The teacher is taking her five teen-aged girls on a field trip to Case Grande in Chihuahua, Mexico. Well, actually, they never make it to Mexico. The bus breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the driver can't fix it. However, three motorcyclists come along and, though they can't fix it either, they are willing to hitch their hogs to the bus and tow it to a gas station.
They don't. They tow it down a dusty dirt road to a dilapidated wooden cabin where they hold the teacher and her brood captives.
One of the cyclists is an okay dude, having just met the other two on the road. You can tell he's a good guy because he's the only one who wears a safety helmet and doesn't take swigs out of a bottle of hootch. He's aghast when they arrive at the cabin. The bus driver objects as well and is promptly run over and killed.
The two bad motorcyclists tie up the good one and walk around menacing the terrified teacher and the nubile girls. The chief bad guy, Zalman King, does nothing but sneer. And that's understandable. King's features are such that his default expression is a sneer. Even when he smiles he sneers. And when he actually TRIES to sneer -- well, just look out, that's all. The guy has a nose on him that beats any other nose in the animal kingdom, a fleshy, drooping protrusion that must have been a horror in itself on the giant drive-in screen. He adds to the effect by wearing a pair of giant wraparound sunglasses tilted upward distally so that he resembles an alien "Gray".
Both the bad guys are just out of the slams, and they really are bad, but King is the badder of the two. He gets even worse, if that's possible, when he tries to act. He has these terrific disabling headaches like Cody Jarett. (Kids, you'll have to look that up.) Or maybe Julius Caesar. (You may have to look that up too.) But what does it matter if he can't act? Nobody can act. And the director can't direct, and the sound sounds like mush, and the photographic images are those of an 8 mm. Brownie home movie camera.
Here's a sample of the dialog. The good motorcyclist is commiserating over the bus driver's death with one of the girls.
Motorcyclist: "Just be glad it wasn't you."
Girl: "What do you mean by that?"
The girls at least are cute in their diverse ways. Some of them wear skirts so short that one wishes for a time machine. That succulent blond has a magnificent gluteal sulcus. I felt kind of sorry for the brunette with the barrettes in her hair, the one with the narrow shoulders and innocently pinched features. She looks really scared. And then Big Bad Al has to chase her down in the woods, shove her unblemished face into the sand, and smother her without even disrobing her like he did with the teacher.
What a skank! But he gets his in the end. The teacher that he raped, pillaged, and debauched gets him from behind and manages to shove an iron pole through his abdomen, back to front, and the director gives Al a full minute of sneering while trying to look agonized, gargling with pain, and slowly stumbling around with his pole sticking through him, before falling to the ground, rolling his head to the side, and being still. This indicates that he's dead.
I hardly noticed it. The whole movie was in that condition from the beginning. It would have been of more interest had the tour reached Casa Grande and the director had given us a travelogue of the Mesoamerican community and its historic inhabitants. Did you know that the Aztecs had a kind of currency? They used cocoa beans.
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