Barbarian comes to a stop at the edge of the pit, at the bottom of which lies a defeated Bigfoot, pierced all the way through by multiple spikes. The limo driver climbs down to retrieve the map, but all he gets is Yank's fist. The ensuing fight isn't exactly in Yank's favor as the limo driver has about a foot of hard muscle on the other man, so Sandra ends things by wedging the gas pedal of Barbarian and sending it racing through the woods, the limo driver in angry pursuit.
Bigfoot is on the loosing end of his tug-of-war duel against the cheating Graveroller and is slowly being dragged toward the pit of bubbling acid. Yank kicks Bigfoot in reverse, having just enough room to slacken the chain and douse it in the acid. It snaps and Graveroller races out of the arena, Bigfoot right on his tail. A chase follows them through the neon streets of Vegas and even into a casino, where they pulp slot machines and chase showgirls off a stage.
A woman bursts out the front door of a fancy mansion in the south, running, with a rolled up map in her hand. A trio of bikers appears and surrounds her. She escapes by tricking them into crashing into a fountain. The lead biker tells the others, "Nail her before she gets to the stadium!"
As we mentioned in our introduction to Inhumanoids, the five episode pilot of that series was actually comprised of 15 seven minute shorts that aired on an anthology show initially titled Super Week, then changed to Super Sunday (Super Saturday in some markets) the following weekend. Alongside Inhumanoids, the only other series of shorts to expand into an ongoing series was the now truly outrageous cult classic Jem and the Holograms. Since Jem went on too long to qualify for this blog as a Short-Lived series, we've decided to look at the remaining pair of Super Sunday offerings which weren't able to find a life beyond their initial shorts.
Starting tomorrow, we'll be looking at Bigfoot and the Muscle Machines, yet another tale written by Inhumanoids and Visionaries mastermind Flint Dille, with its nine segments spread across three weekly installments.
Then we're onto Robotix, the 15 chapters of which we'll cover in five posts.
After that, we'll wrap things up with a final surprise before moving back to our traditional Saturday schedule. Hope you all join along and enjoy the ride!
There's something about this odd little monkey of a show that I just can't help but love. It started out as absolute dreck, with awful designs, a flat concept, lousy animation, an indistinct vocal cast, and monsters that shriek and shriek and shriek. But instead of making it into a good show, they kicked this messy mess of a mess until it became a funny show, a gonzo show, a glorious tribute to just how awful it can be as it revels in every little bizarre notion that pops up in the creators' heads.
Where else would you have a show where the giant monster makes out with the Statue of Liberty, kidnaps her, then brings her to life as the nagging wife he never wanted, who wants him to cast aside his henchgoons and nefarious apocalyptic plots so he can do important things like shed some weight off his gut and make her a hottub. Where else would you have a young boy join a cult that turns him into a zombie, which allows him to finally get revenge on the brutal nerds of the Centerville Debate Team and finally ask out the girl he's been pining for. Where else would the most distinct member of the heroic team have his primary distinction be that he hurls his shoe through television sets that are the bearers of bad tidings, a joke that escalates to the point where the rest of the heroes permanently erect a net in front of their tv. Where else would you have a gorgeous movie star rolling her eyes as she operate the controls of a massive puppet being poorly hit on by a horny moron made out of plant tentacles. Where else would Hector Ramirez, a one-off Geraldo Rivera parody who made brief appearances in three past Sunbow properties, be so prominently featured and essential to several plots as to be worthy of the role of recurring guest star.
