A droning narrator tells us about the legend of THE CREMATORS: Three hundred years ago, giant, flaming cheeezeballs from outer space enjoyed chasing native Americans around, before reducing them to ashes.
Now, Dr. Iane Thorne (Marvin Howard), who writes "bug books", has discovered a glowing rock in his pool, while Mason (aka: "The Hippie") runs around holding cats over his head. Soon, Dr. Thorne is performing a feline autopsy and the local postman is a pile of cinders.
It appears that the rolling orbs of fiery death have returned, for reasons known only to whatever cult of cat-waving hippies threw this "film" together. In no time, unknown non-actors are consumed in flame like so many no-name marshmallows! Romance blooms for Thorne and the first woman he's seen in years. Is there no god in heaven to put a stop to this?
Absurd and terminally dull, this movie is only for those few, brave souls able to withstand a severe brain hammering!
BEWARE: The tedium contained herein could douse the sun! So, wear protective gear!
P. S.- For added "fun", see if you can count the number of times the word "bug" is used!...