Year: 2004
Run Time: 80 minutes
Production Company: Vital Fluids
Director: Cody Jarrett
Starring: FROG-G-G! and Raul Julia as M. Bison
T & A: Technically
What Goes Up, Must Come: In The Mayonnaise


Webster’s Dictionary defines “frog” as “a small, slimy green animal that hops and ribbits and sleeps on things called lily pads and has a long tongue for catching food”. The next entry in the Webster lexicon is “frog-g-g” which reads “a big-g-g stinky shit log-g-g that can suck my hairy balls-g-g.” It seems that the contradiction between cover art and actual movie has once again proven that there is a reciprocity law at work in the video store; the better the cover, the worse the movie. What’s the old saying? You can’t judge a whore by her arm hair. How could one g-g-go wrong with a video jacket that features a giant frog, a cowboy, and the word “pussies”? Well, if you so dare, inquire within. And if you so double dare, then pull my crotch-finger and see what color slime hits you in the face.

It’s a story we’ve heard before. A mutated giant frog dominates a small town by sniffing out human females and having his way with them. Well, “frog” is a strong word, and that’s why we use “frog-g-g” for this poorly disguised stuntman. Okay, to be fair, bad costuming can often work to one’s favor. I’m thinking specifically of your sister’s Hoover Vac getup from last Halloween. It was the first, second, and third time hand-painted Styrofoam ever sucked my dick. And when she implemented the brush attachment, the pleasure experienced by my scrotum was sublime. She even outdid her Markie Post costume from three years back and that’s a tough one to top. The female mullet had not seen such glory since the Night Court days. El Santo said that if you turned her around, ventured through the back door of the navy blue skirt, and squinted just right, it looked like you were ass-raping MacGuyver. Where’s your duct tape now, bitch? Oh yeah, it’s over your mouth. Anyway, the point is that I’m not going to be one to discredit this piece of shit just because the “monster” (which by the way took his sweet-ass time making an appearance) was a man wearing a extra-large green condom (purchased used from myself on e-bay) and prancing about as if battling the hemorrhoid flare-up from hell. In fact, it was these factors alone that made the movie even bearable at moments. Frog-g-g’s debut skip-to-my-lou across the highway in the middle of the night was a display of grace worthy of the Heisman trophy, two Golden Gloves, and a hand job from Jitsu. If Frogger only had such skill, he could coast on autopilot and not give a damn which floating turd could seal his fate. And if Dig Dug only had such skill, he could have two extra g’s too. Say it three times fast: Dig Dug-g-g, Dig Dug-g-g, Dig Dug-g-g. And there you have it – the soundtrack to the moment when your dad fucked your mom on dryer number 3 at the all-night Mexican Laundromat where they conceived your ass. And you wonder why every time it gets warm, you start tumbling.

However, let us not forget that this movie sucked. The lesbians were about as titillating as a court order for child support for Jem. (And you didn’t think dolls could sue.) There should be a cardboard standup at the entrance to lesbianism that reads, “You must be at least this hot to rub cleavages together.” The worst thing though was the pace. This movie was slower than a Lutheran sea turtle on a date. Since when has anyone watching a movie about a giant frog that rapes co-eds cared about how and why the frog came into existence? It’s just common sense. The only thing that sucked worse than the movie was the making-of documentary. I mean, if I squeeze a green turd out of my ass after five bowls of Booberry Crunch, I ain’t gonna document that shit to show everyone how proud I am. I can appreciate the effort to fashion a movie after seventies drive-in camp, but when you fail miserably to come up with something even remotely entertaining, you just look like the kid who threatens the school bully with karate moves then ends up munching on his own ass as he sits stuffed in a small trashcan three hours later. And that’s where these filmmakers need to be – stuffed in a trashcan munching on their dry assholes and thinking about what they’ve done. So, to answer your question: yes, turkeys have pussies, but no, you do not get sleepy from fucking one, so you’re safe on that count. Thus, the next time ol’ butterball gives you the sultry eye while driving home late one night, go for it. Nothing wrong with Thanksgiving in July.

-General Zod

Our Rating System

Mr. Paul: "I can relate to this film because one time I got stiff-armed by a frog-g-g on the football field too. But it turns out it was just green Jimmy... and it wasn't an arm."

Z-man: "When are lesbian titties a bad thing? When they're attached to a triceratops." "

Ookla The Mok: "The movie doesn't deserve any stars at all, but those extra G's each get one. They are just so much damn fun-n-n."

General Zod: "G-G-GAY."

Lei Tzu Tse says: "That titty needs a telethon."