My fertile imagination created a nightmare last night. We have the stereotypical horror movie teens standing around in the surf, and suddenly one turns around and says, "Where's Bobby? Wasn't he standing right behind us?" And swiftly everybody starts bounding out of the surf, thinking "SHARK!" and heading up a nearby bluff. When they make it up the bluff, a girl screams "Where's Joe?!" and yes, *another* one has disappeared.
So the teens flee, and huddle, and we do a scene shift and we finally get our first glimpse of the killer. He's kind of humming and talking to himself, "bumble bee, bumble boh, fresh meat fresh meat dum dum doh" and bounces on-camera, bounding up the slope. His narrow lips are working, showing his fine teeth underneath, and he has a long neck and four hooved feet (splashed with blood) and a wooly brown coat and is... a llama.
Yes, a llama. As in, wooly South American pack animal. My imagination created a freakin' killer llama! A more unlikely movie villain I cannot imagine, other than perhaps killer bunnies :).
So anyhow, our intrepid band of heros builds a tree house to get away from whatever is picking them off one by one. In one scene we see the llama bumbling along, and a cute blond thing sees it and says "ooh, you're cute!" and goes over to pet it or some shit, and the llama sticks its hoof through her chest and before we can see blood spurting we cut to the look of horror on her face as she dies a movie death (hey, it's a late-night TV movie nightmare from the early 70's, okay?).
While the treehouse is still being built, the hero is out investigating the ruins of an old cabin that was on the edge of the bluff. He lies down on one of the few boards left of the front porch to watch the ocean and glances to the side and sees... cats. Yes, common house cats, tabbies, mackerels, black-and-white, just a random assortment of cats, sitting on shelves created by old crates. He's baffled because they're not sitting in the sun, and waves his hand toward one of them, an orange tabby, "hey, kitty kitty!" The cat sort of dodges his hand, then points down with its paw. Something makes him roll off the board into the crawl space under the porch just as the llama's hoof comes down on where his head would have been. At which point he pulls out the .45 ACP he had strapped to his hip and starts blasting away, and the llama runs off, apparently unhurt.
And then I woke up. So we'll never know how this bad horror movie ended, heh.
-- Badtux the Horror Penguin
Acid flashbacks?
ReplyDeleteI saw that one once. In the Sixties, IIRC. It was in a cushy theatre with balcony seats where they let you smoke.
ReplyDeleteDon't remember how it came out though.
--ml
Maybe you can continue the dream tonight?
ReplyDeleteDave
That never works for me, Dave. I've spent the prior day intellectualizing it away, and my imagination is at rest the next evening.
ReplyDeleteMartin, you saw a film about a killer llama?!
I would probably go see this one. Think about any possible names?
ReplyDeleteMaybe it was killer guppies of the Mojave.
ReplyDeleteIt was an auteur film and very fuzzy.
--ml