Greetings gorehounds, it’s your Macabre Majesty Sharon slithering through the spiderwebs once again, cackling maniacally into your nightmares. I come bearing news to tingle your twisted spines! A fresh freakshow of horror lunacy named Slotherhouse is lurching towards theaters next month, promising a perversely peculiar twist on the slasher genre.
This deranged oddball stars a lethargic yet lethal sloth as he descends on a sorority house, silently shredding his way through the bubbly residents within. Just imagine following this freakishly slow furball as he shambles from room to room, his oblivious victims utterly unaware of the sinister stalker in their midst! I’m salivating picturing the gruesomely gonzo carnage once he finally unleashes his animal instincts. A new horror legend slouches towards the screen to haunt our most depraved dreams!
But can this bizarre premise truly deliver the delirious goods? Or will it lumber lifeless and lame into the vault of failed horror laughables? To leave a lasting macabre mark, Slotherhouse must ooze nightmarish atmosphere from every drooling frame. I want to see gore-soaked sets drenched in crimson chaos! Unleash diabolically creative kills that make grisly use of the environment! Drench my eyeballs in an onslaught of practical effects as blood and viscera coat the camera lens! Give us the gloriously gross goods, and this oddity could shuffle into the cult horror canon.
Yet only time will tell if Slotherhouse has the sinister stuff, or if it implodes under the weight of its own weirdness. Will it leave audiences screaming with laughter, or simply screaming with boredom? I’ll be lurking in the darkest corner of the theater on opening night, barf bag in hand, ready to judge! Until next time fiends, stay scary!
