Know what else pisses me off? Fuck-o's who say shit like “Happy Friday!”. The next time someone wishes you similar tooth rotting Sweet 'N Low ear poison in an effort to cover up the crushing depression their personal life consists of, feel free to say, “Unless it's Free Blowjob Friday, go practice your verbal analingus on somebody else!”. Okay, it looks like I've filter a little of the morning rage out of my brain for the time being, so just lemme go pop a round of would-be offspring into the toilet and we can get this review underway...

For a movie titled “Queens of Evil”, our opening scene has little to do with either. A long-haired hippie type (who kinda looks like the worst parts of Luke Wilson and Ashton Kutcher) cruising around on his motorcycle one night runs across a rich older guy with no real use to the world and no use whatsoever to the flat tire on his car. Hippie guy, being the “peace, love, etcetera” type that he, offers to fix the man's flat tire for him. An odd conversation occurs where I think the older gent is dropping hints that he'd like to run his fingers (and a few other things) through the drifter's long locks. Talk about marriage and infidelity come up (I told you he was trying to run game on the love child!), but when Shaggy says he's not down with nuptials and the hypocrisy that comes with it, the old fart takes offense to the rapscallion's “damn the man, live life for yourself” lifestyle. The guy's fixing your flat tire because you're too old and out-of-shape to do it yourself and you're berating him?! It's a wonder this butt smuggler hasn't already gotten a screwdriver in his left lung or something! I'd part the a-hole's $200 haircut with a tire iron, drop a deuce in his mouth, and bury him alive if he treated me like that. Then again, I wouldn't have stopped to help him the first place, so more power to me. And what type of repayment does our flower child get for his efforts to show compassion to his enemy? The old dick popped one of the wanna-be John Lennon's tires. Dollars to dime-bags says Greasy McJerkOff used to tear the wings off of flies and hold girls' heads in toilets back in college too.

Joke's on the geezer though, cuz he ends up driving headlong into a tree or a headstone or something and dying on impact. Mitch, could you cue the ominous sounding music and the sinister chanting of seemingly nonsensical Latin phrases while Hash Pipe Joe catches up and checks out the scene? Thanks man, I appreciate it. On a secluded highway where there was absolutely no traffic to speak of for the last 10 minutes, suddenly several cars and trucks start passing by the scene of the accident. They're not there to help out our hippie pal though, they're just providing us with a third party perspective that allows us to see... wait for it... wait for it... little more... almost there... THERE IS NO CAR OR ASSHOLE DRIVER AFTER ALL! Yes, it looks like the wrecked car and it's impudent owner are artificial. Probably not something as simple as a hallucination brought on by bacterial infected meatless cheeseburgers, just what could be the cause behind the drifter's phantasmal occurrence? If I had to hazard a guess though, I'd say this is where those titular “Queens of Evil” come in. I'd bet a year's supply of Rice-A-Roni™ (the San Francisco treat!) on it!... of course it's 30 year-old Rice-A-Roni™ that my deceased uncle won on an episode of “Let's Make a Deal” and subsequently willed me before his wood chipper accident, so I'd be very suspicious about any bet I'm wagering it on.

Rather then get hassled at a pig checkpoint while leaving the scene of what he thinks to be a fatal car accident, Captain Moonbeam takes a bumpy dirt side road leading to a place called Summer Lake as his alternative route. Given that most of the first 15 minutes of the movie have to this point been lit solely by a motorcycle headlight, let's hope that “Summer Lake” has plenty of movie friendly lighting!

Catching zome 'z's in a random barn along ze road, David (whoze name we finally learn almozt twenty minutez into ze movie) wakes up ze next morning to a radiant ziren of a woman named Liv... zorry, I think zomeone zlipped a zhot of Zima into my zereal zis morning. Let me just whack myzelf in ze head with zis autographed copy of “If Chins Could Kill” and I'll get right back to it...

Ah, that'z better...*whack* I mean, that's better. Okay, back to the hippie and his new seductress. Liv asks the unwashed one to leave before “they” (whomever “they” are) arrive, but is sidetracked by another pair of beauties in his path, Liv's sisters Bibiana and Samantha. The trio of tail ask David to join them for breakfast using their best “come plow us 20 acres of field” voices and the famished free lover is more than happy to oblige. The ladies' rustic country home is oddly decorated with an inordinate numbers of pillows and one wall that's covered with nothing but giant glamor shots of the trio. After a breakfast of nothing but layer cakes, Dave settles down and chats with the gals about his journey to experience everything life has to offer in the world and blah blah blah and everything else in his hippie manifesto. This of course leads to the topic of free love and sleeping around and “what if” scenarios of the ladies giving the scruffy malcontent's “piece” a chance. Of course, when he tries to leave, his little head vetoes his bigger head so David stay with the three sisters in the hopes of having something interesting to submit to next month's issue of “Penthouse Forum”.

Not phased by the ladies' talk about fish having ceremonies, Bib's taxidermy hobby, their enjoyment for wearing wigs at dinner, the random secluded castle they take him to (that's probably owned or at least leased by Satan), or the sisters' ability to teleport (!?), David stays for an extended visit with the occasional bout of gettin' it on. I can't slight him though. If three hot sisters wanted me to be their boy toy in the middle of nowhere, I'd probably look past their freaky traits too. Though he stars to pick up that there's something not kosher about this lusty triad of sisterly snatch, our hippie hero sticks around. After cleaning the cobwebs out of Bib's basement though, he catches the gals talking to their “friend” in the middle of night and follows the dapperly dressed gentleman through the woods for a while. I'll be shocked if the stranger in question is not the automotive asshole from the beginning.

A freak tempest whips up out of nowhere and David gets struck down by lightning, so we're going to have to wait on the identity of the well dressed guy who wreaks of evil. Mitch, could you sue that foreboding Latin chanting stuff again? Thanks. While he's out, Davey Boy hallucinates about Samantha having a really cheaply done mouth tattoo on her throat (body paint: the least special of all special effects), Bibiana having a snake tattoo on her tit that looks like it was drawn by a 6 year-old, and Liv having a gun penis that shoots him... I've learned two things from this: David apparently has a tattoo that he regrets (or an issue with tattoos in general), and getting struck by lightning makes you trip your ever lovin' balls off! All you wasteheads out there listen up; instead of paying obscene amounts of money on tablets, powders, smokeables and shootables, you're better off going to the middle of a golf course with a huge length of metal pipe during a thunderstorm. Try it, you'll love it!

Surviving his electrically induced tweak out, Dave wakes up the next morning with the girls hovering over him. Not literally, but you get the idea. Discussing the mystery man, the sisters tell David that he's just their eccentric friend who owns the castle in the woods nearby and he was was just stopping by to invite them to a party on Saturday. Despite the urge to get the fuck out, Liv guilts David into staying for the party. If you think David's going to suffer more than just the awkward social situation of being introduced to friends of friends, give yourself a gold star. If you think that David's gonna be slashed to death by the sisters wielding meathooks, then here, just take the whole bag of gold stars.

In the end of course it turns out that the sisters and their friends are all Satanists who intended to lure David in giving up his freedom and staying with them. As soon as he gave up his free will, his soul was ripe for Satan's sodomizing. So, in the end, it's the conservatives who are all going to Hell while the hippies have got a free pass to Heaven... so long as they don't get married or get sucked into a crappy job or have kids or get a pet or do anything else that requires them to do something for someone other than themselves. Remember everybody, Hedonism = Heaven! Ironic, isn't it? I guess Janis Joplin was a prophet or something with that whole “freedom ain't nothin' if it ain't free”. Meh, I'm cool with it. Go self-indulgence! Woooo! Than again, all the Satanists get expensive cars and personal chauffeurs, so maybe eternal damnation through self-imposed subjugation has it's perks too...

Queens of Evil is an obvious and heavy-handed morality tale about the evil seduction of overindulgence at the expense of our personal selves... with no lighting budget... nor an FX budget...and a really slow first 75 or so minutes... It's always disappointing to see a movie that blows people away with a great finale, because you wish that the rest of the movie could've been nearly as entertaining. Then again, maybe the finale just seems great because all of the movie up to that point just kinda drolled on and on with no real direction. It's a conundrum. Either way, I do like that the writers don't fall on the old beliefs that sex in itself is evil, but that it's the giving up of yourself to someone spiritually that's the real sin. Kudos to our trio of writers for that much. Wait... three evil sisters and three writers? Spooky. Speaking of the sisters, even though you know they're cooking up something for David's big goodbye, the brutality with which they hand his soul its eviction notice is actually pretty damn creepy given the way he confesses his undying love and devotion to each of the girls right before they betray that love. Imagine finally finding the man or woman of your dreams, telling them what you think it is they want to hear about how you'll stay with them forever or whatnot, only to be on the receiving end when that person whips out a sharp gardening implement and uses it to till your face! I've had that happen to me before (in the proverbial sense at least) and it's not pretty. I can only imagine physical pain to go with the emotional pain sucks... yes, that's right, the best comment I could come up with was “it sucks”. Hey, you try writing something meaningful and thought provoking while in the haze of a 2pm beer buzz!