Terror at Blood Fart Lake (2009) - full transcript

(funky music)

(muffled shouting)

- Left.

Your third left, bitch.

No, no, no.

Left.

Right.

No, not right.

Your third left.

Ah no, no, no, no.

It's square.



You're a good friend, baby.

No, no.

Look everything's gonna
be square as a rhombus,

as long as you bring
Hambone some of those new

sweet Frat Rags designs.

That's right.

Now, if Hambone happen to be in town

enjoyin' the townspeople.

Or if Hambone happen to be out on

Hambone Lake enjoyin' Hambone's lake,

then you need to be sure to just find

that groundskeeper.

He let you in you.

He'll hook it up right sweet.



That's right.

Hambone hooked it up.

He got you a full order full of all kinds

of delicious goodies.

You're gonna be hooked up

all for the weekend.

That's right, baby.

We square.

We square.

That's right, baby.

I'll see you soon.

Hambone love you.

And Hambone love your friends, too.

(sighs loudly)

Life is good for Hambone.

Hambone got this sweet pad
out here on Blood Fart Lake.

Hambone got a boat.

Hambone gonna enjoy life on his sweet dock

that Hambone own.

I don't think life ever
been this good for Hambone.

And I don't think life ever
gonna be this good for Hambone.

Hambone got the ladies.

Hambone got the nine foot dick.

That's right.

(funky rap music)

Woohoo.

Life is good, people.

Hambone gonna remove Hambone shoes.

Hambone.

That right.

Hambone reasonably confident

that Hambone gonna live forever.

Shit.

("Chasing Down The Sunset")

♪ I remember the way the we used to be ♪

♪ Infinite life, and infinite love ♪

♪ I remember the way it was, could do ♪

♪ No ♪

♪ I remember the promises to me ♪

♪ Infinite lies, and selfish disguise ♪

♪ I remember the way it was, could do ♪

♪ No wrong ♪

♪ Once, a small mistake ♪

♪ I regret that we made ♪

♪ Take it back, take it back now ♪

♪ Oh baby, I cant stay ♪

(wet farting)

♪ Oh baby, I can't stay ♪

♪ The tide has turned,
we'll never make it ♪

♪ Our bridges burned,
no point to fake it ♪

(music fades)

(car driving on gravel)

(all shouting) No way.

- Ah cripes.

(car door slams)

Whose job was it to fill this beast?

- What do you mean, boy scout?

(tapping car)

We out of fuel?

- What the fuck?

- Snake, did you put the
whole 30 dollars I gave you

in the tank?

- All right.

- Snake.

- I put, like, five bucks in

and then I spent the rest on munchies

and, uh, the sweet

Bill and Ted's, like, tape.

- You fucking moron.

(Snake groans)

- Well guess what?

You're pushing this thing the rest

of the way to the cottage.

- (groans loudly) No way!

(laughing loudly)

- You mook.

Look at you doin' grunt work on vacation.

What a spazz.

- Yeah?

Well you can help him.

- [Zebes] No way.

- What?

I didn't fuck up.

Oh this is bullshit.

I don't even know what I'm supposed to be

doin' here.

(everyone talking)

(dramatic springing)
(all shouting)

- That shit was funny back there.

Didja-

(girl cries out)

D'ya think it was funny?

Huh?

- No.

- Did I look like some
cryin' Indian to you?

- You don't look half the at all.

- You can't throw garbage at people

who are just walkin' by
mindin' their own business.

I'm Leo Dechampa.

And I'll blast ass if anyone
tries to step on my toes.

How 'boutcha?

- Sorry guy, but

it was these three guys back here.

You can do whatever you
want to those three stooges.

(all gasping)

So what is all this?

You on some wacky weekend sex adventure

before your so-called schoolin' starts

up again?

One last hoorah before you go back and

make somethin' of yourselves?

- Well, sort of.

Our friend owns a cottage
up on Blood Fart Lake and

he invited us up there to just hang out

and chillax, you know?

- Blood Fart Lake?

Well, it's up the road just a little bit.

Plus,

that place is cursed.

- Really?

- Oh craps, a ghost!

Girl, you got more makeup
on than Ronald Mcdonald.

You sure the dead wants to be seen with

someone as ridiculous-lookin' as yourself?

- I am the dead.

I walk the earth breathing,

yet not breathing.

In between real and unreal.

I am eternal.

(inhales deeply)

- Wicked ghoulish, right?

That's why I always date gothic chicks.

'Cause they have low
self-esteem to be taken

advantage of my super
powerful popularness.

(laughs) Yeah, yo way, yo.

- I got three dead family members locked

in my shanty at home, kids.

Takes a lot to scare old Leo.

They speak to me.

- Well listen, Leo,

we're sorry about throwing
that garbage at you

back in the road

but we need to get some gas and get

to the cottage before nightfall.

- Considering you're all just a bunch of

piss ants enjoying one last party weekend

before your schoolin' starts,

I'm gonna let that one slide.

And you know what?

Good old Leo's gonna do you one better.

I'm gonna fill up your gas tank for ya.

For free.

Blood Fart Lake's still a good
half day drive up that road.

- Really Mr. Dechamp?

That would be awesome.

Is there anything else we can do for you?

- Oh I told you not to worry about it.

'Sides you kids are gonna have your

hands full up at Blood Fart Lake.

You know, it's cursed and all.

- You didn't exactly tell us
why it's cursed, soldier boy.

Spill it toot sweet
before you take a powder.

- The whole fuckin' place is cursed,

to tell you the truth.

It all happened about 20 years ago

over at the Van Brunt farm.

You see, there was a little boy.

His name was Jimmy.

He was a retard.

He liked to play in
the cornfield at night.

Well one day these punks,

well they hated Jimmy.

They don't like retards up here.

I hate 'em.

Well, anyway, they set
fire to the cornfield.

It burned the whole bitch down.

It came down like acid rain.

Poor old Jimmy ran right up the scarecrow.

Burned alive to a big old crispin'

(giggles)

Anyways, the town say the scarecrow

still walks these lands.

Some say they see him by the lake.

Many have turned up missin'.

Oh.

Ghoulish.

- Can I just say that that story alone

gave me, like, five orgasms?

I am so wet right now.

We have to get to that cottage, Ben.

Like, now.

- (sighing) All filled up.

Now that's just legend.

Legends ain't real.

Right, kids?

Farts.

Yeah.

Now get the hell out of my sight.

Go get stoned or pwned
or boned or whatever

it is you kids do these days.

So glad I'm sterile.

- (all) Thanks, Leo.

- Thank you, sir.

(running footsteps)

(car doors opening)

(car doors slamming)

(rock music)

♪ You sang the songs ♪

♪ I danced at every single show ♪

♪ And those warm receptions ♪

♪ Were the best I'd ever known ♪

♪ Somewhere along the line ♪

♪ It all became contrived ♪

♪ The conversations in the streets ♪

♪ They all said this music died. ♪

(door slams)

- Well this is it guys.

Hopefully Hambone's inside.

Somewhere.

- Oh dear God, I just had a gloom orgasm.

Look at this place.

Can you hear it, friends?

The energy.

The spirits in this dominion.

Enter me.

- I can make a great film here.

Mmm.

- What the hell is this?

- What what what?

(whines)

- Who the hell are you?

- Well who the hell are you dudes comin'

in here actin' like you're gonna party

and make with the merriment?

- But Hambone said-

- But but but Hambone says.

Does it look like I
give a rat's pocket comb

what Hambone says?

I'm the weekend cleanser of this place.

And I could get into serious trouble if

you husky nailed whales
frigg with this joint.

Now get this party out of my domicile.

Scoot.

- Dude.

Fuckin' a.

- I'm just joshin' you.

(giggles)

Get those tight little groins back here.

- What?

(Caspian giggling)

- Yeah.

Just pulling your butts.

Shitting in your cereal.

You know.

- So you are expecting us?

- Oh sure.

Hambone set it all up for you.

I'm just the keeper while he's away.

I could use the company.

As long as you don't mind me stickin'

around your persons for a little

post-high school debauchery and sextacy?

You kids can totally rock this joint for

the weekend.

- Ah.

So you were acting like you were going to

throw us out, eh?

Huh.

Well done, trickster.

I could feel the emotions.

What's your name squirelly dude-os?

- Ah.

Allow me to introduce myself.

I am

(foreboding music)

Caspian.

(drum crash)

And welcome to my nightmare.

(high pitched laughing)

Oh, fuck, I do have fun don't I, kids?

- So you know Hambone then?

- Know him?

I taught him everything he knows.

- Do you know the Dark Arts
and listen to Evanescence?

(Sally hissing)

- Evanescence?

Are you kidding me?

There is only one dark fantasy-inspired

female front metal band.

And that is Nightwish.

How smooth is that, sister?

- Nightwish?

- Hey.

I think you just found

your new fuck friend, eh Meredith?

- It's Sally, Zebes.

Remember?

Sally.

- Sally, Suzie.

Meredith.

Whatever. Fuckin' loopy gash.

- Well, let me give you swingers a tour.

- You can choose where you want to sleep

and make the party room.

I'm so glad you hombres are here.

- What the fuck are those?

(dramatic music)

(thighs throbbing)

- Oh.

You mean my Popeye calves.

I like to think of them
as Heaven's soldiers.

He left me as big as a gumdrop in the

scrotal pouch department,

but gave me these fuckin'
sexual predators right here.

You have no idea how much cum I have

packed in these bad mammo jamos.

- Are you angry?

Are they gonna turn

green or some shit?

'Cause you's a goddamn mutant.

Looks like somebody put a
couple of breast implants-

- So, gang,

you wanna get settled in?

- Uh, Caspian you want to
show us what's up inside?

- Super fresh.

Lead the way, gang.

And after you're all packed in,

we'll have a little powwow together

so we can get to know each other.

- Yeah.

- Sound like a plan?

Come here.

Is the big girls yours, my man?

- Yeah.

Meredith- I mean, uh, Sally.

Little fuckin'- yeah I
guess that thing's mine.

Why?

- Right on, gringo.

She's a cybertronian violation
of having excessive bootay.

- Yeah.

- Make a dead man weep.

Make a hobo fuck a trash can, eh?

- (laughing) Yeah, you know it, Creepy.

You know it.

- Gimme some.

Oh, bop it.
- Fuckin' weird.

- [Leo] Shit!

Fuckin' technology.

(tools clanging)

Robots

drivin' cars.

Robots, that's what they are.

They're all robots.

This is why I don't work on cars

'cause they don't work.

I hate 'em.

Too many fuckin' problems.
(dramatic music)

Problems.

Besides, you've given me more

problems.

(footsteps approaching)

Shit.

Listen, guy, we gotta talk.

Ya ain't workin' for me.

(defeated sobbing)

(boinging)

Holy blowjob.

- Hey, scumbag.

You wouldn't happen to know where

the bus stop is around here, would ya?

(Leo growls)

- (coughing) Mm, you talkin' to me?

- Of course, you dirty shit.

I gotta get to Canandaigua,
New York as soon as I can.

- Well shit, girl.

The next bus to Canadaigua ain't
'til seven o'clock tonight.

- (sighing) For serious?

Shit.

What're we gonna do now, turd face?

(Leo grunts)

- By God, woman.

You got me workin' up the blackest sweat.

You flirtin' with me?

- Duh.

Of course I'm flirting with you.

I, uh, find you pretty
repugnant, actually.

- Well if repugnant means
what I think it means,

you must think I'm fuckin'
Brad Pitt or somethin'.

Well you know what, little lady, I'm gonna

do you one better.

I'm gonna take you to Canadaigua myself.

- Oh my God, you would do that for me?

- Well, Miss Purdy Pussycat,

if you keep sweet talkin' me

the way you doin' right now-

and you do do it good-

Well then, I would eat shit

and poop out diamonds with brownie

mixture all over it all over your midriff.

Just for you.

- God, I would so be
in your debt if you can

do this for me...

Greasy, filthy, transient.

What's your name?

- It's Leo.

Leo Dechampa.

- Well Leo Dechampa,

take me with you.

- Well step into my chariot, princess.

(Leo chuckling)

I haven't strangled me
a whore in a coon's age.

(Leo laughing maliciously)

(loud rock music)
(car doors slamming)

(tires screeching)

(fingers snapping)

- So.

(fingers snapping)

Yay, gang.

Now that we have all
the rooms shanked out,

why don't we get to know each other a

little bit better?

Do a little roll call.

Go around the room,

say a little somethin'
about yourselves, eh?

(scoffing)

- Lame.

- Well why don't you go first
then, Mr. Grinch Grouch?

Get it out of the way.

- Bah.

Name's Zebes and I'm from New Jersey.

Home of the boss.

- Ah, home of the boss.

I love Dancing In The Dark.

Makes me feel all, woo, squishy.

- Wha-?

Later for you, man.

There's only one boss
from the five boroughs

and it ain't Springsteen.

Tony freakin' Danza's
the boss, my friends,

and none of you forget about it.

Shit.

Yeah.

- Danza?

I was more partial to Mona.

That walking skeletoon
had a pair of moundly

hoots that would make
even the youngest child

pop a boner.

One bag of bones

I wouldn't mind bossin', eh fellas?

(giggling)

(clock ticking)

(upbeat music)

- Well, you sort of know me.

I'm Ben.

Lifelong horror fan.

I also own my own t-shirt
company, Fright Rags.

- Ooh.

Horror films, eh?

Not a big fan of spooks and gore, myself.

But a mellow scare, now and then,

is good for the heart, I think.

Something like "Stepmonster".

Now there's a good movie.

Gets my juices flowin'.

One for the fright books, eh, my man?

- Um, yeah.

Classic.

- Caspian.

- Meredith, is it?

- It's Sally.

I legally changed my name to give homage

to my fave character from

Tim Burton's "The Nightmare
Before Christmas".

I believe that mellow evil

is the one and true human emotion.

It's pure and untapped.

After reading

Glenn Danzig's book,

"Shecky The Horror Punk Warrior
Inside Your Black Heart"-

- (all) Whoa.

- [Sally] I truly found death in life.

Finding that morbid angel within my soul

has made me a stronger,
more stable person.

I hardly even cut my labia anymore.

When I break wind,

each fart is a message to
Robert Smith's brainwaves

telling him that his minions
care more than he knows.

- You think you're dark?

I poop from my dick tip.

And you, Mr. Vagabond-No-Way-Man.

Who might you be?

- I'm Snake.

Fuckin' a.

- And?

- Uh.

All right.

- A real scholar in our midst, I see.

- Forget about these chuckleheads.

Take a whiff off of my brilliant frame.

- Oh.

I like you.

- Oh and you better remember
this face, by golly,

for I am...

Gwendolyn Bouvier.

Screen star.

- Oh, so you wanna be in movies?

- Wanna be?

That's for wannabees, kid.

I am in pictures.

Why, have you ever seen a little film

called "Swamp Sex Robots"?

- No.

- Eh?

It was huge in Canada, I tell you, huge.

Why it was bigger than "Freddy
Got Fingered" over there.

- No.

- Loopy as fucks, I tells ya.

- As far as I'm concerned
the only good thing out

of Canada is Toblerone.

- Bah.

You lowbrows wouldn't know it, I suppose.

It was an art house gem
directed by my mother.

Hmm.

Interesting story about that day.

My mother raised me in
a commune with other

actors.

Sexed her way to the top.

Why, I could tell you stories about three

ways twixt her JFK and James Earl Jones.

- Those maniacs are going to
be on my to-do list, my lady.

- Oh ha chachachacha.

(both singing out of key)

- Whoa.

Boobs.

(sexy music)

- Caspian.

Who is that?

- Oh.

You mean slutty mctrampwhore?

That's Ashley Sawyer.

She's the girl next door.

- Has she always been here?

(breathing heavily)

Why didn't Hambone tell me about her?

Maybe Hambone's gay,

did you ever think of that?

I mean,

she's all right.

Not exactly fuck-able by any
stretch of the multiverse.

She's kinds creepy, if
you know what I mean.

- I've just gotta meet her.

(sniffing deeply)

- Oh, Ben.

Yet another skirt for me to
push my violatin' self onto.

This might be a pretty well
worth weekend, after all.

Know what I'm sayin'?

(slapping counter)

- Hey, Zebes.
(Zebes groans)

- I'm the only tramp

you're gonna be making moist this weekend.

Remember.

I own your soul.

We're blood mates until
Peter Steele calls us home.

- Yeah you own my soul, blood mates, uh.

So, anyone like dark in ya?

(slaps counter) Hey.

Yo, back for the attack, yo.

(water splashing)

(foreboding music)

- Can I help you?

- Water must be cold, uh?

- And why is that?

- Oh, um,

'cause your nipples they look like

they're, uh,

about ready to attack.

(apple crunches)

- Wow.

I just met you and you're already

cracking titty jokes.

Not a good first impression.

- Yeah that was, uh,

kind of lame.

- My friend, Hambone,

invited us up here to the
cottage for the weekend.

You know.

I'm Ben.

- Ashley.

- I know.

Caspian told us.

Ashley Sawyer.

Beautiful.

Bone throbbing.

Sexy.

- Up here, skeazix.

(belching)

- Yeah.

Sorry about that.

So do you live up here at the lake or- ?

- No, I'm just here for the summer.

Cottage sitting for a friend.

Um so, Caspian told you all about me?

- Yeah.

- Well, that's odd because I haven't

had the chance to introduce
myself to him yet.

- Well, he is a little creepy.

- Ya think?

- Well, listen, I think
we got off on, like, the

wrong flipper um...

So you know, we're gonna be having an

explosive bacchanalia later,

if you care to join us.

You're not busy or anything.

- Maybe, but I'm not quite sure if you can

handle how cool I am.

- (mumbling) That's a
bold statement, 'cause

I think I'm pretty cool, you know.

- Well maybe I'll stop by then,

cool Ben.

(loud farting)

- [Ben] Are you okay?

- Oh yeah, yeah.

I just,

I shit my swimsuit.

So, later.

- What a woman.

- So my fine Nubian princess.

I may call you Nubian, right?

- Do I look Nubian to you?

- Well, to tell you the truth,

I don't know what Nubian means, per se.

So Miss pretty, sweet somethin' or other.

Why are you going to Canadaigua, anyway?

You got some sweet man to come home to?

Give him a big blow job?

- Actually, I need to
get to Blood Fart Lake.

Are you familiar with that?

- What did you just say?

- Are you familiar with-

- No!

Right before that.

- Blood Fart Lake.

- That's what I thought my
brain thought you said, bitch.

(tires crunching)

(horn beeps)

- What the hell are you doing, Leo?

- I can't let you go to
that place, miss lady girl.

It's doomed.

- What?

- It's got a death curse on it.

You don't understand.

I once heard that the reason
Def Leppard's drummer's

only got one arm is 'cause of that place.

Although, sometimes, I doubt
the validity of that tale.

- Well look, I'm headed
for an early grave then

'cause Blood Fart Lake is where I'm goin'.

Now turn this car on and kick
out the motherfuckin' jams.

- What?

Didn't you just hear me
proclaim my frightened rant?

I said

no.

- Turn on the motherfuckin' car

and hit the motherfuckin'
pedal to the metal.

- I'm sorry but I shain't go no further.

- Okay then, Leo.

(slapping)

(Leo shouting)

- Miss Ambrosia.

Oh, I fell on my Weird Al tape.

Goddammit.

- See you later, pussy face.

Thanks for the ride.

Oh, and here's a pearl of wisdom

to take with you on your personal journey.

(farts loudly)

- Harsh.

(car door slams)

- Sorry, dude.

I don't need no wet vag
foggin' up my personal destiny.

(engine starting)

- But, Thunder.

What is your destiny?

- Revenge.

You shall live and be well.

(car peeling out)

- Revenge?

Oh, what the hell does that even mean?

Oh,

damn it.

Leo, you really are a pussy face.

How could you let her go like that?

(sighs heavily)

Oh, shit on a shingle.

I can't let her get all
doomed up like that.

I'm comin', girl.

And I'm bringing Smith. (smacks)

And Winston. (smacks)

As back up.

(grunting shouts)

(funky rock music)

- This music brings my
twice-blackened heart back

to a deep, vibrant red.

- A skylight.

A whirlpool.

A half a pound of butter.

My God,

I'm in heaven.

♪ What's goin' on ♪

♪ A new girl ♪

♪ What's goin' on ♪

- Man, now that's an
extreme tune right there.

Sometimes I think about Kip Winger

covering that tune and I actually cry.

I'm being dead ass serious here.

I openly cry thinking about
Winger and Nuke 'em High.

- The class of Nuke 'em
High would have been

way better if there had been

some sort of suicide trio of women.

Who vowed to have sex with Satan,

once they re-entered the gates of Hell.

- Say, wasn't Johnny Depp in that?

- No, it was Ron Jeremy, right?

- No.

Ron Jeremy was in part three,

but his scene was cut.

- I could have swore that was Johnny Depp.

- Maybe you're thinking of Richard Grieco.

- Who the fuck is Richard Grieco?

- He's the poor man's Johnny Depp.

- I thought Skeet Ulrich was
the poor man's Johnny Depp.

- Fuck no.

Skeet Ulrich is the poor
man's Henry Winkler.

- Then who's the poor man's Skeet Ulrich?

- Billy Garberina.

- No Billy Garberina's
the poor man's Jim Carrey.

Hey!

(drum beat)

- Come on in, Ben-o,
the water's wonderful.

(upbeat music)
- Well all right!

Woo!

(Gwen shrieks)
(water splashing)

- So, Ben, honey.

When are you gonna quit the t-shirt biz

and start making your own motion pictures?

- Well, I want to,
Gwen, I just haven't had

the artistic push I've been looking for.

Well, like I got this movie I've

been workin' on in my head

called Brutal Postman.

It's about a guy who blames

all his problems in life on the size of

his small genitalia.

So, in order to compensate for his nether

region misfortune,

he slaughters every ex-girlfriend he's

ever had

that has lied to him about
the size of his meat.

- Why, that sounds like
a gold picture to me.

It could make-

Oh, at least, one million smackaroos in

the international box office.

Why, it could be bigger
than Leonard Part 6.

- Have you even seen
parts one through five?

- Have I seen them?

My mother directed those pictures

but said they were far too
cinematic for the cinema.

She took them down to the Cosby
studio for the Cosby show,

put them in the middle of the
Huxtable's living room floor,

squatted over them

and heaped period discharge
all over those pictures,

ruining them for all time.

- What?

Bullshit.

- Hand to God, I tells ya.

I was there on the next sound stage.

I was filming a pilot for a show called

"Uh Oh Oreo".

About two black men that adopt a

streetwise orphan girl.

A little white girl, you see.

Who brings unity into
their hearts with her

quirky, yet lovable fashion
sense and colorful language.

- Wha-?

- Mmm.

Starring Sydney Poitier and LeVar Burton.

Huh.

Guess who was the streetwise orphan?

- You?

- You're a bright one, Ben-o.

T'was me.

But forget everything I just said and

watch me act my way out of this paper bag.

(bag crinkles)

- Hi, Ben.

(footsteps thudding)

- Ashley what are you doing here?

- Oh, water must be cold, huh?

- Why do you say that?

- Because your dick is as
small as Billy Garberina's.

Oh.

- Yeah, I deserve that.

Well, hey, listen this is my friend Gwen.

- Aren't you Gwen Bouvier
from "Swamp Sex Robots"?

- Ah!

A fan, I see.

Ha.

Why yes, lovely.

'Tis I, the one and only.

Well, it's always lovely to
meet a beautiful young fan

as yourself but I gotta go.

I gotta have my date with the octopus

and tappity dance underwater.

Woo!

(water splashing)

(muffled speaking)

(speaking gibberish)

(door shutting)

- Hey, new girl.

I think your tits are ready for me.

You like Bon Jovi? (laughs)

- Ashley, this is Zebes.

- I don't know about you

but I'm feelin' a real deep connection

between your girly parts
and my manly parts.

- And I'm Sally.

His girlfriend.

- So, is this an act or
is he always like this?

- Sweetheart, isn't he?

He's my dark knight and
I'm his fallen angel.

I know he comes on strong

but believe me, "girl next door",

you couldn't handle his passion.

- I'm pretty sure I couldn't handle him.

- All right.

- This is Snake.

- Why do they call you Snake?

- Fuck you.

- And this is our host, Caspian.

He's Hambone's friend and handyman.

- Hi, Caspian.

Um, so I got in a few nights ago,

but I didn't wanna bother you

'cause you were doin' a
lot of work and everything.

Um, apparently you already know me?

- Yes,

Ashley Sawyer.

I make it a point to
know all the residents

around my boss's summer surroundings.

Would hate to have no-goodniks
upset his tranquility

when he gets here.

Wouldn't we?

- One does hate to upset tranquility.

- Yeah, so is it cool if she stays for the

eats and the tomfoolery, the night?

- Of course, any friend of yours Ben is...

A friend of yours.

Gwen, honey child, grub's on.

(dramatic music)

(waves crashing)

(drum crash)

- Yay, gang.

I just wanna thank you all

for letting me be a
part of your good times.

- (all together) Aw.

- Thank you, Caspian.

Why, you could have just
kicked us out on our keisters.

Buying us a one-way
ticket back to ugly town.

- Yeah.

Thank you, Caspian.

You're really cool and

it means a lot on a deep, emotional level.

And I'm not talking figuratively.

I'm talking literally here.

Deep pools of emotion right here.

- Yes.

Thanks, Sally,

but it was no problem.

Hambone set it all in motion.

I was just here to execute him.

It-

It just gets really lonely here, guys.

You feel me, dogs?

- Fuckin' a.

- So here's what I'm going to do.

I just so happen to have
a movie projector upstairs

that I watch my porno snuff
films on from time to time.

And, over the years, I have been lucky

enough to collect the world's largest 35

millimeter collection

of the Ernest P. Worrel films.

So, ho ho.

- You're not sayin' what I
think you're sayin', are you?

- Yup.

Ernest marathon, anyone?

(all cheering)

"Ernest Goes To Camp",

"Ernest Saves Christmas",

"Ernest Scared Stupid",

"Ernest Goes To Jail",

and my favorite "Ernest T-bags Vern".

(Gwen clapping)

- Ah, bravo!
- [Zebes] I like that one,

personally.

Yeah, I do. I do.

- So, eat up.

I gotta go drop some bowel
fungus off in the turlet.

I'll be back in two shakes

of a dead horse dingleberry, y'all.

- Oh.

Wait.

On second scratch.

How about Ernest on tomorrow night?

(all protesting)

- No, no, no, no, no.

Tonight,

we tell ghost stories. (chuckling)

(everyone chattering)

- All right.

- I know (indistinct)

Oh me too.

Yo, that creepy dude.

He's all right in my book.

(laughing loudly)

Hey.

You know, this chip is pretty salty.

Like my dick.

(explosive laughter)

(everyone carrying on)

- [Disembodied Voice] Van Brunt.

Brunt.

Brunt.

Brunt.

- No, no no no.

Wait.

No, no, wait.

It gets even scarier, right?

So, this mook comes up to me

and asks me for a remote control.

You know, one of those ones that

control the universe.

So, I was like, "Yeah, I'll give you a

remote control for five bucks."

So I'm thinkin'-
- [Gwen] Five dollars?

- He's gonna says, "No."

Right?

Right.

But he says, "Yes."

So five bucks richer.

I give him a remote I stole
from my mother's house.

And to make a long dick short.

There aren't even any batteries in.

So fuckin' sweet.

All right.

I know. What a dick, right?

Pretty scary, right?

Well, I guess it was
more funny than scary.

But, uh, any you guys
like the band Cinderella?

- So Caspian,

do you know anything about
this Jimmy Van Brunt crap?

- That's the retarded
scarecrow killer, right?

That around here?

- [Zebes] Scarecrow?

- Oh now you've done it, friends.

I know all about the legend of poor old

Jimmy Van Brunt.

- [Gwen] Wha-?

Ah, that wacky redneckian garbage peddler

told us a bit about it
back on the stretch.

Said this place is cursed.

I say it'd make a great motion picture.

- I believe it is cursed, Gwen.

Cursed with the foul stench
of burning flesh and straw.

Now, I don't know what some crazy redneck

told you but this is how it all went down.

You see young Jimmy
wasn't a very bright boy.

He would often spend his days playing

in his father's cornfield.

He was searching for a wormhole that

would teleport him to another dimension,

where he could live as a combination of

Jason Priestley, Triple
H and David Copperfield.

- Did he find the wormhole
and live his dream?

- Um.

He wasn't very bright.

The local cool kids were always picking

on young Jimmy for
living in another world.

One day, he was out in the field searching

for the portal to the other dimensions.

Well, those punks entered the fields and

started lighting fire crackies

to scare the bejesus out of young Jimmy.

- Savages.

- Ha. Sounds like a freakin' blast.

- Sounds like a fuckin' a.

- It does.

- One of the giant-sized bottle rockets

exploded into flames,

lighting the field on fire.

Young Jimmy, not being so bright,

shimmied up a scarecrow pole

and hid in the suit,

thinking it would protect
him from the danger.

Little did he know, that
it sealed his fate forever.

For once inside, the
flames engulfed the straw

and sent him into a spazzing
fit of burning anguish.

- [Gwen] Ah.

- Shivvies, huh?

Well those fucking punk
kids just ran away.

Leaving poor roasting Jimmy for dead.

Fuckers.

- So, what happened?

- Well, some people say that
young Jimmy died that night.

And soon after his old daddy died of-

Ouch.

Heartache.

But others say that
Jimmy survived the fire

and killed his father for
being a lazy drunk on the couch

and not coming to his rescue.

And from there on, went a killing spree

of all the punks who taunted
and scarred him for life.

But, still, around the town people talk

about how they see the scarecrow walking

the lake at night.

In the place that holds his soul

forever.

And ever.

And ever.

- Well, what do you believe, Caspian?

- Well, I believe it's a
big load of bull sperm,

if you want my opinion.

But it makes for one hell
of a story, don't you agree?

- Riveting, I tells ya, it was riveting.

(snapping fingers)

I'm gonna call my agent right now.

See if we can't make this a gold picture.

Beep, boop, beep.

Hello, Mommy?

This is superstar number one.

I need a movie made pronto.

Yeah, listen.

It's a slasher flick starring
me, Adrienne Barbeau,

and Lou Ferrigno as the killer.

We'll call it, "Death,
Thy Name Is Scarecrow."

Yeah.

A real art house gem.

(yawning loudly)

- Well gang I'm pippity pooped.

Gotta go jack off and hit the sack.

(everyone groaning)

Oh you kids flatter me you, really do,

but I gotta gets my booty sleep.

Tomorrow's another day.

But enjoy the night

and don't do anything I wouldn't do.

- Like what?

- It's just an expression, Zebes.

- No. Fuck that.

I want answers.

What wouldn't you do?

- Okay.

I guess I wouldn't poop in my hands

and use it to masturbate with.

So don't do that.

- Eh.

Cripes, man, I wouldn't do that.

- Well then, there you go.

Anyway, gang.

Tata.

(screaming shrilly)

- So, did you have a good
time tonight, Ashley?

- (scoffing) No.

Not really.

- Hey wait.

Don't you wanna stick around

and watch "The Burning" or
"Thrashin'" or somethin'?

- Uh, you know, we'll watch
"The Burning" next year, okay?

But, tomorrow.

"Thrashin'"?

- Okay.

- Okay.

Night, guys.

- Hey, uh, dude, Ben man,

I'm gonna go chill on
the hammock and listen

to my Bill and Ted's tape.

If you wanna, like, sleep with me,

you know, it's cool.

I, too, know how hard it
is not to be gettin' laid.

- Are you asking me to fuck you?

- Fuck me?

Fuck you.

(snoring)

- Hey, Gwen, do you wanna hang out and

watch some horror movies with me?

(whining note)

Why do I hang out with these people?

Ugh.

(paranormal music)

- Fuckin' a.

Yeah, fuckin a'

Fuckin' Panzer.

Kick your ass.

All right.

- [Disembodied Voice] Van Brunt.

Brunt.

Brunt.

Brunt.

- What?

Who shanked my tunages, man?

Zebes, if this is you, man,

I'm totally gonna sweat
all over you tomorrow.

It's not cool to jack man's tunes.

Fuckin' a.

No.

(dramatic music)

- Van Brunt.

Brunt.

Brunt.

- What?

Dude.

You're wearin' my phones, man.

Not all right.

- Oh.

Sorry I can't hear ya.

I'm jammin' out to some
Diamond Dave's solo stuff.

You should check this shit out, man.

It's awesome.

Yeah.

- Dude.

You sound fuckin' gay, man.

Fuckin' a!

- Uh oh.

The tape's all done.

Well, fiddlesticks.

I guess there's only one thing left to do.

- Uh, what's that?

- Thanks for the rock, my man.

Stay gold, Ponyboy.

- Oh cranberries!

There is something I forgot to do.

- What?

- This.
(heavy drum music)

- (screaming) No!

(maniacal laughing)

(slices fingers)

- Oh my God.

My digits!

Fuckin' lame.

Oh my God.

Look at the blood.

- Time for or d'oeuvres.

I prefer finger foods.

(crunching)

- (spitting) I don't
think I like the taste

of my fingers, man.

- No?

Well don't be such a fussy eater.

How about a side order of this?

(squishing)
(Snake screaming)

- I don't like corn in my eye.

(maniacal laughing)

- It's nice to know it fits.

(laughing)

- Fuckin

a.

(music fades)

- And the world is shy another douche bag.

One, two, three into the four.

Jimmy Van Brunt hack
slashin' at your door.

(farting loudly)

Corn really is in everything these days.

(echoing, maniacal laughter)

(soft piano music)

(leaves rustling)

- I hate you. (sobbing)

I hate you.

Stretch marks.

Stretch marks.

Footprints tear

on my skin.

Oh, God.

(knocking on door)

Come in. Come in.

- Caspian?

I-

- Pretty brave entering my
dominion, aren't you milady?

Approach me.

(soft piano music)
(door creaking)

- I...

I just wanted to...

- You're intrigued, aren't you?

You want to taste true passion.

- I do.

I feel you within me.

I wanna see what you see.

- I doubt your simpleton mind
could handle the sights I see.

- But, if you're willing to learn.

(chuckles knowingly)

- Oh, teach me, Caspian.

(Caspian moans)

I wanna fuck like the big
dipper fucks the galaxy.

- (moaning) I sense that about you.

I could smell the fuck
side dwelling within you.

I presume your hole wants
to be taught as well?

- Mine hole?

- Yes.

Your trench.

If you want to learn how
to truly fuck like I,

you must be consumed with fuck.

Mind, soul

and cunt.

- But I don't have any money
to to pay for this pizza.

You want me to give myself
to you wholeheartedly

and with no remorse?

- I can show you pleasures
of the likes which you've

never dreamed.

- Have you ever fucked pure,
uncut sex before, Ashley?

I mean

pure,

uncut sex.

- No.

- Being fucked by sex is like
Fleetwood Mac ejaculating

all over your insides.

Why, it's like being injected with the

world's strongest space
heroin and living through it.

In fact my desolate Jezebel,

I inject pure uncut Irish heroin

into my penile shroom
for maximum pleasure.

And you will feel the
sex in you when I'm done.

Oh yes.

- I don't know.

The good in me still struggles

with that sweet image of Ben.

Oh he's such a-

- Loser.

My plum 'tis engorged with the sweet hot

porridge of my forefathers and you dare

fucking refuse it?

All you have to do is grab onto my tits

and hold on.

(Caspian moans loudly)

♪ Cream cheese is made of me ♪

♪ Two parts, cream ♪

♪ Three parts, me ♪

- Caspian.

- Yes?

- Fuck me away from all this

death.

- Wait 'til you see what I do next.

(screaming)
(droning music)

- Ashley.

(breathing heavily)

(Gwen singing)
- Hey, yo.

How come you never do that for me?

- Coffee kids.

- Oh, delicious.

I'll have two.

- Yeah.

Good call.

(apples thudding)

- Whoa.
(Zebe laughing)

- Ah, there you are, you
whimsically-hung, lady killer.

(claps hands)
Breakfast is served.

- You okay, Ben?

Heard you screamin' in there.

Bad dreamies?

- Yeah.

Somethin' like that.

- Hey, Ben, I bet it was a

sexual conquest with that Ashley broad,

am I right?

I was dreamin' of her too, ya know.

(slapping)

- Hey, asshole.

- No, girl, it was a

three-way.

Yeah, you were in it too.

You know you're my second best girl.

Come on.

- Well, in that case.

Anyway, I had this dream where you were

rubbing Toblerone all over my asshole

and then at the last minute Tim Burton

pops out of it and steals the chocolate

from your hands.

And then scurries into my anal cavity.

It was so morbidly awesome.

Oh yeah.

And then out of nowhere,
my pussy started puking

and Danny Elfman music began to play.

It was Beetlejuice, I think.

I love that dream, come to think of it.

- Fuckin' gross ass twat.

I still love you, though.

- You wanna take a spooky walk
down some mysterious trail?

- Fuckin' listen to some Pat Benatar.

I might even hold your hand, girl.

Isn't he a dark prince?

- Let's do this.

(Gwen singing)
(clearing throat loudly)

- So, uh, any of you guys
seen Snake yet this morning?

- I haven't seen balls nor ass of him.

- Well, you know Snake.

He probably got bored and
hitched a ride back to town

to play with his panzer.

- Panzer?

Is that a slang word for dick? (giggles)

- No, honey, it's a tank.

He likes to ride it

around his backyard screaming,

"Fuckin' a!"

And,

"ALL right!"

He's a weird bird, that Snake.

But not as weird as the
night that I spent on a

boat with screen legend

Mickey Rooney.

- Oh no.

- The guy used to rub
his nuts all over new

starlets in the biz.

Had elephantitus, you know.

How he hid 'em for screen
roles is beyond me.

But kid, never let Mickey Rooney

rub you with his nuts.

♪ Raping kids all day long. ♪

- Oh, Gwen.

(laughing loudly)

What the hell is this?

It looks like some

kind of wild Indian.

- That wild Indian picture
happens to be stylin'.

You don't know what you're talking about.

- Okay.

So, I think I'm gonna go find Ashley,

so she can help me work on
some new t-shirt designs.

What's on your agenda for the day?

- Nothing.

(smacking counter)

- Oo!

Damn them enchiladas.

(mysterious music)

(car door slams)

(bugs chirping)

- 'Cause I saw that sign and it opened up

thine eyes,

I saw that sign.

Life's demandin'.

Without fuckin' understandin'.

(coughing)

Where the fuck am I?

Christ.

Think Leo's lost.

- Don't move, sucker.

- Industrial stapler.

- Leo, what the fuck?

- God damn, girl, you almost
ended my sensuous life.

What the hell you doin' out here?

- Fuck you.

What are you doing out here?

- Trick, I just couldn't let you come out

here alone.

I already had to warn some
punk ass kids about this place

and who knows what evil befell them?

Now, I wasn't about to let
some pussy go get cursed.

Uh-uh. Not on my watch.

- Kids?

You let kids come out here?

- Well, I wasn't about ready to stop them.

I mean they just wanted to have
one last fuck weekend before

the school started again.

- Shit.

I may already be too late.

Fuck.

- Girl, what the hell
you goin' on about there?

- You stupid, little turd hat.

- Those kids could sit off a
chain reaction that could bring

their pathetic lives to
a brutal and bloody end.

- So they are in danger?

But from what exactly?

The curse?

Jimmy Van Brunt?

Dragons?

Goddammit, woman, tell me.

- A demon.

(sputtering)

- Demons?

Demons ain't real, bitch.

But there was that sweet
Lombardo bible flick

that came out in the early 80s.

Amazing special effects.

(whipping)

- Take your clothes off.

- Excuse me?

- Don't think I haven't been noticing you

raping me with your eyes.

In this time of great fear
and powerful revenge-filled

adrenaline,

it is time for the warriors to step up

to the plate and lay out
some God damned pipe.

Are you a warrior, Leo?

Can you plow my pussy for
me to fully recharge my body

and get me ready for battle?

- Bitch.

I'm the greatest warrior that ever lived.

Feel.

My.

Power.

(angelic voices singing)

- This is my only chance to
save those kids, asshole.

So tear my shit proper.

- Got my stash all comin', girl.

You ever do gymnastics?

- Well I do fuck-nastics.

I'm all nimble and wily inside you.

I'm like a mongoose looking for nutrients.

I get inside your vag and
I find that sweet spot.

And sting ya with my dick poison.

Oh yeah.

- Skeet skeet.

Looks like rain.

(Leo moans)

- Cling tenaciously to my buttocks.

- Oh yeah, girl.

Oh, you're lickin' made my 'stache-

Now, get up.

You wanna fuck with me?

(Thunder moaning)

Oh I'm gonna fuck you, ya whore.

Ya whore.

Oh.

(Leo moans)

(Zebes singing badly)

(imitating guitar)

- You know what this trail needs?

Is some sweet Halloween decorations.

You know, really spooky it up a bit.

Make it look like one of those haunted

Halloween attractions.

- Are you, uh, talkin', Sally?

'Cause to be perfectly honest,

I was thinkin' about doin' you again.

- You are such a horn dog, Zebes.

- I know

- You wanna do me here?

- Right here?

Are you serious?

- Yeah.

Let's be kinky.

- Oh shit.

My balls just churned a little

and I got that chill up my spine

I get when my dick tip starts a-tinglin'.

Sally, you're the best.

- You got a rubber?

- Rubber?

Fuck, no.

Let's live life on the dark side.

Isn't that what you're all about?

- No rubber, no sex.

And I don't think poppin'
out a Zebes spawn is dark.

- What?

- Maybe a nightmare,

but not dark.

- Bitch.

- Get a rubber.

- You don't know.

Um.

Can't I just, uh, maybe kill a squirrel

and use that as a rubber?

- Oh wait.

Better yet, how 'bout we frottage?

You got a pretty big cunt nub,

we can rub our tips together

and make some frottage cheese, you know.

(chuckling gibberish)

- Ew, Zebes.

Just get a fuckin' rubber.

I'll wait here.

Get myself all moist for ya.

- All right.

Don't start without me, ha.

I wanted to frottage, though.

(Sally moaning)

- A little somethin' to tide me over until

he gets back.

(lips smacking)

(lustful growling)

(suspenseful music)

(sticks crackling)

(Zebe's singing)

- Hey.

Looks like Snake lost his
newly acquired cassette.

Finders keepers.

Losers suck.

(dramatic crash)

(gravel scraping)

Oh, let me see.

Oh Bill and Ted, I love those guys.

Coulda had me that cassette-

Ah!
(squishing)

Oh, dude, what the?

Ow, my dick is huge.

- Gives a new meaning to corn holing, eh?

Your digestive tract is amazing.

(blubbering)

- Jimmy Van Brunt, you
stuck me in my asshole.

What are you doin', eh?

Yo.

- Oh my.

Your crotch looks like a thick marinara

just waiting to be soaked
up by a hot Italian pasta.

Mmm yummy.

- Marinara?

That sounds kinda good right about now.

- Later for you.

You're about to swim with the fishes.

- Get-

Wait.

Van Brunt.

There's one thing I gotta know.

You like Bon Jovi?

- Bon Jovi blows.

- Wha-?

No.

(sobbing loudly)

- Now, what about that Goth Topic reject?

(Sally laughing)

- Oh, burn victims.

About time you got back.

I'm almost all dry here,
so you better pile in.

Zebes?

(loud gasping)

- Zebes?

Why, he had a little bit too much

of bad medicine.

And, as for you, it's time to change

trends there, Vampirella.

- What?

- I mean, really, the big
girl goth thing is so passe.

The skin and waif bones thing is the way

to hit the scene now, girlfriend.

Woohoo.

- Really?

(gravel crunching)

I- I was getting bored
of this trend, anyway.

- Well, you're in luck scenester.

Voila.

Who ordered the cottage cheese?

Suckah, suckah, suckah, suckah, suckah.

(vacuum whirring)

- No.

No.

No.

(squishing)

(Sally screaming)

- This job really sucks.

(laughing manically)

(Sally moaning)

(hose slurping)

- It's important to baste for

about five seconds per pound.

Are you ready for a
little reverse bulimia?

- I'm not even hungry.

(sobbing hysterically)

(hose slurping)

(choking)

(spitting)

- I loved you.

- Oh, I guess she couldn't
stomach the thin look.

Shoulda tried South Beach.

(machine ding)

(maniacal laughter)

(Leo screaming)

- Pancakes

on your face.
- Do it, Daddy.

- [Leo] Oh God.
- You greasy hog fucker.

Drench me in your-

(Leo screaming)
(Thunder moaning)

- Oh, shit.

Now that was battle fuckin'.

(Leo moans)

- It was good but I reject
the taste of your syrup.

- [Leo] What?

- A warrior woman must be purified

with only the finest nut
butter before battle.

And yours, my intellectually
challenged friend, is subpar.

- Wait one cotton pickin' minute here.

You sayin' my Jesus juice ain't
finger lickin' good, bitch?

Me?

Leo Dechampa.

- Well.

That is what I'm sayin', Leo Dechampa.

You got a big dick like a brotha, but

drinking your brew is like Schweppes

when I should be drinking Canada Dry.

- You're cold-blooded.

You got a phone?

I gotta call my uncle and tell him

about your bullshit.
(cork popping)

Thank you.

Wait a minute.

Who is this?

- (sighing)

It's my brother.

- What?

Your brother?

Now, I didn't see him
in that group of kids.

Is he in danger too?

- He's in a world of danger, Leo.

A whole shit pile of danger.

(Leo sputtering)

(cartoonish singing)

- What's a matter, Ben-o?

Your pretty peach ain't here?

- No.

I hope she didn't go home for good.

I was really diggin' that girl.

And no burning or thrashing.

- Mm. Ah, young love.

I remember when I was in love.

Must have been during The Great Depression

because all I remember eatin' was semen

from an NYC hobo on the corner

of Broadway and Nowheresville.

- Gwen, you know you're only 24, right?

- 24 in dog years, scooter.

24 in dog years.

(bell rings)

- Well, I'm working on
a new line of t-shirts

with the face of racist
horror-themed comedian,

Henry Couteau,

with one of his jokes underneath that says

"Dracula was a fag and them's the facts."

- Hmm.

Funny story about that Henry Couteau.

He's Portuguese.

(chuckling comically)

- Oh, hey, Gwen.

Real quick.

What do you think about an Ernest shirt

that says,

"Ernest Fucking Rules

Know What I Mean?"

Gwen?

Gwen?

Gwen?

Gwen?

Gwen?
(foreboding music)

Gwen?

What are you doing?
(instruments clatter)

- [Van Brunt] Surprise!
(baseball bat smacking)

- [Disembodied Voice] Van Brunt.

Brunt.

Brunt.

- Ashley.

Gwen.

What the fuck happened?

- I was going to ask you the same thing.

You kids okay?

- Caspian, we gotta get out of here now.

I think all that Jimmy
Van Brunt story is true.

Caspian, are you hearing me?

Untie us now.

Wait.

Why haven't you untied us yet?

Oh.

- Is it slowly coming together, Ben-Ben?

- Wait a tick.

You?

(foreboding music)

- Bingo for Ben-o.

How do you like my sinister smile?

Is it much different than my
normal happy-go-lucky smile?

I learned that from you, Gwen darling.

It's called acting.

- Well, you-

you fooled me, kid,

and that's hard to do.

I trained with the best of 'em

and, let me say, you certainly pulled off

an Oscar-winning performance.

Bravo, fruitcake.

- Qh it was nothing really.

Acting was in my blood.

I've had to act my whole life to get away

with some of the unspeakable things

I have done.

And I'm about to do.

- And what are you about to do?

- Watch you get slaughtered
for my own erotic enjoyment.

- What?

Kill us?

- But why?

- Because I'm fucking psycho.

That's why, nukka.

- Well,

I guess if there ever
was a motive to kill,

then that would be number one.

- Well, what about all our hombres?

(childish giggling)

- Ah, your friends.

About them...

(counter squealing)

I ate them.

And drank the bones.

They were delicious.

(both groaning disgustedly)

- Oh, fuck.

Gross.

- Heavens to murgatroyd.

- And they were just the appetizers.

You cocksuckers are the main course.

- And introducing your
chef for the evening,

Mr. Jimmy Van Brunt.

(Jimmy singing)

- Caspian's got me workin'.
- God. Please stop.

- Someday Caspian-
- Oh, shut up.

- sets me free.
- Stop it.

- Say, who ordered the tramp with the side

order of poopy gash?

- Ashley.

No.

- Oh my stars and garters.

He's real.

It all makes sense now.

He's the puppet

and you're the puppeteer.

- Quick smart, my shoven cunt.

(thudding)

I haven't done a lick a killing since

way back in the day.

And using an incantation I found in this

weird fictional tome,

I was able to bring back
Jimmy's ghoulish form.

- How does that grab ya, matzoh grip?

(book falling)

- What in the fuck is a matzoh grip?

- I use James as my death machine.

Now, although I've never actually killed

myself, he did all my dirty work.

I just love

to watch all the blood and
semen spray all over the ooze.

Yummy.

- You sick, dirty fuck.

You're never gonna get away with this.

- Oh really?

And what, pray tell, is going to stop us?

(dramatic music)
(door squeaking)

(gun whipping)

- Me, motherfucker.

- Sister?

- (Gwen and Ben) Sister?

- Would somebody please tell me

what the hell's going on here?

- Leo.

Untie these kids and get them to safety.

- Yes, Miss Ambrosia.

(Leo grunting)

- Remember me again?

- What what what?

- I don't even know why
I'm savin' your asses.

(dramatic screaming)

Let's go.

C'mon!

(gun clicks)

- And you.

(gunshots)

Play dead.

Thought I would never find you, Caspian?

Thought you could just kill Mom and Dad

and never suffer the consequences?

- Well, I have done a
pretty good job so far,

don't you think, sis?

And look at you lookin' all
butch and ready to rumble.

- Mom and Dad got what they deserved.

And you were just too blind to see it.

- They deserved to die because they bought

me the Prince record and you the

Captain Geech and the Shrimp
Shack Shooters cassette?

- Yes they deserved to die.

I fucking love Prince.

And they knew.

Cap'n Geech and the Shrimp Shack Shooters?

What the fuck is that?

- Yeah, but you were
into pirates at the time.

- The point is, you always
got what you wanted.

And I always got shafted.

Those motherfuckers bought
you a brand new pair

of Jordache jeans

and me a brand new pair
of women's capri pants.

I had to tell all my friends
the makers ran out of material.

And that was the style.

- So you killed them for it?

Hmm?

- Finding that spell was the best thing

that ever happened to me.

And, for once, I was in
control of my own life.

I used that fleshly bag
of straw to take control

of my own destiny.

I took life by the nuts and
pushed the pedal to the metal.

(giggles)

- Well.

Your killing spree ends here, brother.

I waited a long time to avenge
our family and, tonight,

they shall finally rest in peace.

- No, sister.

Friends to the end, remember?

- This is the end.

Friend.

(crunching)

- Oh.

(screaming)

(intense rock music)

(thudding punches)

(kicks whipping)

(zombie groans)

- Cock-a-doodle ra-

Oof.

Oh shit.

(shrill screaming)
(smacking Leo)

(hitting tree)

- That's it, motherfucker.

You've unleashed the beast now.

I want your asshole on my wall.

Haha.

- God, I'm never fuckin'
hanging out with you again.

- This never woulda happened
if we had watched "Thrashin'."

- I shoulda went to school
and made somethin' of myself.

- Ah!

I should call my mother.

This action needs some
cameras pointed at it.

Look at this:

a movie waiting to be made.

Waiting for me to star as Thunder,

Battle Queen in The Year 2022.

(punching thuds)
- Where's Benny Hill when

you need him?

- Gwen, call the fucking police.

- The black and blue?

Oh they can't act, kid.

Have you seen that show "Cops"?

Total amateurs.

Why what this needs...

is a dance number in the
middle of all this bay-os.

Yes.

With a tune by Dr. Reanimator.

We could call it "Terror
At Blood Fart Lake."

(Leo singing)

- Come on, Jim, sittin'
in the paddy wagon.

Gotta get a rider there.

- Why, it'll be bigger than
Pluto Nash, I tells ya.

Bigger than Pluto Nash.

(gushing splash)

(strangled whimpering)

- Gwen.

My buddy.

(maniacal laughing)

- Bitch.

Haha.

- Oh yeah.

Don't go breakin' my heart.
(Thunder moaning)

- [Jimmy] Don't forget about me!

(thudding)

- Oh, fuck you.

- Get him, Daddy.

Get him.

- Fuck you.

(squishing stab)

(projector whirring)
(lighthearted music)

- And, so it happens.

Gwendolyn Bouvier must take a final bow.

Don't fret.

I have lived a good life.

Growing up to the East Side
beat of Downtown Skid Row.

I picked myself up from my bootstraps

and carried these jugs
into stardom, almost.

(deep inhale)

And, you,

the fans.

You were there for me, weren't you?

Watching me screw my way to
the top of the Hollywood elite.

Thank you.

(plastic squeaking)

Oh, Ben.

Ben, you were always
there for me, weren't you?

Oh, Ben, you were such a good friend.

A friend, that would, from time to time

do me from behind when you
needed a friend with benefits.

Ben, I shall miss you.

And you, Ashley.

The clodhopper I just met
for the very first time.

Why, I remember when we used to spin yarns

about the size of Tim
Conway's flesh prunes.

I shall miss you as well.

- Right back atcha, weirdo.

- Oh and you.

Oh, Scarecrow, I will always remember

the time you killed all of my friends

in a slew of grue and gore.

I shall miss you most of all.

- You're a saucy dame.

Don't ever change.

(neck snaps)

Ah.
(drums kick in)

- Kill her, Jimmy.

Kill her.

(guffawing)

- "Fuck Amelia" sucked.

Fuck you, asshole.

- Oh, come on.

You asshole.

You ruined my weekend.

- You're choking the shit out of me.

Jimmy, help your master.

(Jimmy chuckling)

- I'm sendin' you back to Hell, Jimmy.

(thud)
Oh, my clavicula.

Oh my God.

- Your reign of pornography is over.

- You?

(whipping)

(thudding punch)
(high-pitched whine)

- Oh mine jewels.

Oh my achilles balls.

Oh what a world.

(dramatic horns)

Do you smell fish?

- Frampton comes alive.

(squelching stab)

(Jimmy gurgling)

- [Leo] Get some brains, Scarecrow.

Get some brains.

Jimmy Van Brunt and I don't give a fuck.

- Ooh.

Jimmy, no.

(Jimmy gurgling)

- I'm popping mad.

Orville Reddenbacher's got nothing

on the scarecrow of cabin duster.

(wild laughter)

(whipping kick)

(water splashing)

- Word.

- Huh?

(footsteps)

- You hold that fucker, Ben.

(honking)

And you tie his squirelly ass up.

- You daughter of a bitch.

Once again, you've one-upped me.

But I'll bring about another ghoul.

And bring a whirlpool of
pain upon you and your soul.

And then, he'll bite your nipples

and they'll bleed

and crack.

And I'll piss in 'em.

And they'll sweat

and sting.

- Caspian, my brother,
you leave me no choice.

You shall never kill again,
for I am your destruction.

I've been training for
this moment for years.

And my powers are now strong enough

to execute the task at hand.

- Huh?

- And, now,

I shall envelope you around
my backdoor entryway.

- Come again?

- The sasquatchian mystics
of the Adirondack Mountains

gave me this gift.

The only way to truly destroy your evil is

to ritualistically shove your
whole body into my asshole.

For once inside my cavity,
you shall be eaten alive

by a small army of saber-tooth leeches

which I have been raising
in my bowels for months.

Once they have suckled and
feasted upon your soft flesh,

I shall then poop you
back out in a shit storm

of nothing but hair and bones.

- And you thought I was sick and twisted?

- Ben, pick him up.

Leo, you help him.

- You're on your own
with this one, sister.

- Oh you big baby.

Are you ready, Ben?

(Caspian crying shrilly)
- I guess so.

Wait, are we really gonna shove
this dude into your asshole?

- No.

- Yes.

It's the only way.

Now, stick that fucker in my ass.

- There's a million other ways, bitch.

Come on.

- Death awaits you, my squirrelly brother.

Get in my ass.

(upbeat bass music)
(Caspian shouting)

(squishing)

(sharp cracking)

(alien slurping)

(loud jazzy music)
(Thunder moaning)

- Oh God.

They're eating his flesh.

Oh.

Leo, Ben.

Hold me for support.

- I'm here, miss lady girl.

Come on.

(Thunder straining)

- Come on.

- What's going on?

Tell me.

- I'm going to excrete
my brother from my ass.

- Shit those bones out, woman.

Shit like a vikin'.

(Thunder groans)

- His bones are leaving the
fatty tissue of my loins.

- Oh my-

- Oh my God.

- Oh my God.

- Help me.

Help me.

- What do you want me to do?

What am I doin'?

- Help me, you bitch.

(skin stretching)
(Thunder groaning)

- I can see him.

I can see him coming.

- See you in Hell, brother.

(wet flatulence)
(bones clattering)

(breathing heavily)

- Thank you.

Thank you, boys.

I couldn't have done this without you.

- Girl, I'm gonna need a
lot more than a thank you

for all that bullshit I just witnessed.

I should be at home watchin' Bill Cosby

and eatin' Jell-O puddin'.

Instead I'm at this shitty lake,

bustin' up scarecrow ghouls

and watchin' fat kids go up in your ass.

Hell of a story for the grandkids, though.

- I hate my life.

- Does anyone have a moist towelette?

(upbeat music)