This one is a scream. It's in my schlock hall of fame collection. LOL
If you haven't seen Yvonne DeCarlo in full post-Lily-Munster devil-priestess regalia, about to be torn to shreds by Dobermans named Lucifer and Diablo (the writers weren't trusting us to be capable of interpreting subtleties here) and crying out "Satan, why hast thou forsaken me?" you just haven't lived.
But wait. There's more. How much would you pay for a defrocked Catholic priest-turned-Satan-worshiper who can't seem to shake the habit of crossing himself and who frets prissily over the prospect of the intended Cheap Ho cheer leaders -- who are currently escaping from the clutches of the coven -- being attacked by the killer Dobies ("Oh, we mustn't soil the maidens," he flutters)?
Or a cheer leading sponsor who seems to have stepped out of some bizarre Oral Roberts University parallel universe where she just can't IMAGINE the idea that wearing short skirts and tight sweaters and jumping high enough to show your underpants might be construed as provocative to the males of the species?
Or a speech-impaired school janitor (who spends his off hours slathered in the worst seventies polyester leisure outfits ever manufactured) who makes a stammering vow to avenge the students who make fun of him by turning them over to the high priest of the devil coven for justice?
How about a sheriff named "B.L. Bubb" (again with the aversion to subtlety) who has to be the most wooden performer since Adam West in "Batman" or Charlton Heston in "The Ten Commandments" -- maybe since he and Charlton shared the divine Miss DeCarlo as a wife, something in her aura caused them to be stricken with Over The Top Acting Syndrome?
Now how much would you pay? But then, I can't fault anyone, since I did shell out five bucks for this one on a remaindered supermarket video rack. And I probably would have gone as high as fifteen to claim this gem of Drive In Infamy for my personal collection. LOL
If you haven't seen Yvonne DeCarlo in full post-Lily-Munster devil-priestess regalia, about to be torn to shreds by Dobermans named Lucifer and Diablo (the writers weren't trusting us to be capable of interpreting subtleties here) and crying out "Satan, why hast thou forsaken me?" you just haven't lived.
But wait. There's more. How much would you pay for a defrocked Catholic priest-turned-Satan-worshiper who can't seem to shake the habit of crossing himself and who frets prissily over the prospect of the intended Cheap Ho cheer leaders -- who are currently escaping from the clutches of the coven -- being attacked by the killer Dobies ("Oh, we mustn't soil the maidens," he flutters)?
Or a cheer leading sponsor who seems to have stepped out of some bizarre Oral Roberts University parallel universe where she just can't IMAGINE the idea that wearing short skirts and tight sweaters and jumping high enough to show your underpants might be construed as provocative to the males of the species?
Or a speech-impaired school janitor (who spends his off hours slathered in the worst seventies polyester leisure outfits ever manufactured) who makes a stammering vow to avenge the students who make fun of him by turning them over to the high priest of the devil coven for justice?
How about a sheriff named "B.L. Bubb" (again with the aversion to subtlety) who has to be the most wooden performer since Adam West in "Batman" or Charlton Heston in "The Ten Commandments" -- maybe since he and Charlton shared the divine Miss DeCarlo as a wife, something in her aura caused them to be stricken with Over The Top Acting Syndrome?
Now how much would you pay? But then, I can't fault anyone, since I did shell out five bucks for this one on a remaindered supermarket video rack. And I probably would have gone as high as fifteen to claim this gem of Drive In Infamy for my personal collection. LOL