by Jim Nintzel
So I finally made it over to the Loft to see Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead. It's your typical all-hell-breaks-loose-when-a-fast-food-chicken-joint-is-built-on-a-haunted-Indian-graveyard kind of flick.
It's from the twisted freaks at Troma, so I expected the bad acting, the crude humor, the gross, gross, gross explosions of all manner of bodily fluids from every imaginable orifice.
I didn't expect all the lesbatrons, or that it would be a musical.
If all of that sounds like your thing, you've got two more nights to see it, because the run ends Thursday. Showtime is 10 p.m.