Horrendous film

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar (being digested by the stomach excretions of a demon-possessed murderous bed.)
Seriously, we'd love to know what the director's vision was for Six Pack Sam. Did he stumble upon a script written in tongues in a flesh-bound ancient tome that would consume his soul and murder his sweet old granny unless he shot a painful trainwreck of a feature film with it? Did somebody bet him 50 bucks that he couldn't convince anyone to appear in a movie about a killer bed that gives away the entire plot in its own title, and he didn't give a *beep* about anything beyond that? Or the worst possibility of all, did he actually think this was a legitimate work of art or high-concept parody?

We hope like hell this wasn't supposed to be funny - at least, not the laughing with it kind of funny. Yet the tumor-inducing sound track and bizzare, overblown acts smothering practically every scene like a geriatric Powerball winner in a seedy nursing home do seem to point in the latter direction.