The Being, Jackie Kong's valedictory discharge of whimsy and the macabre, concerns a wet sliver of goose shit come to life. Nourished on mashed potatoes and nuclear sediment, The Being "mutilates and decapitates".
The Being (played by a brown paper bag full of vomit) resembles a macerated Gorilla scrotum. Bejeweled with simmering pustules and mentally crippled by coprophagic compulsions, The Being embarks on a genocidal rampage the likes of which the world has never seen before. Most terrifying of all, it takes place in small-town, USA--a little place I like to call Pottsville, Idaho.
The film is corpulent with complexity. The Being is first of all a genetic freak. This makes perfect sense because his mother became pregnant with him after being molested by Data from the Star Trek: The Next Generation series.
In addition, he is transformed into a half-digested conglomeration of cat turds after gorging on irradiated French fries, (which are technically in no way different from those served at McDonald's today).
Each night, as suburban housewives contemplate the conclusion of that evening's episode of Oprah, The Being emerges from the local disposal dump. Quickly assembling makeshift scaffolding, he scales the walls of his victim's homes and wriggles down the chimney like a Santa Claus from Hell, arrived to deliver one-liners and kickbox the shit out of people.
I guess someone decides to hunt down the malodorous miscreant or something, I haven't seen it in a while.
Anyway, in an anticlimactic final scene it turns out The Being was nothing more than a mop tied to a pair of roller skates.
Ben Ford also hosts his own blogs, including TorturedEnglish.blogspot.com.