Zombos Says: Poor (even with the lap dance)
Disclaimer: The following review is filled with cheap shots, cheesy double-entendres, and puerile, trashy writing. Read it at your own risk.
Rain began to sideslip across the windowpanes and the bedroom grew darker. Zombos alternately draped himself over his bed, the settee, and the cushy leather wing chairs. We were at our wits end, he from a bad cold and the doldrums, and I from wet-nursing him. We had exhausted the claret, the sherry, and now our beloved green fairy—Absinthe—was almost gone. The situation was becoming intolerable. The thunder storm refused to let up, dwindle down, or simply go away.
Glenor broke up the tedium with the morning mail. Among the bills, personal correspondence, and advertisements (Zombos loves receiving those reassuring messages from Forest Lawn Cemeteries), there was a soggy package from William Wincler, director of Frankenstein versus the Creature from Blood Cove.
"Well, it’s in black and white," I said, unwrapping it. Zombos loves black and white movies. I waved it in front of him to tempt him.
He waved his hand in the air while blowing his nose. I took that for a yes. I popped the disc into the DVD player and poured out the last drops of Absinthe.
"Lap dance special?" Zombos said as the menu choices appeared. "What is that?"
I shrugged and clicked the remote to select it. The both of us were quickly nonplussed. "My word, I suppose that gives new meaning to the phrase 'Frankenstein's Monster,' " I said.
"Good lord," said Zombos, "if Zimba sees this she will pickle me. Quick, select something else."
The rain was coming down in bucket-fulls by the time we started the main feature. At Zombos' request, I held onto the remote and positioned myself close to the door, just in case Zimba popped in during one of the numerous 'talent and asset' cheesecake scenes. Frankenstein's Monster and the Creature were not the only big monsters in this movie.
We watched the Creature, a biogenetically-engineered one, escape the mad scientists' lair by jogging out the front door and gate, heading straight for the beach.
"Did the Creature just walk out the front door and gate?" asked Zombos.
"Well, no, exactly. Technically, he jogged out the front door and gate," I corrected him.
Loopy scientists, dressed in their Clorox-white lab coats, drinking coffee after dinner and chit-chatting, decide, on a whim, to go and find Frankenstein's Monster to continue their experiments now that the Creature had escaped and is sun-bathing on the beach.
They travel to Shellvania, which probably lies next to Exxonia, in the Gulf of Transylvania. Faster than you can say boo! they easily find the Monster in an unmarked grave using their trusty pocket-sized Reanimated-Tissue Traces Finder.
"What in hell is that thing? Is that made out of Legos?"asked Zombos.
"It does look like it," I said. "Why, just last week at Walmart I saw Lego kits for Star Wars and Transformers. Be easy to make a Reanimated-Tissue Traces Finder, I’d think.
"Amazing," said Zombos. "In my day, it was Slinkies, Silly-Putty, or Mr.Potato Head."
While digging up the Frankenstein Monster, a werewolf attacks them, is frightened off, then attacks them again—in broad daylight. After being viciously assaulted, sort of, by the well-groomed werewolf, and shooting it dead, the unperturbed scientists decide to chat on and on about its medical condition. Eventually they go back to digging.
"I would have been hauling ass right about then," I said.
Zombos nodded in agreement.
"Hey, look, the werewolf is Eddie Munster all grown up."
We watched the cursed thing transform back to its human shape. "No wonder the werewolf looked like his Woof Woof doll."
Back in Los Angeles (I wonder how they got Frankenstein's Monster past Homeland Security?), the mad scientists set to work on brainwashing the Monster to follow only their orders.
What? That’s what mad scientists do.
Meanwhile, Percy, Bill and Dezzirae are off to the deserted beach—where the Creature ran off to—to shoot a photo spread for Kitty Kat magazine, highlighting Gabrielle's bosomy assets.
"Lord! Now those monsters are scary!" said Zombos.
Getting Creature-is-near vibes, mayhem ensues, sending them hustling back to the Kitty Kat magazine office, but their editor sends them right back to the beach for more photos; which leads to our next suacy and well-endowed model, Beula, making the mistake of swimming topless when danger is nearby. She obviously hasn’t seen Jaws or even Piranha. The Creature pops up to bore us to death—oops, I meant claw her to death.
More mayhem ensues as the Creature follows our panic-stricken trio to the parking lot, then to the—I didn't see this one coming—mad scientists lair. Calling for help by patiently ringing the doorbell, Bill, Percy and Dezzirae are invited inside, only to become prisoners because they've seen too much.
By this time, so have we.
Frankenstein's Monster is sent to kick the Creature's butt, but instead gets his butt kicked. Mad Dr. Lazaroff (Larry Butler) helps him recuperate. He also receives a visit from the ghost of Doctor Frankenstein.
"Is that Ed Wood?" asked Zombos as the ghostly apparition appears to Dr. Lazaroff.
"Can't be, he's not wearing an Angora sweater," I said.
"Roger Corman, then?"
"Not dead yet," I answered.
"Oh, right. It must be old Henry himself, then," Zombos concluded.
"Story aside, the cinematography is good, don't you think?" I asked. "The action scenes between the Monster and the Creature lack bite, though. Seems more like they're having a hissy fit."
Zombos agreed. "The pacing is non-existent. The camera angles are fair and bosomy."
When Selena Silver goes into her shamelessly gratuitous pole dance routine in a seedy bar, all hell breaks loose when Frankenstein's Monster enters. It’s pointless for me to describe how he got there in the first place, or why we’re even there because this whole production is pointless.
"Is that Ron Jeremy?" asked Zimba, standing at the door.
"Why yes, I think it—" Zombos turned a shade paler than he normally is.
I sensed a battle brewing, one more horrific than the cat-fight between the Monster and the Creature. I turned off the movie and hastily left the bedroom.
Wait a minute, I thought to myself as I paused at the top of the stairs, how did Zimba know what Ron Jeremy looked like?
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