Table Read - SuburbaKnight - Act 2

Episode Date: August 25, 2026

SUBURBAKNIGHT: Act Two Walter Knope has finally discovered the one thing worse than suspecting your new neighbor is a sex demon. Being right. Inside Richard's immaculate house, Walter gets the confirmation he was looking for. The Maitlands are dead. Richard isn't human. And he isn't just interested in Samantha. He wants everything Walter has. Walter tries to warn Sam. It goes badly. What starts as an argument about Richard quickly becomes an argument about money, sex, failure, jealousy and every other thing a married couple has been politely not saying out loud. Sam packs a bag. Walter, terrified Richard will get to her, practically helps her leave. Written by Nick Bannister, SUBURBAKNIGHT is a wicked suburban horror-comedy about marriage, masculinity and what happens when your midlife crisis actually grows horns. Walter needs someone who understands monsters. Enter Bobby Joe Williams. Local horror host. Full-time drunk. Part-time monster expert. Possibly the least reassuring person you could want standing between your family and eternal damnation. Bobby Joe confirms the bad news. Richard is an incubus. He feeds on souls, controls his victims through desire and, unfortunately, appears to be immortal. Meanwhile, Richard has already started remaking the neighborhood. Walter goes looking for Andy and instead finds him dead in the bathtub, his wife Alli transformed into something considerably less neighborly. Walter barely escapes with his life. Then Samantha comes home. Richard is waiting. This time, Sam sees him too. When Richard finally drops the charm and shows them what he really is, he offers Walter everything he ever wanted. Money. Freedom. A fresh start. All he wants in return is Samantha. Walter says no. Then Mia introduces Richard's face to a medieval mace. For a moment, it feels like the Knopes may actually have this thing under control. Then Richard takes their daughter. Now Walter and Sam are done running. They need Mia back. They need help. Unfortunately, the closest thing they have to a professional is Bobby Joe Williams in boxer shorts drinking margarita straight from a blender pitcher. So they do what any responsible parents would do. They raid the failed antique business. Crossbow. Mace. Axe. Sword. Armor. Walter's junk has finally found a purpose. And across the street, Richard is waiting. Starring Darin Toonder, Jim O'Heir, Jade Tailor, Jack Daniel, Rob Fitzgerald, Logan Laurel, Emily Brolin, Ashley Platz, and Zeke Alton. Produced by Table Read Podcast and Manifest Media Productions, LLC. Executive Produced by Jack Levy, Shaan Sharma, and Mark Knell.  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

If your bookshelf and your for-you page are equally important to your personality, welcome home. Pro Society is a weekly podcast that's part book club, part group chat for anyone who thinks pride and prejudice and love island deserve the same level of discourse. Each week, we're connecting the dots between books, the internet, and pop culture with your favorite writers, book talk creators, and plenty of overthought opinions. Yeah, I'm obsessed. I'm obsessed. Listen to Pro Society on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, this is Hayes Davenport. And Sean Clements. We host the podcast, Hollywood Handbook.

Each week, we talk to someone in show business and try to help them with their careers and see what they have to offer us. Everyone has a good time and no one gets mad at their publicists for letting them do our show. We've had a lot of great guests like Sarah Sherman, Adam Scott, Danny McBride, Ben Stillard, and a lot of other big shots that wouldn't be where they are without us. Listen to Hollywood Handbook on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Nick Tuttle. You probably know me from NYPD Blue, The Longest Yard, or Spike Lease Black Klansman.

And on my new podcast, Delivering Happiness with Nick Tatoro, I deliver pizza to a new guest. I've shared a slice with everyone, from Seth Rollins. What are you doing, my belt? To Bill Burr. I don't think I've ever met somebody

so exactly out of their mind as I am. And now, we even have more great guests coming up, including the great John Tuturo. It's called Happiness, Delivering Happiness. And many, many more. Open your free High Heart Radio app, search delivering happiness with Nick Tuttle. And listen now. I'm Hoda Cotney, host of the podcast, Joy 101 with Hoda Cotty. You know, I'm always searching for inspiration and useful tools to maximize

joy. Like when my friend Henry Winkler offered advice to aspiring actors and really anybody hoping to stand out. You're not hired just to fill time and space. You're hired to fill the space with you. Listen to Joy 101 with Hoda Kotby on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Previously on Suburbanite. All right, if you're just tuning in, you missed a real feel-good story about a man getting his ass kicked by life in record time. We got this guy, Walter Knope. Good guy, bad luck. Pretty much everything that can go wrong in his life is going wrong.

and just when he thinks things couldn't get any worse, like it worse, much worse. A new neighbor moves in across the street, names Richard, sounds like a real dick to me. Anyway, this guy shows up out of nowhere, moves in under the cover of darkness, and looks like he walks straight out of a Cologne commercial directed by a Vladian paler.

And wouldn't you know it, people start disappearing. Poor Walters there are snoo. Nooping on his new neighbor and boom, catches him in all his demon glory. No one believes them, of course. They never do in these movies. In fact, everybody seems to love the guy, even Walter's wife. But we're still getting to that part. Anyway, folks, those TerraVision totals so far,

we have got two working girls' breasts, one decapitated head, one confirmed midnight freak show, zero people who believe the hero, and one neighbor who is absolutely not what he says he is. All right, we're going to take a short break. When we come back, things are going to get a whole lot worse. Don't go anywhere. Good job.

Suburbanite, Act 2. Exterior, Walter's house, morning. Walter in a bathrobe holding a cup of coffee, waits by the front door as a police cruiser rounds the corner and stops in front of his house. Two police officers step out, one male, one female, both mid-20s. Walter takes a big gulp from his coffee, burns his mouth, and sets it on the porch railing as he approaches the officers. Hey, were you the one that made the call? Yeah, yeah, it's this way.

You said you found a head? Well, no, I didn't find a head. Walter looks back at Sam. She rolls her eyes and heads inside. Walter leads the cops to Richard's door. He rings the doorbell. Interior, Richard's house, Dave. Richard opens the front door to see Walter and the two cops. Oh, hello, officers.

Walter. That's him. Walter slinks behind the two officers. Oh, we have a report of a homicide occurring inside. Mind if we look around? Richard tongues his cheek. Of course. I have nothing to hide.

Come in. Richard lets the officers pass him by. As Walter walks past. Oh, that's nice. That wasn't highlighted. Oh, I'm sorry. Oh, could you do this? Ooh. Can you imagine?

That is tough. And you were riding high on that Red Sox score. And now, look at you! Of course, I could have just said, read the word Richard on there, too. It's all right. It's all right. I'm just going to die.

It makes sense. We all are someday. I only read what's on the teleprompter. All right. Let's go with Richard. Yeah. Okay. Richard lets the officers pass him by

As Walter walks past Nice to see you again Walter Interior Richard's house day The officers fan out and look around The house is finished being remodeled Now it is the epitome of modern luxury Nice place Thank you

I feel the beauty of a soul is a hidden gem Richard gazes deep into the officer's eyes For a moment she can't look away She pulls herself away Clears her throat. Uh, sure, uh, sure. Interior Richards House, Kitchen Day. The officers look around casually.

Eh, this all looks pretty normal. What? You haven't even looked. What about upstairs? What about it? That's where it happened. Where? What happened? The murder! Oh, God, heaven, you've been listening to me?

He had horns and glowing eyes. And we're done here. He killed someone. I saw him. Unfortunately, Walter suffers from night tears and seems to have had suffered another one last night. I'm so sorry, Walter. I hear they're quite terrible. Oh, you son of them.

All right, let's go. That's enough. The officers head for the door. Exterior, Richard Towns Day. The officers head for their patrol car. Please. You have to believe me. You call us again and we'll bust you for filing a false report.

You don't understand. The officers climb into their patrol car and speed away, leaving Walter literally. dust. Walter looks up back at Richard, leaning against his doorframe, eating a peach. Oh, by the way, Samantha RSVPed for tomorrow. Feel free to stay at home if you wish. I can always keep a company. Damn. Richard smirks and tosses the peach, which rolls into Walter's foot, dripping its juices onto the ground. Exterior, Richard's house, front porch, day.

Walter and Sam stand awkwardly in the porch of the now fully renovated modern mansion. Walter wears a casual suit and Sam wears a dress with a dress wrap over her bare shoulders. I can't believe you won't listen to me. I can't believe you call the cops over some ridiculous nightmare. Horns, really? Okay, it wasn't a nightmare, Sam. I saw him murder someone. He was some kind of a thing.

Walter... Sam presses the doorbell, Walter sighs. Okay. I'm not crazy. Okay? I know what I saw. I never said you were crazy. You said that. I never said that. Oh, well, you were thinking it. So what, Walter? He crawled out of hell

so he could just lure a few suburbanites over to his house and eat them for dinner. Is that what you're saying? The door opens. Richard greets them with a warm smile and open arms. In his hands, a bloody knife and an overly large William Sonoma two-pronged grill fork. Ah, howdy neighbors?

Walter and Sam's smiles drop. I was just working the grill. Come on. The party is just getting started. Richard leads them inside. Walter holds Sam back a moment. Sam, please. Okay, yes, maybe it was a dream. Maybe I'm a huge embarrassment to you, but just stay close to me, okay?

Sam loops her on through his. Always. They hit inside, arm and arm. Interior, Richard's house, day. The interior of the house is updated and modern, very bright and inviting, expensive. A metal live, laugh, love, sign, and script hangs on the wall. Holy shit. She looks around the newly renovated home.

Walter scopes out the place. Remind me to get the name of your interior decorator before we leave. Of course. May I take your coats? Oh, fancy. I enjoy being a polite host. Please. Sam turns. Richard takes her purse and shoulder wrap.

Walter is distracted as he looks around the house. When he looks back, he sees Richard's hand get a little too touchy with his wife's shoulder. Oh, honey, let me. Walter rushes to her side and tries to grab the wrap, but Richard's got it already. Walter awkwardly plays it off. Great bones. Walter turns sharply. What?

I said the house has great bones. When a house has that, it's very easy to design something beautiful around them. Walter takes a breath. Well, it shows. Richard leads them through the house and into exterior Richard's house, backyard pool, day. The backyard is where the party is. Guests from all over the neighborhood gather around Richard's extravagant pool

mostly adults but a few of their kids swim in the pool. Andy plays in the pool with a neighborhood kid. He splashes Andy. No fair! I said splashing's illegal! Richard leads Walter and Sam to the grill area. Walter looks around as he searches for clues. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to finally have you all to myself, Samantha.

Thank you for having us. The house looks wonderful. Richard prepares a plate of food and hands it to Sam, then on to Walter. And your daughter, Mia, will she be joining us? She has band practice. Oh, shame. I was hoping to get a taste of everyone this evening. Richard sucks the juice off his finger.

Pop. Ow. Sam! Sam turns, sees a group of women huddled together. Oh, there's Nancy. I'll be right back. Sam. It's just Nancy. I'll be fine, Walter.

Sam heads over to them. Walter watches her closely. You a breast man, Walter? Walter turned sharply. Richard opens the grill. Several large chicken breasts cook. Or are you a leg, man? Cute. Loosen up, Walter. It's a party. Walter! Hey, Walter! Across the yard from the women, a group of men, all the husbands, huddled around an outdoor TV. Walter approaches. Richard watches intently as he leaves.

Exterior, Richard's house, food table, day. A group of women have gathered near the snack table away from the main party. In addition to Sam, there's Diane, Nancy, and Karen, all in their pastel active wear, and also Ali, 30s, Andy's wife, in comfy but unfashionable attire. Oh, God, isn't he just scrumptious? Diane watches Richard as he laughs loudly with a group of partygoers. Don't you just want to eat him up? So how is Steve?

Steve hasn't made me come in years. Sam chokes. The other women laugh. Ali scarves... Did Sean give you your own, you're acting with yourself? Mm-hmm. Oh, that's lovely.

Sorry. She's killing it. One more time. Did you want me to do? No, no, I was just, you know. This is the only time it happened. I was secure it. Diane watches.

Sorry. Diane watches Richard as he laughs loudly with a group of partygoers. Don't you just want to eat him up? So how's Steve? Steve hasn't made me come in years. Sam chokes. The other women laugh. Ali scarfs down her entire plate of food.

Sam looks at her, curious. Andy spent all our money on video games. I haven't eaten anything but noodles and potatoes for like three days. She dumps a plate of hors d'oeuvres into her purse. She notices Sam's... staring at her, shrugs. Diane ogles the bulge in Richard's trousers. I bet it's huge.

God, Diane, get a vibrator. I've gone through three this year. They just can't keep up. I need to feel something warm inside me, like throbbing, you know? The other women know. They fan themselves. Sam is uncomfortable. What about Walter?

Is his soldiers still not salooning? That's not fair. Walter works hard. He's stressed. Oh, well, you'd never have to be stressed again with a man like that. They watch in awe as Richard takes off his shirt and pants only in a speedo now and performs a perfect dive off the diving board into the pool. Slow motion, Richard climbs the ladder out of the pool. Water drips off his perfect body. He slicks back his hair. The bulge in his pants seems to grow twice its size. The women intently watch every harrowing second, jaws open.

Exterior, Richard Touse, backyard day. Walter chats with a group of men. Andy uses a damp towel around his shoulders to dry his hair. They're joined by Steve, 40s, Diane's husband, and two other men, Bill 40s and Allen, 40s. Walter watches as the women ogle, Richard. But the other husbands remain oblivious. All are focused on the college football game on the outdoor TV,

except for Andy, who's only focused on cleaning the water out of his ears. Hey, Steve? Hell, you guys seeing this? Steve barely responds, still locked onto the TV. Huh? Yeah, yeah, sure. Knocked up out. Who does this guy think he is?

I think Richard's awesome. Have you guys been in a bounce house yet? Andy eats a cheeseburger with one hand. The other men have beer for lunch. How can we compete with that? He's handsome and successful and confident. Don't forget. Rich. Oh, thanks, Andy. Okay, what does he even do? And like, like, what is his job? Well, he told me he designs

playgrounds for underprivileged kids with disabilities. Okay, I mean, what does that even mean? Come on, he's just like this perfect human who makes every woman to lay his eyes on to go weak in the knees. Like, what, they can't help themselves? Flash, the red-faced demon from last night's terror vision with a glowing eyes hypnotizes that woman. Walter looks again at the women fawning over Richard. They can't help themselves. Walter pulls Andy aside. Andy, you watch Bobby Joe?

Oh, yeah. I mean a bunch of guys live-tweeted every week. Okay, you know that one from last night? Which one? Incubis of death or cannibal apocalypse? I don't know, the demon one. Incubis, Walter? Not a demon.

An idiot knows that. Fine, an incubus. What does it do? He takes a pompous bite out of the oozing burger. His mouth full of burger, he tries to sound snooty and smart. An incubus is a... The kind of male demon that seduces women and steals their energy, their life force, if you will. Andy, this may sound crazy, but I think Richard's one.

Andy almost chokes on his burger. Wait, really? After he bought the house, I saw him take two body bags. No one who's seen or heard from the Maitland since. And last night, I think I saw him kill someone upstairs. And now this! Walter looks over at the women. But Walt, I mean, Richard is great.

You know, he builds hospitals in third world countries and just donate something? Like for free, man. It's an act. He'll do or say anything to make himself more desirable, all so he can... So he can build more hospitals? Oh, diabolical. No, Andy. Walter looks around.

I need you to create a distraction so I can go inside and look around. But Andy is already off. He kicks over the grid and the cannonballs him to the food. Distraction! Everyone screams at him. Richard looks at Andy, angry. Walter sneaks inside Richard's home. Interior Richard's house, night.

Walter sneak walks inside the house and carefully closes the patio door behind him. He heads up the stairs as quietly as he can. Interior Richard's house upstairs, night. He turns and sees the bedroom just as modern and perfect as everything else in the house. Interior Richard's house bedroom night. Walter looks out the window, sees his own bedroom. window. He wipes a finger along the glass, spotless. He looks at the floor, again, clean. Walter rummages through the bedside table, then the dresser, then even under the mattress. His exasperated sigh

tells exactly how much he found. He throws open the closet door, hoping to catch something red-handed. Find any skeletons in the closet, Walter? Walter, but, hey. Did he? Ooh. Find any skeletons in the closet, Walter? Walter turns. Richard leans against the open door frame. Huh?

Oh, I just, uh, you know, I got all turned around in this place. It's so big and empty. Richard laughs under his breath. Walter, there's no need to lie. Satisfy your curiosity. It'll do you good. He does. Richard sits on the edge of the bed, crosses his legs, while Walter looks around. You know, my wife really loves what you've done with this house.

Personally, I think it's a little cold. Like a tomb. Walter continues to look around the bedroom, Richard Smurts. Sam, she thinks I'm going crazy, you know? More bad dreams, Walter. Too much television before bed. Yeah, well, maybe I am losing it. Cracking under the pressure, I guess.

Or maybe you really were my room last night. Who knows? Richard watches Walter intently. But Sam, she doesn't see what I see. She sees all the money in the house and the good... looks. We both know it's all bullshit. If you're trying to impress someone, you're aiming way too high. I mean, Diane will fuck anything with a puss. Oh, Pulse. We've learned something new about Diane. Diane is bisexual. And I'm not against it. I love her for her. Yes. God bless her.

But Sam. No, no, Sam, she doesn't see what I see. She sees all the money in the house and the good looks. We both know it's all bullshit. You're trying to impress someone? You're aiming way too high. I mean, Diane, Diane will fuck anything with a pulse, so why go to all the effort? What are you after? Really? Richard stays silent, smirks. What did you do to the Maitlands?

You saw what I did with him. Flash, the body bags being carried out to the moving truck in the dead of night. Walter gulps down air. You? They outlive their usefulness. Walter's scared. Now, his eyes dart to the door. I'll tell the police.

Again, Walter? Well, if you think it'll go better than last time, then by all means. Richard grabs the phone and dials 911. The other end picks up and Richard holds the phone out for Walter. The operator can be heard on the other end. 911, what's your emergency? They're waiting, Walter. Walter is speechless.

Sorry, wrong number. Richard hangs it up. We both know they wouldn't believe you anyway, Walter. Richard stands and approaches Walter. Why are you telling me all this? Why does an animal play with its food? Richard caresses Walter's face. Well, I'm sure Sam is wondering why you've left her alone again.

But then again, she's used to the disappointment. Richard smiles. Walter punches him across the face. Stay away from her. Richard explodes with anger. The room shifts, darker, neon colors. Richard's face now looks wrong, demonic, horned. His eyes glow a fierce red in the dark. He grabs Walter by the throat and hurls him up against

the wall. Walter struggles to breathe as he notices Richard hands as scaly and rough, his nails sharp and pointed. Walter can't move, can't breathe. He struggles, but it's useless. I've told you before, Walter, that I take what I want, and I want everything that's yours. Why don't you just kill me then? After I'm done devouring your wife's soul, I won't have to. I'll make her do it, and the last thing you will see is the woman you love eating your face. Richard drops Walter. Walter calls the gas for breath. Party's this way, Walter.

Desert's next. Chocolate cake. My own recipe. You know, they say it's an aphrodisiac, but I guess we'll just have to judge for ourselves. Richard adjusts his hair, so it's perfect once again. Demon Richard is scaring the shit out. Damn. Richard leaves, closes the door behind him.

Walter stays behind, finally breathes, terrified. Interior, Richard's house, backyard pool, night. The party has moved to a massive outdoor table, covered in a massive feast. Walter hurries out of the house, finds Sam, and heads for her. Are you all right? You were gone a while. We're leaving. Walter grabbed Sam by the arm.

Walter. He hurries them both away. Richard clanks a spoon on his wine glass. The noise stops. Sam and Walter in their tracks. Richard raises the glass for a toast. To new friends. All the women raise their glasses.

To new friends. Richard looks over pointedly to Sam and Walter. Every woman's eyes at the table are locked on Richard. Exterior, Richard House, front porch night. The evening has come to an end. Everyone politely filters out. A group of women have encircled Richard. Walter drags Sam away without stopping.

Walter. He doesn't stop. Sam attempts to wave goodbye. Richard waves back. When she's gone, his smile drops like a stone. Interior, Walter's house night. The fight spills into their house. Sam, listen to me.

What is it about him, Walter? That makes you so insecure. I am not insecure. I don't know how to explain what just happened. Well, you better learn. He is a demon, Sam. Some kind of monster or something. Oh, my God, Walter.

Have you lost your mind? Okay, don't you think it's weird how charming he is, that every woman at the party was drooling over him? He's rich and interesting and well-traveled. How could they not? So, you admit it. Walter! Look, I know this has been hard for you, but you are projecting everything you hate about yourself onto him. You're broke, he's rich. You hate the way you look. He's gorgeous. He's successful, and you're... Go on. Go on. Yeah, go on, Sam. Say it. Tell me that I am a failure. that the shop was pointless to keep open.

I know you. I hate this whole thing. Let me do it again. Go on. Go on, say it. Tell me that I am a failure, Sam. The shop was pointless to keep open. I know you thought it.

Walter, why are you so jealous of him? Shouldn't I be? I saw how you were looking at him. Oh, what, you think I want to sleep with him? Well, I sure as hell know, we're not sleeping together. She doesn't speak, but her eyes say everything. Sam? She turns and heads upstairs.

Sam, wait! Walter follows her upstairs. Interior, Walter's house bed at night. Walter enters and sees Sam packing a suitcase. What are you doing? What does it look like, Walter? Samantha. Just for a couple days, I just need to get away for a minute.

Walter gets an idea, becomes very enthusiastic. I think that's a great idea. Sam stops. You do? Yeah. Somewhere far away? I don't even want to know where. Just clear your head, you know?

Here. Walter helps her pack, just throws whatever clothes he can into the suitcase and forces it closed. He hands it to her. Ugh. Interior, Walter's house, night. Sam stomps down the stairs in her dress with her overflowing suitcase for the front door. It'll be good for us, you know? Walter.

Call me when you get there. Walter smiles. Sam, fuming, exits. Exterior, Walter's house night. Walter watches as she gets in the car and drives off. She's pissed. When she's gone, Walter's smile drops. She'll understand.

Eventually, I hope. Walter turns to head back inside, but sees something outside the corner of his eye. Richard on his porch, watching. Walter heads inside. Interior, Walter's house night. Walter trips over the mace in the hallway. What? He sighs and puts it back on the shelf where it belongs.

There, he notices a few more items, a medieval sword and shield, a spear, a few blades, a crossbow. Walter picks up the crossbow and starts fucking around with it, holds it like he's in battle. Oh, I'm Richard. I'm so rich and handsome. Everyone wants to fuck me. The crossbow accidentally fires. The bolt flies across the room into a framed wedding photo of Sam and Walter right through Walter's head. Walter puts the crossbow down and picks up the photo. He yanks out the bolt and looks at the hole where his head used to be.

Walter sighs. Exterior, Richard's house, backyard pool, night. Richard, shirtless, stands in front of the barbecue, works the expensive grill and he pops his peck muscles. Walter wanders in, confused. He looks around. Howdy, neighbor? What are you?

What is this? Why are you grilling in the nude? Wasn't my idea. Richard points with a grill fork towards the house. The French doors blow open and long curtains billow out. Samantha steps out, wearing the sea maiden outfit from her book. Sam? She walks toward Richard, who now looks like the seaman from the book,

long hair and puffy pirate shirt. Sam embraces Richard. They kiss passionately. You're too late, Walter. Richard prepares plates of hot dogs from the grill. It's foolish to fight me. I can give Samantha more than you ever could. Wealth, happiness, passion.

But Sam, what about me? What about us? I love you. She stares into Walter's soul as the sky grows dark. The world becomes the hellscape Walter caught a glimpse of in the bedroom. I never loved you, Walter. He's devastated. Oops.

Looks like we're all out of wieners. Oh, no. Richard raises a huge knife. He stabs Walter below the belt, and we can hear the sound of him cutting something. Richard yanks the dangling piece of flesh off. Walter bleeds from his crotch, shocked but not in pain. Close up.

Richard tosses Walter's penis on the grill. It sizzles. He flips it over, sizzles some more. Richard puts the charred cock in a hot dog bun and takes a big bite. Brood goose spurts out of the peehole. Richard smiles as he choose He hands it off to Samantha And she takes a bite as well

We just do that whole thing One more time Without laughing I like to laugh I think it's great Yeah You just want to hear it again I really want to hear Jack

Say all those things Yeah It's your favorite I told them this is the reason I did this reading When I got to this point in this script I'm like oh yeah That's good That's good stuff

He can go too far. Richard raises a huge knife. He stabs Walter below the belt, and we can hear this sound of him cutting something. Richard yanks the dangling piece of flesh off. Walter bleeds from his crotch, shocked, but not in pain. Close-up, Richard tosses Walter's penis on the grill. It's scissors.

He flips it over, scissors more. Richard puts the charred cock in a hot dog bun and takes a big bite. Red goose squirts out of the peahole. Richard smiles as he choose. He hands it off to Samantha, and she takes a bite as well. Delicious. Needs mustard. Blood pools at Walter's feet.

Richard has taken more of his demon form again. Huge ram-like horns protrude and spiraled down to his shoulders. His demon eyes glow red, a forked tongue, snakes through his long, sharp teeth. Richard and Sam, both covered in blood, laugh maniacally. That's what happens when you eat penis hot dogs Interior Walter's house living room night Walter wakes with a fright remembers he's on the couch

Howdy neighbor Walter looks behind him Richard stands with sharp teeth and glowing eyes He slashes Walter across the face Huge wounds open as blood spirts over the house Walter screams Interior Walter's house living room night Walter wakes again in fright

sees he's on the couch Oh Jesus fuck He touches his face Normal He reaches for his crotch Still attached All good He sighs in relief and collapses back on the pillow

Walter sees the TV Bobby Joe is on Well that'll do it for me tonight But before I go I'm reminded of a quote by a great man A shotgun blast the face should solve any problem. It was me.

I'm the great man. Bobby Joe Williams and you've been watching Terror Vision. Walter gets an idea. Exterior production studio, day. Walter waits by his car outside a chain link fence. Beyond it, a plain building with the letters KX TV, a public broadcasting station. A familiar man exits among a group of people,

Bobby Joe Williams, who wears a cheap jacket and a cowboy hat. He smokes a cigarette as he hurries towards his shitty white panel van. Walter sees him and approaches. Mr. Williams? Bobby Joe Williams? Without stopping or turning back. It's 20 bucks for an autograph, 50 for a picture. Walter gets in front of him, walks backwards.

Mr. Williams, I don't watch your autograph. Get the hell out of my way then. No, no, no. I need your help. My help. With what? You know what? It doesn't matter. Buy me a drink and I'm yours. It's 10 o'clock in the morning.

You want my help or not, kid? Interior, bar, day. A dimly lit dive bar. Only a few customers inside. Bobby Joe walks behind the bar and pours two drinks. Oh, no, thanks. It's a bit early for me. Bobby Joe snorts, then chugs both drinks in succession,

belches. Walter is mortified. All right, kid, you got seven minutes until my next gig. Better make them count. Do you're a bartender? Not a bartender kid, too much temptation. He pours himself another drink and downs it without breaking eye contact. What do you mean?

A drinking problem. Can't be around alcohol like that. Walter is speechless. Apparently not. So you're... The bartender enters and hands Bobby Joe a pair of rubber gloves. Somebody puked in the bathroom. Bobby Joe checks his watch.

I still got four minutes. The bartender walks off. Bobby Joe glares or Walter. Time's ticket. Right. I, uh... Okay, on your show, you watch a lot of horror films.

You can't afford me. What? You want me in your movie. And if you're doing a nude scene, you're going to need a long lens. No, no, what I... I mean, no, I'm not making a movie. I think I have a demon

or something leaving next door to me. I don't really know all the rules, but I think with your expertise that you might... All right, that's a new one. Go on. I think he's killed at least one person, maybe my neighbors, too. And the women, they just fall all over themselves to get so much as a look at the guy.

The woman he killed offered her head to him, willingly. She gave him head, you mean? I'm serious. Bobby Joe takes another drink. Okay. First off, let's pretend like I believe you. Which I definitely do not. Of course.

Why would you? So, I believe you. I know exactly how to help you. What's in for me? Walter thinks, but I can't find the answer. Bobby Joe sighs, looks at his watch. Sorry, kid. Time's up.

Got to punch the clock. Bobby Joe stands. He smacks Walter on the shoulder. I hope you don't die. He walks off. I'll pay you. Bobby Joe turns on his heels, grabs Walter by the collar,

and leads him out the door. Thought you'd never ask. Lou, I'm calling in sick. Bobby Joe pretends. poorly, to cough. Yeah, real sick. Sick of your shit. Where are you taking me?

Interior, Bobby Joe's apartment, night. The door opens. Bobby Joe kicks an empty beer can as he enters his shitty apartment. Original posters featuring blown-up images of himself cover the walls. Various movie memorabilia litter the space. Oh, nice place.

You clean ladies coming by later. Bobby Joe goes to his bookcase and removes a book entitled Movie Monster. A to Z. He rips off the book jacket and replaces it with a prop version made to look like some ancient

tomb of forgotten knowledge. He opens it to the letter I and slams it on the table in front of Walter. Walter picks it up. The image is an old-timey oil painting of a winged demon sitting on a maiden's chest

as she sleeps. It reads, Incubus. What is that? A vampire? No, vampires aren't real moron. Walter seems confused. What you have is an incubus. Hey, I saw them live in 94.

Pretty good. Funny. You want my help or not? Sorry. It's a sex demon. It feeds off souls. Steels its victim's life force through... Well, uh, his Franken beans.

Ugh, there's a visual. It's like hypnosis, get me? Ferrimones or some shit. He's like one of them stinky flowers. Walter Blinks wonders if he's heard him right. I'm sorry. I thought I heard you say he was a stinky flower? Like one of them stinky flowers that lures insects into it

so it can eat them because they think it's like a dead animal. I forget what they're called. Corp flowers. Yeah, that's what I said, stinky flowers. He's a walking one of those. Except instead of insects, it's bored suburban housewives. And instead of eating them, he fucks away their life force. Or whatever.

Walter shakes his head. I don't think I like this analogy. You don't have to like a kid. You're living it. Walter thinks. How do you kill one? You can't. They're immortal, see?

Bobby Joe turns the page. A woman looks into a mirror. A demon is her reflection. Sometimes you can trap one in its own vanity, but it's not easy to do. They're a priest that tried exorcism, but it's not the usual thing. They're not.

possessing someone, their flesh and blood. Sex demons from hell. What about the women? What happens to them? Once they're under his spell, they'll give them anything. Even their souls. And the men? The husband's what happens to them? Too many cocks in the rooster house. Get me? So what do I do? How do I stop him? I mean, he's setting up shop in my neighborhood. Not my problem. What? You said you'd help me. And I have. Now, um, if you don't mind, my feet. Walter looks at the man in the barca lounger surrounded by half-empty cases of beer.

You don't believe a word I've said. Hey, don't take you personal? I don't weigh you in much. Bobby Joe sits down and puts his feet up. Oh, fuck you. Walter heads for the door, throws it out. Wait, what about my money? Walter slams the door behind him.

Bobby Joe sighs. Cracks open a cold one. Interior, Steve and Diane's bedroom. Diane sits at her vanity, earrings in hand, mascara streaking as she wipes her makeup away. She stares at her reflection, tired, disappointed. She sighs, pulls at the skin under her eyes. Angry now, she furiously wipes off her makeup, smearing it all over her face. The shadow flickers across the glass.

She looks up. Richard stands behind her in the reflection, immaculate, radiant. The kind of man she wishes still looked at her in that way. Diane startles, turns, the room is empty. She looks back into the mirror. Richard is still there, smiling. You don't need that at all. His hand brushes her cheek through the reflection.

Diane freezes, trembling. They don't see you anymore, do they? He looks right through you. You're a ghost in your own home. Diane's lips part, breath-shaking. The words cut too close. But I see you. Every line, every scar, every wrinkle he resents.

Tears roll down her cheek. She leans into his hand, touching her face only in the mirror. I see the woman who used to dance in the rain. I see the woman who just wants to be wanted. The one who aches, to be touched, to be held. I want all of you. Diane's sob turns into a gasp. His face draws closer, lips touching hers,

but only in the reflection. All you have to do is come to me. Her breath hitches. She rises, dazed, like sleepwalking. Earrings drop to the carpet. Diane heads for the back door. Exterior, suburban backyard, continuous. Diane slips out into the cool night, her nightgown fluttering.

She crosses the yard, gaze fixed on Richard's house, its upstairs window glowing warm, inviting. As she moves, the camera pulls. back we see two more women emerging from neighboring houses Nancy and yoga gear Karen in a cocktail dress and more we don't recognize a mom in slippers an elderly woman in curlers among others one by one doors creak open up and down the cul-de-sac the women converge in the shadows faces slack with lust pupils glowing frantly gr-frick the women converge in the shadows faces slack with

lust, pupils glowing... Let's try that, but pupils glowing faint... I had that line yesterday when you were younger. Dain! The women converge in the shadows, faces slack with lust, pupils glowing faintly green. In Richard's upstairs window, his silhouette waits. He raises a hand in greeting, beckoning them closer.

Exterior, Walter's house, day. Walter drags the trash cans to the curb along, head buzz from Bobby Joe's wild sex demon lecture. Oh, incubus. Sex demon. Stinky flower. Ugh. He's muttering to himself when he hears laughter up ahead.

Nancy, Diane, and Karen jogged toward him in their pastel athleisure. Only now, something's off. They look flushed, glowing, like they've been fucked stupid all night. Happier, looser, dripping satisfaction. Hey, ladies. They slow to a stop around him, circling like a pack. Their pupils glow faintly green in the sunlight. Morning, Walter.

You're looking strong today. Nice calves. Have you been working out? Walter forces a laugh, uncomfortable. How's a... How's... I know this. What's his name?

Your husband? Steve. Right, right, Steve. Steve, totally knew that. How is he? I thought maybe we'd watch a game later. They exchange a look. He's out of town.

Flash cut. Steve's face screaming as Diane smashes his head through the screen TV during a touchdown replay. Back to scene. Diane smiles a little too wide. Walter blinks. Well, darn. Maybe Bill could... Golf trip.

Flash cut. Bill getting... Brained by his own golf clubs over and over and over and over and Nancy licks drula for upper lip. Walter Swallows turns to Karen and gestures towards their overgrown yard. And Alan? I never knew that guy to let his yard go like that. Flash cut.

Alan's face screaming as Karen drives over with a lawn door. Blood sprays and sprays and sprays. Back to see him. Karen strokes Walter's chest with her finger. Business trip. Maybe you should come jogging with us sometime. Walter backs away, heart racing. Thanks, maybe sex time.

Next time. He forces a wave, turns and hurries off down the block. The women watch and go, laughing. Andy, are you home? I need your help. Oh, did I miss that whole thing? Dude, I have so few lines. Can you think? Let me know. I was ready to go.

Where's the few lines? Exterior, Andy and Ali's house, night. Walter pounds on the door, panicked. Are you home? I need your help. Ali opens the door. Walter looks shocked. The alley that stands before him is changed. She wears a silky red evening gown and tea.

hair. Ellie? Hello, Walter. Walter. Walter pauses, confused. Remembers why he's here. I need to talk to Andy. Is he here? Ali leans against the door frame.

Her hand pushes upward against the jam. Andy left me. He what? He said he wasn't man enough for me anymore. Oh, that doesn't make sense. Andy loved... Walter pauses, sense of something is wrong. Are you all right?

I've never felt better, Waltie. Would you care to join me for a drink? Sure. He enters. Ali closes the door with a smirk on her mouth. Interior, Andy and Ali's house, living room, night. Walter keeps his guard up, tries to inconspicuously look around. Ali runs a finger along Walter's arm as she passes him.

Walter clears his throat. Uh, say, how about that drink? Ali smirks. Coming right up. Ali goes into the kitchen. Walter, on his tiptoes, quickly opens the closet door, peeks inside. He closes it. Ali stands behind the door, startles him with two glasses of red wine in hand.

Oh, I was looking for the bathroom. Well, it's not in the closet, Walter. Ali hands him the glass of wine and takes a sick. Ali oozes seduction. Walter pretends to drink, but neither does. Oh, wine went right through me. Be right back. Walter walks to the end of the hall into the bathroom.

Interior, Andy and Ali's house, bathroom, night. Walter closes and locks the door behind him. He dumps the wine down the sink. Okay, okay, okay, just think. Clink, clink. A noise beside Walter from the bathtub. Walter looks over, sees a shadow in the bathtub behind the closed shower curtain. Walter approaches carefully, throws the curtain open.

Andy lies in the bathtub, covered in blood. His video game controller shoved down his throat. Walter screams. He trips and falls backward against the bathroom door. He tries to catch his breath, a soft knock on the door. You okay in there, Walter? Walter tries to gather himself. Yeah, just, uh, just admit it.

Walter closes the bathroom curtain back how it was, holds back tears for his friend, afraid to look too closely. Walter takes a deep breath and heads back into the interior and in Ali's house, living room night. But the mood has changed. The lights are low. Erotic synth music plays from a vintage stereo nearby. Candles are lit. And Ali is nowhere to be seen. Ali? Walter doesn't wait. He heads straight for the fucking exit. Somehow, Ali appears in his path. He tries to be cool, but he sweats, stammerous.

Hey, yeah, there we are, Ellie. Look, I got to go. Sam needs me for man stuff. Not sex. Just fixing the Wiz Palace. I mean, well, that's what we call the bathroom. Samantha's gone, Walter. What?

What are you talking about? She's on our way back right now, Walter, but Richard will be with her soon enough. Interior, Richard's house, bedroom, night. Richard, naked, stands at the window looking out. He watches as Samantha's car pulls back into the driveway. Richard smiles. Hands caress his chest from behind, Diane and Karen, among others. Interior, Andy and Ali's house night.

How do you know that? I told you. He's shown me so... So very many things. Things I didn't even know about myself. Things I didn't even know I was deprived of. Ali rubs her hips up and down, caressing her figure. Yeah, I should really get back to her then.

Stay with me. Ali ramps up the seduction. Her hands move from her thighs, upper hips, and around her breasts. Come on, Walter. Don't you want me? Walter trips, falls over his own feet as he stumbles backwards. He watches as Ali lifts the red dress over her head, reveals her naked figure. Walter shields his eyes. Not okay.

She sits on top of him. Don't you want to fuck. me, Walter. Ali leans down to kiss Walter. Walter pushes her off hard. Walter stands up, back against the fireplace. He keeps one hand behind his back, inches closer to the fire poker stand. Ali covers her face, still on the floor, crying.

How could you? I love Samantha, all right? Her cries turn into maniacal laughter. Who said anything about love? She stands. I just want to fuck you, Walter. Just fuck your brains out. Okay, stay back, okay?

And when you can't take that anymore, Walter, when you beg me to stop, I'll slit your little throat and fuck your cock in a pool of your own blood. That is so gross. Oh, fuck! Walter grabs hold of the fire poker and swings it at Ali's head.

It connects hard. She stumbles but doesn't fall. When Ali looks back at Walter, her face is now demonic. Her eyes glow green. Her hair is stremy and matted. Rows of razor-sharp teeth line her mouth. A huge gash across her cheek from the poker. Holy fuck!

Ali howls and leaps at Walter. Walter flies back against the futon and wall, knocks over a cheaply framed movie poster. She bears her full mouth of fans, and leaps at him again. Walter scrambles to grab the fire poker. He holds it up instinctively, closes his eyes. He only hears it enter her body.

When he opens his eyes again, Ali is impaled on the poker. He lets go and she stumbles backwards. She sees the poker in her chest. Shocked. She collapses, seemingly dead. Walter catches his breath, then remembers. Sam! He races out of the house and back into his car.

Interior, Samantha's car, night. Samantha pulls into the driveway. Her eyes tell the story of a tearful night. She takes a deep breath and gets out. Interior Walter's house night. Sam enters. She looks around. Walter?

Nothing. Only silence. Walter? She turns. Richard stands right behind her. She screams. Oh, God. Richard. Hi.

Richard laughs warmly. Oh, gosh. Sorry I frightened you, Samantha. The door was open. I thought it would be fine if I let myself in. What, um, can I do for you? He holds up Sam's purse and her shoulder wrap. Just thought I'd return your purse and scarf.

You left the party in such a hurry. I'm afraid you had forgotten it. Sam exhales. She rubs her weary brow. Right. I did. Thank you. Is everything all right?

I'm fine. It looked like you could use a drink. Richard heads into the kitchen. No, I said I'm fine, really. I don't... Richard returns with two glasses of red wine. He takes a sip. I appreciate the sentiment, Richard.

But you should go. I need to think. They lock eyes. Richard's eyes glow. I think I should stay. Samantha's muscles relax. Her resistance fades. She falls deeper into the trance-like state.

She nods. I think you should stay. Richard smiles. Interior, Walter's car, night. Walter drives like a mad man, leaving in and out of slow-moving traffic. He calls Sam on his cell phone again, but there's no answer.

Damn it! Interior, Walter's house, living room, night. Richard touches Samantha's face. He leans in to kiss her. Oh, Walter. Richard stops. Sam's eyes slam open. She takes a step back, out of the trance.

What's happening? What am I doing? Walter would be furious. Walter doesn't have to know. Sam's mood shifts. Yes, he does. Walter's my husband. Walter could never be as attentive to you as I could, Samantha.

Richard holds Sam's waist and stares deep into her eyes. They glow with newfound intensity. Sam looks deeply into Richard's eyes. His voice deepens. With each word, he moves closer towards kissing Sam. I could love you more deeply than Walter could ever understand. I can give you everything your heart desires and your flush craves. I can give you the passion you so desperately seek, Samantha.

He leans in to kiss her. The slap stops him cold. Richard blinks, shocked. Sam is pissed. She points to the door. Get out of my fucking house. Samantha, I think... Who the fuck do you think you are?

Walter is my husband. And I love him. Richard doesn't move. I said, get out. Richard's posture straightens. No. Excuse me? Richard stumps closer to her.

Sam backs up, frightened now. Richard's eyes glow once more, but before he can look into Sam's eyes, Walter bursts in through the door. He sees Sam, terrified, as Richard looms over her, authoritatively. Walter. You son of a...

Walter charges Richard, throws another punch, but Richard catches it effortlessly. No more games. Richard squeezes Walter's hand. His face fills with anguish. He grabs Walter by the throat and lifts him into the air. Oh, crap. Are you, neighborino?

Walter sees Richard's eyes have turned red. His features have become more demonic, evil. The entire room shifts into something darker, more terrifying. Sam watches in horror. Walter! Sam doesn't think. She gets up and runs to help Walter. Richard bats her away with a swipe of his hand

He'll be taking his eyes off Walter Richard pivots and launches Walter over the couch He crashes through the country Walter struggles through the pain screaming all over his body as he gets to his feet He stands in front of Sam shielding her Richard looks around the shop You know I envy you Walter

Your life is something mine was never given the chance To be ordinary Hey I am a small business owner They'll junk to boardhousewives who watch too much HG TV. Richard takes notice of the extravagant suit of armor with a large codpiece propped up in the corner. He approaches with an air of reverence of memory. When I was a young man, my father sent me away, told me not to return lest I was a man. So I became a soldier, a fierce warrior known to many, feared by more.

When I returned home, things had changed. changed, and the home I knew was gone. I never saw my father again. So I traveled, one town at first, and then the next. Soon I was a collector of cities, the world over. Every night a different woman to warm my bed. And thus, I also became a collector of flesh. But never a place to call home.

Never someone to call. Family. Just objects. Just objects lost in history. He touches the breastplate gently, caresses it as though a lover. Tears form in Richard's eyes. We're both collectors in a way, Walter?

Of things lost time? My father was the collector. I'm just the caretaker. Richard turns back to Walter and say... Well, in that case, Walter, I'm going to give you the choice I never had. Think of it as a business opportunity. He stands in front of the couple. I will buy everything in this house.

Take your entire business off your shoulders. And at a price, you won't be able to say no to. For what? Samantha. What? I could just take her now, of course. Or you could have everything you ever wanted, Walter. You could live the life you've always dreamed of,

and you could do it free of the burden of carrying your father's misguided legacy. A fresh start. Richard pauses, awaits an answer. Fuck you. The answer stings like an insult. People aren't objects for you to add to your collection. They're people. And I didn't keep my dad's junk to carry his burden.

Then why did you? To honor it. Richard sighs. You know, I'm happy. be a really shitty salesman and maybe I am a shitty father and an even shittier husband. But there was one thing I'm good at. Stalling. Hey, fuckface!

Just in time to receive the medieval mace, Mia just hurled into the side of his fucking face. He stumbles, blood and flesh fly off his face. Sam grabs Mia, shields her behind herself and Walter. Richard turns to face them, reveals his fucked up face, obliterated, skin gone, scaly demon flesh underneath. One red eye glows in the darkness. Large fangs protrude over his lips. Richard arches his back and howls

at them. The force blows them backward. He stops and locks eyes with Mia. The wind continues to blow Sam and Walter backward. Walter struggles to hold on to the railings, the walls, anything, but it's like a hurricane. The wind roars.

All sounds dissipate into silence. Richard's voice seems come from everywhere. Mia! Mia's eyes turn glossy. She steps forward as her parents fall farther back. She drops the mace no longer in control of herself. Samantha reaches out to stop her, but she can't.

Mia! Richard grabs her and holds her close to him. She faints and Richard catches her in his arms. The wind stops. If I can't have your wife water, I'll just settle for your daughter. Richard Howells. Every light bulb in the house explodes all at once. Walter and Sam shield their eyes.

When they open them again, Mia and Richard are gone. Mia! Are you all right? Oh my God. You were right, Walter. He's a... he's... We have to go to the police. I tried. They won't believe us.

Walter, he has our baby. She cries into his chest. Listen to me. I want you to stay inside to lock all the doors. Don't let anyone in, okay? What are you going to do? I'm going to stop him. Not without me or not?

Sam. Walter, if you think for one second that I'm just going to sit back and wait to be rescued by some night in shining armor, then you're an even bigger idiot than the one I married. Walter thinks. Fine. But we need help. Who? A professional.

Interior. Bobby Joe's apartment. The door opens. Bobby Joe stands in Bonchrist. shorts with his face on them. Had an old bathrobe holding a beer. Hey, Bobby Joe. Bobby Joe belches.

Samantha glares at Walter. He feels her eyes bore into the side of his head, but ignores it. We need your help. Interior, Bobby Joe's apartment at night. Bobby Joe stomps to the kitchen, still in his bathrobe, and opens the fridge. He grabs a blender picture of margarita in the fridge and drinks straight from him. He has our daughter. You have to help us.

Help you do what exactly? Get us all killed? I like being alive. I plan on doing it until I die of old age. Sandwiched between two 20-year-old supermodels. Who the fuck is this guy? Sam approaches him with purpose. Listen, you low-rent Bruce Campbell. That asshole has my daughter, and if my husband thinks you can help, then you're going to help. Even if I have to drag you by the balls there myself.

Bobby Joe flails backward into his bark-a-lounger. False? You said Bobby Joe flails backward. Yeah, I did. I was improving the script. Sorry. Yeah, you're editing it. No charge, brother.

Bobby Joe falls backward into his bark-a-lunger. Fiesty. I don't like it. Say, how stable is this relationship, Walter? Look, we'll pay you. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. I already went down that road with your husband, lady.

Didn't turn out so well for Bobby Joe. So my consulting fee, it just doubled. Walter pulls Sam to the side. Pay him? With what money? I have some set aside for emergencies. Since when? Since always. Just in case. In case of what?

They both realized Bobby Joe was staring at them. Trouble in paradise? Shut up! Right. All right, back to business. I like your style. So how many zeroes we're talking about? I said, shut up.

And put some fucking pants on, would you? Can we stop for a drink first? No! Bobby Joe slinks back into his chair. Exterior, Walter's house, night. Walter, Sam, and Bobby Joe exit Bobby's beat up old paddle and head inside. Bobby Joe is dressed like a character from his show, an aged leather jacket over his cowboy shirt and bolo tie.

Interior, Walter's house, living room night. Walter digs through boxes and piles of junk while Sam watches. Bobby Joe raids the kitchen. He finds a bottle of whiskey and pours himself a stiff drink. What are you looking for? Aha. Does he really say uh-huh? Walter grabs a cardboard box and slams it on the table between them.

On the side of the box, in Mia's handwriting, more poignant than she meant, let's get medieval on their asses. The box... The box... Pause for laughter. The box contains a crossbow, a made. a medieval axe, arrows, and a spearhead. Everyone?

Walt's Antiques is open for business. Samantha picks up the crossbow and looks it over. Oh, it suits you. Walter hands the axe to Bobby Joe. He turns his nose at it. I'm sad, kid. Bobby Joe lifts up his shirt, and enormous revolver is stuffed into his pants.

A little rap party gift from one of my first features. Cycocopop 2 for revenge. Oh. I saw that one. Oh, you liked it. Wow. Walter walks off. My only one would taste in this place, you primitive rubs.

Bobby Joe picks up the mace and admires it. He whips it around, awkwardly. What about you? Walter stares off frame. Quick cuts. Piece by piece, Walter puts on the suit of armor, but we don't see its complete form yet.

Walter, now on the full suit of armor, broadsword in hand, awkwardly lifts up the faceplate to speak. How do I? The faceplate falls back down. He lifts it up again. How do I look? Ridiculous. Sam looks at him warmly, a smile on her face.

I think he looks amazing. End of act two. I just say something. You ladies are scaring your shit out of me with your... What do you mean? That's what I'm talking about right there. You guys are way too good at that. Hey, this is Hayes, Davenport.

Sean Clements. We host the podcast, Hollywood Handbook. Each week, we talk to someone in show business and try to help them with their careers and see what they have to offer us. Everyone has a good time and no one gets mad at their publicists for letting them do our show. We've had a lot of great guests like Sarah Sherman, Adam Scott, Danny McBride, Ben Stillard, and a lot of other big shots that wouldn't be where they are without us. Listen to Hollywood Handbook on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. If your bookshelf and your for you page are equally important to your personality, Welcome home.

Pro Society is a weekly podcast that's part book club, part group chat for anyone who thinks pride and prejudice and love island to serve the same level of discourse. Each week, we're connecting the dots between books, the internet, and pop culture with your favorite writers, book talk creators, and plenty of overthought opinions. Yeah, I'm obsessed. I'm obsessed. Listen to Pro Society on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. I'm Nick Tutu. You probably know me from NYPD Blue, the longest you. or Spike Lee's Black Klansman.

And on my new podcast, Delivering Happiness with Nick Totoro, I deliver pizza to a new guest. I've shared a slice with everyone from Seth Rollins. What are you doing, my belt? To Bill Burr. I don't think I've ever met somebody so exactly out of their mind as I am. And now, we even have more great guests coming up, including the great John Tuturo.

It's called Happiness, Delivering Happiness. And many, many more. Open your free High Heart Radio app. Search Delivering Happiness with Nick Tutro. listen now. I'm Hoda Kotbby, host of the podcast, Joy 101 with Hoda Kotbby. You know, I'm always searching for inspiration and useful tools to maximize joy. Like when my friend Henry Winkler offered advice to aspiring actors and really anybody hoping to stand out. You're not hired just to fill time and space. You're hired to fill the space with you. Listen to Joy 101 with Hoda

Kotby on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get. your podcasts.