Sunday, February 2, 2014

A Fling with Space Thing, Part 7

If new to this series, start here.

It's the home stretch of the exhaustive review of the 60s sci-fi nudie film, Space Thing.  "Home stretch" as in a "home" where they will put you if you watch this movie, and "stretch" as in "Stretch Armstong."  I had Stretch Monster.  Damn fine toy.  What, you think I'm trying to avoid talking about Space Thing more?  Pshaw!

Steve Balmer reacting to the sales of Window Vista.

Dumpy McOvenMitts is pissed because nobody is rolling around half naked on the dusty ground with him, getting cactus needles stuck in their tender parts and hard scrabble dirt jammed into every body crevice, of which he probably has many, many extras.

He should consider himself lucky.  He probably escaped this shoot without the need of penicillin, but sadly, not with his dignity intact.

Either a scene from Space Thing or a nature documentary on a golden octopus
eating some pale crab.

Let's try another Parade of Horrorable Fun What If? game.  Let's say you are shooting a nudie film, who's only reason for existence is to show T&A.  And let's say you had to shoot yet but another incredibly fake sex scene.  Where should you focus the camera?

If you said "Clothed butt of male cast member", then you win the prize, which is to stop shooting this scene and start shooting yourself.

The gun is just a symbol of the true battle -- the manly battle of the pants bulge.

The huffy crew member has finally had enough of our alien spy/good guy space-blocking him from rolling around with a bored, underpaid nude actress.  This causes the most Trek-ian turn of events, the shirtless scramble for a gun.

Huffy PJs looses, and gets disintegrated.  Nobody cares.  Really, nobody cares.  I'd say this takes place in the Mirror, Mirror Star Trek universe, but there's a lack of evil goatees.

A photo.  Yes, the actual movie dialog says this is a photo.

Back on the ship, our alien spy finally decides that the only way to properly sabotage this ship -- outside of just letting everybody die of syphilis -- is to destroy the ship by explosives.  Before he does that, he takes out a picture of his wife (remember, he's an alien in disguise) and sadly says goodbye.

This was when I stopped the movie, put my head on the desk, and re-evaluated my life.  Then I thought to myself "It's almost over, it can't get worse."  You know what comes next!

It's not a shoe with gold tape on it, it's a space shoe with space gold tape on it.

It goes way past worse to absolutely ludicrous.

That, boys and girls, is our terrifying, ship destroying explosive, and absolutely not a nine-volt with a fuse taped to it.  And, as much as you think it's being lit by a paper book of matches, those are in fact special space paper matches in a special space paper book.

The Q-36 Explosive Space Modulator goes off, the ship goes kablooey, and Space Thing comes to a merciful end.

What have we learned?  Nothing.  Go home.  Romance month starts soon!

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