Think about the last time you went to the movies. You laughed, you cried, you paid roughly the price of a used car for popcorn. And when the credits rolled, you walked out — past the seats, past the spilled Milk Duds, past the small disaster zone that every audience leaves behind. Somebody has to clean all that up. A Saturday Night in Tennessee On a Saturday night in Maryville, Tennessee, a 21-year-old named Brooklyn…