Summary: A drunken doughy
salesman (that is, a salesman - we're talking 1964 here)
turns down the apparently sexual advances of pizza-faced
Carmelita, a carnival fortune-teller who summons her even
more pizza-faced assistant Ortega to help her pour acid on
the guy's face and usher him into the back room, where he
joins her growing army of former salesmen who are now
zombies. Had even one salesman consented to lay with
Carmelita perhaps we might have been spared this movie, but
on such chances doth history turn.
Prologue: Crow and Servo raise funds in competing walk-a-thons, for groups with real long acronyms. Servo's very deserving non-profit is called "Helping Children Through Research and Development," which stands for -- you don't have time.
Segment One: Pearl is driving the annoying children from last show home; she keeps them fed and happy with her bountiful stock of bar snacks and non-alcoholic drink mixes. From the planet, the squabbling Bobo and Observer speak to the SOL only through audio and still shots. (Why?) Bobo hurls something unspeakable at Observer. It's something available only to him.
Segment Two: Crow and Servo, pretending to be a crack fortune-telling team, take Mike for fifty cents. Mike is a little disappointed.
Segment Three: Inspired by the nice foreign guy in the movie, Crow and Servo sport new pompadours. They talk Mike into getting one two, and he contacts Nanite Shelli. She gabs and talks and is just so nice and gives Mike a real real tall pompadour, I mean real tall.
Segment Four: Crow hires Ortega to cater the commercial break. It's a great spread, especially the rellenos with smoky gouda and fresh crab, and the blue corn baskets with flaked trout in chipotle vinaigrette, although Mike simply must object to Ortega's filth and saliva and what not. Sadly, Ortega ashes in the quail eggs and his shame overwhelms him.
Segment Five: Crow and Servo put Mike in box, call it a roller coaster, serve him some hot coffee and push him off the desk. Pearl drops off the kids at their parents'. They're huge and omnipotent so she turns down their offer of coffee and carrot cake.
In the vast history of MST
movies made by oily guys who elect to direct the camera
largely on themselves, this one stands out, although to be
fair Ray Dennis Steckler is really no oilier than a number
of sallow oleaginous fellows we could name. Actually, we
couldn't name them, but we could definitely think of them