Hey, Joe Bob Briggs here, with Monster Vision. Excuse me if I'm a little hacked off tonight. You might of heard about it.
They barred me.last week from the Putt-Putt miniature golf course on Coit Road for putting a two-foot dent in a baby elephant. It wasn't MY fault. Mavis Hunley kept knocking her ball into the decorative concrete jungle-swamp water garden. And I told her, "Mavis, they got three-year-old kids that can hit the ball hard enough to get it up to the hole.
You don't have to PROVE anything here." But Mavis just pretty much smashes the yellow Day-Glo paint off the ball every single time she hits it. And then my girlfriend Wanda Bodine was there. She gets all upset every time you have to pass one of those seventeen-year-old girls in the blue-jean mini-skirts. You know the ones I'm talking about? The ones that are always playing miniature golf with guys named Shane that wear football jerseys that are cut in half across their chest? These gals, as we all know, don't know how to play miniature golf. We all realize this. We all realize they're gonna put their ball down on the mat and sweep it like a broom and then giggle. And then, when it goes too far and bounces off the back and comes all the way back down to where it started, they're gonna giggle some more and jump up and down and HIT IT AGAIN
BEFORE IT STOPS ROLLING. I know this. You know this. Girls in blue-jean mini-skirts have been doing this for years. Everybody who has played miniature golf knows this.
Wanda doesn't know this.
"What does she thinks she's doing?" Wanda will say.
I'll try to explain. "She's jumping up and down so Shane will see her mini-skirt."
"SEE her mini-skirt? SEE it? I think we've all seen ENOUGH of it."
And then I say "It's your turn. Hit the goldurn ball."
And then, of course, Wanda will hit the ball off the back
board and it'll come all the way back down to where it started.
Or you take Mavis. Mavis's problem is kids with purple hair or a lot of chains on their shirt. You know this group, don't you? The group of six, and NONE of them EVER get their ball in the hole. Never, ever, not once. They just hit it and then hit it again and then hit it some more, and then they pick it up and start hitting it on the next hole. And when they're not hitting it, they act like they're about to hit one another over the head with their clubs. And when they're not doing that, they all hit their balls at the same time. And when they're not doing that, they KICK the balls?
And I say "It's punk golf, Mavis. Don't worry about it."
But she can't stand it.
"I'm gonna speak to the manager."
"What good is that gonna do. They can play punk golf if they want to."
"It says here, right on the scorecard, that only one person plays at a time."
"Yeah, right, Mavis. Maybe we'll need the police."
And she starts yellin "Five-stroke maximum! Five-stroke maximum!"
"Mavis, they hit the goldurn balls so fast nobody can tell how many times they hit em anyway."
"I saw one guy hit his ball NINE times on one hole."
And that's when Mavis got SO mad she took a full backswing, like she was in the U.S. Open or something, and she hit the ball so hard that it flew right off the end of the club, bounced off a replica of the Matterhorn, skimmed across a zebra's back, and fell into two feet of water underneath a spraying-trunk baby elephant. I didn't wanna say anything at the time, but it also missed a kid with orange hair by about nine inches.
Fortunately, the kid thought it was really cool.
I didn't want this situation to escalate, though, and so I plunged into the swamp and, in one graceful athletic movement, vaulted over the baby elephant's back and kicked Mavis's ball off the bottom with the side of my boot.
Unfortunately, it landed on the assistant night manager's Adam's apple.
Well, it didn't really land there. It kind of hit there and sprung backward, and when the ambulance came it was . . .
Well, all I've got to say is I think it's a little strict to get barred just for one lousy dent in a baby elephant. I could have reached down in there and beat it back into shape. I used to
work for Deke's Auto Body Repair.
Anyhow, I don't wanna talk any more about that--how'd I get off on that?--it's time to watch John Carpenter's classic "The Fog," the first of a Monster Vision double feature tonight. Later on we'll be seeing the Filipino stinker "Superbeast." But right now it's Adrienne Barbeau, Jamie Lee Curtis, Hal Holbrook, and a whole bunch of John Carpenter's friends going "The fog is evil! Don't go into the fog!" Frankly I don't think you can make FOG that creepy, but tell me what you think. Those drive-in totals are: Eight dead bodies. No breasts. Sword through the chest. Hook through the chest. Dagger to the chest. Six zombies. Strangulation. I give it about . . . three stars. Check it out, and [EFX: CHEESY FOG ROLLS IN] Oh my God! The foooooooogg!
"The Fog," Commercial Break 1 Joe Bob Briggs
Kinda. surprising, huh? Jamie Lee Curtis and the guy shoulda got killed just for jumpin in bed too fast, right? Isn't that what's supposed to happen in horror flicks? Nookie equals death. But this time it's the FOG that we're supposed to be afraid of. There's some guy right off camera just pumpin that stuff in as fast as John Carpenter can use it up, right? And just so we'll know how evil the fog is--it moves AGAINST THE WIND--0000000000. [whispering] "The Fooooooog."
"The Fog, 11 Commercial Break 2 Joe Bob Briggs
Okay, did you get that? The creepy pirate zombies are actually dead lepers, from a leper colony that wanted to live Antonio Bay a hundred years ago. But Hal Holbrook's grandpa TRICKED EM and made em shipwreck and stole their gold. But I a question: If priests don't get married, then how does Hal Holbrook have a grandfather who's a priest? Don't try to put stuff like that over on me.
"The Fog," Commercial Break 3 Joe Bob Briggs
Well, what was that dang corpse trying to do? He gets up, walks across the room, writes somethin stupid on the floor. And they all just look at one another, like, "Well, there goes another one?" And what was that stuff about liquid drippin off the wooden plank and settin Adrienne Barbeau's tapes on fire?
This is one of those movies where anything can happen and you don't have to explain it. . . . Adrienne looks good, though, doesn't she? Two enormous talents on that woman. I mean that with all due respect.
"The Fog," Commercial Break 4 Joe Bob Briggs
That'll teach Dan to make fun of the fog, right. "There's something different about this fog, Dan. IT GLOWS." So it's green, and it moves the wrong way. Excuse me if I'm not impressed. Okay, it starts gettin a little better. You've got nothin to do, right?
"The Fog," Commercial Break 5 Joe Bob Briggs
My question is, why did he let Jamie Lee Curtis drive the truck in the first place? He was driving the truck the whole movie until he had to go rescue the kid. They almost got eaten, like the babysitter. Obviously, at this point, you can tell the zombies are p.o.ed. Don't give the girl the KEYS. Okay, now the fog's gettin serious. "Stay away from the fog!"
"The Fog," Commercial Break 6 Joe Bob Briggs
Hal Holbrook's gonna give em their gold back and the zombies are gonna go home?
I don't think so.
Here's the conclusion of "The Fog." After it's over I'll still be here, cause our second feature tonight is "Superbeast," the story of a beautiful pathologist in tight white jeans who goes to the Philippines to figure out why people are turning into crazed murderers in the jungle. She has to spike this guy's Coco Loco in order to escape. You'll enjoy it--well, you won't REALLY enjoy it, but you'll be under the impression that you can turn it off at any time, so compared to me, you'll be happy.
And now, the last of "The Fog."
Originally aired 7/5/96