Boo! (1932) - full transcript

A wisecracking narrator mocks footage featuring Frankenstein's monster and Count Dracula.

With times as tough as they are, we
present a formula for cheap amusement:


First you eat a real lobster -
not the kind they send to Congress.

Then you add milk
and mix in a horror story.

We've all heard of the worm that turned,

but this is the bookworm
that turned - inside out.

If you can work up a chill, it helps.

A little tomain poisoning will get
your mind off your other troubles.

When you get that feeling,

a cross between delirium tremens
and the seven-year itch,

you know that something
will come up any minute.

A good nightmare always begins
in a dark cellar with a coffin.

A caretaker comes down to see that
all the ghosts are locked up for the night.

He'd better keep away from the casket
or he'll be coughin'.

But he doesn't care.
You can see how brave he is.

So he decides to ask the guy
his name and how he feels.

Why, it's Dracula,
the guy who invented necking.

The caretaker decides to run out
and have a good fit.

He's afraid that Dracula may want
a blood transfusion any minute,

but when he tries to go away,
he meets himself coming back.

It looks as though
he's having his ups and downs.

He acts like Congress
and always ends up where he started.

This exercise is good
for water on the knee,

water on the brain
and other naval diseases.

It is also a good way of enjoying
the jitters without drinking alcohol.

The poor fellow is afraid to go to bed,
so he sleeps in a hammock.

Dracula wants to start his stuff. He thinks
he's clever, but we see right through him.

So the caretaker comes downstairs
with a hatchet.

I don't know how he got upstairs,
but anything can happen in a nightmare.

Dracula was a big cheese,
so he always had mice around him.

So he hits Dracula in the coffin.

As usual, Dracula rises to the occasion.

Now he's got Dracula sore, and
the caretaker hasn't a ghost of a show.

The caretaker decides
he might have been seeing things.

Maybe his near beer
was nearer than he thought.

No, sir, he was right. A guy
with a face like Dracula must be a spook,

or he'd have his face lifted. And the worst
of it is, this spook looks screwy.

There's nothing screwier
than a screwy spook.

He decides to retire. If I were in his place,
I'd resign or at least quit.

As the door blows open, he gets
the delicious aroma of fresh ghost.

He gets an attack of the pivot disease.

It's like the hiccups -
the more you do it, the more you have to.

When you think you're over it,
you're just beginning.

The only way to stop is to do it faster
and tire yourself out.

If you saw this sight in your bedroom,
maybe you'd have a jitter or two.

He's got it again. This is what's known
as being several sheets in the wind.

It's becoming a habit.

Pretty soon he'll wear out the sheet
and he'll have to start on the mattress.

Then he'll get down to the rugs
and they'll need new furniture.

So Dracula comes up close and shows us
what the well-dressed ghost is wearing.

He throws his silhouette on the wall, and
the wall is so scared, it looks plastered.

And now the blood may spurt any minute.

Gush, gush.

There is the profile that has won first prize
in all the ghost beauty contests.

When Dracula was born,
his mother took one took at that face

and had herself arrested.

So he decides to go back to his coffin
and sleep for 100 years

until Congress decides to do something
about the Depression.

Well, well, what a nightmare.

Think of having Dracula and the monster
from Frankenstein in the same dream.

He's asleep, but maybe if we talk
in his own language we can wake him.

You see, it's very simple,
if you know how to handle your monsters.

This looks dangerous.
Hey, Doctor, look out. He's awake.

Well, it's too late. It looks as if
the doctor is going to need a doctor.

No, we were wrong. The doctor's
going to need an undertaker.

The monster starts out to look for trouble.

There's so much trouble these days,
he shouldn't have any trouble finding it.

He can't decide which way to go.
He's like a woman automobile driver.

Here's Dracula. When he and the monster
get together, things should happen.

What do you think of that?
He's afraid of Dracula.

Which proves that a monster
can dish it out, but he can't take it.

Who's this? Why, it's Helen Twelvetrees.

Maybe the nightmare is going to become
a pleasant dream. No, we're wrong.

The monster is still looking for trouble.

A man tells Helen she has no business
being in the same nightmare as Dracula.

But Dracula's nearby and the gentleman's
finish starts to begin to commence.

Meantime, the monster is looking on
and studying Dracula's technique.

Helen is beside herself,
and now something else is beside her.

There's nothing for Helen to do but faint
and wait for the nightmare to be over.

Dracula's income tax was due
and he had to get some money.

When night came,
Helen had decided to call it a day.

But she forgot to take her jewels off, and
they look like ready money to Dracula.

He has to be careful.
Helen is very ticklish around the neck.

In fact, it's a very ticklish situation.

And, of course,
the monster is taking it all in.

But suddenly Dracula throws caution to
the winds and his fingers to the windpipe.

Finally, the deed is did,
and Helen awakes in her sleep.

When Helen tells the young man she saw
a ghost, he says he'd like to see one too.

Well, it's too bad. It looks as if his goose
is cooked or his cook is hashed.

Dracula gets him and we hear the vampire
eating his supper behind the wall.

It's becoming tough. Every time
Helen talks to a man, Dracula gets him.

At this rate, she could never get married -
she'd be a widow every 15 minutes.

Dracula has finished his entr?e
and is coming back for the dessert.

The monster is still around
and he's getting a lot of bad ideas.

There comes Dracula in disguise,
but we'd know him anywhere.

You can always recognise him
by the fourth toe on his left foot.

The monster thinks
chasing women is a lot of fun.

In fact, he decides to try it himself.

And here's little Mae Clarke.

She's going to be married
and, as you see, she's jumping with joy.

In the background is the monster,
ready to try out Dracula's technique.

If Mae had eyes in the back of her head,
she'd faint. Hey, Mae.


Too bad. We tried to warn you, Mae.

So she starts to run
with the monster behind.

They start to play follow-the-leader,
then it becomes ring-around-the-rosey.

Mae is so scared,
she's running around in circles.

If her fianc? sees her,
he'll think she's nutty.

She finally tells the monster she can't
play because she's got to be married.

The poor monster is broken-hearted
because nobody's afraid of him.

He has to sit down all day, because when
he stands up his feet touch the floor.

But finally he sees what he wants
and decides to go after it.

What can it be? Maybe it's Dracula.

Whatever it is, he wants it.

Why, it's our lobster-and-milk friend,
and look where he is.

He'd better look out,
or the monster will get him.

It's a good thing he's waking up,
or he might fall and break his chandelier.

And the moral of this story is:

you can milk a cow,
but a lobster is very ticklish.