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I always wondered where parents hid the Slope's young adults (did they just roll tykes downhill when they started to outgrow the baby carriages?) until hitting the Park Slope Pavilion on a Friday night. Maybe it's just me, but the adolescent hormones swirling around in that joint could rub off on even the most grizzled, serious-minded moviegoing couple. After all, there's got to be some K-I-S-S-I-N-G to bring about those baby carriages.