The Power to Shut the Sky … And Shut Down the Joe Bob

Our long national nightmare is over

The drive-in reopens with a return to July 25, 1985, wherein Joe Bob administers The Drive-In Oath to the virgin faithful.

Flash forward, March 29, 2019. The Last Drive-In: The Series premieres, proving that a horde of mutants banded together on a Friday night has the power to shut the sky.

“Let’s talk about shower scenes…”

Thus opens Joe Bob’s take on C.H.U.D., the heart-wrenching tale of sewer-dwelling homeless people who get turned into mutants by toxic waste that’s been dumped underground by a corrupt government agency called the NRC. The only way to stop the threat and execute the cover-up is to pump gas into the sewer and smoke out the formerly human, now man-eating mutants that are dog-killin and diner-destroyin their way through the streets of lower Manhattan. It will take a soup kitchen manager, a model, and a former high-fashion photographer working with a lone hero cop to reveal the conspiracy and save the city. The NRC plot fails, the bad guy dies, the good guys win. The End. Along the way we discover that C.H.U.D. stands not for Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dweller but Contamination Hazard Urban Disposal. One of the many twists and turns on our way to nowhere.

Drive-In Totals: The Cliff Notes

  • 8 Dead Bodies
  • Gratuitous C.H.U.D. Hands
  • 1 Really Bad Clogged Drain
  • Heads Roll
  • Flamethrower Fu

It all adds up to 2 Stars (cross reference 2 unseen breasts). You want the rest, you gotta re-watch the show in which Joe Bob tells us why we should hate snooty New York actors and why a little John Goodman/Jay Thomas in an all-night diner that’s about to serve a different kind of hamburger meat goes a long way. Which brings us to a segment we like to call…

C.H.U.D. Lessons

Numero uno: There’s no length a bunch of horror amateurs won’t go to to make a bad movie. Dead dogs. Cardboard box home invasion. Police detectives who are suspiciously nonchalant about their wives’ disappearances. Police detectives who describe their deceased wives with all the love and affection of a preacher-for-hire at a hastily arranged funeral (“She just went back to college…She used to stay up half the night, studying. Then she’d go out and…walk the dog.”). C.H.U.D. proves that theatre creds, pre-hipster SoHo shooting locations, and rampant nepotism do not a good movie make. Joe Bob rightly names at least 18 million examples of plot getting in the way of story, including two C.H.U.D. acronyms, two shady government agencies, and so much tell over show that “Somebody’s gonna have to stop it and it’s gonna have to be us!” All told, you’ve got the clear difference between Q the Winged Serpent and Let’s Give Horror the Ol’ College Try.

Numero two-o: There’s one length a bunch of horror amateurs will go to to make a bad movie. In the slightly revised words of Lincoln Osiris: Never go full retard, but always go full C.H.U.D. This flick doesn’t. We’re left for the most part with disembodied C.H.U.D.s whose tiny T-Rex arms are barely long enough to peek out of the sewer and make jazz hands. Ernie – without makeup – would have made a better C.H.U.D. It just reinforces what we’ve always known: Ass-less chaps? Good. Body-less C.H.U.D.s? Bad. Redemptive moment: C.H.U.D.s limbering up with sun salutations.

Numero three-o: Otherwise sexy and/or talented actors will not appear so in C.H.U.D. This film pulls off the impossible: making its talented attractive leads appear…un-aardvarkable. The normally handsome John Heard (George) ranks so high on the Pasty-Meter he must’ve eaten bad sushi between every take. Kim Greist (Lauren) is suspiciously un-smoldery as well given her smoky turns on Miami Vice and Manhunter just a year+ later. (Michael Mann > Douglas Cheek). Her mid-film, no-nudity, tile-and-grout commercial ranks as the least sexy shower scene of all time. Meanwhile, Daniel Stern (A.J.) looks creepier than the actual C.H.U.D.s (though how would we know?). He snarls. He looks like a rat trying to chew its way through a pile of jumper cables. And he’s so dang dirty! If you’re meeting with the police commissioner to help save the human race, may we humbly suggest washing your hands. It’s all enough to make us drink copious amounts of Lone Star. Of course, anything’s enough to make us drink copious amounts of Lone Star.

Fantasy Criterion Collection Ending
We’re not normally revisionist but what the hell. Lauren’s booty pimple is this film’s Chekhov’s gun and it’s about to go off. Unbeknownst to all, the bump is really a C.H.U.D. bite, causing her undeveloped fetus to mutate. Just when you think the C.H.U.D.s have been defeated, she and George give birth to the second coming. The End?

The C.H.U.D Drive-In Oath
For you Arrow-lovin C.H.U.D. monkeys out there, this review’s been a rough one. But don’t despair. Put your hand on your heart and repeat after us:

We are C.H.U.D. mutants.

We are not wrong to love C.H.U.D.

Mama still loves us, even if no one else does.

We will single-handedly Kickstart C.H.U.D.: The Musical.

We can’t trust the government and we can’t trust the PO-lice, but we can always trust C.H.U.D. (and C.H.U.D. II).

It’s enough to bring a tear to our eye, until…

Last Call: Darcy Lays Down the Hammer
Despite the film’s 98-minute run-time, the most dramatic moments come in the post-C.H.U.D. banter, in which Joe Bob challenges Darcy on the film’s merits:

It’s five seconds of monsters, two hours of smug theater actors.

  I mean, you can say that about a million monster movies. I think that’s Hammer’s motto.
Well, actually that’s true.

Set and match.

Next up: A Stewart Gordon classic that shows more than enough monster, if you know what we mean and we think you do…


Laura Beerman

Laura may best be summarized in two words: Mama tried. A lifelong horror fan with a particular soft spot for Joe Bob and Dario Argento, she earned a graduate degree in Early American Literature from Austin Peay State University. She has written professionally for more than two decades, primarily in healthcare, and has been interviewed by The Wall Street Journal and other industry publications for her insights. Laura lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with her horticulturist husband, The Greenman, and her four cats. Her other musings are forthcoming in Diabolique Magazine.
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One Nasty Rough Pukin Flick

In the match-up between C.H.U.D. and Castle Freak, Joe Bob is clear: C.H.U.D. blows chunks. The world’s-longest bumper sticker of that might read…


Castle Freak – in Joe Bob’s own words – is a Swiss-family tragedy set in a 13th-century Eye-talian castle inhabited by a monster with a maimed floppy wangdoodle supplemented by cannibalistic hooker nooky.

Because this doesn’t cover even half of what’s in the film, we’ve prepared these survival tips. Hang on to your hats, folks. This top 10 goes up to 11.

Top 10 Tips for Surviving Castle Freak

Tip 1: Acceptance. It’s called Castle Freak for a reason.

Tip 2: Skip a meal. Castle Freak features an All-Night Nipple Buffet and a free slice of pie for the first five customers.

Tip 3: No animals were harmed… The good news: Italy has an SPCA. The bad news: It launched in 2015.

Tip 4: You’re in the hands of horror royalty. Stuart Gordon film. H.P. Lovecraft adaptation. Dennis Paoli adaptation. Boom.

Tip 5: Know before you go. Jeffrey Combs cannot and will not catch a break. The. Entire. Film.

Tip 6: Mangled dick happens. Rock yourself. Hum Goodbye Horses. Call Felissa Rose – who will tell you that any wangdoodle works and she’s surprised Joe Bob doesn’t know that.

Tip 7: Some body parts were spared. Bad day for members, meh day for thumbs. Only one was injured in the making of Castle Freak.

Tip 8: Ahhhh, Barbara Crampton.

Tip 9: Watch Castle Freak on The Last Drive-In. And let the sweet comfort of Joe Bob wash over you.

Tip 10: If all else fails, close your eyes.

If you’re fleeing from a horny nekkid lizard-skinned skeleton carcass of an arrested-development geekazoid with mangled lips, go for the chifferobe.

Next Up:
Time to show Larry the love…

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Q the Winged Serpent: Joe Bob Breaks Tradition, Larry Breaks the Chrysler, Darcy Breaks Twitter

Only one thing could make Joe Bob pre-announce a drive-in flick.For this week’s Drive-In Oath, please remove your Stetsons and observe a moment of silence for one of the greats, Mr. Larry Cohen.

It’s the last time we’ll be sad about it.

Episode 3: Information font or fount?

Either way, I spew it out!” – Joe Bob Briggs

Joe Bob’s encyclopedic insight knows no bounds. He rightly notes that Q the Winged Serpent is part horror, part monster movie, part police procedural, and 1,000% awesome. Other dishes in this kitchen sink include Aztec cult worship, multiple blood sacrifices, and a resurrected serpent god named Quetzalcoatl (hipster name Q) who turns the rooftops of New York into her own private punch bowl and salad bar. Q’s fate collides with Jimmy Quinn, a two-bit grifter who discovers her lair. While the cops, the mob, and the cult chase Jimmy, Jimmy chases a deal. He cashes in on the carnage by turning Q into a flying goldmine – leading cops to the Chrysler building where they pop a cap in the murderous serpent and her little baby, too.

The city thanks Jimmy by voiding his million-dollar deal. Fortunately, things get worse. His girlfriend kicks him out and he’s forced to defend himself from one last hater (the Aztec cult leader). Saved in the end by New York’s finest, Jimmy proclaims: I’m not afraid anymore. But his king-of-the-world moment is short-lived as the camera once again takes flight and closes in on … another guld ‘durn egg.

Drive-In Totals: The Cliff Notes
• 10 Bodies
• Heads Fly (Up?)
• Ritualistic Chest-Carving With Heart Extraction
Machine Gun Fu
• Drive-In Academy Award Nomination: Michael Moriarty
• BONUS: Joe Bob Refrigerator-Magnet-Throwin Fu

4 stars – Joe Bob says check it out.

Our episode also featured drive-in etiquette, worse-than-average Catholic jokes, gratuitous references to gratuitous mimes plus two of Joe Bob’s favorite pastimes: gluten hatin and Cohen lovin.

A Drive-In Kind of Guy
Lawrence George Cohen was his own Cohen brother – talented and original. Because he was, Q delivers the total package. Perspective and pacing. Great backdrops and performances. Air, light and rhythm.

Cinematography. Q is an aerial Jaws. Her ghostly skyscraper shadow and the shoot-out as the film nears its climax are phenomenal. It’s good news for us, bad news for the bikini-clad roof loungers who get scooped up, thrashed and eaten. No interspecies romance subplot. No Faye Wray. No trips to Skull Island.

Pacing. Story flow can make or break a film. We’re so used to jump cuts, we forget how movies used to move. Larry’s camera puts us on Tulsa Time even as we’re on the edge of our seats.

We heart NY. Q gives us New York’s gritty side – in other words every side, save for crown jewels like the Chrysler Building. Larry makes love to the Chrysler the entire film. It’s his muse. His temple. You’d never know he nearly burned it down.

Dialogue for the ages. Here’s a sampler:

Joan: The next time you hurt me, I’ll break a lamp over your head while you’re asleep!
The Cops: Shepard: Hey, what are you looking for? Powell: Looking for the head. Shepard: Won’t be much left of it. You ever drop a cantaloupe from 40 stories?
The Professor: What else is God but an invisible force that we fear?
Jimmy Quinn: I stink and I just wanna cry.

So sayeth Q’s great character actors: Candy Clark, David Carradine and Richard Roundtree, Larry Pine (looking younger than we’ve ever seen him), and Michael freakin Moriarty. Mister Moriarty’s character arc – from sulking to gloating to insufferable to taunting to crying – is one of Joe Bob’s favorites. MM rules. Had Michael not stopped tweeting in 2016, he’d have seen himself trending during Friday’s show alongside #fisting and #shunting.

Speaking of Twitter, Put out an APB
Darcy the Mail Girl (a/k/a @kinky_horror a/k/a Diana Prince) is a suspected Russian bot. Armed with a smoking smartphone and may be in disguise. Last seen in a blonde wig and booty shorts wielding an axe.

Last Call: Darcy Shows Her Versatility
While mourning the loss of the Houston Texans’ cheerleader BBQ bikini party, Joe Bob learns of Darcy’s recent scouting trip to the Carolina Panthers cheer clinic.

Joe Bob: Well good luck at betraying this show
Darcy: I can do both.
Joe Bob: And betraying the New England Patriots, cause aren’t you a big Tom Brady fan?
Darcy: I go both ways.

Set and match.

Next Up…
We go deep deep deep into the secret pervert fetish underbelly of nekkid all-night house party sex clubs that take it just a little too far …

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The Official Last Drive-In Flesh Pile Instruction Manual

Good flesh piles don’t just happen. They take weeks of forethought and planning. And while the first rule of flesh pile is never to talk about flesh pile, today we break protocol.

If you find yourself invited to a fancy Beverly Hills party whose details are shrouded in mystery, we want you to be prepared. The following instructions can be used by flesh pile participants and designers alike.

Topics include:
• Pile Members
• Shuntee Selection
• Dimensions
• Ingress and Egress
• Setting
• Scheduling and Time Limits
• Clean-Up
• Conclusion

While it ain’t rocket science, it ain’t Sea Monkeys either. Although as any experienced flesh piler/Shunter will tell you: the hotter and wetter the better.

Pile Members
No matter who you are in the pile, always give 110%. No six for eight. No trophies for participation.

10-12 participants are ideal, not counting the Shuntee, with an even mix of genders, ages, sexual preferences, and fitness levels.

Have an authority figure in the pile in case things get out of hand. We recommend a judge, senator (State or U.S.), police commissioner, or your local Chamber president. Note: The authority figure may or may not be the Fister. Some do, others teach.

Speaking of fisting, trainees are allowed in the pile. There’s no way to earn certification without supervised practicums.

Finally, we recommend having at least one redneck in the pile. Rednecks also make great Fisters. They can be a flight risk so always have an alternate. If one person bails, everyone else has to work that much harder.

Shuntee Selection
There’s no other way to say it: no runts. When I go to a party thrown by millionaires, I don’t want finger food. I want at least three courses and an aperitif with cigars and brandy after. If you go the tapas route, you will need multiple Shuntees within the pile.

A word on etiquette: There is no such thing as a first-time Shuntee as there are no repeat performances. In this life, you’re either a Shuntee, a Shunter, a Shunter/Fister, a Fister, a Fister-in-Training, an observer or oblivious.

While the number of participants will generally dictate the overall height, depth and girth of your flesh pile, never forget general aesthetics – what arborists would call the flesh pile’s “habit”. Keep growth range in mind. Space things out. Trim the stragglers.

Ingress and Egress
There is no one way to enter or leave a flesh pile. This excludes the Lead Fister for obvious reasons. Should fistibutts turn to fisticuffs (or vice versa), be sure you have an exit plan.

Mansions. No exceptions. The Great Texarkana Double-Wide Flesh Pile Incident of 2005 shall not be repeated.

Scheduling and Time Limits
Evening shunts work better than day shunts. Never schedule on religious holidays or observances. Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are perfectly acceptable.

Time limits? None. Relax into it and go where the shunt takes you. Note: If your mother-in-law’s coming to visit and she’s not part of the flesh pile, leave plenty of time for clean-up (see next section). A mother-in-law can smell a stale shunt from a mile away.

You are going to have a mess on your hands. Even the most experienced Shunters leave a puddle or two. Have a designated clean-up crew with supplies already in place (e.g., mops, buckets, ShamWow!, febreze).

There you have it folks. Everything you need to rock your first flesh pile. The most important instruction of all? Keep an open mind.

The flesh pile, like the drive-in, will never die.

Technical Notes
Microsoft will no longer support the FleshPileUx! 2.0 design platform on Windows 10 after October 2020. Start migrating now to avoid disruption and loss of files.

The Martha Stewart Flesh pile Expansion Pack has been discontinued

Source: The Gratuitous Blogger thanks Darcy the Mail Girl for serving as technical advisor

In Memoriam
Ferguson (Washington internship now available; please see Judge Carter)

Next Up:
Metal. Demons. New Zealand. Good on ya…

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