Creepshow (2019–…): Season 1, Episode 5 - Night of the Paw/Times is Tough in Musky Holler - full transcript

Police
believe the suspect escaped

in a gray sedan and may be
headed to the state border.

Suspect is armed

and considered
extremely dangerous.

- Not much longer, my love.

- Mm. Not at all
what I expected.

Turn around real slow,
asshole.

- I should think a simple
thank you would suffice.

- Thank you?

Fuck you!
You took my fingers.

- Correction. I saved your hand



and your life while--
- Back away,

or I swear to God
I'm gonna kill you.

Yes, I know you will.

Yes, I'm counting on it.

- Jesus Christ.

- Nope, guess again.

It's Avery Whitlock.

Friends call me Whitey.

Call me Whitey.

- I need your car, Whitey.

- Yeah, the company vehicle,
yeah.

- Give me the keys.

- You're not gonna get very far
tonight in your condition, dear.

- We'll see about that.



- Well not tonight, you see,
the interstate's flooded.

Do you--do you wanna die,
old man?

- Yes. Yes, absolutely.

In the morning,
I'll be dead,

and you'll be on your way.

But first, tonight, join me
for a glass of wine.

You see, you've lost
a lot of blood, Angela.

And you're gonna need your
strength for the journeys ahead.

Besides, I have something
to give you.

- It's a gift that will make
the very gods tremble.

- Come on.

- I've been saving this
for a special occasion.

Tonight is cause célèbre.

- So, you're going to
tell me what this is...

all about?

- Of course, Angela.

Tonight is all about love
and fate.

Do you believe in fate?

That some unseen force--
be it god or karma--

that controls our lives?

- There are no gods.

But then you already know that
given your age

and your profession.

- Who hurt you?

I was admiring
your wedding band.

Was it a loving spouse?

- My spouse is dead.

- I'm sorry.

- So am I.

His death was...

well, it was not the work
of a benevolent god,

Mr. Whitlock.
- Whitey.

What would you do if I told you
that your visit

was not by choice but rather...

a grand design
perpetrated by me?

- I'd say you've been hitting
too much of the good stuff.

You know, tonight is
my wife's birthday.

Forty-seven years I was
faithful to that woman.

And, um, I can tell you
something that most men can't.

And that's that I loved her
every day.

Even on days I couldn't
bear the click-clacking

of her dentures----
I adored that woman.

Which makes what I did
all the more unthinkable.

- What is that?

- It's a gift I alluded to.

- You see this paw was
smuggled out of Mumbai

by a former client,
now deceased.

Old folklore tells of
an Indian Fakir

who cast a spell on it,
giving it the power

to grant its host three wishes.

Now, the Fakir wanted to prove

that fate ruled people's lives,

and that those that interfered
did so at their own peril.

Note the clenched fist.

That means that three wishes
have already been granted.

- You're gonna tell me what
this little prop here

has to do
with your late wife?

Almost everything.

You see, like you, I didn't
believe in the power of the paw.

But Marjorie,
she couldn't resist.

She made a couple of
frivolous wishes.

The first was a lost recipe.

And the other, I can't recall.

But the point was that
the wishes came to pass.

A lost recipe?

- I know what you're thinking.

But it was her third wish
that convinced me otherwise.

The third and final wish
born of desperation and fear...

Your move.

Her business
was dying.

The once harsh winters,
the seasons of our life's blood,

had grown tame.

In the past, one could always
count on

the pipes freezing up
at the senior center,

along with the few of
the seniors if we were lucky.

But after three generations
of service,

the Whitlock Funeral Home was
on the brink of bankruptcy.

And that's when Marjorie
turned to the paw.

With her final wish
remaining,

she asked for...

- Money.

Send all the money we need
and more.

Within a week,
I was wealthy.

- Wow, sounds like
a shit load of new customers.

- It was a solitary death.

The insurance payout
on my Marjorie.

- ♪ Oh come all ye faithful

♪ Joyful and triumphant ?

♪ Oh come ye, oh come ye

- ♪ Bethlehem

- Marjorie!

The paw took hold
of our fate and squeezed.

Squeezed until fate gave her
what she bargained for.

All the money we had
ever needed and more.

- A coincidence.

- Yeah,
like the flooded interstate.

Possibly.

But it's what happened next
that demonstrated

with unmitigated clarity

the true power of the paw.

Each day had become an eternity.

The hours, the seconds--
my cruelest adversaries.

I prayed for guidance,

but the answers never came.

Until I received what I
took to be divine intervention.

Christ had risen,
had he not?

Up from the dead?

And here I was
requesting a miracle.

Christ forgive me.

I wished my Marjorie
back from the dead.

Whitey.

Whitey.

Help me.

- Marjorie!

Night after night
I held vigil.

But still, my bride
would not return.

Was I being punished for my
part in this godless affair?

Whitey.

But several weeks
later while testing

the integrity of
a new product line--

Horror of horrors.

I wished Marjorie alive,
yes.

But her body would be trapped.

I had to keep
my wits about me.

One wrong move,
and Marjorie would be locked

inside the Premium Ever Rest
for all eternity.

I guarantee it.

- It's me, my love.

I've come to save you.

I'm sorry.

- Here, here.

- It's me, my love.

I've come to save you.

I love you, Marjorie.

No!

- As you were, my love.
As you were.

- I tried convincing myself
it was all imagined.

The experience at the grave

no more than
a waking nightmare.

But the weeks
have not been kind,

and I dream about her
every night.

And I see the look on
her face of terror.

Terror that I helped
facilitate.

And the horror.

The horror of her being trapped
in the Premium Ever Rest

for all eternity.

- You guarantee it.

- I guarantee it.

Think I'm a senile
old buzzard, don't you?

- I think you're full of shit.

- Uh.

Wanna see the scar?

Excuse me?

- From the cemetery where
I got the bite.

Wanna see?
- No, I'll pass.

Thank you.

- Ah.

Tick tock.

It's up to you now.

- The interstate's open.

I'll take those keys now.

- Uh, keys are in the hearse
where they've always been.

- Why did you save my life?

- It's Christian charity.

Bullshit.

- Why was I spared?

- You weren't spared.

I invited you here.

I asked the paw
to send me a killer

to relieve me
of my life misery.

Can't do it myself.

Suicide is too great a sin.

- I'm not a killer.

Oh yes, you are.

I've been following your story.

You've killed before.

And before you leave here today,
you'll kill again.

- Please...

end--end it.

Please.

- I love you.

I can't fight it.

It's our destiny.

- I don't believe in destiny.

But if it'll shut you up.

- Bless you.

- No!

- No, what are you doing?

Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!

Shoot me! Ahhh!

Shoot me, Angela!

- Thank you.

- No, no, no, no.

No, you can't die.

I'm not a killer.
I'm not a killer!

No, you can't--

- The keys?
Where are the keys?

Oh, what?

- Visor.
Shit, Whitey.

- Get up.

Get up, get up.

Fuck you, Whitey.

No, no, no, no!

- Alright!
Listen up, jailers!

Y'all know me.

It's your old pal,
Lester M. Barclay.

And I ain't never
steered you wrong!

Not once! Not ever!

- Give us mercy, oh lord.

That divine mercy.

Wipe away our sins.

- You got us into this.

I did everything you said.

- I'm gonna get us out it, too,
so you just shut the hell up.

- Hey, y'all know you're barking

up the wrong tree here,
don't ya?

Once this all blows over,

we're gonna fix it no time flat.

Shit!

We all got history together!

We all fought the good fight!

And I was always
here for ya!

Even when nobody else
gave a damn!

- I wish someone would stick
a cork in his ol' fat pie hole.

- It ain't funny, Deke.

- I didn't say it was funny.

I don't think none of this
here's funny.

- Hey, we are running
out of time here!

- The clock is still ticking.

If you don't make
a right choice here,

you don't do what is right
for this town,

and for America!

Let me tell you, there is
gonna be hell to pay.

You got that last part
right, baby.

You want out?

We can get you out.

You just might wanna back away
from that door for a minute.

Well, look at you now.

Evil devil woman, all high
and mighty all of the sudden.

After everything that has
happened in this world,

you think you got
what it takes

to keep this pot
from boiling over?

Well, from where I stand,
look like you in

way over your head.

- I know who I am.

And I know what you are.

You ain't the mayor of this town
anymore, you piece of shit.

So, you wanna stand
off to the side there,

'cause for once in your life,
all these others come first.

- Oh shit.

- Pastor Mitchell Ryan,
his wife, Susan,

and son, Jimmy, who encouraged
Lester Barclay's reign of terror

- by claiming it was God's will.
- No.

- News Director Don Pamade
who willingly spread his lies

with the devil's tongue.

Sheriff Deke and his men

who savagely enforced
his wicked laws.

Raping and murdering countless
numbers of our fellow citizens.

- No.

- Leslianne Dowd, who spread
the vicious gossip that

resulted in the loss of so many
innocent lives.

- Whoa!

No, no, no, no, no,
y'all--y'all kidding, right?

You're kidding.
- Does it look like

we're kidding,
you fucking traitor?

You're still just a shitty
used car salesman to me.

Now move, you prick!
- Ah!

- Why don't you just shoot me,
boy, and get it over with?

- You want me to shoot you?

- You know you want to.
Come on, yeah.

- I will, but it won't
get you out of this.

You're going up,
one way or another.

You did it to him.

- You wanna do it, don't ya?
But you can't.

- I'm not asking again!
- 'Cause you're a pussy!

Just like your father.

- It was my baby sister
you raped.

And my--my daddy...

what you did to him...

the way I see it,

my daddy's still
the real sheriff of this town.

And he's up there
waiting for ya.

But you already know that,
don't ya?

- I know that you're a pussy,
boy.

You're a pussy!

Just shoot me!

Preacher. Preacher man.

Now would be a good time
for a prayer.

- I swear to Christ
I didn't say nothing.

I didn't say nothing
to nobody!

- Leslianne, will you
kindly shut the hell up?

- Lottie, please, we can work
something out here.

- Shut the hell up,
Lester.

- No.

- You should have thought
about that before you

subjected these God-fearing folk
to your nasty game.

Held our whole town hostage,
and you forced us to watch.

- No. No, you don't wanna
be doing this.

You know this ain't right.

It's me, your ol' pal,
Lester M. Barclay.

You know what that M
stands for?

Magic.

That's what we got
between us, Lottie.

You and me,
we got magic.

- Hm. Magic?

Now poof, be gone.

Buckle up, everybody,
and enjoy the ride.

- Lottie, we can
make something here.

Lottie, don't walk away.

- Please, oh my God, no!
- Please.

- Please let me go.
- I didn't do anything.

Please, I just did
what I was told.

- What are you doing?
You can't do this to me.

You can't do this!
You know who I am!

- Oh me, oh my.
How I love country pie.

No one knew
what really caused it.

There were many theories
tossed about on the local news,

but none of that mattered.

People panicked.

All anyone knew was that
the Earth

was spitting out its dead.

Before we knew it,

Musky Holler was being overrun.

It was chaos.

But truth be told, Musky was
already kind of a shit hole.

So, was it really that bad
that it was about to be

wiped off the Earth?

The city council was about
to call in the National Guard,

when Lester M. Barclay stormed
in with a bunch of goons.

Meeting's over,
you piss ants!

Your ol' pal Lester M. Barclay
is taking over.

Someone needs to run this town
the way it needs to be run.

Now gentlemen,
contestants, the final round.

Tonight, the contest will
finally end, bringing a close

to this most tragic chapter
in our history.

When the change came, we were
all terrified.

And terrified people can make
shameful decisions.

We all know we bear our shame
of the blame.

And we pray
for our Lord's forgiveness.

But we are a God-fearing people.

And God Almighty, how you've
taught us all to fear

your evil ways,
punished the innocent,

and plunged this community
back into the Dark Ages.

We're here to take it back
in the name of Musky Holler,

and in the name of the people
you murdered.

You have reminded us of what
justice truly means.

And it is justice that brings
us together tonight.

To atone for our sins.
- Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!

To make it right.

This ain't right.

You all know this ain't right.

I-I'm Lester M. Barclay.

I'm the mayor of this town.

- Y'all--y'all picked me to
protect you in our darkest hour.

And I did.

- Y'all know I did.

You--you wouldn't be sitting
where you are right now

if I didn't do what I did!

- No, no, you-you-you-you-you
wanted me to do it.

Hell, y'all begged me to do it.

Now, you're gonna make me
the bad guy?

Oh.

I, 'cause--I'll tell you people
something right now!

- Without me,

you ain't nothing but
a bunch of stupid animals.

I did what needed doing.

'Cause I am the only man
in this town that got any

goddamn balls.

- I...

am Lester M. Barclay!

I am the King of Musky Holler!

Y'all love me!

Don't you remember?

I am the fucking...

goddamn king!

Who the fuck
do you think you are?

You'll never get away
with this.

It all
happened so fast.

Within days, Lester
had gathered up

anyone that could challenge him,
and locked everyone up

under the old high school
football field.

I'm here to tell you
they didn't know how

to keep you safe.

They couldn't keep you safe.

And they won't keep you safe.

Only I can keep you safe.

Y'all will be taken care
of by me, Lester M. Barclay.

I have seen the vision
of our future.

And those that cannot see
will be punished.

With the new world
comes new rules.

We've halted the advance
of the dead after the change,

thanks to me.

You all have your lives
thanks to me!

But there are those who would
have let you die.

Those that did not.

Those that didn't have vision.

They must pay for those
we lost.

And with that,
Lester's reign began.

Anyone that challenged him
was taken to the arena:

politicians, doctors,
police, anyone.

And Lester's sick mind cooked up
the ultimate spectacle

to show what would happen
to anyone that didn't share

his vision of the future.

It became a circus.

The end of the world
"Mad Max" kind of stuff.

And Lester and his goon squad
loved every second of it.

We couldn't figure out
what was worse:

them or the dead.

Then came The Game,
and he made them watch.

Turned it into some sort
of sick contest.

For your crimes
against the people

you pretended to serve,

the town you swore to protect,
and the country you betrayed

through your every word
and deed,

ladies and gentlemen,
for the last time...

Live Pie!

Looks like they're
coming out of the gate

with an early lead.

Who are they are
gonna get to first?

Ooh, it's Don Pamade!

And next, they go onto
the pastor's family.

His wife-oooh!

And the pastor gets it next.

Ooh, and their son.
Oh no!

Now, for the police officers
that served under Deke.

There goes Bo!
- Please, please.

There goes Ruth.

- I think Jesus done
lost his chance!

- That ain't funny, Deke.

- I didn't say it was funny!

Ain't none of this funny!

Now Deke and
Leslianne are up next.

Oooh! And it's Leslianne
that's gonna get it first.

Oh, oh, oh, oh man.
Oh no!

- No, no!

And here comes
the old sheriff.

And he is about to take
a bite out of crime!

There he goes.

All that's left now is Lester.

- You can't do this to me!

- Here comes mayor.
- You could be mayor.

- You could be mayor!
- Mayor's slowly

making his way up.
- Oh no, you can't do this!

And we've got pie!