Where Did You Go?: Me! And Another Creepshow Rundown

It’s no secret that I have been scarce to say the least but that doesn’t mean I am not with you in spirit. It’s really just work, you know. It’s not like I am doing exciting things with a whole new set of friends and priorities only to peek my head back here because I needed a sweater to wrap around my neck to match my pink popped-collar polo shirt only to see all my old friends still sitting here waiting, rocking Misfits t-shirts and drinking beer leading to an awkward, “oh heeeey…how have you guys been?”. No, it’s seriously just a wicked-crazy quarter that requires less fun and more work. Trust me, I am still the same and I am back to writing nonsense. Just like this paragraph. Total nonsense.

So how do I come back to normalcy? I am finding that writing is much like riding a bike for a long distance and then jumping off to a full running sprint; it’s awkward and you look like a fool until you get your groove back. I need to get my groove back. And what better way to get the ol’ groove back than to review a beer and discuss another Creepshow chapter that is near and dear to the heart. Let’s start with the Creepshow!

I am going to start with the intro to the entire movie for two reasons: one, it’s amazing and two, Tom Atkins makes it amazing. Just look at this perfect 1960’s style house that is modernized to the early 1980’s! This was my childhood, folks. All  in one shot and I love it so.

We can hear from the outside of the house that someone is in deep shit for having taboo literature and buddy, he is getting a lashing from the legend himself, Tom Atkins. Tom is giving the ol’ what-for over finding a copy of the comic, Creepshow, in his kid’s room and to defend himself, the kid points out it’s not as bad as some of the magazines Tom has in his sock drawer.

And that’s when his son learns about “five-figured justice”. You don’t TALK ABOUT TOM ATKINS’ SOCK DRAWER! The wife tries to calm Tom down but the foot came down and now the comic is headed for the garbage. Even after pleads from his son, Tom just really hates this comic book.

And there it lays in a Oscar’s house. But soon Tom gets an uneasy feeling as he heads back to the house because in the distance, you can faintly hear a creepy laugh.

Now that the law has been laid down, it’s Miller time. His wife is noticeably upset (based on her furious knitting) but what’s done is done and Tom kicks back a brew stating not once but twice, “That’s why God made fathers, babe.”.

Meanwhile, upstairs….

Let me first say that this kid is pretty cool. Noted he came from a Tom Atkins’ character’s loins but still, his room decor and choice of comics makes him a friend of Veggiemacabre. Anyway, he is also awesome because he is not scared at all of this thing looking in his window…

Had it been an all you can eat Indian buffet night and I saw that staring in my window, all I can say is the sheets would have been chilling in Oscar’s house with the comic. But not this stud! Nope, he smiles away pounding his fist into his hand. Vengeance is close at hand.

We come to the end of the movie but before the credits roll we get to see what Billy (Tom’s son) is going to do to his oppressive father. But even before that we get a nice treat by a little known cameo from..

Tom Savini and Marty Schiff who were also in cameos in Dawn of the Dead! Instead of a motorcycle gang, this time they are garbage man who thumb through the discarded comic looking specifically at the dumb stuff advertised between the stories. One in particular caught my eye.

I know this was from an earlier segment but I love this ad. “By selling Bolt, the family newspaper nobody knows about and win great prizes like:

  • A bow and arrow
  • Pistols and rifles
  • Surveillance equipment
  • Cannon and Tanks
  • Nuclear warheads

Seems like a bargain! Especially if I am selling a newspaper nobody knows about!

Anyway, they flip to the voodoo doll ad that had already been cut-out. Already been cut-out? Uh oooooh!

Looks like Tom was in some considerable pain last night and didn’t get much sleep. That is probably because little Billy sent away for the Voodoo doll which surprisingly was an awesome buy!

I really don’t know the moral of the story here. Don’t hit your kid?  Don’t mouth off to Tom Atkins? Be careful what you hide in the sock drawer? Well, I think what we have here is that if Iran really wants a nuclear warhead, they are looking in the wrong magazines.

Just ask Tom Atkins.


Just When You Thought It Was Safe…

Do you have completely irrational fears? Not like a fear of being trampled to death at a Miley Cyrus concert or a fear of the moon falling into the Earth, because while those are odd fears and highly unlikely to happen, they are plausible. I am talking about fears that defy logic and reality. I am about to share one of mine with you and it all started on a summer day in the year 1985 when my Uncle Nat introduced me to the movie, Jaws.

I can’t think of a single movie that had that much of an effect on me. Going to the beach every summer always had a shadow of a shark looming in my head and I was content to just make sand castles for my micro-machines, drink Ecto Cooler Hi-C and get grit in my mouth from eating Doritos with sandy fingers. But when I was told to go rinse off, that music, oh that music started in my mind and I was ever so quick to get in and get out while other kids played in the surf. No surf fun for me. I saw what happened to Alex Kintner. 

Since that fateful day in 1985 I have had this lurking unease that a giant great white shark could appear at most any body of water to include lakes, ponds, SWIMMING POOLS, jacuzzis, baths, really hard rains, full sinks and toilets. I even had a dream that there was a free-floating shark roaming around my house and I had to hide in the fridge to escape being eaten. Then Rue McClanahan showed up and things got weird but that’s for another post. I need to stay focused.

Even today as a rational, working and (maybe) intelligent adult, I still get an unease that somewhere there is a swimming devil that wouldn’t mind chewing me up. This plagues my soul and got me thinking. Have you ever read the Stephen King book, Mist? I might be mistaken but essentially the military accidentally opens up a…something, and all these horrid creatures come out and kill people in the worst ways imaginable. What if (stay with me here) a parallel universe crossed with ours and air-breathing great white sharks that can fly showed up and could hide and attack when least expected! I seriously have thought about this. And I think it would look very much like this:



Here Comes The Meat Wagon!

It has been nearly a week since my last post and it has felt like a month. I swear this January has been the longest span of time since the time I watched Valentines Day. So much has happened and yet it feels like time has slowed somehow. I thought that being busy meant time goes fast? The other day at work I think I witnessed a glitch in the matrix and saw the same person leave their cubical twice without going back. But really I think it’s the cold meds because some jacka-douche gave me a cold. Can January suck any harder? Wait…retract that. It’s not February yet. January can still be a dick.

I have no idea what to write about besides maybe doing a review of one of my favorite Creep Show movie chapters that will always go down as a lesson that hitting a hitchhiker and not reporting it may come back to bite you in the end. Or maybe not to hitchhike. Perhaps don’t cheat on your husband? Maybe , you should buy a Mercedes because they can take a beating. I don’t know, but if you’re going to Dover, then you should probably fly.

Just like how every Creep Show movie installment begins, we start with a comic picture turned to real-life and we soon learn that a couple is just waking after what seemed to be like quite an episode of adult paddy cake to learn that the digital alarm clock is blinking 12:00 and that could only mean that the power is out. No big deal to most but we soon learn the lady had PAID for sex with a young banker/jiggalo and she needed to be home at 11:30 on the dot or Hell of Gozarian would come down on her from her husband.

We see they are negotiating price which is a weird turn of the tables to such a negotiation of goods. Apparently six orgasms are worth $150. (Is this true?) And he is well on his way to his own new Mercedes if he keeps preforming.

One can’t help to notice over the right shoulder of male whore #1 or what my species calls “the fucking man” is a copy of a Stephen King novel. Way to be subtle Mr. King. What is next? A cameo of you doing some sort of blue collar job? I am sure you will think of something that will cause the director to want to hit his dick into a an angry humming bird nest.

Well, $150 bucks passed and the lady is on the road to drive twenty miles in seven minutes. She talks to herself. A lot. She jokes about the excuses she will come up with and even rationalized that $150 for six orgasms is a heck of a deal and her husband would absolutely agree, economically, she was wiser for it. She gets her story straight but an allusive cigarette flips from her fingers and she looses control of her car. Seems plausible, especially when this guy is in the way…

Juke left!!! Too late. This poor guy was hitching to Dover but instead ended up a Mercedes bumper trophy and in all honesty, his positioning kind of deserved it. Who hitches on a blind curve?

'The quarterback IS toast!"

Daaaaaaamn…there goes you’re accident forgiveness policy with Allstate. This might be hard to explain. Unless you say fuck it and take off.

Und she did.

Remember when I asked when a cameo with Stephen King would show up? Here he is and boy he looked as stupid as his original character in the first Creep Show when he turned into a stereo-voiced grass creature. (never put your fingers in your mouth) This time he is a truck driver that happens upon the remains of what the lady did to the Dover-bound hitch-hiker. Stephen makes it a point to say he is a black guy. Truuuuuuuuue.

Meanwhile, the typical bad driver is having a moral dilemma about having left the scene of the crime and debates whether or not to turn herself in. She comes to grips that she killed someone but is worried what will become of her. Rationality sets in and she chalks it up to an accident so why ruin her life too. It totally makes sense. I have had this inner debate when I ran over a squirrel last year.

But after she began to feel a little bit better, she passed a familiar person. (the squirrel didn’t do this) Slamming on the brakes she looked in the review mirrior and much to her shock, the dead guy is still in need of  a ride to Dover. Fudge.

“Thanks for the ride, lady!” Now this is the kind of dude that rubs me the wrong way. It’s one thing to ask and it’s totally different to demand. She did what she had to and rolled up the window, shriek, drive like an asshole and piss her blue leather seats. It is precisely the same thing I would have done.

The funny thing about this whole story is it takes place from the passenger’s side of a 1986 Mercedes and we never even think about it. Had this been any other movie we would have been like, “God, when will she get out of the car and do something?” Here, it’s like Hogan’s Heroes and instead of a Sherman battle tank of WWII we have a German luxury car. Is this irony? I’m confused now.

So, unable to shake the dead “stage five clinger” from her car she decides to DRIVE THROUGH THE WOODS and strip him from the roof. A really good idea in a Range Rover but this might void the warranty on a 86′  Mercedes. Theory. Surprisingly the car does just fine as she maneuvers through dense Maine forrest at night. I know.

The guy really needs this ride! Soon the detour works and the dead Dover-bound fella can’t hold his grip against a thick low hanging tree branch and she finds her way out of the forrest, onto a road where she does a typical horror movie thing.

She stops to collect her thoughts. Anyone who has seen a horror flick knows that when you are being chased by something that should be dead, there has to be time to stop, turn your back on the said thing, and collect yourself. Other wise we wouldn’t have scenes like this:

Jumpin’ Jesus, he will not drop the “need a ride” thing! This time, however, she has a little help from a .38 she has hid in the glovebox and puts a barn door in his chest. Twice. And twice in the head. I am starting to like this lady.

Oh yeah, and she backs up into him, runs him over and then drives back over him just to be sure. Check that, I am starting to love this woman.

It appears that she and her severely mangled Mercedes have gotten the best of the persistent hitch-hiker and she is well on her way to explain to the husband why a tree, blood splatter and a sign to Dover are all crammed in the grill. Her sigh of relief brings more self-discussion as she imagines what the auto repair technical will say. “Just six thousand dollars and it will be just like you drove it off the showroom floor.” But soon this happens. As we predicted.

Come on! Now tell me I am wrong but doesn’t this sound like one of those Scary Stories books Alvin Schwartz wrote with a third-grade climactic ending? “You killed me”? Really? Well, it is to the point although a tad drab. This would have been a prefect time to take this comedy to a new level. He should have held a sign stating “You’re a quart low” or “Is there something in my teeth besides your car?” Ha! Oh, the possibilities.

Loos like it’s time to take this car off road again.

This time she bashes the guy into a tree four times, ending with a knockout blow to herself against the steering wheel as she collapses stating, “that’ll cost you”. I am not sure but after all that road damage this might be the final end to a fine automobile.

Nope! She wakes up and drives the car out of the woods and through the neighborhood, coasting into the garage in worse shape than the Family Truckster.

This was totally a deer. That’s what I would say. As Delia would say, “..a little gasoline, a blowtorch. No problem!”. Her insurance adjuster might disagree though.

Oh what could possibly happen? Could it be a Friday the 13th ending or could it be a Deliverance ending?

How about both! He finally got his ride. Not to Dover though and to be honest, he looks a little beat up from the trip. With an eyeball here and a tongue over there, he crawls out from underneath the car and like a gentleman he thanks her for the ride.

And chokes the shit out of her! We all knew she couldn’t live with hitting this guy. One way or another, she would pay for it. So what is the moral of the story? Is it not to cheat on a spouse? Prostitution is a bad thing? Greed can lead to hard times? Killing someone and then driving away is wrong?


Buy a Mercedes Benz because those things can take a beating and still get you home. With or without a hitch-hiker.

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