Our film begins with some nifty artwork credits by Sherri P. Vernon, depicting worms inserted into all kinds of Americana. It's hilariously blasphemous but I'm reminded of Michelangelo's work on the Sistine Chapel while looking at these stills. It doesn't last long, though, as the novelty song "Might as Well Just Eat Worms" is seared into your brain. The same four phrases are repeated over and over and over and, just like back in the old schoolyard, it's taunting refrain will be stuck in your head for eons and eons and eons.
The only thing that could possibly make it worse - would be a power kazoo solo.
Then we get one.
Then the kazoos join in and accompany the chorus for sixty-four more verses of the song before the credits mercifully come to an end.
- - - -
It gets worse. "Eine Kleine Nacht Music" is robbed from the public domain and put to use as well. It's gonna be a long movie. How much time's left? 72-minutes? Oy. Never gonna make it. Never gonna make it.
- - - -
The movie proper begins at night by a lake. Three fishermen lounge around a campfire, belching to their heart's content. Unbeknownst to them, a club-footed man limps through the flickering light and drops a pile of worms on the ground that promptly begin to screech.
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