Design breakthrough: Doctor Who pioneered the art of filming in front of a greenscreen — but didn't exactly perfect it. More successful were John Friedlander's latex masks (Davros, the Ogrons, the Draconians) and Delia Derbyshire's pioneering all-electronic arrangement of the theme music.

Life lesson: It's not murder if you trick the bad guys into blowing themselves up (in, like, every episode.)

Outpost Gallifrey