 THE ATTACK OF THE VAMPIRE KING EDWARD POTATOES THAT GRUNT, SNORT AND TALK THROUGH THE BEST BITS OF THE FILM!
Filmed in
CHEAP-BUT-CHEERFUL-BUDGET-OF-50p-AND-AN-OLD-BRASS-BUTTON
-O-VISION!
Part 3
The Story So Far...
"Long long ago, in a galaxy far far away...."
"Nope."
"Oh. Right. Space, the final frontier..."
"Wrong again."
"After encountering an alien spacecraft in the Nevada desert, Steve and Joan have to save the world from the Vampire King Edward Potatoes, who are making their plans to attack Las Vegas. Meanwhile, Steve has a plan of high stupidity. And David Vincent has seen them, he must convince a disbelieving world that the danger is here, in this episode of THE INVADERS! (beyawee beyawee beyawee!)"
"Stop the old sci-fi series lines, or you'll have a nice pink-coloured slip and a P45 form."
"Oh. Right."
Now Part 3 of the Twilight Zo... (cut!)
Steve pulled away from Joan's ear after whispering the plan.
"Steve don't you think that that plan is on the far side of over the top?"
"Don't you think Vampire King Edward Potatoes that grunt, snort etc. are silly in the first place?"
"Point taken."
Meanwhile, back in the Steve-and-Joan's-Lada-Boot conference centre, the finalisation of the plan was in effect.
"Right, so we all know what we're doing, liberation of the vegetable kind, and lunching on the rest. Any questions?"
"Yes, we're a good one and a half qwarms..."
Strangely enough, a qwarm is about a mile in earth terms, fact fans. And who says we're too lazy to do tricky conversions...
"Are you finished yet? Only I've still got half a line to do..."
Oh. Right. Yes.
"Thank you. Anyway, we're still one and a half qwarms away from the enemy settlement. And we've only got little legs. How on Zatteweil..."
Zatteweil is the fifth planet in the Daarax system, class M3, life humanoi...
"Look, I don't come cheap. Your interruptions will be costing the producers a fortune..."
Oh. Right.
"Anyway, how on Zatteweil are we going to reach it in the space of less than an episode?"
"Good question. I say we drive this vehicle..."
"Problem, O exhaulted general. None of us can a)drive it or b) reach the pedals and the steering wheel at the same time."
"So? there's 375 potatoes here. I'm sure we can come up with something..."
Officer Manowitz sat in his patrol car at the side of the highway dunking doughnuts when the potatoes swerved past him in the Lada. He sat staring blankly at the manically driven east European car, and didn't notice the fact that he'd just tipped a whole box of hot doughnuts in to his lap and his genitals were in pain. He slowly picked up the radio mike.
"This is car 64 on highway 7, I've just been passed by some potatoes driving a Lada..."
"Are you parked?"
"Yeah."
"That's why you got passed by a Lada then."
"Yeah, but potatoes? Have I any vacation time left?"
It was at this point that an image in lycra approached him. The image wore y-fronts outside his tights, an over-the-top sized cape, and a 'guess-who-I-am' cowl. His chest bore the sign of a potato being squashed, and in his hand he held a potato masher. Manowitz started to believe that dunking his doughnuts in whisky wasn't such a good idea.
"Howdy, I'm Potato Masher Man and I wonder if you could tell me if a Lada being driven by a load of potatoes passed through here and which way they went."
Manowitz nodded and slowly pointed towards Vegas.
Thank you kindly. If we walk fast enough Joan, we should beat them to that large town there."
"That town is Las Vegas, sir," said Manowitz.
"That's the last time I let you read the map, Joan."
"So, what do we do now, Steve, ahem, Potato Masher Man?"
Now, before the plot gets even more out of control, we'd better leave this transmission and allow the scriptwriters to get their regular course of shock therapy.
WILL the Potatoes give Las Vegas a roasting?
CAN the story get any sillier?
HAVE the potatoes got a valid driving licence?
WHERE does Steve get his Y-Fronts from?
THESE QUESTIONS AND MORE ANSWERED IN THE NEXT EXCITING INSTALLMENT OF...
THE ATTACK OF THE VAMPIRE KING EDWARD POTATOES THAT GRUNT, SNORT AND SET FIRE TO THEIR OWN FART AT PARTIES!
Written, starring, directed and produced by Glen S. Passman.
A 'My god, that took long enough to write' production.
Copyright © 1996-1997 Glen S. Passman.
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