Top 5 Sharknado sequel ideas
- Niki Boyle
- 30 August 2013
With a Sharknado sequel already greenlit, we imagine other potential sealife-weather disaster flicks
As you may or may not already know, low budget disaster-horror-comedy Sharknado – which is exactly what it sounds like – has swept over critics and audiences like some massive, carnivorous, freak meteorological calamity. The greenlit sequel – whose title, Sharknado 2: The Second One, is a masterclass in deadpan brilliance – may appear to be more of the same, but we reckon there's a boatload of sealife/weather-based concepts that have yet to be explored. Here's our top five.
You may think those are just small balls of ice falling from the sky, but look closer and you'll see a tiny set of pincers, eight legs and a lust for destruction. Once these miniature asteroids hit the ground and shatter, a swarm of deadly crabs is set to take over your neighbourhood, city – and eventually, the world.
The sight of highways cracking open beneath your feet is horrendous enough – but imagine if, from those deathly fissures, there burst forth thousands of massive, writhing tentacles, smashing cars, swatting passers by into the depths of oblivion, and causing hazardous road surfaces with their ink squirts. Yes, we know that last bit's actually done by octopi, but we'll be damned if we ain't gonna have some inky carnage.
Two young lovers are out for a walk on a summer's day. They get caught in a sudden downpour – while the young man wants to take shelter under a nearby tree, however, his free-spirited paramour starts twirling and laughing in the rain. Taken by her infectious joie de vivre, our young hero steps forward, takes her in his arms, and just at the moment when they're about to kiss – they're struck from above by a massive conger eel, thrashing about in a terrifying mess of teeth and dead eyes. Also: electric eel lightning.
Portuguese man o' warm front
It's a bit muggy outside. Is it because a mass of warm air is displacing a mass of cold air, creating thick cirrostratus and altostratus clouds that apply massive troughs of pressure across the landscape, eventually leading to a nimbostratus downpour? Or is it because the clouds are filled with masses of deadly jellyfish, waiting for their first opportunity to descend? We bet it's the second one.
It's so foggy, you didn't see that shark on the ground in front of you. It bites your leg off. Mental.