Here's a list of hideously dreadful celluloid boo-boos which act as dead giveaways that spell out the painfully obvious fact that this stinkweed picture reeks more intensely than a damp ten pound bag full of week old horse manure. Let's call this depressingly dismal list "How Not To Make A Tongue-in-Cheek Parody." <br /><br />1) Let the no-brainer plot -- vengeful nerdy brainiac Menlo Schwartzer (arch geek actor Eddie Deezen at his most intolerably spastic) transforms the local chowderhead surfer dudes into white-faced, spiky-haired, black leather-clad garbage-devouring punk zombies by making them drink a dangerously noxious soda -- mindlessly meander all over the place without ever acquiring any focus or momentum.<br /><br />2) Make sure nothing remotely clever, inspired or interesting is done with the would-be spoofy premise, a dumb, lumbering attempt at sending up both dippy 60's "Beach Party" features and cheesy 70's drive-in horror schlock which suffers from a terminal case of the major league stupids.<br /><br />3) Pepper the numbskull dialogue with horribly dated "hip" slang ("I was totally tubed") and rusty-eared groan-inducing profanity ("You guys are so full of s**t that your eyes are all brown").<br /><br />4) Shamefully waste a stellar cast by saddling them not only with shoddy, sub-par material to fight a hopelessly uphill battle with, but also with obnoxious characters to annoyingly overplay: the gorgeous Linda Kerridge as Deezen's hot honey girlfriend, Lyle Waggoner as the blundering killjoy police chief, Ruth Buzzi and Carol Wayne as ditsy moms, Terry Kiser and Biff Manard as comparably fatuous fathers, Cleavon Little as a doltish high school principal, Eric Stoltz and Tom Villard as vapid surfers, and the luscious Corinne Bohrer and the adorable Lucinda Dooling as airhead valley chicks.<br /><br />5) Similarly squander a first-rate soundtrack loaded with both top-drawer 80's New Wave bands (Oingo Boingo, Wall of Voodoo, the Circle Jerks) and awesome 60's surf-rock nuggets (the Beach Boys, the Ventures, the Chantays, even the great Dick Dale).<br /><br />6) Have the gratingly idiotic humor center on such dubiously "amusing" topics as eating seaweed, transvestitism, jiggling bare breasts, two fat blimps ravenously noshing on submarine sandwiches covered with seagull poop, frogs racing in slow motion to the rousing "Chariots of Fire" theme, and much, much worse.<br /><br />7) Direct the film with no faint residual traces of style, wit, energy or ingenuity whatsoever, and the net result of this flagrant misuse of the camera will be a monumental cinematic stiff of unbearably epic el zilcho proportions.