by Bob Walsh
I just finished watching (not completely voluntarily) something called Mountain Monsters. It was even worst than the worse Grade D movie I ever saw IN MY LIFE.
It was a pack of hillbilly rednecks, or actors playing rednecks very convincingly, who were hunting for a 7-foot tall wolf that walks on two legs in Butthole, West Virginia. Each scene had two or three repeats, holes in the story big enough to drive a large truck thru and scripting that would make a junior high school English class embarrassed. If it wasn't for the fact I was half medicated and 2/3 asleep I would have considered it to be a 100% waste of my evening. As it was it was only about an 85% waste of my evening.
This thing made The Terror From Tiny Town or Plan 9 From Outer Space look like high art with excellent production values. If it hadn't been for the fact I was loaded on Percocet and Valium washed down with some Hennessy 5-Star I would have been offended that it was even on TV. As it is I am not completely sure I didn't just imagine it. It was that bad.
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