Stuffed with nearly all the essential ingredients for a '50s drive-in classic -- including rubber monsters, clean-cut biker gangs, countless inane rock & roll numbers, and twistin' teeny-boppers who appear to be about 35 -- this uproariously awful monster flick has secured a fond place in the hearts of bad-movie buffs. The horror of the title comes in the form of numerous scaly creatures whose fishy mouths are filled with a tube-like apparatus that makes them appear stuffed to overflowing with frankfurters. Spawned from both human remains and sea life (thanks to a healthy dose of ocean-dumped radioactive waste), the monsters emerge from the sea to dine on surfers and bikini-clad nymphs during a nearly constant teen beach party. Allen Laurel portrays a completely useless scientist who manages to find a solution to the monster menace only after his maid knocks over a vial of sodium on a specimen of one such creature. Armed with this knowledge, Laurel locates the flooded quarry that serves as the beasts' lair, allowing the military to give the critters what-for with a hail of sodium bombs. Director Del Tenney reportedly helmed several scenes from his sickbed while battling the flu... which probably explains quite a lot. The soundtrack features a plentitude of non-hits performed by surf-rockers The Del-Aires (named after the director?) including the toe-tapper "Zombie Stomp."