The movie created by Magic Shadows! No, don't get your hopes up, it's the name of the production company, not actual magic shadows... bastards. This piece of Sci-Fi excrement is one of those damn "look at your enemies before hating them" flix where we find out that we're all the same inside. Unfortunately though, no one was disemboweled, so I still don't think we're all the same inside. FUTURE-KILL starts off with 2 MAD MAX refugees (or modern techno patrons if you'd prefer) bitching about violating peace treaties or something. MAD MAX psychos discussing politics?! Sweet merciful crap! Well, not so sweet, even less merciful crap. We then cut to... a frat kegger?! Yep! Complete with booze, chicks in panties, and good ol' fashioned tar and featherin! To pay for their "inappropriate" deeds on campus, the preppy jox are dressed in face paint and told to kidnap a "mutant" (which is what they call anyone who doesn't wear Tommy Hilfiger or Dock Martins) political protestor. But the tables are turned, as the freaks hunt their preppy asses down! YEAH! The freak leader should have a name that strikes terror into the hearts of their conservative enemies... this one does NOT. This guy's name is Splatter... SPLATTER?! Yeah, strikes fear into my heart. Nuclear power and modern technology have turned him into a cyborg cretin... and it apparently caused more shrinkage than 30 degree bath water, if what the one slut says is any indication. HAHA! The preps get split up, 2 befriend a freak girl while the other 3 get into something like 4 or 5 fights, then they get back together and wind up in a booby trapped apartment building with ol' Splatter himself (and his goons). Splats gets his guts speared, then drown in radiation and he fries. Of all the guns you see in this movie, the only thing that gets shot is ONE cat... ONE FUCKING CAT!? What is the point in carrying a gun if you're not gonna use it?! These guys where about as useful as RAMBO extras...

Also Known As: SPLATTER

Sequels: sweet Giger no!

If You Liked This Flick, Check Out: shooting yourself in the foot, then slowly working your way up until you either hit something vital or bleed to death.