The special effects guy, Merv, had gotten ambitious. "It needs texture," he'd insisted, mixing a new batch of "alien goo" in a bucket. He’d used something he found in an unlabeled drum behind the hardware store. The label said "Bio-Active" and then a lot of numbers.
"Cut! Print it. That's a wrap."
The art, unfortunately, ate the camera first. Then it ate Kevin from accounting. Then it absorbed the entire camera crew, their bodies dissolving into gelatinous lumps that still weakly held their boom poles. horror b-movie
It was a Tuesday when the B-movie became real. Not in a metaphorical, "oh, the acting is so bad it's scary" way. But in a literal, "the prop fungus is eating Gary's arm" way.
We stopped laughing when one of them sprouted a tiny, twitching eye. The special effects guy, Merv, had gotten ambitious
Take fourteen.
We were shooting The Spore That Took Toledo , a masterpiece of low-budget schlock. Our director, Lenny "Five-Takes" Falzone, had found a deal on fifty gallons of corn syrup and red food coloring. Our monster was a rubber suit left over from a 1987 Toho rip-off. Our lead, Dirk Steele (real name: Kevin from accounting), delivered lines like he was returning a library book. The label said "Bio-Active" and then a lot of numbers
Behind me, the entire film set was now a single, quivering mass the size of a city block. From its center, a hundred mouths formed. And with a hundred voices—Dirk’s, Lenny’s, Merv’s—it let out a final, reverberating take:
"Look out!" Dirk screamed, pointing at the cardboard spaceship. "It's the... uh... slime thing!"