The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S13E24
Episode Date: December 8, 2019It's episode 24 of Season 13. On this week's show we present our homage to the Grindhouse movies of old "A Wampoke Family Dinner" written by Olivia White (Story starts around 00:04:20) Produced by: J...esse Cornett Cast: Jeff Clement, Jesse Cornett, Andy Cresswell, Penny Scott-Andrews, Kyle Akers, Addison Peacock, Jessica McEvoy, Erika Sanderson, Atticus Jackson, Mike DelGaudio, Erin Lillis, Graham Rowat, Nikolle Doolin "What Have They Done With The Crystal Cat's Head?" written by Olivia White (Story starts around 01:16:00) Produced by: Phil Michalski Cast: Atticus Jackson, Erin Lillis, Nikolle Doolin, Dan Zappulla, Alexis Bristowe, Graham Rowat, Erika Sanderson, David Ault, Matthew Bradford, Jessica McEvoy, Addison Peacock, Eden "Trailer One" written by Olivia White & Produced by: Jeff Clement "Trailer Two" written by Olivia White & Produced by: Jeff Clement Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast Click here for tickets to our UK/EU Tour in January 2020 Click here to learn more about Olivia White Episode Written by: Olivia White Executive Producer & Host: David Cummings Musical score composed by: Brandon Boone "What Have They Done With The Crystal Cat's Head?" illustration courtesy of Jen Tracy "A Wampoke Family Dinner" illustration courtesy of Hasani Walker Audio program ©2018-2019 - Creative Reason Media Inc. - All Rights Reserved - No reproduction or use of this content is permitted without the express written consent of Creative Reason Media Inc. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Transcript
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Welcome, welcome, one and all to our season 13 penultimate episode.
I'm your host, David Cummings.
With next week's season 13 finale being our big Christmas show,
we wanted to give you a pre-finally treat.
For this episode, we're going to hearken back to the days of Grindhouse movies.
If you're too young to know what those are,
grind houses were old, musty movie theaters which showed schlocky action or horror movies.
Pay one price, see a bunch of B or C-Grid,
movies and enjoy the bad acting and cheesy effects.
And while we usually dig through our VHS vaults to find some of the strangest and most unusual
video classics for you, this time we're going to play a tape which contains a grindhouse
style presentation like you used to see on late night TV.
It includes the commercials from back in the day, some interviews with the filmmakers,
and two movies which really have to be seen to be believed.
Of course, we'll only get to listen to them, but that's still a little.
mighty fun. So let's get ready for the grind, or the grind house. I'll get the tape in the
machine and we'll kick things off with some of those commercials you used to see in the wee hours.
You know, those kinds of commercials. When you're settling down to watch a movie or listen to an
audio drummer or even wants something to eat seductively to catch the eye of that bow you're
after, then what's more perfect than a hot dog? But we don't just
make any old hot dogs.
Oh no. We use a special
recipe handed down straight
from Grandma, who got it from her
grandma. And it's not
human meat.
We've all eaten hot dogs like
that. No.
That's cliche. Our special
branded Slurpy Slug Dogs are made
from the finest slugs we pluck from our
very own Slug Garden.
And the best part, you won't even
be able to tell the difference.
So kick bad.
Relax and suck in a slurpy slug dog.
And who knows, it might just help that loved one get into your pants.
Slurpy slug dogs, slurpy slug dogs, that's a god darn best.
So, yeah, they wanted me to do this ad for the music store I work in.
I say work.
I make the tea and man the checkout.
Look, let me tell you, if I have to hear another patron play stairway to heaven
badly before walking out without buying a single damn thing,
then I think I'm going to strangle myself with an amp lead.
If actually, you know what?
Fuck it.
I'm going to do it.
So come on down to Rick's barely used guitar Emporium.
I'm working alone for the next three days,
so preferably sometime before then.
Else my body's going to start to stink.
Oh, and also, fuck you, Led Zeppelin.
My blood is on your hands.
Rock and roll, dudes.
And we'd like to thank our other sponsors for making this episode possible.
So without further ado, allow me to introduce you to the No Sleep podcast, Grindhouse Special.
Two tales of gore and terror to keep you up at night.
Our first tale is, well, it's better to let it describe itself.
But alongside me, it stars Jeff Clement, Jesse Cornett, Andy Cresswell, Penny Scott Andrews,
Kyle Acres, Addison Peacock, Jessica McAvoy, Erica Sanderson, Atticus Jackson,
and featuring special guest stars Mike Delgado as Sheriff Grover Buckingham,
and Aaron Lillis as Deputy Carol Flack.
So sit back, grab your comforters, and listen as author Olivia White presents,
A Wom-Poke Family Dinner.
It was a balmy afternoon day this happened.
roads outside knew Norden was quiet as anything.
I don't think none of us, well at least none of us part from, you know who,
had any idea how bloody and terrifying things are going to get for the night was through.
I wasn't there then yet, no reason it would be after all.
But five folk were, some strangers, some not.
All of them waiting at the designated pickup area for the tour bus to take them to the largest gosh darn lock and key
in the whole of the USA.
That designated pickup area was Old Earl's gas station.
Last stop for the coach that brought him there for turning around and heading back to Whitefall.
I imagine most of the travelers expected Old Earls to be a vibrant place.
Somewhere they could grab a cool and pick up some snacks, take a load off.
Of course, most of them had no way of knowing that Old Earl had croaked just two weeks before.
Well, I say croaked.
One of my deputies put a bullet in the back of his head after we found a meth lab hidden beneath the
outhouse. We still hadn't gotten around to finding a replacement for old Earl.
Can't imagine what the smell of the rotting meat would have been like if any of the
travelers had broken into that place. Not that I want to think about rotting meat right now.
Not after I know where this story goes. The point is they were all waiting patiently,
or not so patiently. At least we'd had the foresight to leave the outhouse open for them
should any of the folks needed to relieve themselves. And don't worry,
We torched the meth lab and sealed it off.
We don't leave our crime scenes unattended around these parts.
At the time, they and the group didn't know this,
but they were about 20 minutes away from meeting the tour bus and cousin Bridgewater.
Jesus Christ's pussy, we've been here like 10 hours.
Mary, language, please.
And we've been here.
43 minutes exactly.
Well, sorry, Allison, but it feels like 10 hours.
If your dad says it's been 43 minutes, then it's been 43 minutes.
Ah, yes, Gregory James Haler, the most accurate timekeeper this side of Otterron.
Mary, please, if you're going to persist in this phase of not calling us mom and dad, at least call me Greg.
Oh, of course.
Sorry, Greg.
And have I ever actually called you mom and dad?
Genuine question.
You used to, for a...
bit when we first fostered you.
Oh, right, when I was like
eight. Yeah, every
eight-year-old calls their parental figures
mom and dad.
Yeah, and also, fostered kids usually
keep calling them mom and dad when they get adopted.
You know, when you became our actual
legal daughter? Greg,
is this really the time or place
for this conversation?
Sure, why not?
Mary, you're a part of our life.
We've done everything we can for you.
I expected the rebellious.
as teen years when he turned 15, but you're 18 now and...
Yeah, today, in fact.
And I'm standing here sweating like a pig in the Arizona heat
while we wait for the goddamn tour bus to come take us to look at America's largest lot and key.
We just wanted to do something special for your 18th, honey.
Something unique.
We've seen some pretty interesting things, haven't we?
Sure.
World's largest can of soda.
world's largest and grossest
chewed ball of gum
America's biggest set of dentures
wonderful
we just thought it'd be a bit different
you know
you know what would have been a bit different
getting fucked off my face on white claws
with my friends back in Calabasas
you've just turned 18 Mary
not 21
there's such a thing as fake IDs
Greg
it's your birthday I'm giving you a
pass. I'm going to pretend I didn't hear this.
Well, good, because I need to go call my boyfriend before I go insane with boredom.
That guy over there looks like he's already been tipped over the edge.
Don't want to join him.
Shh. He'll hear you.
Afternoon fellow traveler.
I'm leaving. Hey, babe. So great to hear from you.
Yeah, just on the shitty road trip with Allison and Gregory.
America's largest lock and key next. I know.
thrilling.
I know.
I'm missing you so much right now, babe.
You have no idea how badly I need you to fuck me right now.
Of course, whatever hole you want.
In my ass?
Baby, it's ready and waiting for you.
Deep and hard.
Whoa, whoa, sorry.
Didn't mean to walk in, well, out on that.
Shit, babe, I got to go.
You've been in there the whole time.
Yeah, I...
Didn't hear anything, though.
Well, not much, anyway.
You've still heard that last part, though.
I haven't...
I wasn't...
Hey, it's fine, it's fine.
You're into what you're into.
Frankly, I'm more impressed you were able to get cell service to even have a call.
I haven't been able to get a single bar.
I mean...
Geez, well...
It's just them.
They're pissing me off.
They...
Your parents?
Adopted parents.
Yeah.
I know, I know.
I'm being a stereotypical teenage bitch acting out.
What can I say?
Hey, well, it's fine.
Tour bus is going to be here any minute.
We can hang out till then.
Wait, hey, check this out.
You'll get a kick out of this.
I don't get it.
Instamax picks of naked chicks.
Yeah.
Official story is I'm backpacking to find myself.
Real story.
I'm building up a cross-country collection.
Gotta catch them all, you know?
What, venereal diseases?
No, no, these chicks.
So you travel the country collecting naked picks of women?
No, fucking them.
I've done it with every girl in this wallet.
So, like, yeah, okay, maybe I heard your conversation.
And, you know, I've still got film in my Instamax,
and that outhouse isn't too dirty,
so if you really can't wait to get back to your boyfriend,
we could all...
I'm...
I think I'm gonna go back to mom and dad.
Peace out, dude.
Talks to talk, won't walk the walk.
Had quite enough of her type, thanks.
Venereal disease.
Don't make me laugh.
Probably catch one off you, bitch.
Couldn't help, but overhear your chat with the young lady over there.
Got to sympathize.
I know, right?
Some prissy chick's got no sense of humor.
Huh.
I meant I got to sympathize with her,
not wanting to be anywhere close to a limp dick
to walking herpes virus like you.
Uh, excuse me, dude?
You heard me.
If I ever hear you talk to a woman like that again,
I'll gut you so wide,
your own mama won't fit inside the mutant
who came out of her.
You get me?
Dude.
Don't...
Well, that sounds like the tour bus.
Guess we'll be moving on then.
Howdy, folks?
Sorry for the delay, but I'm here now.
Bridgewater's the name, but you can call me Bridge.
I'll be your driver for the evening.
Now then, who's ready to go see the biggest gosh-darn lock and key this country's ever produced?
And with that, they all piled into the van on their way to their destination.
As they drove, they got to know each other.
They shared their names, their professions,
you know, the usual things a group of strangers talk about.
And after a while, it felt like they'd come to know each other
and why each of them was heading to their destination.
Only at the time, most none of them could have had the slightest inkling
what that destination was going to be.
Well, gosh darn it, folks.
It's okay, though.
Just need some water in the radiator.
We've been driving for ages.
It's practically dark out now.
How are we going to see the lock in Kiev? It's pitch black.
Oh, don't you worry none? They got floodlights, real good ones.
Say, why don't we all get out and stretch our legs while I fill up the radiator?
Fine by me. Maybe there's cell service here.
I might stay in the bus if it's all the same.
Yeah, same.
Never mind. I will get out after all.
Right, off we go then.
Wait, what?
Love you and leave you.
Just walk up the roadways.
You'll be seen right.
An absolute fucking cunt.
Craig, honey.
Language.
You took all our bags, our luggage, everything.
Oh, it's not everything.
Most of our stuff is at the motel.
He took our camera and fuck my wallet was in my backpack.
Jesus Christ.
Everything I own was in mine.
I don't have anything.
else.
Well, at least you kept hold of your guitar.
Maybe you can serenade us with Wonderwall while we wait for help.
Well, at least someone kept hold of their backpack.
Yes, sir.
Don't like to let go of this thing.
You never know when things like this might happen.
And they happen to you often, do they?
No, sir.
I'm not saying that.
Just...
Mary, where are you going?
I'm looking for help
That dickhead told us to head down the road, right?
At least one of us is being proactive
And stop calling me Mary
It's Mazzie
Everyone but you two have called me Mazzie for three years now
Now listen, Missy
I said Mazzy, not Missy
Clean your ears out, Gregory
Just leave it, honey
She's right, let's follow her
And that is how five travelers
made their way ten minutes down the road,
round the dark corner, off the beaten path,
and found themselves at the side of the fateful events
that were about to transpire.
The Wampoke family house.
It was a ramshackle filthy old house.
You've seen the type in a dozen horror movies.
Nothing openly remarkable,
but just eerie enough that you've walked into some territory
where, pardon my French, you done fucked up.
As our travelers walked into the Wampoke yard,
A large hog went running past, squealing, as if something was pursuing it.
But nothing was, of course.
The wompokes don't care about no hogs.
But the house stood there, uninviting, sinister.
The whole abode was the kind of place we should have never tolerated in this quiet little town.
I say it was, of course, because after the events of that night, we burned the place to the ground, salted the scorched earth.
It seemed only right.
But we didn't want that monument to death sitting on the outskirts, reminding people of what went down.
But that was later.
This is now.
It was Gregory James Haler who walked up to the front door and knocked.
And it was Pendleton, Papa, Wampoke, who answered,
Dang, potato fritters, we got us some guests.
By God, I think he's done it.
Cornelius!
Cornelius!
Come on out of there!
I think that shitbird slut turnip, cousin Bridgewater's only gone and done it.
All five, he's done it!
Ah, sorry about that.
Pay that no mind.
Unrelated to y'all.
Just some family business I was taken care of.
Now, let me guess.
Y'all broke down on the way to the biggest gosh darn lock and key in the good old US of A
and that dipshit weasel cousin Bridgewater just up and left y'all at our job.
doorstep.
Hey, that's about the long and short of it, sir.
I don't think I want to stay.
Uh, honey, I think we're clearly interrupting.
We should just go.
Nonsense, nonsense.
Y'all folks ain't interrupting nothing.
Trust me, Pendleton Wampo don't stand for no interruptions.
Why, just come on inside it.
Ooh, Papa, what's this?
We got visitors?
Oh, yay!
Super yay!
Now, now, Birdie, no need to shove me out of the way like that.
They're all coming in.
You'll get to meet them.
But I want to see!
Don't mind popping none.
We don't get many visitors out here in these parts.
He can get a little enthusiastic.
Y'all aren't going to let down a little birdie eggwomp
and turn down our hospitality, are you?
Especially not when one of you is such a cutie.
Well, how could I turn down in a greeting like that?
Yeah, yeah, whatever.
Anyway, what's your name?
We look rough the same age.
Ain't had a girlfriend my age and well.
My long-ass time.
Me?
Um, I'm, I'm Mary.
I'm, Mazzie.
I'm 18.
You?
I'm 12.
20. Close enough.
Aw, y'all gotta come in and visit.
I really, really think we'll be on our way.
No.
I mean, nah.
What's the harm in stepping in for a bit?
Go on.
You said the point of this trip was to have cultural experiences, right?
Let's get to know these folks.
You literally just said.
I know what I just said. I was wrong.
Let's just leave it.
Come on, folks. Must be getting mighty cold out there.
What about you, Franklin?
Sure, I'm down. Let's go inside.
Wait, really? Greg's?
Greg, my dude. Did you see that chicky bird chick?
Birdy egg. Yes, yes, I did see her.
I'm not like going crazy, right? That is literally a goddess in human form.
She's certainly
Something right
Holy shit
Those legs
Those short
Short shorts
That cleavage
Did you see the eyes she was giving me
I gotta be honest
I didn't particularly see her looking at you
No
In fact I'm a little concerned
Just telling you pal
I can't promise I'll be leaving with you tonight
I've got a few slots in my card collection left to fill
And I swear on all that is holy
I'm taking that egg chick to bed tonight.
I could die a happy man after getting inside her.
Yes, well, I'm afraid I don't...
Oh, come on, dude.
Your wife's hot and all, but don't tell me you wouldn't give your left nut to stop...
Uh, birdie talking.
If you know what I mean.
Fine, fine, she's stunning.
And if the opportunity did arise, well, between us,
Allison's never found out before.
So, you know, I think I'm quite good at it.
Ah, I knew it.
I know a fellow player when I see one.
Anyway, let's hurry on in.
I don't want to miss that chick bending over and giving us a view.
I swear, if her shorts were any tighter, she'd have four butt cheeks.
What kept you?
Oh, just checking for cell service.
Won't get none out here.
Sorry.
me and your daughter Massey here just getting to know each other
and Pendleton's been telling us a little about life on a farm out in the sticks
they seem like a nice family
speaking of family i've got to apologize for my brother
no idea where he is
old folkingtons did i hear someone calling the name
Cornelius Cornelius warm poke
because here the satanic tits I am in the flesh
Just about ready to meet me some blessed beloved guests
Oh no
In fact, I've just been preparing dinner
And I made enough for five more of us
Ain't that a rinky dink a winky dink
Oh, I feel like I gotta apologize for my brother
Oh, Papa, I'm sorry
We know what I guess like when we got company
I'm just so excited to see y'all folks
Uncle Cornelius got a metal plate covering most of his skull
got his head smashed in during a bar fight when he was your age, Massey
sure did
but he's always been like this, ain't you Cornelius
true enough, Papa
I'm confused
you said he was your brother but he calls you Papa
so which is it brother, son?
Both?
Well, hey now, ain't no need for that kind of incest talk
Just because we're country folk
He's my brother, but I look after him
So he calls me Papa
And Birdie calls me Papa
Because, well, I am her Papa
Adopted Papa anyway
Been mine since she was four years old,
ain't your princess?
Sure have Papa.
Hey, I'm adopted too.
Sounds like we got a lot in common then.
A lot, I reckon.
I think you might be right.
Hey, I gotta show you my room.
You'll love it.
Come on, let's go.
Birdie, no.
Not before drinks, anyway.
And dinner.
But Papa!
Oh, princess, you know, I don't want to deny you anything.
But we gotta do this.
Do this right, I mean.
Yeah, but what if...
We'll see.
Drinks first.
Cornelius, you think you can handle that?
Sure can, Papa.
So, folks want to try some real country punch?
Is it alcoholic?
I don't drink, and Mazzie is too young.
Alcohol?
Oh, heavens to fuck bagels, no.
We don't touch a drop of that fallen angel pit.
in this family. Nope. It's just nice, wholesome non-alcoholic punch.
Well, I don't know.
Oh, come on, Allison. It'd be rude not to try some.
I'm down.
Hit me up.
I would love to try some of your punch, sirs.
Well, then let's have it.
Bertie Egg. Y'all come help me in the kitchen, little ma'am.
But Uncle Cornelius...
Nope, he's right.
You go hell.
Keep yourself out of trouble.
Plus, this fool can't carry eight glasses of punch
without spilling at all down his pants, can he?
Yeah, exactly.
Wait.
How dare you?
Okay, no, no, that's fair.
Eight glasses, though?
Grandma not joining us?
Not till dinner.
She's having a beauty rat.
She'll be down, don't worry.
You'll get to introduce our new friends to your beloved grandma.
Fine, fine, come on then, Uncle Cornelius.
Let's show them the punch our punch has got.
And so, after much fussing and cursing and Pendleton Wampoke
regaling the travelers about his favorite TV shows
and just how much of a liability his brother is,
Cornelius and Bernie Egg returned with eight glasses of punch.
carefully like the gentleman he was cornelius handed his five glasses out to the guests
birdie handed one to pop a first with a curtsy that caused the remaining drinks to slosh
dangerously against their rims then passed one to uncle cornelius and finally took the last
drink for herself oh god damn this is some good punch told you didn't i tell you
did not tell him birdie egg you told him uncle cornelius you told him uncle cornelius
Old recipe this is
Straight from the Yomphru it is
Something thrown in for good measure
The Yomfrew
That your old family name
Oh don't he wish
No the Yom fru are
Now don't y'all go and worrying about the Yom fru none
Just drink your punch and then maybe
Just maybe we'll have Cornelius tell you the tale of the yom fru
Sure will, Papa
I don't feel so good.
Me either, Mom.
I don't.
Yeah, I'm...
I, too, am feeling somewhat out of sorts.
And there we go.
Cornelius, let's get them ready for dinner.
Oh, Papa.
I'm real sad about Massey.
She seemed like such a nice girl.
I know, hon.
I know. But there'll be another. We can't look cousin Bridgewater's gift horse in the mouse, can we?
I think it's the mouth, Papa.
Ah, I'll shut your mouth in a minute, Cornelius. Grab that there, gruff-looking one first. Let's go.
And so our wayward travelers found themselves tied to a chair around a dinner table, at which sat Birdie Egg, Cornelius, and an ancient-looking woman they could only assume to be Grandma.
Pendleton Wampoke stood at the head of the table.
bowls of salad and vegetables garnish the layout, while at the center sat a pair of legs,
clearly human, on a silver platter.
What?
Untire us now, you thin, Fred, make fucks.
Uh, is nobody going to comment on the severed fucking legs on the table?
That, my dear, is dinner.
And with this meal, we give thanks to our benefactors, the beloved unsullied yon-thru,
Who, thanks to you five, will be the subject of tonight's festivities.
Oh, that's right.
That's right.
Now, we'd offer to share our meal with you, but I'm afraid you're all a little bit tired up at the moment.
Get it, Bernie?
Yeah, I get it.
Oh, honey, what's wrong?
Dinner's normally your favorite part of the day.
I think our precious birdie egg is sad, Papa.
Ah, you're always so observant, Grandma.
Why is that, you reckon?
I don't think she wants to say goodbye to this one.
Yes.
Don't say goodbye to me.
Keep me around.
Whatever.
Thank you, Grandma.
You've always understood.
Papa, before we begin...
Can I at least...
Kiss her on her special place?
Wait, what?
No, no, please.
Don't, don't do that.
Don't...
Oh, my nose.
Okay?
Okay.
It's a real good nose.
Papa, you know, I think you've got this one wrong, honestly.
Wish that I had, Bertie.
But Cousin Bridgewater heard some things through that
the insect he placed at the gas station.
Bug?
You mean a bug?
Like an electronic spy, bug?
Uh, yeah, what that drifter said.
Trust me, cousin Bridgewater don't get it wrong.
What about the time we asked him to bring us a new sheep for the farm?
And he kidnapped old Mrs. Girl and Poodle.
Okay, well, that was an honest mistake.
But he ain't wrong about this.
What in the blue hell are you all talking about?
Excuse me, young man.
Please watch your language.
How are you even talking?
You look about 200 years old.
Franklin, you're sitting adjacent to her.
Is she even real?
She's real.
We're real.
Real, has the fate coming for you.
Anyway, that's enough of all that.
Sorry, we can't share any of this with you,
but let's raise our forks and dig in.
if you say so
ladies and gentlemen
is fucking served
what the blue
Jesus fuck
how the hell did you break free
blood I'm almost to the point
and why the hell did you stab grandma in the face
with her fucking fork
she's dead
guess I did you pig licking
hippie shit cyborg motherfucker
oh boy
this has been a long time coming
now here boy
Just what are you playing at?
I guess we'll find out in a minute.
I just need my backpack.
Y'all wait here.
He's got a gun.
Oh, thank God.
Just tranks, unfortunately, me old mucker.
They'll do the gosh darn job.
Y'all ain't getting me with your drug gun,
you bitch fucking mother shit.
Thank God.
Franklin, thank you.
Please, please untie us
Uh, mom
Dad
I don't think this is what it looks like
Oh shut up you dumb slut
We've just been saved
Franklin
Buddy
You epic specimen of a man
How about you untie us
Now I wasn't gonna bother
Tranquilizing the rest of you
But you
Harris Sawyer
I just don't fucking like you
And trust me, these tranks
They give you one hell of a killer migraine.
So, you know.
When everyone awoke, they found themselves tied, much more securely this time,
to chairs positioned in a circle around a strange symbol carved into the dirt.
Grandma was absent, obviously,
because Franklin had seen fit to stab her in the face with a fork.
That decision would come back to bite him in the ass,
but Franklin's good at improvising.
Obviously, it was something of a shock for the Wampokes
to find themselves in the same situation
as their potential sacrifices.
And there was much chaos and screaming and muttering
that y'all don't need to hear about.
But Bertie was sitting next to Mazzie
and they could just about reach out
against their bonds to hold hands.
So at least two of them were happy.
I got a confession to make to all, y'all.
Just a tainty, tiny confession.
I'm not a traveler, a lonely drifter just making his way across the States.
I figured that was pretty obvious by now, but just wanted to clear the air.
In fact, I may well have just inserted myself in this here motley gathering with an ulterior motive.
I thought there was something familiar about you.
I got it. He's the zodiac killing. I thought it's all right from the start.
The Zodiac killer would be like 80 by now, you buffoon.
Nah, there's something, though.
I got it.
He's Sheriff Grover Buckingham's boy.
He just shaved that massive beard he had and got a haircut.
Correct.
And y'all are so dumb that my cunning disguise was enough to fool you.
Wait, so you're like...
The cops?
Care to explain why we're all tied up here?
Well, firstly, you shut your mouth, you walk an example of statutory rape.
Hey, we're all over 18.
I checked.
I double checked.
It's an expression, raising balls.
Point is, you're a creepy, rapy slime bucket.
I heard how you talked to Miss Massey over there.
He said what now about my daughter?
Oh, don't play the innocent with me.
Mr. I'd tap that hillbilly ass so hard I'd feel her esophagus.
You said what now about my daughter?
I did not say that.
Well, no.
But I heard y'all in Herpes, Sawyer, talking about birdie egg, too.
Allison, you know what your husband gets up to on his business trips.
Between us, Allison's never found out before.
Honestly, he thinks I'm a lot stupider than I am.
I just turn a blind eye.
Yeah, Dad's a latch. We know that.
And you hate them both.
Right, little missy?
You're the typical bratty princess daughter?
Uncontrollable?
Well, Allison, Gregory, tell me this.
What do you think of Lil Bertie's obvious thing for your precious Mary?
Well, it's unnatural, isn't it?
Mary isn't into all that.
No child of mine would ever be.
Well, then, let's move on.
So here's the thing.
The warm-pokes were going to use you folks as sacrifices to their weird-ass purity gods.
For some ungodly reason, they want to...
to bring them into this world. So this thing I've drawn on the ground here was the lock.
And us locked together were the key. And it would have been glorious. And you're a fool for stopping us,
Franklin. I remember when you was just a little boy and you'd come up here trying to meddle with our
hogs. And I said, well, didn't I, Cornelius, didn't I say? You did say, Papa, you did say?
I said, that Franklin, he's a badderner.
Well, I guess you were right, you lunatic old dicklicker.
So, sorry to interrupt, but since you're a copenhore, can't you arrest these folk and let us the hell out of here?
Oh, hell no.
You see, stopping the warm pokes.
That's just a bonus.
My goal here is to bring the Yomphru through,
put bullets through their malformed skulls,
and put an end of this bullshit all together.
But surely you've realized this is madness.
There's no Yomphru.
It's just the ravings of a hit cannibal family
who can't settle for a normal god like most folk.
Ah, ah, ah, ah.
But that's where you're wrong.
Prince William. The yomfrou are very real. You know how I know? My mama was a rogue yomphru.
These Wampoke brothers, their daddy was a rogue yonfrew. And trust me, them things are abominations.
That ain't true, it ain't. Your mama was a two-bit hooker who Sheriff Buckingham paid
to leave town and our pa well you could ask grandma but you stabbed her in the face with a goddamn fork
yeah yeah you grandma stab her oh simmer down just simmer the fuck down i'm done with this shit
you're calling my daddy deputy franklin windsor deep undercover at the old wamo place here
tell sheriff's fucking hand to go fuck himself that sarah sack
Shit. Deep undercover. Sure don't sound like it.
Things escalated. But you better get down here real sharpish if you want to see the festivities.
I might need an extra pair of guns if the yom fru get feisty.
I meant you could dual wield. Don't bring horror into this.
Fuck!
Anyway. Right. Listen up all you chuckle fucks.
The sheriff's gonna be here in 30 minutes
And I want to get this place all ready for him
For when he gets here
So you know how this sacrifice business goes
Raise your hand if you're a virgin
Uh, we're tied up dude
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha
And you were gonna raise your hand, were you?
Sure, pal
And don't try and lie
I got some legitimate yom-frue blood.
Hey, that's mine!
Oh, shut it, metalhead.
How dare you touch my plate, you pack a head?
Anyway, one splash of this yom-frou blood will tell me if you're a virgin or not.
So this is just going through the motions, really.
Want to see who's honest.
So, first, you, Gregory J.
I know you get a daughter, and I know you brag about your extramarital affairs, but Massey's adopted and you could be full of shit.
So, virgin?
Nope, not me.
And how about the dear wife, Allison?
No.
We tried for a kid.
We wanted one of our own.
But in the end, we had to adopt.
Wait, what?
You told me you were always planning on adopting.
Save the family drama.
Just because you're a nuclear family doesn't mean you gotta go nuclear.
Anyway, what about you, Massey?
From what I heard back at the gas station, you've had a bit of fun in your time.
I'm a...
Um, no, I'm not a virgin.
Definitely not.
If you are, babe, just tell him.
Trust me.
I can tell you are.
Be honest, it'll be better.
Fine.
I'm a virgin.
Never even kissed a boy.
It's all show to piss off my parents.
Have you kissed a girl?
Uh, yeah.
But we never had sex, I just kissed.
That doesn't mean I'm not a virgin, though, right?
Oh, no, not at all.
I was just thinking, you know, if we get out of this, we could maybe...
Bertie, if we get out of this alive,
even though your adopted family were going to sacrifice me,
then I promise you that you'll be my first time.
In fact, fuck it.
I'll fuck you senseless.
Here that, grab girls, and I want to have sex with them.
Shove that up your conservative opinion.
For what it's worth, they wouldn't just sacrifice to you.
The blood test would show up here.
You'd be fine.
Anyway, I'm curious about Horny Harris here.
He's got a binder full of women.
But, you know, I could sort of imagine him faking it.
So I'm just going to do the test.
Huh.
You really are a sleazeball.
Well, kudos for the honesty.
Endleton?
I'm a virgin.
You're a virgin.
Me too.
I never touched a woman.
He ate.
He's a goddamn liar.
That's how he got his skull caved in.
Fucking someone else's girl.
Papa.
Why would you?
Why?
Birdie.
I think you know the answer to this, Freakley Franklin.
But go ahead.
Splatter me with your blood.
So that's four non-virgins.
Well, fuck.
If all you folk out of the lube haven't worked it out yet,
it ain't the virgins we need.
It's those of you sullied by the power of the orgasm.
Or not, I guess.
But sex anyway.
Sorry, Allison. I'm sure Gregory doesn't make you come on the...
How fucking dare you!
I saw that smirk, Mrs. Haler.
Good humor. Even in the face of death, but still, we're missing one more non-virgin sacrifice.
How about you, Franklin? I heard about you when the legs of Kimbo Lucy from town.
Oh, sure. You know.
dumb bitch. I'm gonna sacrifice myself to raise the yomphru that I personally intend to kill.
You know who else wasn't a virgin? Grandma, she gave birth to us boys all right. And I'm sure
she would have happily given her life for the young fru. But you know what you did, Franklin?
You stabbed her in the face with a goddamn fork. That is a good point. Sometimes I act without thinking.
Oh shit, wait, I know.
Cornelius, that fellow whose legs we was going to eat for dinner,
did you keep him alive?
I ain't talking to you no more.
He did.
He did keep him alive.
He was bragging about it.
Well, there you go, Franklin.
There's a non-virgin in the basement.
Why don't you go get him?
You know, I think I will.
We were just pulling up in the cruiser, me and Deputy Flack,
as my dear son Franklin finished his tableau of non-vergent sacrifices.
They all sat back to back in a circle, their legs out in front of them.
Well, apart from the one lad, Chet Retson, whose legs had been severed just above the knee.
But at least he was alive.
Pendleton, Massey, and Bertie all sat watching on in terror, tied to their chairs,
as Franklin finished their final preparations.
And the escape attempts they'd made while he'd been retrieving poor,
old Chet. Who was that guy? I will never know. But there they were, and there we were. And I was
itching to take out some John Fruh, and then putting bullets in the back of the heads of anyone
who bore witness to this horror. Can't have things like this getting out into the world. You just
can't. Hey son, we're here and ready. Deputy Carroll Fleck, reporting for duty, Deputy Windsor.
Oh, for fuck's sake, he did bring her in home.
The blazing heck did you do that for, son?
I told you, Dad.
I don't like working with her.
She pisses me off.
And wants one more body, Dad.
Fine.
Friendly fire incident it is.
Anyway, let's get on with this.
I've got the matches.
You do the chant.
No.
Please, you're a cop.
You can't do this.
Blessed unsullied yom fruit.
Bring forth your chosen, so you may feast upon the flesh of the sullied beings of this world.
This is insane! You're fucking insane!
Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I don't hate you.
I wish we could have... I wish we could have taught.
It's okay, then.
With these sacrifices, we summon you for...
Now, let the sacred flames of purity cleanse these filthy procreators.
Yes, come forth our family.
And don't let this nut job cop kill you, maybe.
They're finally here.
Our blessed gods, roam free.
Let's begin by taking down these enrolopers who mean you how.
Oh, we mean you harm, all right.
Dad, weapons free.
Let them have it.
Well, God damn it.
I think we got them all.
That's you, we and bred Hicks.
And speaking of, Pendleton Wampoke, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and attempted sacrifice of whoever the gosh darn hell these people were.
You have the right to remain silent.
Papa!
Fuck you, Franklin!
Fuck the fucking fuck you!
My hot lesbian ass!
And now, Sheriff Grover Buckingham,
unless you want to join your son in hell,
then you're gonna let Mazzie and I walk out of here free women,
just like we deserve.
We've lost our families.
You've lost yours.
Well, that seems like a fair treat.
to me. Toss your gun over here. Now can I argue with such a pretty lady.
Careful, Bub. I've still got a loaded gun, remember?
That you do, little missy. That you do. And so we covered everything up, scorched the land where the
Wampoke house once stood, and Mazzie Haler and Bertie Egg Wampoke walked away Scott Free to live a new
life. Sure, Bertie had murdered my son, but let's face it, he was becoming a liability.
And the job was done, so who was I to argue? Birdie and Mazzie were never heard from again,
save for the time someone spotted two hooded figures standing on the outskirts of the
Wampoke family funeral, which had a surprisingly large attendance given I'd always thought
they were the town freaks. Oh, what now, baby bird?
Well, first, I think I gotta pick a new name.
Birdy egg stands out just a little, don't it?
Any ideas?
Something normal.
That's right.
When you're trying to escape the Wampoke legacy,
something normal is the way forward.
They call me, Alexa, dear.
But you've probably heard me referred to as
Anne-Billin Wampoke.
Our dead sister and Bolin?
The very same.
But I didn't die that night during Cornelius' bar fight.
The blow to the skill sent his memory all crazy.
I took my opportunity and ran.
You see, having Cornelius as a brother wasn't exactly part of my life goal.
So I changed my name, headed to Hollywood,
and became an entertainment lawyer.
And I have a proposal that'll make you girls rich.
Very rich.
The story that happened that night.
Well, it's just got to be told, hasn't it?
We can change a few details.
Make sure you're not connected to it in reality.
But I can act as your lawyer and make sure you get big, fat royalty checks.
What do you say, girls?
Well, I've always wanted to be ridiculously rich.
It's true.
And I've always wanted to go traveling.
I hear there's America's largest lock and key not far from here.
I'll be in touch. Don't worry.
I'll know how to find you.
We want folks have a way.
Just take care out there, girls.
And let me tell you, you make a real cute couple.
Just try not to get involved in any yom for you.
sacrificial rights.
I got a feeling you might be eligible these days.
I got a feeling you might be right.
Come on, Mazzie.
Let's go get fucked up on White Claws.
Party till the sun comes up and get rich as fuck.
Worry?
Nobody knows you escape the slaughter, my precious little yomphrew.
There's plenty of sin out there.
Plenty of sacrifices.
We'll bring the rest of you through yet.
I mean, check out that guy.
He's just prime for sacrifice.
He's the sheriff of this town.
He was there that night.
And won't tear in him apart be such a joy.
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And now let's get back to the Grind House Special.
An innocent yard sale.
An innocuous looking board game.
Whoa, what's this?
Looks like Monopoly.
Boring.
No, I've heard about this.
This game is cursed.
Three dollars?
That's one dollar each.
Let's do it.
But how could they know?
Roll the dice.
I'll go first.
Two sixes.
That once they started playing.
Nice.
You landed on a happy square.
Weird.
I do feel happier.
The only way to stop.
My turn.
Double once.
Snake eyes.
I've landed on...
Oh, God.
Was to get slapped upside the back of the head.
A happy slap chap is here.
And if you're not happy, then it's time to get.
It's sloppy.
Wait.
What?
I don't want to get...
What began as a fad in the United Kingdom?
It's him.
It's the guy we watched on YouTube
getting slapped to death when we were in middle school.
We laughed at him.
We shared it with our friends.
Those crazy Brits, we said.
Did you have to hit me so hard, dude?
Would become a curse in the United States.
Ouch!
Quick, roll again.
Happy.
You're safe, for now.
I mean, can't we just stop playing?
No, you have to finish the game.
And soon these cursed teens would learn.
Thank God, happy again.
That once you feel the crack...
Oh, God, it's my go.
There's no turning back.
My square says happy or slappy.
What does that mean? What does it mean?
It means you get to choose. A slap to the head or a slap to the ass.
I can't decide. I can't decide.
From Blood Clucker Pictures and Rickory Breen, director of a Wampook family dinner,
and what have they done with the Crystal Cat's head.
If you can't decide, then it's time you have.
died.
The Happy Slap Chap
on home video
this fall.
And there we have it, folks.
The marvelous grindhouse
masterpiece, a Wampoke
Family Dinner, followed by
the trailer for the director's
infamously canceled movie,
The Happy Slapchap.
And speaking of the director,
we have the man himself,
Rickory Breen, in the studio
with us tonight.
Evening, Dougal.
It's great to be here.
here. Uh, it's David, never mind. So, Rickory, is it okay if I call you, Rickory?
Well, generally I prefer Dr. Breen, but you can call me Rickery, sure.
You're a doctor? Sure. A doctor of horror. A surgeon of sinister. A, uh, nurse of nasty.
Yes. Well, anyway, I think it would be fair to say. Your career.
careers had a somewhat strange trajectory.
Hasid?
Well, I mean, your first movie,
what have they done with the Crystal Cat's head,
which we'll be watching shortly, folks,
was hailed as one of the greatest modern Gialos
ever to hit the silver screen.
Then your next two movies were accused
of being straight-up remakes of Susperia,
and then you released a Wampoke family dinner.
Ah, I see, I see.
So you're saying, I started high,
had a dip and then got back on top.
Um, sure, if you see it that way.
But, of course, a Wampoke family dinner has its detractors.
What great art doesn't.
Beloved critic Gene Rawlson called it, quote,
The most pathetically transparent attempt to prove he's a feminist
that a male director has ever shat onto celluloid, end quote.
That guy, God rest his soul,
was a fucking idiot.
And of course, Anna Martinson,
the actor who played Bertie Egg in the movie,
once famously described it in an interview
as being like, quote,
the fever dream of a lesbian who hates men, end quote.
Right.
Yes.
See, people took that as criticism.
But to me, that was the highest of compliments.
I'm not a lesbian, of course.
But I do hate men.
I mean,
Look at us. We're disgusting.
Look at Harris in that movie.
If that's not proof that we, as a gender, need to change, then what is?
Well, I mean, Harris was a fictional character.
Sure.
But he was a self-insert.
A younger version of me.
An inferior version.
So you used to travel the States having sex with women and collecting naked polarites of them?
Yes.
Exactly. But I grew up. I realized I was wrong. And I made that movie as atonement. And that's exactly where Anna was coming from in the interview. She was saying, I've changed, become a better person, that I fully understand women now.
Well, but in the exact same interview, Anna also claimed that you spent at least 80% of your time together on set trying to get her to pose naked for your Polaroid collection.
which was the one actually used in the movie.
She did, however, add that the writer of the movie was adorable, hot, and so precious,
she often kept you away from her with a machete.
What do you say to that, Rickory?
Listen, Rome wasn't built in a day.
I'm not settling for this abuse.
That's the Polaroids, isn't it?
That's the nudie photos from the movie.
You still carry them ten years later.
Actually, no, that's my credit cards.
You have 36 credit cards?
Stop trying to look at them!
I'm done!
Interview over!
Well, okay.
Also joining us in the studio tonight is actress Lana Branning,
who starred as Maisie in a Wampoke family dinner,
and was due to appear as Cherry Murphy in the Happy Slap Chap until it was canceled.
Yeah.
Christ, what a shit show.
You know, I kind of enjoyed Wampokes.
I'm not convinced Ricker,
motives were all that pure, but I managed to dodge all his advances, and I kind of had fun with the movie.
It was the Happy Slap I really hated.
Rumor has it that the movie involved a spanking scene in which the titular villain Happy Slapped Your Bear Behind for 10 solid minutes.
It's become something of a sought-after item among cult movie connoisseurs.
So, that scene did exist, but it's not quite what people think.
In fact, in the movie, I choose slappy, not happy, and get slapped upside the head.
It's me who chooses happy when given the choice.
And what better way to introduce our final guest, Mr. Carruthers-Smithington?
So you're saying that in the Happy Slap chap, there's a scene in which your bear behind is slapped for 10 minutes straight?
Correct. In fact, if I recall, there's no female nudity in that movie whatsoever.
As someone who went on to win six Oscars,
you must be relieved that the spanking scene never saw the light of day.
Ah, not frost really.
In fact, I've been trying to get the rides to put it up on my website.
But Rickory Breen won't play ball.
He wants to remake the movie.
As the Titty Twist Terror.
Instead of happy slapping, the ghoul comes out and squeezes girls' boobs
until they finish the board game.
He asked me to star in it.
I laughed in his face.
I'm pretty sure the studio did, too.
Well, thank you both for coming in and giving us more insight into this visionary director.
We're about to sit down with his only critically appraised piece.
But first, we'll share the trailer for his next masterpiece, releasing exclusively on...
A porn streaming site, and there's no nudity in that one either.
A friend in production leaked me a copy.
It's something, all right.
Hit it.
In a world where crime runs rampant.
Have them killed? Have them all killed?
And lawlessness is a way of life.
Have their families killed and their families' families and their Instagram followers?
Only one man can sift through the dirt of this society.
No, not him?
I can't let him get through to the boss.
It's okay. I dig ya, pal.
Right through the chest.
Sewing the seeds of vengeance for the family he lost.
I can't be you.
You can't be back.
You were dead.
We buried you.
Guess you didn't dig deep enough, Bub.
Goodness always flourishes, even in the dirt.
But the gardener killed you.
I saw it with my own eyes.
What eyes?
Now nothing can stop his rampage for revenge.
I'm gonna stop you.
No, you're not.
It can't be, it can't be you.
I was so close, so close to building my empire.
That's right, old man.
So close, but not close enough.
because it's time for your reckoning.
It's time to come face to face with.
The Trowell.
The first self-published crowdfunded movie
from director Rickory Breen,
starring Rickory Breen as The Trowel.
Rickory Breen as ill-fated goon.
Rickory Breen as face-stabbed goon.
Rickory Breen as high-ranking goon.
Boris Karloff, John.
as the gardener and special guest star Rickory Breen as Mickey Rourke.
The Trowel, available this summer, only on Pornflub.
Well, I for one can't wait.
And now we shall witness the acting prowess of Atticus Jackson,
Aaron Lillis, Nicole Doolin, Dan Zepula, Alexis Bristow,
Graham Rowett, Erica Sanderson, David Alt,
Matthew Bradford, Jessica McAvoy, Addison Peacock, and special guest star, Eden, in a gialo in which heads will roll, as author Olivia White presents.
What have they done with the Crystal Cat's Head?
Baby, wow, your picks on the app didn't do you justice.
Ooh, you're, something all right.
Holy wow.
Am I ready to be your bitch?
or what?
A sex kitten, a few words, huh?
I like that.
So, what's in the bag?
Are those your tools to punish me?
That sounds a little heavy duty.
That's a joke, right?
That's not for...
What the fuck?
No, no, keep away from me.
No, I'm too decadent.
Beautiful to die.
No, no, no, stop, stop.
We're getting ahead of ourselves here, Brianna.
Yeah, that was the first bloody beheading.
But it wasn't the first head that got cut off, was it?
Unfortunately, no.
And not that we knew it at the time, but the first decapitation was the most important.
It's like they say, the first cut is the deepest.
I mean, it wasn't the deepest, really.
It was just...
It's a song, Detective Logan, by Cat Stevens.
Thank you, Officer Brianna.
But please, let's not mention it.
cats. After all, it was a cat getting its head cut off that began all this.
Don't worry, though. It wasn't a real cat. No animals were harmed here.
Who are you talking to, Officer Brianna?
I always just assume all our conversations are being bugged. You never know who's listening.
Aliens, government officials, etc.
Officer, we literally are government officials. But anyway, we're getting ahead of ourselves.
To go over this case properly, we need to go back. Back to the museum.
And is this really the only security camera footage you have of the incident?
I'm afraid so.
All the cameras were out, apart from the one pointed at the window of the West Wing.
So the thief took the cameras out?
No, we only have the budget for one operating camera.
So you chose the one pointing at the window instead of, I don't know, any of the priceless exhibits?
That's what I said.
Well, my logic was, as the museum guard, it's your job.
to guard the exhibits.
You're like a walking-talking camera.
It's better than having you standing, staring at a window.
See what I have to put up with?
Perhaps you could head off and go guard stuff
instead of giving me a hard time?
You know, do your job.
Fine. Sure of a stick or other, sir.
Why is she laughing?
What on earth did I say that was funny?
I think it was the head-off comment, sir.
And just who are you exactly?
This is Officer Brianna.
She's been assigned to this case to take notes and listen to my musings.
This might be her big break to make detective.
You say that every time, boss.
And it's true every time.
Okay, so let's go over this one more time.
We have precisely 30 seconds of footage.
Someone uses a diamond cutter to cut a circular hole in the window.
Then he reaches in wearing a black glove and unlocks the window.
Or she, we don't know they're a man.
Fair point.
Either way, they're a cat burglar.
Are you mocking me, detective?
Not at all.
Anyway, the black glove thief unlocks the window, darts inside all shadowy-like.
Like that guy from Splinter's, so...
Is that another 60s band?
Never mind.
Darts inside, and then we lose them.
They clearly don't exit through the window with their prize because they never reappear on camera.
My theory is that they exited through the front door.
Why is that?
Because when I got here to unlock this morning,
The front door was wide open, and this note was stuck to it.
And was the paper this crumpled and ripped when you found it?
Uh, no, that was me. I was very angry, you see.
I may have screwed it up and stomped on it a few times.
Well, forensics are going to love that.
I think it's about time we checked out the crime scene, don't you?
Look at what they've done!
Look at what they've done to my beautiful crystal cat.
You, Carruthers.
I'll have your job for this.
You shall be curator of this museum no longer.
Uh, excuse me, but may I ask who you are, ma'am?
That's Felicia Person.
An extremely affluent donor on the board of directors,
who has also very kindly loaned us her one-of-a-kind crystal cat
for the centerpiece of our ancient Mesopotamian artifacts exhibit.
And I'm assuming that when you loaned the item, it had a head, unlike now.
Yes, it had a head, and now it does not.
I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Person.
That's Ms. Thank you.
Oh, and officer, if this imbecile curator makes a single pussy joke in my presence,
please arrest him on the spot.
I had enough of those when I had the damn thing shipped in.
Consider it a promise, although I'm a detective.
Detective Logan, only the best for a woman such as yourself.
Gosh, look at the cut.
This is a really neat professional job.
The head hasn't been just smashed off.
It's been cut, flawlessly.
I repeat, this is a professional job.
Of course it's a professional job.
But why?
Why take the head?
The head alone isn't valuable.
The statue itself is priceless.
But the head is just a broken piece of a priceless statue.
In fact, dozens of them were found during archaeological expeditions.
What makes this statue so special is that it's the only complete example ever found.
You can buy Crystal Cat statue heads in just about any market in Syria.
I don't understand the point of all this.
Well, rest assured, Miss Person, the best detectives in Mesa are on the case.
Finding out the whys and hows will be our absolute top priority.
You have our undivided, unbridled attention.
First things first, we'll...
Holy mother-of-pearl necklaces!
Really?
This is huge!
This is way bigger than some ugly-ass damaged statue.
We'll be right there.
Excuse me?
Please don't tell me I heard what I think I just heard.
Sorry, something urgent's come up.
But trust me, we'll get your cat's head back.
Detective, what's up?
Some actual real-life, actual genuine living dude
has had his actual, real-life, actual head chop the hell off.
Things like this just don't happen every day around here.
Well, what should we do about this damn break-in then?
No, I don't know.
I'll send some officers over to secure the crime scene.
In the meantime, maybe Mr. Curator here
can work on getting the security cameras actually functional.
Wait.
They're not functional.
Uh...
And that's our cue to leave.
Come on, Officer Brianna.
We've got a real crime to solve.
Okay, officer, thanks for guarding the crime scene.
You're dismissed.
I work better alone.
You mean the guy at the door, not me, right?
Yeah, you're fine. Come on in.
Oh, kind of wish I'd stayed outside.
Mmm.
Smells like...
Blood.
It smells like blood and human feces.
Very observant.
And I also do.
detect a faint odor of old mask. They don't sell that here. That's a clue. Our first clue.
I feel like our first clue is that body spread eagled on the bed, his blood soaking every inch of this room,
and his head being entirely absent. Point. I assume the first responders searched for his head.
No sign of it. Not a trace. We'll get forensics to give the place a good comb over.
but it looks like our Vix had his head taken from him.
That sound familiar to you at all?
I mean, there have been other crimes involving decapitation, yeah?
No, I mean, we literally just came from a crime scene
where a crystal cat statue had its head stolen.
Good Lord, you think they could be related?
The thief got a taste for head chopping
and unable to find another statue to satisfy his urges,
took them out on a real-life dude?
I mean, I was kind of just making a wry observation,
but I guess that is a possibility.
Sounds a bit ridiculous, though.
So you might think, but clearly you missed something.
This!
What the fuck?
How did you know that was there?
And shouldn't we have left that to the coroner?
You've kind of mutilated the body now.
Well, more so than he already was.
Hey, I see a clue.
I grab it.
I'm a maverick.
But how did you even see it?
I guess I've just got an eye for...
Business cards covered in blood and Icor?
I was going to...
I'm gonna say evidence, but it is funny how often that exact thing is the evidence we need.
Yeah.
Can you make out what it says?
Not really.
Let me run it under the cold tap.
Forensics!
Oh, never mind.
Well, well, well, lookie here.
It's a business card for an antique store, one that specializes in Mesopotamian artifacts.
What was that you said about my theory being ridiculous?
I mean, it was mine, but...
So I guess we're heading to the antique store next, huh?
It's like you read my mind.
Well, at least we've got an ID in our Vic now.
Vincent Irons, local businessman, and, by all accounts, Playboy.
So, let's see what our antiques dealer has to say about him.
Good afternoon, Detective, Officer.
I'm rather glad to see you.
Wait, how did you know we were cops?
Well, I mean, I called you.
And one of you is literally in a police officer uniform.
She has a point.
Okay, okay, but wait.
What do you mean you called us?
We came to ask you some questions.
Do you recognize this?
Well, yes, it's one of my business cards.
Covered in pink ink by the look of it.
Oh, that's blood.
I washed it off under the faucet.
What?
Oh, no.
Oh, I knew it.
Something terrible's happened to Robbie, isn't it?
Robbie, ma'am.
Robbie Richards?
My assistant.
The reason I called you.
He's been missing for every 24 hours.
Right.
Okay, okay.
First, are you familiar with a fellow named Vincent Irons?
The businessman?
I am, as a matter of fact.
He's purchased a few tribal masks from my store.
And...
My God told me there was something else.
Something important.
There's something else, isn't there?
Well, I'm not one for gossip,
but Robbie did mention that he'd matched with Mr. Irons
on one of those awful dating apps that all the young people use these days.
You mean Grindr?
Something like that.
He was sort of excited about it because Mr. Irons is a bit of a big deal, you know,
something of a local philanthropist.
So Robbie showed him that they'd matched.
It went a little bit over my head, but...
There we go with heads again.
Excuse me?
Ignore him.
Continue?
So they'd matched, and Robbie's kind of into the...
Filthy Ridge type?
Well, yes.
So they agreed to meet up.
Saturday night?
Saturday night.
That wasn't when our Vic died, was it?
No.
Coroner says sometimes Sunday evening.
Oh, God!
Robbie!
Is he...
Ma'am, this is an ongoing investigation?
Nah, it was our pal Vincent Irons who lost his head,
which unfortunately means your boy Robbie is now our prime suspect.
There's no way!
Robbie wouldn't hurt to fly!
I mean, literally, I have to kill spiders for him,
and we work in an antique store.
Ma'am, the best thing you can do now is take my card and give me a call if Robbie shows up.
Do not mention the murder or the fact he's wanted for questioning.
Don't worry, this one never had blood on it.
Well, that's a relief.
Okay, well, thank you for your time, ma'am.
Wait, wait.
Did Robbie say where he was meeting Mr. Irons?
Oh, gosh darn it, he did actually say.
Robbie fancies himself as a bit of a chef, so he invited Mr. Irons to his place.
A man's heart is through his stomach, they say.
In my line of work, it's generally his ribcage.
But could you be so kind as to provide us with Robbie's address?
The time of the romantic meal and the time of the murder don't add up to 24 hours.
So I'm sure it's a misunderstanding.
Hopefully, Robbie's date with Mr. Irons went so well that he's still nursing a hangover.
Man, if so, that's going to suck when he finds out his new lovers had his head locked off.
True, true, but these things have.
happen in Mesa? Not normally. Okay, but they do now. Officer Brianna, grab Robbie's address from
the nice lady. Let's go pay him a visit. So what do you reckon? Robbie Richards, villain, or victim?
Too early to say. Do we know how Mr. Irons' body was found? He'd been booked into the suite until
tomorrow. Strict instructions not to be disturbed. Security footage shows he entered the lobby alone.
What about beyond that? You're not going to believe it, but the guy's not.
Allie Hotel's security cameras are on the fritz.
All they got was five seconds of footage of a black-gloved hand
reaching out of an elevator door.
This is a joke, right?
Uh, um, anyway, we're here.
Well, looks like Robbie isn't our perp.
Now can you be sure?
This could be another of his victims.
Unlike someone, I thought to ask his boss for a photo.
I recognize the arm's sleeve tattoos.
They're his.
What the hell are you doing now?
Checking that the tattoos are real.
Ooh, they are.
Okay, so we have Robbie Richards hanging from the ceiling,
naked, and some kind of chain bondage swing.
Much like our first Vic, he's missing his head.
I'll get forensics in to check the scene,
but I'd bet my badge on the head being absent,
just like Irons was.
So, what are we thinking?
Our PURP lured Robbie into a date on Grindr,
pretending to be Vincent Irons,
then lured Irons into a date in the same way by pretending to be Robbie?
It's a solid theory.
So what?
We have a killer-targeting gay men
who particularly wants us to connect the victims.
There's no way Irons had swallowed that business card before he died.
It has to be related.
I'd imagine so, sir, yes.
But now we're kind of stumped.
We have two victims that connect in a sort of oroboros,
a snake eating its own tail.
One leads to the other.
I know what an oroboros is, officer.
But what if you look at that iconography in a different way?
It's not a snake eating its own tail, but a snake putting its tail into its head.
So the killer hates blowjobs?
I don't know.
I hadn't thought that far ahead to work out what it could imply.
Wait a minute.
Wait a goddamn minute.
Officer Brianna, I don't think we have an Ouroboros at all.
I think we have ourselves an honest-to-god change.
of clues. My favorite kind of chain. No offense, Robbie. God rest your soul. What is it then?
Well, on the bed, buried in a pile of blood and gore, I found a flyer, and you'll never believe what
it's for. Is it? What time is it, officer? Just past 10 p.m.
Way past closing, then. We're going to have to hurry. Anything could be happening.
It's coming from the Mesopotamia exhibit. Of course it is. It all ties to the Crystal Cat.
Oh my God!
Miss Person, please try to calm down.
I know this must be difficult.
I assume you discovered the body?
The body?
Oh, yes.
Yes, that's terrible.
But look, the rest of the crystal cat is gone.
Oh, wow.
So it is.
Did you not have anyone guarding it?
Or, you know, remove it entirely because it had been cappitated?
We had that guard on it.
But the thief must have knocked her out.
She's over there unconscious in a huge Greek urn.
Don't worry, I checked she was still alive.
I'm not a monster.
So what do we have?
The crystal cat's missing, and in its place we have the headless, limless, naked body of an unknown Vic.
He's not unknown.
It's Daniel Carruthers, the curator.
You spoke to him this morning.
Wait, how can you tell?
He's headless, limbless, and nude.
Because of that.
Let's...
Hmm.
Oh.
He has a birth mark just above his manhood.
Yes, in the shape of Andy Samberg.
Wow, it actually does look like him.
Okay, but how does that help you identify him?
It's, well, it's practically touching his penis.
A little bit intimate to be showing off at work, no?
Okay, fine.
Carruthers and I were, shall we say,
intimate from time to time, rather a lot of times.
In fact, if it had been up to him,
we'd have been bent over my desk in my office literally every night.
And okay, maybe I portray this stereotypically cold, rich woman
who only cares about her crystal cat
rather than the dismembered man sitting before her.
But...
I loved him, okay?
If I hadn't focused on the cat statue first, then I think I would have thrown myself out the window.
I loved him.
I loved my dear, dear Daniel so much.
I do love him.
We were to be married.
The whole dynamic we had at work, it was kind of role play, a bit of fun.
We were deeply in love.
I don't.
I have to.
Miss Person, I'm so sorry for your loss.
We have just a couple more questions,
then my officer will escort you outside for some fresh air.
Do you think you could handle that?
Yes, yes.
Anything to catch Daniel's killer.
Fuck the cat.
I just want the man who did this to him found and executed.
I understand.
I realize this is awkward to ask,
but did Mr.
Could others have any other sexual proclivities other than, well, you?
I'm not sure what you mean.
Well, okay.
We're working from the theory that our killer is meeting men through this app, Grindr,
and using this to select his victims.
Daniel, use Grindr?
Good Lord.
I regularly had to talk him through how to use Microsoft Word.
But no, on top of that, he certainly wasn't into men.
In fact, a couple of weeks ago, Daniel's nephew came out as gay,
and Daniel is... was...
A bit of an old soul.
Found it very hard to relate to the idea of being attracted to other men.
So he did a lot of research and asked a lot of questions,
determined to fully understand what it was like for his nephew,
so he could be there to support him.
It was incredibly sweet, actually.
He was...
I think we can leave it there for now.
Come on, Miss Person.
Let me take you out to get some coffee.
That would be lovely.
Thank you.
But no, Daniel was definitely not gay.
And had definitely never used Grindr.
Man, I hate doing this by myself.
With that officer Brianna around,
I have nobody to monologue too.
I know. I'll break up my trusty dictaphone app and record what I'd say to her into it.
It'll be like I'm talking straight to her.
Officer Brianna. Hi. This is Detective Logan speaking.
I'm bored and I'm investigating a crime scene by myself.
I found some masking tape, so I've sealed off the Mesopotamia exhibit.
I checked Mr. Carruthers' body, but I couldn't find any clues this time.
A bit disappointed.
Hope Forensics can do.
dig something up. Now I'm just wandering the museum. That guard's still out cold in a Greek urn.
I got bored and checked her pulse. She's still alive, but we should probably call the paramedics
for her sometime. I'll do that later. This place is pretty much entirely deserted. I'm surprised
it's not busier, even despite the murder. Isn't this museum really popular?
Heading to the zoological exhibit now?
Holy Frankenstein's weiner! Officer Brianna, you gotta see this!
I found an absolutely giant cockroach in a glass case.
There's a short, stocky bald fella studying it.
Probably some cockroach officiado.
I'll never understand, people.
I could, sir. This is no cockroach.
Officer Brianna, the bald man is telling me it's not a cockroach.
Indeed. This is a giant isobod.
They live underwater.
Don't worry, you won't find one of these in your kitchen.
Update.
He says it's a giant isopod, and they live underwater.
Fascinating creatures, they are.
Members of the Bathenumous genus.
Nearly 20 different species exist.
This one here in the display case is, in fact, a preserved version of the second largest giant isopod ever caught.
If you look on the plaque, you'll see they named him Phil.
I find Phil a bit unsettling.
Most people do.
And yet, they make great pets, would you believe?
I used to have a menagerie of them until my landlord caught wind and had me release them into the wild.
Mind you, they can be vicious little critters, too.
In fact, a few years ago, they released footage of one of them biting a shark's face off.
Oh, God, I hate sharks and all.
Don't tell me he used to collect those as well.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
Sharks can be wonderful creatures, but a small apartment on East Main Street is hardly the location for an aquarium full of sharks.
Especially not when you live on the third floor, building three apartments.
3, 3rd floor. They do say bad luck comes in threes. Anyway, here's a secret. Phil the Isopod used to be one of
mine. When he passed away, I donated him to the museum. Sometimes I drop in and check on him,
just to be sure he hasn't lost his head stuck in a glass case alone like that. Isn't
That right little fellow.
With all due respect to the dear departed Phil, I'm glad he's no longer alive.
I wouldn't like to meet him in the dark alley.
I'm sure he'd be more afraid of you in a dark alley than you would of him.
But anyway, detective, my time with Phil is over for the day.
I must be off.
Good luck with whatever business brings you here.
Well, he was an odd fellow, Officer Brianna.
In this fill, ISO-cockroach thing is skeeving me out.
I'm going to head outside to meet you.
Officer Brianna.
My God, I've missed you.
Oh, the paramedics have taken Miss Person to the hospital for shock.
Okay?
Oh, you're heading home for the night, too.
I guess we have had a pretty active day.
Forensics are heading in.
Yeah, I guess I should go home and get some rest, too.
Good night, Officer Brianna.
Oh, wow.
Almost gave me a heart attack.
Dude, did you sleep here all night?
I was here all night, yes.
Whether I slept or not is another matter.
But I have a major update on the case for you.
Oh, yeah?
Yep.
Forensics found precisely no clues at the crime scene.
Nothing to link us to a possible next Vic.
I mean, I guess that means it could be over?
Yeah, but we can't just let the case.
killer of three men, Rome pre.
The press are going to start getting wind of this.
And then the chief will be all up on my ass.
Like, why aren't you solving crimes, Logan?
Why are you waiting to the killings?
Just stop.
Okay.
So is that the entire major update?
Well, no.
They also said the cuts to the body were likely made with some kind of buzzsaw.
Yeah, just like the other victims.
Yeah.
But this time they got the impression
at some kind of industrial buzzsaw for cutting up meat.
Like at an abattoir?
Great. So we got the Arizona Chainsaw Massacre on our hands.
I mean, that was a chainsaw.
Yeah, but never mind.
Okay, so was that it?
Nope.
I also made you one of my famous audio recordings while you were off with Miss Person.
Okay, cool, but nothing happens so I can just skip this one, right?
No, you have to listen.
I found the wildest thing.
It's super important.
Well, why didn't you lead with that?
Well, I mean, it's not case-related.
important, but please.
Fine.
Air drop it to me and I'll give it a listen while I go out to grab my morning coffee, which I
have not had yet.
I guess I'll get back to hoping a clue will land in my lap.
And that never works.
Boss!
Boss!
Holy shit!
You're an idiot, but you're also a genius.
Hey, isn't that exactly what they said in the paper that time I solved the Mikalski
case?
Never mind that.
Did you listen back to the recording you made last night?
No.
Well, yes, several times.
I was bored, okay?
And I like the sound of my own voice.
And you didn't notice anything strange?
Other than Phil the terrifying isopod?
No.
This is exactly about Phil the terrifying isopod.
Oh, God, why?
Boss, listen.
What time did we arrive at the museum last night?
About 10.30.
And what did you say right before we left for the museum?
We're going to have to hurry.
Anything could be happening.
Okay, one sentence before those two sentences.
Come on.
I said, oh, holy shit.
I said way past closing then.
Because it was way past closing.
The museum closes at seven.
And yet on the recording you mentioned
and then had an extended conversation with
a supposed visitor to the museum.
Okay.
I guess I can't talk my way out of this one.
I fucked up.
It was Miss Person's sob story. It really got to me, okay? I wasn't thinking straight.
Never mind that now. The point is we have the killer on tape.
Right. I see why you're excited, but listen, you didn't see the guy. He was tiny, frail, walked with a limp.
And furthermore, he wasn't even carrying a bag, let alone a massive buzzsaw or the majority of a crystal cat statue.
Okay, fine, but which way did he go?
Deeper into the museum. But there's no way that guy I met could be the killer.
He couldn't have overpowered any of our Vicks.
Right, but he could have been heading off to meet the killer somewhere in the museum.
But none of this is the important part.
The important part is while you were talking, he actively, deliberately gave you his address.
Oh, God damn.
Officer, get the motor running.
I think we've got ourselves into the crime scene.
Well, I guess we can definitely rule out our theory that our killers specifically targeting men.
At least he posed her tastefully.
I mean, sure.
She's sitting on the couch fully dressed, but her head's still gone.
Something tells me this isn't that Isopod guy's apartment at all.
You know what else is great?
I spoke to the building super.
None of the security cameras are working, apart from one pointing at the stairwell,
which is functioning fine, but it's been knocked out of alignment,
so all you can see is footage of a dark corner and people's hands if they hold one specific part of the corner of the handrail.
And let me guess.
For a brief second, the camera caught a glimpse of a black glove.
I can't explain why, but I feel like this case is drawing to a close.
Why's that?
I just said I can't explain why.
But I can't explain this.
A photo of two women?
You think one of them is our Vic?
I'm certain of it.
Look at the note on it.
Detective Logan, if you wish to see these dear sisters reunited, then you will follow my instructions.
Return with Officer Brianna to the station.
Explain the case to your chief up to this point,
excluding the discovery of this note.
Tell them you are working on clues.
Then, Officer Brianna take the rest of the day off.
Do whatever you police officers do in your spare time.
Detective Logan, drive around Mesa until you receive a text.
It will contain an address.
Show up, alone.
If you alert anyone or bring Officer Brianna along with you,
then Dear Dahlia Audrey will be joining her sister,
and yell in losing her head.
If you follow these instructions to the letter,
then the murders will end tonight.
And I promise you shall be the cop
who brings the killer to justice.
Yours, B.W.
Well, I guess we'd better do what it says.
I mean, it absolutely sounds like a trap,
but I don't really see how.
You're not exactly a hard guy to kill.
No offense.
If it means saving one life, then I'll do it.
I know it's not playing by the book, but...
You're a maverick, yes, yes.
So we followed the...
notes directions. We returned to the station. We told the chief what B.W. had instructed.
I didn't like it, but what could I do? I took the rest of the day off. And I drove around,
waiting for instructions. Eventually, I received a text from an unknown number. It directed me
to an address in Scottsdale. I recognized the area. An ex had worked as an accountant at Global
Trans there. I'd taken her to the Odyssey Aquarium on her first date. It had been a blast.
Our second date at the nearby Hooters hadn't gone over so well.
I was young and foolish.
Based on my knowledge of the area, and fueled with courage from my cringing embarrassment at my
youthful behavior, I drove up to the location filled with bravado.
It was a mansion.
I'd seen it before back in the day.
I'd always envied whoever lived there.
By then it was dark.
The gate opened for me as I drove up the large driveway.
I got out of my vehicle.
I walked up to the front door.
It was open.
I stepped inside, into the grandest hallway I'd ever seen,
decorated with unusual artifacts, ancient statues,
and most importantly, preserved giant isopods.
And at the foot of the stairs, he stood.
Our killer, it had to be him.
The rugged build, the cold glint in his eye,
and the black gloves he wore on each hand.
And in one of them, he held a silenced pistol trained on me.
So you're BW.
You're the killer I'm looking for.
That's me, in the flesh.
You can call me Bridgewaters.
So Officer Brianna was right.
This was a trap.
You look like the kind of man to put two in the chest and one in the forehead.
Ruthless, a killer.
But we in this.
Can you at least indulge me with a few answers?
Well, I'm nothing if not accommodating.
Why kill them? Why kill those people?
Ha! That's the million dollar question, ain't it?
Literally, that's the answer. A million dollars.
Huh?
Some rich old dude paid me a million dollars to take five people's heads and steal that damn cat!
Wait, so, why decapitate the cat first?
Ah, the big mystery. Well, okay, detective. Listen up! I came from a little bit of you.
I came from a difficult family, a real strange family as it happens, with some real strange beliefs.
Good people, I swear, but a little bit touched in the head.
They had this notion that sex was a sin and took it upon themselves to try raising a group of mythical beings who could cleanse the world of impurity.
Like I said, well-meaning, a bit loopy if you ask me.
Anyway, some real bad stuff went down, and now most of my kin ain't around no more.
Maybe one day someone will make a movie of it.
I reckon it'll make for a real compelling view, and all murder and mayhem,
and curse ye who deigns to stick that dick into a woman's badge, all that stuff.
Okay, so you had it rough.
I don't understand how this relates to you decapitating the crystal cat.
Oh, well, that's simple.
My family was so obsessed with this purity shit, and I was the black sheep, so that you.
to speak, didn't really buy into the whole sex as evil and wrong business, so they kind of gave up
on me. Yes, yes, and the cat? Oh, right. Well, it just means they never bothered to teach me to read,
right. I had to teach myself, but I ain't perfect. So when my benefactor texts me and says,
get the cat and cut off the heads, I kind of missed the S, and assumed he wanted me to cut off
the cat's head. Turns out he didn't. There was two separate instructions.
But hey, good news.
Apparently it didn't matter none.
He was going to cut the cat's head off anyway.
Boy, I thought I was for it.
But I did all them other decapitation's good
and managed to get the rest of the cat and everything's just grand.
Okay.
So let me get this straight.
You've done all this completely weird, brutal,
incomprehensible shit with absolutely no clue as to why,
other than someone was giving you a million dollars to do it.
That about sums it up.
Cousin Breed is.
Water, I mean, uh, Bridge Waters.
He don't ask no questions.
Just does what he's told.
And when someone tells me to do something and promises me a million bucks for doing it,
then I sure as shit ain't asking questions even less than I'd be asking questions before,
which was never.
Man, when I was starting to think I was a failure for being unable to solve the case,
turns out the killer's even more clueless about the motive than I am.
Man, you were still clueless, though, all on that grinder investigation.
It was tender, not grinder.
I got you a bit, didn't I?
Yeah, but I mean, you also left us clues leading us through the whole investigation.
Wait, no, I did not.
And that note you left signed BW, instructing me to come here.
You obviously wanted me to find you so you could kill me.
Wait, now wait just a goddamn minute.
I didn't leave you no note nor no clues.
I was just paid an extra 20 bucks to stand at the bottom of these stairs all evening
in case anyone showed up.
The cool millions in that bag over there.
Soon as you're done yapping, I'm off.
Old Bridgewaters don't kill people for no reason.
Ain't nobody paying me to kill you.
As far as I'm concerned, I'll let you walk out of here if you let me.
I mean, I'm a cop and you're a serial killer.
I'm not sure I can agree to that.
Well, fine.
I ain't being paid to kill you, but I ain't letting you take my million bucks either.
Rest in pieces, law man.
Goodness.
Me, does this man ever shut up?
Hey, you might have paid me a million bucks, but...
Well, that's one head I don't mind passing up on.
Now then, Detective Logan, unless you'd like to join the wretched Mr. Waters in a bloody mess on the floor,
then I suggest you join me upstairs in the laboratory.
I have something to show you that'll blow your mind.
Pardon the pun.
This is insane.
There are things in these tubes that shouldn't exist.
Can't exist.
Ah, but they do, detective, but they do.
You see, the giant isopod was merely the beginning of my fascination with the oddity that is life.
I scoured the globe, discovering and dissecting the strangest, most business.
bizarre creatures I could find. But then I discovered there was something more, something much, much more.
A voice came to me in my dreams, an angelic female voice telling of other realities, other planes,
other times. A pale, dark-haired angel she was, although, if I'm to be truthful, I rather suspect she was a demon.
Why, what I wouldn't give to cut her open on my autopsy table.
So these creatures, these monsters, they came from her?
In a sense, she took me to places I couldn't even dream of.
Yagoth, Karkoza, unknown Gadath.
And she allowed me to take samples, helped me capture beasts that would change
everything we knew about biology. But then one day I offended her. A simple slight, really,
a trifle. I merely remarked that she was beautiful. And with that she cursed me and abandoned me.
Now I can no longer speak of my discoveries. If I attempt to remove any of them from this room,
they disintegrate.
If I try to speak of the forbidden knowledge,
I've discovered all that comes out is gibberish.
Listen, let me try to explain the biology
of that mushroom-looking thing in the tank over there.
You may believe me to be crazy, but you try it.
Just try describing that same being beyond mushroom-looking thing.
You see, we are cursed men.
cursed with knowledge that could change the world but unable to speak it.
But then I discovered the legend of the crystal cat.
Statues created by the ancient Mesopotamians to speak the innate knowledge of mankind,
that which we knew but could not vocalize.
And the legends claimed they worked.
That's why so many...
Crystal cat heads exist, but no bodies. The process leaves the head intact, but shatters the body.
Every crystal cat head discovered is a tool that has been used to voice one of mankind's
future discoveries, the wheel, the internal combustion engine, the internet. The conjurer merely
has to think of the kind of knowledge they wish for, and the crystal cat will speak it
directly from their subconscious.
So you want the crystal cat to speak the words you can't,
to share the information you've discovered?
Yes, I have recording devices all over this room,
so many that they can't all possibly fail.
Okay, so even assuming I believe this lunacy,
what's with the whole severing people's heads thing?
Yes, well, that is unfortunate.
You see, for the crystal cat,
to work, its head must be replaced by five of those who have been touched by something from beyond.
Using a complicated ritual, I was able to identify five of these people, by what they were
touched, or if they even knew, I have no idea.
Dahlia Audrey isn't still alive, is she? You just wanted me here to witness this to prove
you aren't mad. I'm sorry, but you speak the truth. And I believe that when you hear,
hear what the crystal cat has to say, you'll understand the worthiness of the sacrifices.
It's under that red cloth, isn't it? That large lump and red cloth in the center of the room?
Well, I believe it's time you saw for yourself. Oh, that's vile. All five heads sprouting from
the crystal cat's body. How are they even attached? It's like the flesh has melded with the crystal.
Even if I could explain, my tongue won't let me, but let that bother us no more, Detective Logan.
For now, all I shall have to do is hold aloft the head of the crystal cat itself,
and the being shall share all the knowledge I hold.
Speak of what lies inside my mind, blessed feline.
Franco Regis.
You have been a fun little play thing.
What?
No.
No, this isn't...
This is her.
The angel.
The demon.
Spending your entire life in pursuit of being able to share the knowledge I gave you,
watching you go slowly more and more insane.
It's been fun.
But I'm bored now.
There is no magical crystal cat that will share your knowledge.
There is nothing you can do or say to share with the world that which I do not wish you to share.
You were simply a toy, a puppet.
But why?
Honestly, because even gods get bored.
But I have new projects now and you're simply a nuisance.
You, on the other hand, Detective Logan,
I feel like we'll be meeting again.
Now, to put an end to this ridiculous charade.
I can't... I... I... I haven't. I won't...
No!
And with that, every creature in his lab disintegrated.
Every piece of equipment fizzled and burned out.
I stood in an almost empty room filled with shattered crystal and exploded human heads.
And for once, even I was at a loss for words.
I checked the recording devices, of course.
Not one of them had picked up a thing.
I tested the Crystal Cat's promise.
Not a word could I speak of what I'd seen, what I knew.
I found a piece of paper and tried to write it down.
It came out as scribbles.
It was going to make the report really goddamn hard to file.
So in the end, I lied.
I said a madman had hired a hitman to decapitate people
because he was insane and had been slided by those people.
I said he stole the crystal cat simply because he knew it would piss off Mr. Carruthers,
one of his victims.
I said Dahlia Audrey was already dead when I got there, which was true.
I know Officer Brianna doesn't believe me.
I've tried to tell her the truth, and it comes out as gibberish.
Usually she looks at me pityingly, but sometimes, just sometimes there's a...
knowing look in her eye, a glint of knowledge that makes me wonder. And the thing it makes me wonder
about I think of all the time. Before it destroyed itself, the crystal cat promised me one thing.
She promised we would meet again. And as far as I know, that hasn't happened yet.
And that's that. What have they done with the crystal cat's head, directed by Ricker
Rebrein.
Wow.
I forgot I was even in that one.
Playing a severed head.
Your first role, in fact.
My big break.
Man, I looked so young there.
Oh, my dear.
Maybe you looked a little younger there,
but you don't look a day older
than when you were in a Wampoke family dinner.
You're a gentleman,
but I'm an old woman now.
I know my looks have faded, trust me.
Hollywood let me know that a long time ago.
I'd like to know your secret, though, Crothers.
You look exactly the same now as you did in the movie.
Huh, I wish.
I had hair back then, and I could actually walk without a frame.
And I didn't need a bag to...
Well, never mind that.
Wait, hold on. I'm confused.
I don't get the joke.
You had hair back then?
You have hair now.
Huh.
Well, what do you know?
So I do.
And, uh, Lana dear, I wasn't actually being complimentary when I said you don't look a day older than the Wampoke days.
How long ago was that, Carruthers?
It was, uh, five years or...
Five years? Try 45.
Or was it 80?
Or was it last week?
I can't remember.
Why can't I remember?
Let's move on for a moment.
Carruthers, would you say that your appearance in...
what have they done with the Crystal Cat's head was a favorite of your career?
Not just my appearance, the whole movie.
It was the biggest role I'd ever had, and my most critically acclaimed, and, well,
after that, Rickory Breen had kind of locked me into a ten-movie exclusivity contract,
and he certainly never sustained his career long enough to make ten movies.
But, unfortunately, I was naive, and there was no timed clause.
The contract only expires upon his death, so I haven't really been able to star in anything since.
Didn't you win a bunch of awards?
Oscars and stuff?
We talked about it earlier.
I did.
I did?
I dreamed of it.
I...
I...
What were the names of the movies you won Oscars for, Carruthers?
Well, they were...
I can't...
I can't remember.
I had a successful career.
I remember that much, or do I?
My head is so foggy.
Lana, what about you?
What was your favorite movie of your career?
It has to be a Wamboke family dinner.
I started in a bunch of far better movies,
but that one was my favorite,
even despite rickory dickhead.
I had a lot of fun with the movie.
The cast was great,
and I met my husband, Carl Raker, on that set.
Carl Raker, of course.
Being the fellow who played Harris Sawyer in Wampokes,
the character who initially tries to get your character
to have sex with him in a seedy gastation outhouse.
Oh, yes.
He's a complete sweetie in real life.
He got real shy about some of the lines Ricker had him say.
It kind of comes across in the movie at times.
And the scene where he had to wave that goddamn wallet of naked
Polaroids at me. Oh Lord, he was so mortified and apologetic. Like, he was worried I'd think they were his.
Later, he came to my trailer and apologized for having to show me those, and I'd just showered,
and I was in my bathrobe, and I said, Carl, it's okay. I have seen a naked woman's body before.
And then I dropped the robe, and he went so scarlet. It was adorable.
and then he was in my arms and it was the best night of my life and we've been in love ever since
how is karl these days of course he went on to star in other movies too carl's well he's at home and
or no did he did he die i think i think carl die a long time a long time
time ago. It's so foggy.
Carruthers, tell me about Crystal Cat. There's more to this story. You didn't just star in it,
did you? There's a reason it was Rickory Breen's only critically acclaimed movie.
Okay. I directed most of it. Breen was off his face on God knows what, and someone had to do it.
And he made me sign a contract that I'd remain uncredited, that if I never said a word, he'd make me a star.
And he did.
I won those Oscars for...
Wait, can you cut this bit?
An exclusivity contract bit.
Wait, this show isn't live, is it?
It's pre-recorded.
Can you see any cameras at all, Carruthers?
I...
Can't.
I can see a screen.
A screen where we watch the movies.
And...
And I see us reflected in it.
I'm different.
I'm old.
This is who I am.
This is what I remember.
Lana, what do you see?
I see the screen, the reflection,
and I see an old woman,
a very old woman.
I see myself.
And you, the host,
when I look at you, you look like someone I used to know.
Another host,
the host of a show I loved, but when I see your reflection...
You see me for who I truly am, what I truly am, just as you see yourselves for who you truly are.
Wait, you were that guy. There was a scandal. Years after our movies, I remember. You were famous,
infamous, a serial killer, a snuff movie maker.
They said you were immortal, some kind of demon.
I think you see the truth of that in our reflections.
I recognize him too.
And yet, I don't feel afraid.
Do you, Lana?
No, and the fog is clearing.
I'm old.
I was in bed.
There was the beeping of a hospital monitor.
Someone held my hand.
A daughter?
No, a granddaughter, a great-granddaughter.
And then...
And then you were here.
I remember others like me.
Old men and women.
A one-hundredth birthday celebration.
Excitement.
A nurse holding out a cake.
I went to blow out the candles.
Pain in my heart.
We're dead, aren't we?
This is the end, isn't it?
You are, Lana Branning, Carruthers, Smythington, and Rickery Breen.
You all died last night.
Breen fell down the stairs and died alone.
His carer found him the next day.
Christ, he was a dick, but he didn't deserve that.
Do any of us deserve death or life?
So, what is this?
Why are we here?
Why you?
What was tonight all about?
It was your final wish for all three of you,
to relive the moments that defined your legacy,
and to believe, if just for a moment, your final wishes.
Lana, you wish to believe yourself to still be a Hollywood starlet.
Carruthers, you wish to have had the career you deserved,
the awards, the accolades,
but most importantly to be able to tell the truth.
Breen just chose to be in the spotlight.
Even the moment where he stormed out of the interview,
that was part of his wish fulfillment.
But my movie was trashy, silly, critically panned.
In mine. I'm proud of it, but I never got credit for most of my work.
Does it matter?
Does any of that matter?
You, they meant something to you.
This was for you, and you only.
And maybe, in the future or the past, tonight's show will be viewed,
and people will understand.
Something doesn't have to be high-brow to bring joy.
Something doesn't have to be good to deserve pride.
Nothing is for everyone, and everything is for someone.
It's okay if people hated your work.
the audience have the right to pan it loudly and vocally if they wish.
And it's okay if critics loved it,
even if they had no idea you made it.
At the end, at least, it's all okay.
We get this one experience that's for us and only us.
It's time to go, isn't it?
Yes, towards the light.
And what lies beyond?
Nobody knows.
I guess you'll find.
out when you get there. Maybe something, maybe nothing. But there's always a door, and there's
always a light, and there's always a legacy left behind. What about Breen? He stormed off. What
became of him? Oh, he'll be waiting. He hasn't lost his chance. This is just how it was all
meant to go. As must we. Are you coming with us?
Me? No, my dear. I'm afraid not. Like you.
You said. They said I was some kind of demon. They were right. I thought I was immortal, that I could
continue doing what I did forever. But I flew too close to the sun. This is me now. I play host.
You three may be the last of the gang to die, but there'll be other gangs, other legacies, other
wishes. It is my penance, I'm afraid, to guide you to where you need to go and then
and wait for the next arrivals.
I think I'm ready.
Me too.
Then we shall depart.
And now I return to the set
and await our next guests.
I hope you've enjoyed tonight's show.
No matter how you feel about someone's legacy,
it is theirs.
And just as it is their right
to retain that legacy,
it's your right to judge it as you see fit.
Perhaps one day I too shall be seen fit to be judged
To pass through these doors that once again closed to me
But for now I return to my seat to the screen to wait
So farewell dear viewers
And I urge you this
Brace yourselves
Because one day it shall be you joining me
I look forward to seeing you then
Good night.
As the lights come back on, our stories come to an end.
Please remember to be kind and rewind.
And visit the no-sleeppodcast.com for show notes
and more details about the people who bring you this production.
And on their behalf, we thank you for being a supportive, sleepless member.
This audio production is copyright 2019 by Creative Reason Media,
Inc. All rights reserved. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication
or reproduction of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media
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