The Voracious Voyeur was the name of the drive-in theater that sat on the outskirts of a two-bit desert city. The two V's in the name jutted out the top of the sign with an animated neon picture of a set of jaws engulfing a 50's classic roadster designed in the googie style of architecture that pervaded the entire lot. It really was a relic, still maintaining it's celluloid film reel projector and speaker stands for individual vehicles.
The concession booth was there mostly to pacify its human customers with overpriced popcorn and snacks of processed meats with questionable consistencies. It was attended at the moment by a twitchy crocotta whose teeth were always bared and fur that was a greasy disaster that put the food selection to shame and his human co worker who was constantly shifting his eyes to the other nervously. If he was lucky, the crocotta would be turned off by his horrible case of acne.
All other food items were to be found in the parking lot...for the monsters. The privacy of watching a movie from a within a vehicle as well as the freedom to choose from a broad selection of couples for a monster couple to share. Drive-ins were meant to be romantic, after all.
Juxtaposed to the setting was the film itself; an accomplishment in cinematography featuring a story chock-full of charismatic lead monsters, gratuitous sex, ultraviolence, and human consumption. Box office gold. Thus the collection of viewers filled the spots to the maximum. Bikes, sports cars, military vehicles, and even classics that complimented the aged look of theater were parked in parallel as the screen blazed with the first major battle of the flick.
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