A few weeks ago, the gods of Netflix decided to bless every girl that grew up in the '90s by adding "Bring It On" (the original, not all of those terrible sequels) to their streamed movie options. I felt as though it was my sisterly duty to introduce this gem of a film to my 11 and 12 year old sisters. My childhood copy was on VHS, so these poor children had never had the chance to view this classic. I was just about to push play when both sisters began to whine about how much they weren't going to like it. And then my dad uttered possibly the most brilliant revelation of our century: "Girls, just watch it. You'll like it. It's basically that singing movie you all love to watch, but it was filmed when your sister was a kid." So they agreed to watch it, and I realized, he was absolutely right. They basically replaced teen cheerleaders with college singers and sucked all of us '90s' kids rights back in.

First, you have the huge expectations placed on the new leader of the group. That crazy Big Red girl practically hand delivered the Bellas speech to Aubrey and Chloe.

Then of course, said successor's ambition causes the loss of team members. Cue Aubrey's puking scene at Nationals and Torrance trying what the film calls "the hardest cheer pyramid known" at her first practice. Aubrey's leave out of embarrassment, and Torrance sends hers away in a neck brace.

Which then leads to the most wonderful sequence of terrible auditions to replace these members.

Then we have the entrance of the "alt girl" that could totally throw off the entire emotional makeup of the team

But it's OK, because she is going to add a new dimension that pushes the group forward and ultimately makes them way better.

Oh, and let's not forget about the forbidden love interest between main characters. Brother of the new cheerleader? Gasp! Flirtation with someone from your enemy group? Don't even say it!

Now, I know what you're thinking. But "Bring It On" doesn't have Fat Amy. She basically makes the movie. Well, you may have forgotten the genius that is Sparky Polastri. Spirit fingers? Horizontal running? I'm sensing a pattern.

Sparky just brings us to the next plot similarity. Oh no! The teams have a totally outdated repertoire that is in no way going to win them nationals. Guess by some loopholes in the rules, these teams can still go, but let's make it clear that they are the clear underdogs with this material. I see you stolen cheers/hired choreographer that's only frowned upon, but not illegal. And you too high school student that somehow got recruited by a college singing group. What to do now? Only completely throw out everything else you've ever worked on and start from scratch.

This group chaos must also be matched with personal relationship disasters with the main characters romantic interest. Keep listening to that mix-tape, Torrance. How many times are you going to watch "The Breakfast Club," Beca? We get it. You both messed this up too.

Nationals competition is finally upon us. Of course, both teams have a phenomenal performance. But what's more, both manage to work in a little snippet of that song that's sure not only to win over the judges' hearts, but that of the scorned love interest as well. I wish I could conveniently solve all of my problems in 2.4 minutes.

So, after finding all of these connections, I realized I have basically been duped by the film industry for years by loving what I thought were two different movies. Instead, my dad has alerted me to this disturbing Hollywood conspiracy. Just kidding. I really don't care that these movies are basically exactly the same. It's actually like a really great BOGO sale where I got two guilty pleasure movies for the price of one tacky teen plot line. I honestly can't think of anything that could bring me greater joy.