Cannibal Campout (1988) – Jon McBride & Tom Fisher.

Four holidaying dumbphucks on a kill-fated outing in the blackened bum cleft of no-phooken-where are gruesomely set upon by grievously grot guzzling, flesh frenzied cannibal Killbillies in this guilelessly splat-happy 80s S.O.V blood-spiller. Sordidly spattered with more slitherous intestines than a direct hit on a Sumo wrestling training camp!!! Fuglier than week-old roadkill! Hotter than a bungled Eggnog enema!!! and stupider than a canapé of candied cretins!!! Cannibal Campout remains the kind of tawdry retrograde slasher that should have been flushed away with the soiled scrap of arse rag it was benightedly scrawled upon. Exploitation Maven Mahnfahrt Panzerflesh controversially bestowed this odoriferous pile of celluloid snot an inexplicably lofty 10 Body Bags rating??!!! Turgid, woefully acted, and palpably smelly, Cannibal Campout has all the refined cinematic appeal of a ruptured honey wagon, and I still massively hate myself for momentarily enjoying this gracelessly sanguineous S.O.V spazzout. Like the bloody French and their foul-smelling maggoty cheeses, beauty is very much in the pinkeye of the bog holder, dude!