Funhouse (2019) Movie Script
1
Let go!
- Oh, my...
- God! No!
- Now, get up!
- No!
No.
Please! No, please! No, no!
- You're not finished.
- No. No, please.
There are no pleases here.
We had a deal. Remember?
I dictated the terms,
you named your price,
and then you willingly
committed murder.
While this has provided me
a brief reprieve
on an otherwise banal Tuesday,
you still
have one final obligation.
Also, something tells me
those crocodile tears
are going to dry
right up the second
you walk out of here
and start spending.
I mean, for people like you,
that's a given.
Now, come on, you can do it.
Put it where it belongs.
On the ground.
Now, see,
that was not so hard, was it?
Clean her up,
give her the money,
and get her
the fuck outta here. Jesus.
Kasper Nordin.
Welcome
to Furcas's House of Fun.
Please get dressed
and make your way
to the common room
for some food and refreshments.
Hope you have fun!
Big news, Kaz.
I got something very interesting
in the pipe for you.
It's a new reality series
- called...
- You gotta be kidding me!
And hang on.
You win, you get five million.
I just wanna move on, okay?
Mainstream.
No more of this reality shit.
Look, Kaz,
it's not like producers
are kicking down
my door for you.
These guys asked
for you by name.
- Why? Because of Darla?
- Who cares?
You and Darla did a show
together. People know your face.
People hate my face.
That show was the stupidest
thing I ever did.
That's 'cause it was about her.
This time it's about you.
It's redemption time.
I think it sounds
pretty sketchy to me.
Hello, mate.
What's the craic with you?
Hey. What happened?
How come everyone says that
when they come out here?
What kind of show is this?
They drugged us.
Woke up me fucking skivvies,
some voice on high saying,
"Get changed
and proceed to the common room."
These people are getting so sued
believe you me.
You've never been
drugged before?
Yeah, but of my own volition,
and at my own discretion,
and not in this outfit.
What have they done
with me clothes?
They choose our clothes,
that was in the contract.
Well,
at least give me some variety.
Spice of fucking life.
Not the same
ten quim-pink shirts every day.
- Slainte!
- Wh... where are we?
Welcome
to Furcas's House of Fun.
Hello? Anyone in charge?
I'm pretty sure kidnapping
is illegal, yeah?
He's tried this
three times already.
- Yo, mate, nobody's coming.
- Get fucked.
What the fuck
did you just say to me?
I didn't know.
I said, "What the fuck
did you just say to me?"
Sorry, mate, I am, uh,
clinically claustrophobic.
Might even suffer from a smidgen
of the ole Tourette's, yeah?
I'm just fucking with you.
I'm just fucking with you.
Irish sense of humor.
Fucking legendary.
- Is there a phone?
- No phones.
Took our mobiles as well.
So, you can kiss
that social media hot streak
goodbye.
It's all in the contract.
What's the last thing
you remember?
Getting in the limo
after the airport
and then...
...lights out.
- Woke up here.
- Yeah. Ditto.
And you lot are all right
with all this?
Wow, you've never
been knocked out before?
- You'll be fine, man.
- Fucking mental.
For five million quid,
I'm all right with it, mate.
- Do you want a drink?
- Uh, yeah.
I know you.
Yeah, you're that guy.
- Kasper, Kasper, Kasper, uh...
- Nordin.
Kasper Nordin. You were married
to that girl, um...
- Darla Drake.
- Darla fucking Drake.
You guys had that show.
Back up Love.
Back up fucking Love!
Oh, you lucky son of a bitch,
yeah. Beautiful girl,
great voice, nice set of...
Fucking...
Look, I'm real sorry, man,
but that song,
"Put Your Heart on the Line,"
oh, that was a solid
fucking tune, man!
Solid fucking tune!
Yeah.
This place ain't bad.
But it's weird.
A hot tub filled with milk.
Amigos, good news.
We found a hot tub.
Yeah. And it's filled with milk.
It's fucking weird.
It's not milk, stupid.
I told you nyuuyoku-zai.
It's Japanese.
Okay, okay, relax, sister.
Breathe.
It's called yukobukake shit.
Who cares?
Who's the big bird?
Oh, shit, it's Kasper Nordin.
It's Kasper Nordin, man.
- No way? Never heard of him.
- I'll give you a hint.
Don't waste my time
Or you'll never be mine
Put your heart on the line
Put your heart on the line
- Nah.
- He's fucking
- Darla Drake's ex-husband, man!
- Oh, yeah! Good for you.
Yeah. Can we move on?
Can I get my drink, please?
Scotch.
Hi, everyone.
Ula La More.
- Ximena.
- Ula.
- Hi, I'm Ula.
- What's up?
- Hi. Ula.
- Ooh-la-la, yes, you are.
- I'm Dex.
- Hi, Dex.
Hi. I'm Ula.
I know. I, uh,
follow you on the Insta.
Cool.
Can someone tell me
where the producers are, please?
I take it you don't like
being drugged either?
I scoured the entire flat.
Couldn't find a camera,
a director,
not even a bloody PA.
- Can't get outside neither.
- This is not good.
Hi, I'm Nevin.
I'm claustrophobic, clinically.
- No shit?
- "El Shocker"?
Yeah. This guy knows what's up.
Put her there, Daddy!
I thought you was dead.
Yeah.
Welcome
to Furcas's House of Fun.
Now, broadcasting live
to the entire world.
Streaming 24/7,
seven days a week,
with no commercial
interruptions.
High stakes, high drama...
...anything goes.
It's the ultimate
in online-reality-fun,
where you, the global audience
must decide who is sent
packing,
and who takes home
the five million-dollar
grand prize.
So, without further ado,
let's meet our contestants.
Ula La More!
Yeah, boy!
Dropped from heaven
straight to Warsaw, Poland...
...Miss La More now resides
in the City of Angels
- where she boasts more than...
- Woo-hoo!
...eight million
Instagram followers
and spends her days
working out,
hanging out, and going out.
- Yo, is that...
- Ula La More.
What is this?
It's that, um, Funhouse thing.
It's a show.
...And yolo-ing the hell
out of the Funhouse
for all to see!
- James Headstone Malone.
- Oh, motherfucker...
He's a mixed martial artist,
hailing out of
Dundalk, Ireland.
After crushing skulls
on the hit reality series,
The Warriors Way,
the Irish prince of pain
took a run at MMA gold...
I'm the fucking future!
...but unfortunately,
fell short.
Retired since 2016,
Headstone still enjoys
hitting the gym,
hitting the bar,
and hitting other people.
Hey, man...
Cat Zim.
The Filipino killer from Manila
was a star
on the short-lived series,
The Real Wiccans of Westchester,
but now, only dabbles
in the dark arts
as a solo performance artist.
This quiet queen of cute
also holds the honor...
...of being the youngest female
chess grand master in history.
The man simply known as Dex.
After making a splash
on the hit
reality show spin-off,
Santiago Shore,
this Chilean troubadour
joined the rap game
where he dropped the hit
of the one-wonder variety,
"El Shocker."
This ends right here
And it's called El Shocker
- El Shocker, El Shocker...
- That never gets old.
Lonni Byrne. The
lonely lass of Boston, Mass.
I'm the bride-to-be.
The season 18
bride-to-be
is notorious for dumping
27 men,
only to be left at the altar
twice during the final rose,
a Bride to Be first.
I think you're incredible,
but... I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
This titillating temptress
is known not only
for her rare beauty, but also
her extracurricular antics,
which have landed her
in the hot seat
on more than one occasion.
- Hey...
- This one
can definitely hold her own
with the boys, and then some.
Nevin Eversmith.
What's up, YouTube?
It's your boy,
Nevin Eversmith coming
at you again.
This British baculum of bombast
is a YouTube sensation
whose ironic claim to fame
is talking
about and rating viral videos,
chalking up more than ten
million subscribers
in the process.
Not to mention, making
a few viral videos of his own.
Fucking hell...
- Ximena Torres.
- What's up, guys?
Just over the border in Tijuana
is where this lethal Latina
resides.
She's Mexico's number one
blogger
on all things pop culture,
and has proven time and again
that social media hazing truly
is mightier than the sword.
Watch your back, amigos,
'cause I'm always watching.
- What are you watching?
- I'm watching a program.
- Funhouse.
- Funhouse?
Celebutants, take heed
and keep your nose clean,
otherwise, she's got you
in her sights.
Careers have been made
and destroyed
by the stroke of her key.
Hi, Kasper. Poor thing.
Just ask our last contestant.
Last and possibly least,
just kidding,
is Stockholm,
Sweden's favorite orphan,
Kasper Nordin.
This crooning Casanova
struck pay dirt
when he landed
a job singing backup
for pop's hottest princess,
Darla Drake.
- Put your heart on the line
- Put your heart on the line
Darla fell hard
for the Swedish chansonnier
and as fast as you could say,
"Put your heart on the line,"
the two lovebirds were married
and had their own reality show,
Darla and Kasper, Back up Love.
After the inevitable split,
Kasper had a very brief
solo career
and is now trying his hand
at acting.
Freeze, buster!
It's not worth it.
It so is!
City life.
We can't wait to see
what he has in store
for us next. Hope you have fun.
- Whoo!
- That's fucking deadly, man.
Um, okay,
um... I'm sorry.
It's kind of my job.
- This is a nightmare.
- Savage.
Hello, everyone. I'm Furcas,
and I'll be your guide
during your stay
at my House of Fun.
Unfortunately,
when this is over,
only one of you will be with us
to collect
the five million-dollar prize.
So, do your best to make
sure that person is you.
Every three days,
your loyal viewing audience
will vote to see who stays
and who goes.
The housemate
who receives the least votes
must face
a skill testing challenge.
- But if the vote count...
- Yeah. Whoo!
...is within one percentage
point,
the lowest two will compete
to see who survives.
Any questions?
- Ximena, you look puzzled.
- Yeah. You're not a recording?
No, I'm Furcas, your guide
through the Funhouse.
Any other questions?
- Yes, Nevin?
- Uh, oh, yeah, Furcas, is it?
Yeah, you gave us
a Cosby Cocktail.
- What's that all about?
- That was agreed upon
in your contract. Section 32 C.
I fucking told you.
Yeah. We're not allowed outside.
I'm claustrophobic, you know,
clinically.
So I've heard.
The contract
clearly dictated the terms.
You're confined to the interior
of the house.
If you leave at any time,
you'll be disqualified
and your one 100,000-dollar
entry gift will be revoked.
You'll be monitored
in every room
of the house at all times.
Okay. What about the cameras?
Are they in the bathroom?
The cameras are hidden
throughout the house.
And while using
the bathroom or shower,
your image will be blurred
to the viewing public.
However, if you so choose,
this blurring feature
can be removed
by you at any time.
Once a day,
for at least five minutes,
you must enter
the confession booth
and speak to our viewers
about anything you want.
Other than that,
you can do as you wish
for as long as you're here.
Fuck me, mate!
Don't be creeping like that.
Occasionally,
you'll see helpers
such as this
throughout the house.
They're here to clean,
restock food and drink,
and guide you
through challenges.
You can speak to them
if you wish,
but they will not answer.
They are here only to help.
Then if there are no further
questions, good luck,
and enjoy your stay
at Furcas's House of Fun.
Okay. Is it just me
or is there all kinds of wrong
with everything here?
Right. Who wants a drink?
Two for me.
- Yes.
- Make it double.
So, we're just supposed
to talk then?
Into there?
No, nobody gonna tell us how
Or take us down, whoa..."
Well, look who showed up.
...Yeah, here we go...
- Headstone here.
- Hi, it's me, Ula.
El Shocker, El Shocker
What's up?
It's your girl Ximena Torres,
coming at you live
from the Funhouse.
...We're gonna
have some fun
Let's all get
A little bit higher...
You're dead sweetheart.
Here we go.
Uh, if my agent's watching,
what the actual fuck, Gary?
You know
I'm clinically claustrophobic!
Yeah, you could have told me
we'd be packed in here
like a bunch of lab rats.
...Fire dancer...
Fire dancer
Show me your crown...
Okay, shut up!
...Show me your crown...
I bet you didn't read
the contract, Gary, did ya?
Your one job, mate.
You sit behind your desk,
you read contracts.
It's like they knew
I was claustrophobic
and they used it against me.
Hang on. I'm... I'm in here.
Actually, it reminds me
of a knock-knock joke.
Knock-knock.
Uh, little old lady...
Didn't... didn't know
you could yodel.
Come on, Kaz.
Stakes are too high
for that, man.
I'm a lot better
at telling jokes in Swedish.
Wait, how the hell am I supposed
to update social media
if I'm trapped in here
without a phone, Gary?
Who the fuck is Gary?
You know what? Hashtag
#FuckGary.
Let's get that ball rolling,
yeah?
No "El Shocker"?
Oh, no, no, sweetie.
...Come for you...
Everybody in the house seems...
nice, but with that many
dysfunctional people...
To new friends!
...get ready.
Drama, she's coming.
How do you even do that?
No. Come on!
What's up, guys?
- Don't forget, vote for Ximena.
- Kisses.
Right.
Maybe a half an hour in heaven
before the Devil knows
your dead. Vote Headstone.
Vote Lonni.
Vote Dex, yo.
Vote Ula La More.
You won't regret it.
See you tomorrow.
In the future,
I'm reading the contracts,
that much I can tell you.
Uh, vote Nevin.
I'll probably talk
about something
more interesting next time.
Vote Cat.
Sorry about the joke.
Um, vote for me, anyway.
- Show me that. Yes.
- Why?
- The dude's Swedish.
- And?
Hey, everybody. I'm Pete Sake,
bringing you the best
of the worst to the web.
Up first, the new reality
show abomination
everyone's talking about,
Furcas's House of Fun,
featuring
eight former celebrities,
aka fame whores,
competing to see
who can be the most
cringeworthy,
all the while facing off
for five million dollars.
Something tells me this crew
is gonna make anyone
who actually ate a Tide Pod
feel like a Rhodes scholar.
Should be fun.
So, you're from Boston, huh?
I'm from Grand Rapids,
Michigan, originally.
Went to Boston U
for four years, though.
What did you take?
I am the proud owner of a degree
in Elizabethan literature.
Oh, wow. That's cool.
Cool if you want
a Shakespeare quote.
Not so cool if you want a job
that pays actual money.
Seems to be a lot
of that going around here.
So you are the bride-to-be.
That's my claim to fame.
Or, rather, infamy.
Yeah, well, I can relate.
I thought
I heard voices out here.
My kind of people, huh?
Night owls. I'll bartend.
Well, I'm more of a rooster
these days,
so, you two have at it.
Oh, no. Ugh, no.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, Kasper,
where the hell are you going?
- Oi, it's time for a drink.
- I think I'm also
a little bit more of a rooster
myself.
Roosters? No, no, fuck roosters.
All right? Fuck 'em.
Night owls fly down
with their claws
and kill roosters.
And then eat them.
Well, when you put like that.
Ooh.
Thank you.
Cheers.
The bold will die,
as will the strong.
As legends, we go on.
- Wait. What... what was that?
- What?
- What did you say?
- What?
What are you talking about?
It was a toast
my father used to say.
My father was a hard man.
But he made me
the man I am today...
by beating the ever-living shite
out of me
every day he was alive.
Anyway...
...repeat after me.
- The bold will die.
- The bold will die.
- As will the strong.
- As will the strong.
- As legends we go on.
- As legends we go on.
- Slainte.
- Skoal.
Are you a friendly ghost,
Casper?
Actually,
it's Kasper with a K.
We didn't really
have that cartoon in Sweden.
We had The Moomins, though.
You should check that out.
So, why do they call you
Headstone?
Because I put
people into the earth.
Lay them to rest, so to speak.
Fair enough.
And because it rhymes
with Malone.
It does.
Also,
I have an extremely hard head.
Okay.
So, it's a... a triple entendre
when you think about it, right?
I... I got it.
- Right. Slainte!
- Skoal!
What?
- Just drink.
- Fair enough.
They don't have any
fucking beer around here.
And that's why you always
get a Fluffer, okay?
I will make a note of that.
Yeah.
Hey, my man,
you know what happened
in the ftbol match
Colo-Colo y La U?
Hey. Do you speak Spanish?
Ftbol, you know?
Oh, I got it, I got it.
It's soccer, isn't it?
You know about soccer?
Why do some people
call it soccer
and some football?
Never understood that.
Hello, everyone.
Furcas, how are you doing, mate?
Congratulations on making it
through the first three days
in the Funhouse.
I see friendships were made,
some more than others.
There were some tense moments,
but all in all, it looked
like everyone's had fun,
and that's the name
of the game.
But now, the votes are in,
and, unfortunately,
for one of you,
it's time to say goodbye.
So, without further ado,
let's find out who.
Let's go.
Come on. Come on.
Yeah! Go, Dex! Go, Dex! Go, Dex!
Well, there we have it.
You fucking won.
Three percent.
What in the actual fuck?
Ula taking an early lead.
Looks like turning off
the blur feature in the shower
really helped your cause.
Cat with a strong second,
followed by Dex,
Headstone, Kasper,
and Ximena, a tight race.
Then we have Lonni and Nevin.
But because your votes
are within one percent,
you'll both have to undergo
a challenge
to see who makes it
to the next round.
So, let's just see
what your challenge shall be.
Piata Party!
What?
- Yo, that's racist.
- A little.
Lonni, Nevin,
please follow the helper
- to your first challenge.
- Well...
...let's get this over with.
Bye-bye.
It's because I'm a Limey,
isn't that it?
Yeah, colonialism,
that's what it is.
All right,
you bamboo-munching Muppet,
lets' go. I'll let this happen,
but this is bullshit.
Yeah, number one bullshit.
It ain't 'cause he's British.
It's because he bitches
all the time.
People don't like whiny shit.
But you know what people
do like is T&A.
- Yeah, boy.
- Excuse me?
Oh, nothing. I'm just saying.
Well, I'm just saying,
show them if you got them.
Oh, yes, girl, I got them.
And everything you see
is a 100 percent real.
People voted for me
because I'm a nice person.
- I'm likeable, bitch.
- Ooh.
No, babe,
they voted for you
because you showered naked
in front of millions of people.
But whatever,
that's real classy, ho.
Oh, whoa, whoa.
- I like you still a lot.
- I know.
For the rest of you lucky few,
to the Witness Room you go.
- Come on.
- Here we go.
Let's fucking go.
I'll take that with me.
They must have ran out of cash
for this part of the house, huh?
In procession, man.
Nice decor.
Oh, shit.
Fucking move there.
Holy moly.
What they got in there?
Listen, what is this house?
I can't see shit.
What is this? Is it like
a peep show or something?
Oh, shit.
Too bad Ula's on the wrong side.
- Ooh!
- Funny, bitch.
- El Shocker!
- One...
- Get it, girl.
- Come on, Lonni.
- Team Lonni.
- Whoo!
Yeah, you go, girl.
Hello, Lonni, are you ready
for your first challenge?
- Let's do this.
- This is going to be fun.
That should be Ximena's
challenge.
I'm sure she's a pro.
I wouldn't be talking
about pros, babe.
Just 'cause you're not
on a corner
doesn't mean you're not selling.
Oh, don't worry about that.
Don't worry about that.
The challenge is quite simple.
You must break open the piata
and retrieve what's inside.
Then using an identical piata,
Nevin will do the same.
Whoever's fastest, wins.
Good luck to you.
- This is fine. It's fine.
- Easy one.
- Go, Lonni.
- Give her the bat.
They didn't even give her
the bat.
The piata's going away.
Very funny, guys.
- What the fuck?
- Wow!
Is that Nevin?
He's got a fucking gag
in his mouth.
What the fuck?
- This is a joke.
- Well, what if...
Oh, hey, hey, hey.
- No, for real. Lonni.
- Lonni, stop!
- Lonni!
- It's fake.
You guys are so gullible, man.
Relax.
- No!
- Fuck.
- What the fuck?
- Lonni!
Stop!
No, stop!
Dammit!
Hey!
Stop it, man!
- Turn that off! Turn that...
- No. No, no, no.
- Yeah, no.
- That's crazy.
Relax.
Like, it's not even real.
No! Lonni!
Well done, Lonni.
You can take off
your goggles now.
This is fucked.
Oh, my God!
This isn't happening.
Where's he going?
- Fuck.
- Come on!
Wasn't that fun?
What the fuck is going on here?
Isn't it obvious?
Who are you?
What is this place?
What the fuck are you?
The question is not what am I?
But it's what are you?
All of you?
I wanna go home.
Now, see, Ula,
this is your home now,
except only one of you
will ever leave.
- Ximena, come on!
- Why are you doing this?
All will be revealed
in due time.
But until then you will
continue to live in the house,
until another vote is tallied
and another challenge is met.
If you refuse to participate,
if you try to escape,
if you do not comply
in any way,
a fate far worse
than Nevin's awaits,
I assure you.
The horror and the pain
will be unlike anything
you could possibly imagine.
So, you must complete
your obligation
and finish what you've started.
So, put on a happy face!
Get the audience on your side!
Win their hearts,
and more importantly,
their votes, for your fate
is in their hands.
Now, would you all please
kindly adjourn to the Funhouse?
Have yourselves a drink.
You've earned it.
Especially you, Lonni.
Up next, Furcas's House of Fun,
or what is now simply being
called Funhouse,
turned into a nightmare
last night,
when famed YouTube diva,
Nevin Eversmith
was beaten to death
by season 18 bride-to-be,
Lonni Byrne.
Personally,
the only nightmare I see here,
is that people are actually
eating up this shit
and asking for seconds.
I mean, sure,
I've wanted to use Nevin
as a human piata,
and beat him
with a spiked baseball bat,
but who hasn't?
And unfortunately,
I'd go to jail.
Sorry, Funhouse, not buying it.
I accept thee
as my Lord and Savior...
assured of thy mercy
as long as I may live.
Oh, Holy God.
Oh, Holy Death, Holy.
So, what're we gonna do, huh?
Let's get the fuck out.
This is online.
The cops had to see that.
Do you see
any cameras here, huh?
Slowdown. Just relax.
Relax? Did you see
what just fucking happened?
- She murdered Nevin, man!
- Shut up!
Nobody murdered anybody!
She didn't even fucking know.
Whatever, it doesn't matter.
Let's go.
Hey. Hey.
There's a way out of here.
I can see the fucking sky.
Are you deaf, you fucker, huh?
Did you not hear what he said?
We break the window, we climb,
and we fucking run.
This ain't no plexiglass,
trust me.
Just chill. We've gotta think.
Hey! You stay if you want.
I'm out.
Maybe he's right.
It looks like a way out.
We can't just sit here.
- He's watching us.
- Oh, yeah? Let's find out.
- No!
- Hey, you fucking, fuck...
- Watch this, you fuckers!
- No!
It's a projection.
No, shit.
- What is this place?
- This place is your home.
And I was very clear
on what would happen
if you tried to leave.
Unfortunately, Dex has now
forfeited his spot in the house
and will no longer be eligible
for the five million dollars.
Oh, no.
Dex, kindly
- follow them, please.
- What are you gonna do?
You gonna shoot me, huh? Huh?
No, please.
Fuck!
Dex! Dex!
Please... help me!
Mother of God, please. Please.
My God, what's happening?
- Please!
- What is that shit?
That shit
is fluoroantimonic acid.
It's an inorganic compound
created
by reacting hydrogen fluoride
with antimonic pentafluoride.
According to the Hammett
acidity function,
it's the most corrosive
substance on earth.
When mixed with water,
the chemical reaction
will dissolve flesh and bone
within minutes.
- Have fun with that, Dex!
- Wait!
- They're not doing that.
- Oh.
Oh, my God!
A horrific spectacle
has been unfolding
on the internet this week,
broadcasting live to the world.
Authorities have yet to comment
on the video's authenticity.
What started
as an online reality series
is now a nightmare for a group.
What appears
to be a macabre contest,
eight celebrities compete
to survive...
And what we know so far,
is that the eight contestants
flew into Los Angeles
four days ago,
and then vanished.
Whether a sadistic game
or an elaborate hoax,
the show's popularity
continues to skyrocket
even after two people
have allegedly been murdered.
Authorities are currently
trying to locate the source
of what has now been confirmed
to be a live video feed
from inside the house.
Just kill him already!
Oh,
I'm sure he's on his last legs.
No!
So, take a good look
and understand this,
which now I reiterate
for the second time.
There will be no heroes here.
No fantastical plans to escape.
No happy ending.
If you don't play the game
and abide by its rules,
this will be your fate.
But rest assured, next time
it won't be as quick and easy.
You can expect much more pain.
Much more suffering.
So, focus your energies
on accumulating votes,
for it is the only way
out of here.
Hey, kids. The word of the day
is fluoroantimonic acid.
And our good, ole pal,
El Shocker,
took one hell of a bath.
El Shocker, El Shocker
- Really?
- You know.
I mean,
I can create a better CG
with my Instagram filters.
- Then what?
- Fake!
This can't be happening to me.
Well, I hate
to break it to you, girl...
because it's happening
to all of us.
Not just
to poor, little Miss Instagram.
But look at the bright side.
You and the twins are racking up
millions of followers by now.
- Fuck you.
- What's up?
You don't like the exposure?
Isn't that how you make
a living?
Showing your tits and ass
for the world to see.
Yeah, and you blog about her
showing her tits and ass,
and about me, and Lonni,
and anyone else
you feel so inclined
to lie about.
I don't lie, man.
I report the news you make
by doing stupid ass shit.
Stupid ass shit
like living my life?
You love to watch people
crash and burn,
- and you fucking exploit it.
- I give people what they want.
I give people a closer look
into the fake fucking lives
that you choose
to show the world.
That's what I do.
Dex and Nevin are dead.
And you're bickering
about this bullshit?
- You people are insane.
- And annoying as fuck.
Now, I think all of youse
need a time-out.
Now, who wants a drink?
I'm buying. Kaz? Come on.
I don't know
if anyone is watching...
or if this is some sick game.
Or a nightmare.
How is anybody expected to speak
after witnessing that?
You know,
I've seen a lot of crazy shite
in my life,
but, uh, this takes the cake.
Please, somebody help us.
I saw them die.
We don't deserve this.
We're still people with a soul,
and we're still human beings.
I don't wanna die.
To Nevin's family,
I didn't know. I'm so sorry.
I have one thing
to say to you, Furcas.
Go to hell.
Fuck you.
You cowardly piece of shite.
Goodbye.
And now, for a unique
perspective on these events,
we turn to Grammy Award-winning
pop artist, Darla Drake,
who was once married
to Kasper Nordin,
one of the contestants
currently inside the house.
Darla, thank you for joining us
during what I'm sure
is an extremely difficult time.
I just can't believe something
like this is happening.
It's... it's beyond words.
To the people
who are doing this...
Kasper is a good man.
He's never done anything
to hurt anyone.
None of these people have.
Please, if you're listening,
just let them go.
And also, to the public
who is watching
and voting on this.
These are people's lives
that you're playing with.
You have to stop
perpetuating this.
Somebody has to stop this.
But what if their votes,
or your vote,
could help save Kasper?
So, an Irishman, a Mexican,
a Filipino, a Swede,
and an American walk into a bar.
There's gotta be a punch line
in there somewhere.
- That was nice.
- What?
To laugh.
Well, let's keep it going, then.
Fuck him.
All right. Does any of youse
know any jokes? Kasper?
All right. I had a joke once...
about yodeling.
It went horribly.
Then let's just talk.
Yeah, we should at least
get to know each other
before we die.
Sorry.
What's the topic
of the discussion?
How about... what was it like
being married to Darla Drake?
Boom.
I'm kidding, man.
It's a really bad joke.
No, no, no, I like this topic.
I'm sorry, Ghost,
but I'm a big fan of hers.
Okay, so,
what do you wanna know?
About her shoe size.
And her thoughts
on the climate change.
What do you think I wanna know?
How about start
with how you met?
It was three years ago.
I had just moved to L.A.,
and I was playing
this little gig
at a bar on Sunset.
And one night, Darla showed up.
This was just
before she blew up,
so, I didn't know who she was.
And, um, after the show,
she came up to me.
And to this day, I...
I still can't believe
that she was talking to me.
We closed up,
walked down the street...
talking till the sun came up.
And...
I fell in love with her
right there
on the street.
Two months later
I'm on tour with her.
And three months later
we're married.
It all just happened so fast.
And what age were you
when you got married, 12?
- I was 19.
- Oh.
I guess, young and dumb
really is a thing, huh?
For the record,
the whole backup singer thing
started as a joke.
I was never her backup singer.
She just pulled me up
on stage one night,
just to mess with me.
Headlines. "Pop star falls
for backup singer."
Totally fabricated.
And then we did that stupid
reality show.
And I said I would never
do that again.
And here I am...
again.
Only this time for the money.
Hey,
go easy on yourself, Ghost.
All right,
we're all here for the money.
I spent last summer living
in my car,
so, I can see
how five million dollars
could come in handy.
Well, if I win.
And if you lose,
all your problems
will be gone anyways.
So, it's a win-win?
If Furcas actually
gives the winner five million.
I don't know
about that Furcas guy,
he seems a bit sketchy,
if you ask me.
- Yep.
- You guys having fun?
You all gonna die.
Hilarious.
And what are we supposed
to do instead, babe?
Sit around, sleep, bitch,
cry all day.
Please tell us,
how's this working out for you?
Sorry to interrupt
this riveting conversation,
but the results are in.
I do, however,
have some exciting news.
Since Dex's untimely death,
the viewership
has risen fivefold,
so, a big congratulations
is in order to all of you.
Now, without further ado,
let's find out who.
Nice work, Cat.
It seems, sometimes,
less truly is more.
Lonni, second last
to second place.
Perhaps the mental anguish
you suffered
after disposing off Nevin
in such a gruesome,
yet entertaining fashion,
made you a more sympathetic
character.
You're a piece of shit.
Please refrain
from the clever comments
for the time being, Mr. Nordin.
Third place
is still respectable.
Next, we have Headstone
in fourth,
but look here,
a Funhouse first,
a tie for the bottom two.
There is no way
I tied that bitch.
Okay. Keep talking, stupid.
- Go on, say it.
- Fuck you.
- Go to hell, skank!
- I don't understand you!
Go fuck yourself, stupid!
Ladies, please,
this is very unbecoming.
However, this next challenge
may be just the thing
to help you work
through these issues.
So, let's just see
what your challenge shall be.
Blind Rage.
Well, that sounds fun
and therapeutic.
So, let's all adjourn
to the Kill Room, shall we?
I'm gonna
fucking kill you!
I highly doubt you can outfight
the bullet, Headstone.
- No! No!
- Hey, get your hands off her!
- Hey!
- No!
Fuck!
Welcome
to your Blind Rage challenge.
The rules are simple.
You'll each be given an ax,
the lights will go out,
and you will fight
until one of you is dead.
Please don't do this to us!
There are no pleases here!
You're dead, girl.
You're fucking dead.
It's time to play.
Ready?
Lights out!
Holy shit. Night vision.
Oh, man, she's creeping up.
Shit's about to get real.
Yeah.
Let's go, Ula.
Come on. Watch your back!
Watch your back!
Back up, babe.
Fucker!
She's right there.
I hear you, bitch!
Get up, get up, get up! Get up!
She's there, she's there!
Lose something, bitch?
Go on, pick it up! There!
What a fucking shit day
I'm having.
Say something, you moron!
Say something!
I can't understand you!
Ooh!
Ooh, Jesus Christ.
An ax fight in the dark
between two hot chicks.
Well played, Funhouse.
Well played.
My interest is piqued.
Although, you could've piqued
other parts of me
had they been
more scantily clad,
but choosers can't be beggars
in this crazy world of ours.
Word on the street is, Ximena
has a splitting headache.
Hmm, duck lips.
Yeah.
The question
everyone's asking then,
is why can't authorities find
the source
of the Funhouse website
and where the videos
are being broadcast from?
Yeah, I mean, there's many ways
you can hide
a website's IP address
on the internet.
Typically, they'd use
what's called a Tor network
and a dot onion site.
This will have multiple levels
of encryption
making it virtually impossible
to track down,
but also not easily searchable.
Uh, whoever's behind this,
obviously wants
as many eyes on it as possible,
so,
it has to be on a public domain
and not on the dark web.
Why doesn't the FBI shut down
the website,
so that the public
can't see it?
Taking away the ability
for people to engage.
Yeah, I mean, normally,
they would just blackhole
the... the IP address,
but whoever's behind this
has obviously thought of that.
Um, they're using
a deep-learning virus.
It's a AI of some kind.
Uh, this has, you know,
changing proxies
that act as web servers
popping up
in different countries
all over the world.
Uh, it's called onion routing.
And with this
deep-learning virus,
it frankly makes it impossible
to track down.
Unfortunately,
if I was to guess,
I would say that this show
will continue until...
well, I mean,
until someone wins.
Wake up!
Wake up!
Where are you?
Come on, Headstone.
Come on,
you can't sleep here. Come on.
Fuck off, Ghost!
Can you just let me lay here.
What are you doing?
I was just trying
to get him to bed.
Had a feeling about you two.
Come. Come sit with me, Kasper.
I think I'm gonna head
to bed actually.
You probably should, too.
Why? What do I have to do
tomorrow? Die?
Now, I do understand
the comedy in it.
- I'm gonna die in here.
- Come on, let's get you to bed.
You okay?
Okay, come on.
Come on... it's okay.
- And up. And down you go.
- Stay with me.
Hey, take it easy, okay?
Come on.
- You don't like me, do you?
- Of course, I do.
Then let's do it.
Let's give them what they want.
Maybe they will vote for us.
I'm really sorry,
I can't do that. I can't.
Fucking bastard.
Headstone, Headstone, it's...
Fucking bastard!
Let him go!
You're gonna kill him!
He tried to fuck her!
I've fucking seen you, Ghost!
I fucking saw you!
The wonders of alcohol,
shame, regret, blackouts.
And it almost led to our first
non-challenge murder
in the house.
How's the neck, Kasper?
Well, what a morose group
you all are.
You've certainly taken
the fun out of Funhouse today,
haven't you?
Well, without further ado,
let's find out who.
Wow!
Now, that is indeed a surprise.
Kasper Nordin for the win.
- Quite mind-boggling, actually.
- Fuck you.
And that was quite rude,
but perhaps effective,
considering your vote count.
See, it seems your unwavering
"fuck you" attitude
has made you a crowd favorite.
I mean, we are after all living
in unprecedented times
where ignorance, vulgarity,
and aggression
are all traits to be admired,
so, keep it up!
In second place,
holding strong, is Cat,
followed by Lonni, Headstone,
and finally, Ula.
I guess, even the female form
on full display
can become tiresome.
We are after all living
in the internet age, Ula,
where variety
is just a click away.
Perhaps
you should have focused
on being more genuine.
People love authenticity.
I get it, okay. People hate me.
They love this.
You think it hasn't been
that way my whole life?
Do you think I don't know?
Do you think
I didn't hear everyone talking
about me in school?
Like they still talk about me.
Comment about me.
Like they know me.
"Hey, beautiful." "Hi, darling."
"Hi, sexy."
Whore, bimbo,
skank, gold-digger.
Do you think I don't know?
Well, fuck you!
My name is Ursula Kosmatka.
I don't give a fuck
what you think of me.
Wow. That was authentic, Ula.
That was genuine.
That tugged at the heartstrings.
But unfortunately,
too little too late.
So, let's just see
what her challenge will be.
Forget Me Not.
The Forget Me Not challenge
is a simple variant
of the perennial classic
card game Concentration,
also known as Memory.
You will have two minutes
to match all the card pairs.
If you succeed,
you automatically move on
to the next round.
But if you fail,
well, I strongly suggest
you don't fail.
Your time begins now.
Concentrate!
- Ula, the one on the right.
- Dude, she's probably
- really stressed out right now.
- Aw.
Cut her some slack.
Come on.
Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry!
Keep going! Come on!
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,
five, four, three, two, one.
Time's up!
Wow, what a barn burner.
I really thought
you had it there, Ula,
but I do see how duck face
and fish gape
can easily be mistaken
for one another.
Bring forth the Wheel of Fun!
You'll have one chance
to spin the wheel
and seal your fate.
If you do the math,
you have a 46.7 percent chance
of landing on a Quick & Easy,
which means you will be shot
in the head point blank.
No pain, case closed.
But there's also Pass the Buck,
which means
you pass a new challenge
onto the next lowest contestant
and move on to the next round.
Better odds than any casino,
right?
Now, those other seven spaces,
you'll wanna avoid those
altogether,
the Rat House and Impaler
being especially messy.
If you choose not to spin,
I'll choose
one of the nasty seven for you.
But wouldn't it be nice
to be in charge
of your own destiny?
So, turn that frown
upside down,
spin the wheel,
and paint the town red.
I hope she gets the gun.
Pear of Anguish
sounds pretty interesting.
You're sick. You know that?
The Rack! Ouch! Arguably
the most painful torture method
ever devised.
This is definitely
not your lucky day, Ula.
Prepare her.
- Yes!
- Take her alive!
Ula La More.
Did you know
your true name, Ursula,
derives from the Latin word
meaning strong little bear?
Well, you certainly lived up
to that name today.
You killed a man
with your teeth, like an animal!
Perhaps I didn't give you
enough credit, Ula.
It sure will be a shame
to see you part with us today,
but alas, you cannot stay.
Death lies on her
like an untimely frost...
...upon the sweetest flower
of all the field.
- No!
- Stop!
Look! Look at me! Look at me!
For fuck's... Ula! Hey!
Oh, there goes an arm!
For fuck's sake! God! Fuck!
Funhouse. What the hell?
You go and kill off
the hot Instagram model,
and right after
she bares her soul to us?
I mean, do you even know
who your target audience is?
I was starting
to really like Miss La More,
and then you go
and rip her limbs off.
How can you take selfies
without arms?
Hello, everyone.
I have a surprise for you
waiting by the green door.
- You're a twisted fuck.
- I apologize, Kasper,
we couldn't find
any online pictures
of your parents
due to the fact that they died
in a car crash
when you were just
three years old.
You, however, survived
to become Darla Drake's
ex-husband,
so, that's a nice silver
lining, isn't it?
Well, I hope
this trip down memory lane
has brought some solace
into your otherwise
wasted lives.
I'm sorry about your family.
It just made me realize
that if I die in here,
what difference does it make?
He's right, you know?
I contribute nothing.
- I am nothing.
- Don't you dare listen
to that thing.
I will always be known
as Darla Drake's ex-husband.
That's my legacy.
Believe me, I get it.
You forgot you're talking
to a girl who dated 30 guys
in front of 50 million people,
and was to marry one of them
after knowing him
for, like, a month.
People think I'm shallow.
That I'm a fame whore.
But why? 'Cause we were trying
to find someone to love?
Does that mean
we're not good people?
That we don't contribute?
We got caught up in something.
It's this idea
that we need to be somebody.
I bought into it.
Thought I could find it.
But you... you just fell in love
with a girl
and got caught up in her life.
Big difference.
Social media, tabloids,
celebrities, fame, money,
it's all bullshit.
It's taken us down a dark path,
and it has led us right here.
- I have to explain about Ula.
- No, you don't.
- Yes, I do.
- You don't owe me anything.
And I don't feel right talking
about her...
not now.
If that's the case,
then why do you think
your marriage
to Kasper didn't work out?
I watched Back up Love,
and it seems to me
like you two were made
for each other.
With Kasper,
love was never the problem.
I know this will sound
very trite and clich,
but... it's complicated.
Living under a microscope,
it's... it's complicated.
And he, um... he wanted kids.
And while I knew he would
be an amazing father...
I don't know, I just...
I can't imagine bringing a
child into this world.
Why not?
Turn on the news
and take your pick.
And now, this...
this Funhouse thing.
I just can't believe
what human beings
- are capable of.
- Do you still love Kasper?
I'll always love him.
So, without further ado,
let's find out who.
Congratulations, Kasper.
Personally,
I find you quite abrasive,
but the audience seems
to like you.
Perhaps the chivalry shown
to the recently departed
did not go unnoticed
by the more civilized portion
of the voting audience.
I do feel that some form
of vindication is owed
to Mr. Nordin.
Stay with me.
- You don't like me, do you?
- Of course, I do.
Then let's do it.
Maybe they will vote for us.
I'm sorry, I can't do that.
Fucking bastard.
- Headstone, Headstone, it's...
- Fucking bastard!
Let him go!
- You're gonna kill him!
- He tried to fuck her!
I'm sorry, Ghost.
Now, that we've cleared
the air on that,
back to the count.
We have Lonni in second place,
Cat in third,
and finally, Headstone.
It seems your drunken antics
will only take you so far.
Looks like the one-trick pony
has finally run out of tricks.
Show me the man
behind the puppet
- and I'll show you some tricks.
- All in due time.
For now, let's just see
what your challenge shall be.
Death Match. The audience
shall choose your fate.
Vapula
Sabnock.
Botis.
Orobas.
Voting is open for one hour.
No one's gonna vote
on something like this.
Are they?
- Whoa!
- Those are big dudes,
- man.
- Yeah.
That painting
on their face. Whoo!
- I like that guy.
- Orobas all the way, man.
- That dude right there, Botis.
- No, no, no, no.
Vapula all the way, man.
Come on!
Botis.
Sabnock.
Botis.
The audience has spoken.
Headstone versus Botis
to the death.
If you win,
you continue to the next round.
If you lose, well...
What I say now
is for one person,
and one person only.
My daughter...
...Nina.
When you grow up,
I hope you never witness
what happened in here.
I pray you never see that.
But I do hope that you receive
this message someday,
so, you can understand something
about me.
I tried to be a good father.
Now, I know I wasn't allowed
to be around you very much
because of the bad choices
I made.
Choices that had nothing
to do with you. It was my fault.
I did that to us
and for that I'm ashamed.
I've made so many mistakes.
I have so much rage.
But there's one thing
I did do right, you.
You were the only thing
in my life
that was pure, and good,
and beautiful.
My Primrose Princess
in your wee yellow dress.
Just remember, no matter
what happens in your life,
that your father loved you
more than anything in his.
You are my life... always.
I'll see you later.
And now, this is the moment
fight fans watching
around the world
have been waiting for.
Live
from the Funhouse Kill Room!
A fight to the death
for the undisputed
Funhouse Championship
of the world.
Introducing first, fighting
out of the blue corner,
a mixed martial artist
holding a professional record,
28 wins, six losses,
one no contest,
he stands
five feet ten inches tall,
weighing in at a 170
and one half pounds,
fighting out of
Dundalk, Ireland
James Headstone Malone.
Come on, buddy.
Come on, you got this.
Introducing his opponent,
fighting out of the red corner,
holding a perfect record
of 24 kills, no losses.
He stands
at six feet ten inches tall,
weighing in at 340 pounds,
fighting out of the Seventh
Circle of Hell, Botis!
- Let's go, Botis.
- Why would you cheer for him?
- It's to the death.
- Look at him, he's massive.
Gentlemen,
the rules are very simple.
Fight until one of you is dead.
Begin.
Yes!
- No!
- Oh, yes, Botis! Yes! Yes!
- Come on, asshole!
- Yeah, yeah, yeah!
- You got this, Headstone!
- Come on!
- Tear it out.
- Rip his fucking head off!
Yes!
He fucking did it!
Whoo! Yeah.
A fantastic display
of courage, Headstone.
I'd even hazard a guess to say
that if you absolutely had to,
you could keep fighting.
Well, you absolutely have to.
No! What the hell is this?
No! Headstone!
You're a fucking liar
and a snake!
Okay.
But just one last thing.
You know you're going
to hell for all this. Right?
See, the thing is,
I'm going there, too.
So, I'll be waiting for you.
And I'll teach you
about fucking pain.
Hell is empty
and all the devils are here.
- The bold will die...
- As will the strong.
As legends, we go on.
Come on!
- Come on!
- No! No!
No!
Fucking stop.
Okay, Funhouse,
that was one hell of a fight.
I mean, that Headstone fella
can sure take a beating.
But then again, we Irish
have been taking them
- our whole lives.
- Okay.
Sorry, just a bit of sad
reflection for my people.
Not gonna lie,
I was little disappointed
to see my countryman taken
out that way.
I mean, three on one?
That Furcas son of a bitch
is one bold-faced liar.
Whatever happened to the days
when you could trust the word
of a sadistic, maniacal panda?
A penny
for your thoughts.
I'm just wondering who you are.
What kind of person you are.
What it would be like
to make you suffer.
I mean, I get
that you are a sadistic animal.
A coward
that kills innocent people.
Why do you do this?
Celebrated mediocrity
has become the opiate
of the masses.
Fame with no expertise,
nor talent, nor accomplishment.
It's a sickness
that must be cleansed.
It's madness.
You're important
because you married a pop star,
simple as that.
So, now, you must become
the product which you so covet
in that pathetic life
you have chosen.
I don't buy it.
There's gotta be more to it.
What, Mommy and Daddy
didn't love you enough?
You couldn't get a date
to prom? Or is it chemical?
Fucked up circuits.
A penny for your thoughts.
You are indeed entertaining,
Mr. Nordin.
But see, that's part of it.
Entertainment.
See, I'm doing this
because I must.
Because somebody had to do it.
I mean, death and torture
happen all over the world
every single day
to so called innocent people.
But see, no one really cares
unless it happens
to a specific group of people,
of a specific color,
in a specific country.
So, I bring it to them live,
unedited, authentic, without
commercial interruption.
And perhaps
you're not as innocent
as you thought you were.
See, it's what you represent
that is the problem.
This new
Kardashianization of humanity.
The big decline.
You are part of a condition
fueled by entertainment.
News is entertainment,
politics is entertainment,
war is entertainment,
and your death, no matter
how insignificant that may be...
is entertainment.
Sure, some will weep for you,
others will laugh,
but make no mistake,
the vast majority of people
who watch you die
will feel absolutely nothing.
If you die in this house,
the people that watch will go
to bed the same at night,
wake up the next morning,
and go about their lives
like you never even existed
at all.
And then they'll find
the next new, shiny object.
That is entertainment.
In the end,
we are all just animals, Kasper,
primitive and self-serving
until that very end comes.
So, all that garbage
you just spouted,
makes you, what, our judge,
jury, and executioner?
It justifies murder?
Oh, human beings love murder.
We love violence.
We love death.
On television in this country,
a woman's breasts
are more censored
than a slit throat,
the word fuck
more than a severed head.
And look no further
than any comment thread
of any social media platform
to see how quickly
a harmless debate
can devolve into aggression,
violence, and hate.
What I'm saying is, Mr. Nordin,
that same instinct lies
in both you and in I.
Except I choose to embrace it.
I hate to tell you this...
but that thing
that lives in you... has never,
and will never live in us.
Oh, I'm betting that it does...
and that it will reveal itself
very, very soon.
Well, don't I feel like
the third wheel here.
How about I give you two
some privacy?
Good talk.
Look, I, um...
I'm glad you're here.
Oh, no. That...
Here, just...
I just mean, I'm glad
I got the chance to know you...
even if it was in here.
Me, too.
Sure wish it could have been
someplace else, though,
like a grocery store.
Hmm. Okay.
You're nobody
You're nobody...
Oh.
And then there were three.
You've come so far...
Save your breath, asshole.
Just get on with it.
Well, someone certainly woke up
on the wrong side of the bed.
Mind you, a bed that
wasn't used
for much sleeping last night,
but I digress.
So, at the behest of Kasper,
without further ado,
let's find out who.
And again,
it's Kasper Nordin by a nose,
followed closely by Lonni.
It appears,
last night's erotic escapade
may have paid off,
star-crossed lovers.
And then we have Cat,
the quiet queen of cute.
Looks like that routine
has finally worn thin,
so, let's just see
what your challenge shall be.
Chess Master.
This should be right
up your alley, Cat.
Found it. Grady, Oklahoma.
Welcome
to the Chess Master challenge.
If you are victorious,
you will receive a free pass
to the next round.
But if I win, you must spin.
Any questions?
Then ladies first.
Ah, Grunfeld.
Very interesting. Not bad,
but not very original
for a grand master.
Knight to king's bishop three.
Pawn to king's knight three.
Bishop to king three.
Impressive.
Bishop to queen's bishop five.
Check.
Knight to king six.
Check.
Knight to queen's bishop six.
Check.
Rook to queen's bishop six.
Checkmate.
Well played.
Clearly, you were influenced
by Byrne versus Fischer 1956.
Game of the century.
You are truly formidable.
I mean that sincerely.
But still you did not win,
so, you must spin.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Cat Zim has passed the buck.
Another Funhouse first.
This means a new challenge
will be passed
onto Lonni Byrne.
Get out of my way. It's over.
Get out of my way!
- Let me take her place.
- That's not how this works.
Please, just let me
take her place.
A valiant gesture, Mr. Nordin,
- but there are in fact rules.
- You make the rules!
What do you fucking care?
Please, just let me do
the challenge.
You are indeed
a pestilent little fuck,
Kasper Nordin.
But seeing as I do love
a good Harlequin romance,
and this situation definitely
has all of the trappings of one,
albeit dripping with cheese,
still I will allow you
to take her place.
No, no, no.
No, you can't do this.
- No, you're not doing this. No!
- It's okay. It's okay. Shh.
It's okay.
Kasper Nordin, let's just see
what your challenge will be.
Pistols At Dawn! How exciting.
But who will you face?
I know, Lonni Byrne!
What? No, no, no. Fuck you!
We had a deal! We had a deal!
I told you
there would be no heroes here,
and there certainly
would be no martyrs. Like
you said, I make the rules!
If you had just kept
your filthy trap shut, Kasper,
we wouldn't be in this
position, would we?
Now,
you will each receive a pistol.
Stand back-to-back.
On my count, take ten paces,
turn, and fire.
If you fail to participate,
or if you refuse to fire,
you'll each have to face
the wheel.
Take your pistols
and positions, please.
Or...
...if you prefer,
we could always put Lonni
in the Brazen Bull,
cook her alive,
and then force feed-her to you
for dinner. Totally your call.
It's okay.
It's okay.
Goodnight, goodnight.
Parting is such sweet sorrow,
so, I shall say goodnight
till it be morrow.
On my count. One...
- Two.
- ...two...
three...
four...
five...
six...
seven...
eight...
nine...
ten.
Get back! We've got a Bomb!
Get the Bomb Squad!
We have a winner!
Cat Zim!
Well, it's all over
but the proverbial crying,
culminating
in a Shakespearean tragedy
for the ages.
Personally, I think
Kasper and Lonni,
should have turned their guns
on those dirty pandas
and shot their way out
Butch and Sundance style,
made their way down to Vegas
and gotten married.
But then again,
those pandas had machine guns.
And then the one
who doesn't even speak
wins the whole thing?
I guess, less truly is more.
Or maybe
it was the masturbating.
Who knows?
Pete Sake, out.
Cat Zim,
the lone survivor
of the horrific reality series,
Funhouse,
was found this morning
by a motorist
on the remote road
near the town of Florence,
on the Oregon coast.
The grisly discovery
was made by the FBI SWAT team
who raided the compound.
The device,
which was initially believed
to be a bomb,
was later found
to be a decoy server,
planted by the culprits
to divert authorities
from their trail.
As of now,
there are still no suspects
in the case.
Welcome back
to the Chuck Thorn Show.
I've been speaking with
tech titan, Nero Alexander,
owner of over 70 companies,
ranging from construction,
to biofuels, pharmaceuticals,
AI, and now,
even nanotechnology.
Nero, now, you've accomplished
what so few entrepreneurs have.
You've built an empire
with literally no help
from anyone.
You didn't inherit any wealth,
whatsoever. And at one point,
you were the youngest
self-made billionaire,
that's with a B, on the planet.
I'm semi-retired now.
I'm trying to have more fun.
So, to all the budding
entrepreneurs
out there that look up to you
as an example
of what's possible,
what do you say to them?
I just feel the majority
of the youth today
want something for nothing.
They want fame and fortune
for really doing
as little as possible.
It's the scientist
who's the role model,
the physicist, the engineer,
the inventor.
Not someone
whose only contribution
to humanity is a sex tape,
or a reality TV show,
or millions
of social media followers.
I mean, it's madness.
So, I guess, I would say,
do something that contributes
to society.
I know I have.
Cat Zim.
Why, you are indeed
full of surprises, aren't you?
Did you have fun?
Yes.
But next time...
I'm not letting you win
at chess.
How many votes
Is one life worth
Before you rest
Into the earth
Pain is all you ever see
Hate will let
The one will leave
How many likes for a life?
Decency is under the knife
All media is social now
A multi-media pile drive
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Beyond the door
The killer awaits
Spin the wheel, seal you fate
Miss the rack, best of luck
Pray to God
You pass the buck
Ignorance has swept
the nation
Closer to annihilation
A remedy is on the line,
Welcome to the bigger crime
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Yes, Gary speaking.
Nevin? No, he's on some show,
Funhouse something.
What?
He's dead?
Human piata?
That's fucked up.
Uh, did we still get the 100K?
Fuck me.
Can I have another Mai Tai?
Let go!
- Oh, my...
- God! No!
- Now, get up!
- No!
No.
Please! No, please! No, no!
- You're not finished.
- No. No, please.
There are no pleases here.
We had a deal. Remember?
I dictated the terms,
you named your price,
and then you willingly
committed murder.
While this has provided me
a brief reprieve
on an otherwise banal Tuesday,
you still
have one final obligation.
Also, something tells me
those crocodile tears
are going to dry
right up the second
you walk out of here
and start spending.
I mean, for people like you,
that's a given.
Now, come on, you can do it.
Put it where it belongs.
On the ground.
Now, see,
that was not so hard, was it?
Clean her up,
give her the money,
and get her
the fuck outta here. Jesus.
Kasper Nordin.
Welcome
to Furcas's House of Fun.
Please get dressed
and make your way
to the common room
for some food and refreshments.
Hope you have fun!
Big news, Kaz.
I got something very interesting
in the pipe for you.
It's a new reality series
- called...
- You gotta be kidding me!
And hang on.
You win, you get five million.
I just wanna move on, okay?
Mainstream.
No more of this reality shit.
Look, Kaz,
it's not like producers
are kicking down
my door for you.
These guys asked
for you by name.
- Why? Because of Darla?
- Who cares?
You and Darla did a show
together. People know your face.
People hate my face.
That show was the stupidest
thing I ever did.
That's 'cause it was about her.
This time it's about you.
It's redemption time.
I think it sounds
pretty sketchy to me.
Hello, mate.
What's the craic with you?
Hey. What happened?
How come everyone says that
when they come out here?
What kind of show is this?
They drugged us.
Woke up me fucking skivvies,
some voice on high saying,
"Get changed
and proceed to the common room."
These people are getting so sued
believe you me.
You've never been
drugged before?
Yeah, but of my own volition,
and at my own discretion,
and not in this outfit.
What have they done
with me clothes?
They choose our clothes,
that was in the contract.
Well,
at least give me some variety.
Spice of fucking life.
Not the same
ten quim-pink shirts every day.
- Slainte!
- Wh... where are we?
Welcome
to Furcas's House of Fun.
Hello? Anyone in charge?
I'm pretty sure kidnapping
is illegal, yeah?
He's tried this
three times already.
- Yo, mate, nobody's coming.
- Get fucked.
What the fuck
did you just say to me?
I didn't know.
I said, "What the fuck
did you just say to me?"
Sorry, mate, I am, uh,
clinically claustrophobic.
Might even suffer from a smidgen
of the ole Tourette's, yeah?
I'm just fucking with you.
I'm just fucking with you.
Irish sense of humor.
Fucking legendary.
- Is there a phone?
- No phones.
Took our mobiles as well.
So, you can kiss
that social media hot streak
goodbye.
It's all in the contract.
What's the last thing
you remember?
Getting in the limo
after the airport
and then...
...lights out.
- Woke up here.
- Yeah. Ditto.
And you lot are all right
with all this?
Wow, you've never
been knocked out before?
- You'll be fine, man.
- Fucking mental.
For five million quid,
I'm all right with it, mate.
- Do you want a drink?
- Uh, yeah.
I know you.
Yeah, you're that guy.
- Kasper, Kasper, Kasper, uh...
- Nordin.
Kasper Nordin. You were married
to that girl, um...
- Darla Drake.
- Darla fucking Drake.
You guys had that show.
Back up Love.
Back up fucking Love!
Oh, you lucky son of a bitch,
yeah. Beautiful girl,
great voice, nice set of...
Fucking...
Look, I'm real sorry, man,
but that song,
"Put Your Heart on the Line,"
oh, that was a solid
fucking tune, man!
Solid fucking tune!
Yeah.
This place ain't bad.
But it's weird.
A hot tub filled with milk.
Amigos, good news.
We found a hot tub.
Yeah. And it's filled with milk.
It's fucking weird.
It's not milk, stupid.
I told you nyuuyoku-zai.
It's Japanese.
Okay, okay, relax, sister.
Breathe.
It's called yukobukake shit.
Who cares?
Who's the big bird?
Oh, shit, it's Kasper Nordin.
It's Kasper Nordin, man.
- No way? Never heard of him.
- I'll give you a hint.
Don't waste my time
Or you'll never be mine
Put your heart on the line
Put your heart on the line
- Nah.
- He's fucking
- Darla Drake's ex-husband, man!
- Oh, yeah! Good for you.
Yeah. Can we move on?
Can I get my drink, please?
Scotch.
Hi, everyone.
Ula La More.
- Ximena.
- Ula.
- Hi, I'm Ula.
- What's up?
- Hi. Ula.
- Ooh-la-la, yes, you are.
- I'm Dex.
- Hi, Dex.
Hi. I'm Ula.
I know. I, uh,
follow you on the Insta.
Cool.
Can someone tell me
where the producers are, please?
I take it you don't like
being drugged either?
I scoured the entire flat.
Couldn't find a camera,
a director,
not even a bloody PA.
- Can't get outside neither.
- This is not good.
Hi, I'm Nevin.
I'm claustrophobic, clinically.
- No shit?
- "El Shocker"?
Yeah. This guy knows what's up.
Put her there, Daddy!
I thought you was dead.
Yeah.
Welcome
to Furcas's House of Fun.
Now, broadcasting live
to the entire world.
Streaming 24/7,
seven days a week,
with no commercial
interruptions.
High stakes, high drama...
...anything goes.
It's the ultimate
in online-reality-fun,
where you, the global audience
must decide who is sent
packing,
and who takes home
the five million-dollar
grand prize.
So, without further ado,
let's meet our contestants.
Ula La More!
Yeah, boy!
Dropped from heaven
straight to Warsaw, Poland...
...Miss La More now resides
in the City of Angels
- where she boasts more than...
- Woo-hoo!
...eight million
Instagram followers
and spends her days
working out,
hanging out, and going out.
- Yo, is that...
- Ula La More.
What is this?
It's that, um, Funhouse thing.
It's a show.
...And yolo-ing the hell
out of the Funhouse
for all to see!
- James Headstone Malone.
- Oh, motherfucker...
He's a mixed martial artist,
hailing out of
Dundalk, Ireland.
After crushing skulls
on the hit reality series,
The Warriors Way,
the Irish prince of pain
took a run at MMA gold...
I'm the fucking future!
...but unfortunately,
fell short.
Retired since 2016,
Headstone still enjoys
hitting the gym,
hitting the bar,
and hitting other people.
Hey, man...
Cat Zim.
The Filipino killer from Manila
was a star
on the short-lived series,
The Real Wiccans of Westchester,
but now, only dabbles
in the dark arts
as a solo performance artist.
This quiet queen of cute
also holds the honor...
...of being the youngest female
chess grand master in history.
The man simply known as Dex.
After making a splash
on the hit
reality show spin-off,
Santiago Shore,
this Chilean troubadour
joined the rap game
where he dropped the hit
of the one-wonder variety,
"El Shocker."
This ends right here
And it's called El Shocker
- El Shocker, El Shocker...
- That never gets old.
Lonni Byrne. The
lonely lass of Boston, Mass.
I'm the bride-to-be.
The season 18
bride-to-be
is notorious for dumping
27 men,
only to be left at the altar
twice during the final rose,
a Bride to Be first.
I think you're incredible,
but... I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
This titillating temptress
is known not only
for her rare beauty, but also
her extracurricular antics,
which have landed her
in the hot seat
on more than one occasion.
- Hey...
- This one
can definitely hold her own
with the boys, and then some.
Nevin Eversmith.
What's up, YouTube?
It's your boy,
Nevin Eversmith coming
at you again.
This British baculum of bombast
is a YouTube sensation
whose ironic claim to fame
is talking
about and rating viral videos,
chalking up more than ten
million subscribers
in the process.
Not to mention, making
a few viral videos of his own.
Fucking hell...
- Ximena Torres.
- What's up, guys?
Just over the border in Tijuana
is where this lethal Latina
resides.
She's Mexico's number one
blogger
on all things pop culture,
and has proven time and again
that social media hazing truly
is mightier than the sword.
Watch your back, amigos,
'cause I'm always watching.
- What are you watching?
- I'm watching a program.
- Funhouse.
- Funhouse?
Celebutants, take heed
and keep your nose clean,
otherwise, she's got you
in her sights.
Careers have been made
and destroyed
by the stroke of her key.
Hi, Kasper. Poor thing.
Just ask our last contestant.
Last and possibly least,
just kidding,
is Stockholm,
Sweden's favorite orphan,
Kasper Nordin.
This crooning Casanova
struck pay dirt
when he landed
a job singing backup
for pop's hottest princess,
Darla Drake.
- Put your heart on the line
- Put your heart on the line
Darla fell hard
for the Swedish chansonnier
and as fast as you could say,
"Put your heart on the line,"
the two lovebirds were married
and had their own reality show,
Darla and Kasper, Back up Love.
After the inevitable split,
Kasper had a very brief
solo career
and is now trying his hand
at acting.
Freeze, buster!
It's not worth it.
It so is!
City life.
We can't wait to see
what he has in store
for us next. Hope you have fun.
- Whoo!
- That's fucking deadly, man.
Um, okay,
um... I'm sorry.
It's kind of my job.
- This is a nightmare.
- Savage.
Hello, everyone. I'm Furcas,
and I'll be your guide
during your stay
at my House of Fun.
Unfortunately,
when this is over,
only one of you will be with us
to collect
the five million-dollar prize.
So, do your best to make
sure that person is you.
Every three days,
your loyal viewing audience
will vote to see who stays
and who goes.
The housemate
who receives the least votes
must face
a skill testing challenge.
- But if the vote count...
- Yeah. Whoo!
...is within one percentage
point,
the lowest two will compete
to see who survives.
Any questions?
- Ximena, you look puzzled.
- Yeah. You're not a recording?
No, I'm Furcas, your guide
through the Funhouse.
Any other questions?
- Yes, Nevin?
- Uh, oh, yeah, Furcas, is it?
Yeah, you gave us
a Cosby Cocktail.
- What's that all about?
- That was agreed upon
in your contract. Section 32 C.
I fucking told you.
Yeah. We're not allowed outside.
I'm claustrophobic, you know,
clinically.
So I've heard.
The contract
clearly dictated the terms.
You're confined to the interior
of the house.
If you leave at any time,
you'll be disqualified
and your one 100,000-dollar
entry gift will be revoked.
You'll be monitored
in every room
of the house at all times.
Okay. What about the cameras?
Are they in the bathroom?
The cameras are hidden
throughout the house.
And while using
the bathroom or shower,
your image will be blurred
to the viewing public.
However, if you so choose,
this blurring feature
can be removed
by you at any time.
Once a day,
for at least five minutes,
you must enter
the confession booth
and speak to our viewers
about anything you want.
Other than that,
you can do as you wish
for as long as you're here.
Fuck me, mate!
Don't be creeping like that.
Occasionally,
you'll see helpers
such as this
throughout the house.
They're here to clean,
restock food and drink,
and guide you
through challenges.
You can speak to them
if you wish,
but they will not answer.
They are here only to help.
Then if there are no further
questions, good luck,
and enjoy your stay
at Furcas's House of Fun.
Okay. Is it just me
or is there all kinds of wrong
with everything here?
Right. Who wants a drink?
Two for me.
- Yes.
- Make it double.
So, we're just supposed
to talk then?
Into there?
No, nobody gonna tell us how
Or take us down, whoa..."
Well, look who showed up.
...Yeah, here we go...
- Headstone here.
- Hi, it's me, Ula.
El Shocker, El Shocker
What's up?
It's your girl Ximena Torres,
coming at you live
from the Funhouse.
...We're gonna
have some fun
Let's all get
A little bit higher...
You're dead sweetheart.
Here we go.
Uh, if my agent's watching,
what the actual fuck, Gary?
You know
I'm clinically claustrophobic!
Yeah, you could have told me
we'd be packed in here
like a bunch of lab rats.
...Fire dancer...
Fire dancer
Show me your crown...
Okay, shut up!
...Show me your crown...
I bet you didn't read
the contract, Gary, did ya?
Your one job, mate.
You sit behind your desk,
you read contracts.
It's like they knew
I was claustrophobic
and they used it against me.
Hang on. I'm... I'm in here.
Actually, it reminds me
of a knock-knock joke.
Knock-knock.
Uh, little old lady...
Didn't... didn't know
you could yodel.
Come on, Kaz.
Stakes are too high
for that, man.
I'm a lot better
at telling jokes in Swedish.
Wait, how the hell am I supposed
to update social media
if I'm trapped in here
without a phone, Gary?
Who the fuck is Gary?
You know what? Hashtag
#FuckGary.
Let's get that ball rolling,
yeah?
No "El Shocker"?
Oh, no, no, sweetie.
...Come for you...
Everybody in the house seems...
nice, but with that many
dysfunctional people...
To new friends!
...get ready.
Drama, she's coming.
How do you even do that?
No. Come on!
What's up, guys?
- Don't forget, vote for Ximena.
- Kisses.
Right.
Maybe a half an hour in heaven
before the Devil knows
your dead. Vote Headstone.
Vote Lonni.
Vote Dex, yo.
Vote Ula La More.
You won't regret it.
See you tomorrow.
In the future,
I'm reading the contracts,
that much I can tell you.
Uh, vote Nevin.
I'll probably talk
about something
more interesting next time.
Vote Cat.
Sorry about the joke.
Um, vote for me, anyway.
- Show me that. Yes.
- Why?
- The dude's Swedish.
- And?
Hey, everybody. I'm Pete Sake,
bringing you the best
of the worst to the web.
Up first, the new reality
show abomination
everyone's talking about,
Furcas's House of Fun,
featuring
eight former celebrities,
aka fame whores,
competing to see
who can be the most
cringeworthy,
all the while facing off
for five million dollars.
Something tells me this crew
is gonna make anyone
who actually ate a Tide Pod
feel like a Rhodes scholar.
Should be fun.
So, you're from Boston, huh?
I'm from Grand Rapids,
Michigan, originally.
Went to Boston U
for four years, though.
What did you take?
I am the proud owner of a degree
in Elizabethan literature.
Oh, wow. That's cool.
Cool if you want
a Shakespeare quote.
Not so cool if you want a job
that pays actual money.
Seems to be a lot
of that going around here.
So you are the bride-to-be.
That's my claim to fame.
Or, rather, infamy.
Yeah, well, I can relate.
I thought
I heard voices out here.
My kind of people, huh?
Night owls. I'll bartend.
Well, I'm more of a rooster
these days,
so, you two have at it.
Oh, no. Ugh, no.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, Kasper,
where the hell are you going?
- Oi, it's time for a drink.
- I think I'm also
a little bit more of a rooster
myself.
Roosters? No, no, fuck roosters.
All right? Fuck 'em.
Night owls fly down
with their claws
and kill roosters.
And then eat them.
Well, when you put like that.
Ooh.
Thank you.
Cheers.
The bold will die,
as will the strong.
As legends, we go on.
- Wait. What... what was that?
- What?
- What did you say?
- What?
What are you talking about?
It was a toast
my father used to say.
My father was a hard man.
But he made me
the man I am today...
by beating the ever-living shite
out of me
every day he was alive.
Anyway...
...repeat after me.
- The bold will die.
- The bold will die.
- As will the strong.
- As will the strong.
- As legends we go on.
- As legends we go on.
- Slainte.
- Skoal.
Are you a friendly ghost,
Casper?
Actually,
it's Kasper with a K.
We didn't really
have that cartoon in Sweden.
We had The Moomins, though.
You should check that out.
So, why do they call you
Headstone?
Because I put
people into the earth.
Lay them to rest, so to speak.
Fair enough.
And because it rhymes
with Malone.
It does.
Also,
I have an extremely hard head.
Okay.
So, it's a... a triple entendre
when you think about it, right?
I... I got it.
- Right. Slainte!
- Skoal!
What?
- Just drink.
- Fair enough.
They don't have any
fucking beer around here.
And that's why you always
get a Fluffer, okay?
I will make a note of that.
Yeah.
Hey, my man,
you know what happened
in the ftbol match
Colo-Colo y La U?
Hey. Do you speak Spanish?
Ftbol, you know?
Oh, I got it, I got it.
It's soccer, isn't it?
You know about soccer?
Why do some people
call it soccer
and some football?
Never understood that.
Hello, everyone.
Furcas, how are you doing, mate?
Congratulations on making it
through the first three days
in the Funhouse.
I see friendships were made,
some more than others.
There were some tense moments,
but all in all, it looked
like everyone's had fun,
and that's the name
of the game.
But now, the votes are in,
and, unfortunately,
for one of you,
it's time to say goodbye.
So, without further ado,
let's find out who.
Let's go.
Come on. Come on.
Yeah! Go, Dex! Go, Dex! Go, Dex!
Well, there we have it.
You fucking won.
Three percent.
What in the actual fuck?
Ula taking an early lead.
Looks like turning off
the blur feature in the shower
really helped your cause.
Cat with a strong second,
followed by Dex,
Headstone, Kasper,
and Ximena, a tight race.
Then we have Lonni and Nevin.
But because your votes
are within one percent,
you'll both have to undergo
a challenge
to see who makes it
to the next round.
So, let's just see
what your challenge shall be.
Piata Party!
What?
- Yo, that's racist.
- A little.
Lonni, Nevin,
please follow the helper
- to your first challenge.
- Well...
...let's get this over with.
Bye-bye.
It's because I'm a Limey,
isn't that it?
Yeah, colonialism,
that's what it is.
All right,
you bamboo-munching Muppet,
lets' go. I'll let this happen,
but this is bullshit.
Yeah, number one bullshit.
It ain't 'cause he's British.
It's because he bitches
all the time.
People don't like whiny shit.
But you know what people
do like is T&A.
- Yeah, boy.
- Excuse me?
Oh, nothing. I'm just saying.
Well, I'm just saying,
show them if you got them.
Oh, yes, girl, I got them.
And everything you see
is a 100 percent real.
People voted for me
because I'm a nice person.
- I'm likeable, bitch.
- Ooh.
No, babe,
they voted for you
because you showered naked
in front of millions of people.
But whatever,
that's real classy, ho.
Oh, whoa, whoa.
- I like you still a lot.
- I know.
For the rest of you lucky few,
to the Witness Room you go.
- Come on.
- Here we go.
Let's fucking go.
I'll take that with me.
They must have ran out of cash
for this part of the house, huh?
In procession, man.
Nice decor.
Oh, shit.
Fucking move there.
Holy moly.
What they got in there?
Listen, what is this house?
I can't see shit.
What is this? Is it like
a peep show or something?
Oh, shit.
Too bad Ula's on the wrong side.
- Ooh!
- Funny, bitch.
- El Shocker!
- One...
- Get it, girl.
- Come on, Lonni.
- Team Lonni.
- Whoo!
Yeah, you go, girl.
Hello, Lonni, are you ready
for your first challenge?
- Let's do this.
- This is going to be fun.
That should be Ximena's
challenge.
I'm sure she's a pro.
I wouldn't be talking
about pros, babe.
Just 'cause you're not
on a corner
doesn't mean you're not selling.
Oh, don't worry about that.
Don't worry about that.
The challenge is quite simple.
You must break open the piata
and retrieve what's inside.
Then using an identical piata,
Nevin will do the same.
Whoever's fastest, wins.
Good luck to you.
- This is fine. It's fine.
- Easy one.
- Go, Lonni.
- Give her the bat.
They didn't even give her
the bat.
The piata's going away.
Very funny, guys.
- What the fuck?
- Wow!
Is that Nevin?
He's got a fucking gag
in his mouth.
What the fuck?
- This is a joke.
- Well, what if...
Oh, hey, hey, hey.
- No, for real. Lonni.
- Lonni, stop!
- Lonni!
- It's fake.
You guys are so gullible, man.
Relax.
- No!
- Fuck.
- What the fuck?
- Lonni!
Stop!
No, stop!
Dammit!
Hey!
Stop it, man!
- Turn that off! Turn that...
- No. No, no, no.
- Yeah, no.
- That's crazy.
Relax.
Like, it's not even real.
No! Lonni!
Well done, Lonni.
You can take off
your goggles now.
This is fucked.
Oh, my God!
This isn't happening.
Where's he going?
- Fuck.
- Come on!
Wasn't that fun?
What the fuck is going on here?
Isn't it obvious?
Who are you?
What is this place?
What the fuck are you?
The question is not what am I?
But it's what are you?
All of you?
I wanna go home.
Now, see, Ula,
this is your home now,
except only one of you
will ever leave.
- Ximena, come on!
- Why are you doing this?
All will be revealed
in due time.
But until then you will
continue to live in the house,
until another vote is tallied
and another challenge is met.
If you refuse to participate,
if you try to escape,
if you do not comply
in any way,
a fate far worse
than Nevin's awaits,
I assure you.
The horror and the pain
will be unlike anything
you could possibly imagine.
So, you must complete
your obligation
and finish what you've started.
So, put on a happy face!
Get the audience on your side!
Win their hearts,
and more importantly,
their votes, for your fate
is in their hands.
Now, would you all please
kindly adjourn to the Funhouse?
Have yourselves a drink.
You've earned it.
Especially you, Lonni.
Up next, Furcas's House of Fun,
or what is now simply being
called Funhouse,
turned into a nightmare
last night,
when famed YouTube diva,
Nevin Eversmith
was beaten to death
by season 18 bride-to-be,
Lonni Byrne.
Personally,
the only nightmare I see here,
is that people are actually
eating up this shit
and asking for seconds.
I mean, sure,
I've wanted to use Nevin
as a human piata,
and beat him
with a spiked baseball bat,
but who hasn't?
And unfortunately,
I'd go to jail.
Sorry, Funhouse, not buying it.
I accept thee
as my Lord and Savior...
assured of thy mercy
as long as I may live.
Oh, Holy God.
Oh, Holy Death, Holy.
So, what're we gonna do, huh?
Let's get the fuck out.
This is online.
The cops had to see that.
Do you see
any cameras here, huh?
Slowdown. Just relax.
Relax? Did you see
what just fucking happened?
- She murdered Nevin, man!
- Shut up!
Nobody murdered anybody!
She didn't even fucking know.
Whatever, it doesn't matter.
Let's go.
Hey. Hey.
There's a way out of here.
I can see the fucking sky.
Are you deaf, you fucker, huh?
Did you not hear what he said?
We break the window, we climb,
and we fucking run.
This ain't no plexiglass,
trust me.
Just chill. We've gotta think.
Hey! You stay if you want.
I'm out.
Maybe he's right.
It looks like a way out.
We can't just sit here.
- He's watching us.
- Oh, yeah? Let's find out.
- No!
- Hey, you fucking, fuck...
- Watch this, you fuckers!
- No!
It's a projection.
No, shit.
- What is this place?
- This place is your home.
And I was very clear
on what would happen
if you tried to leave.
Unfortunately, Dex has now
forfeited his spot in the house
and will no longer be eligible
for the five million dollars.
Oh, no.
Dex, kindly
- follow them, please.
- What are you gonna do?
You gonna shoot me, huh? Huh?
No, please.
Fuck!
Dex! Dex!
Please... help me!
Mother of God, please. Please.
My God, what's happening?
- Please!
- What is that shit?
That shit
is fluoroantimonic acid.
It's an inorganic compound
created
by reacting hydrogen fluoride
with antimonic pentafluoride.
According to the Hammett
acidity function,
it's the most corrosive
substance on earth.
When mixed with water,
the chemical reaction
will dissolve flesh and bone
within minutes.
- Have fun with that, Dex!
- Wait!
- They're not doing that.
- Oh.
Oh, my God!
A horrific spectacle
has been unfolding
on the internet this week,
broadcasting live to the world.
Authorities have yet to comment
on the video's authenticity.
What started
as an online reality series
is now a nightmare for a group.
What appears
to be a macabre contest,
eight celebrities compete
to survive...
And what we know so far,
is that the eight contestants
flew into Los Angeles
four days ago,
and then vanished.
Whether a sadistic game
or an elaborate hoax,
the show's popularity
continues to skyrocket
even after two people
have allegedly been murdered.
Authorities are currently
trying to locate the source
of what has now been confirmed
to be a live video feed
from inside the house.
Just kill him already!
Oh,
I'm sure he's on his last legs.
No!
So, take a good look
and understand this,
which now I reiterate
for the second time.
There will be no heroes here.
No fantastical plans to escape.
No happy ending.
If you don't play the game
and abide by its rules,
this will be your fate.
But rest assured, next time
it won't be as quick and easy.
You can expect much more pain.
Much more suffering.
So, focus your energies
on accumulating votes,
for it is the only way
out of here.
Hey, kids. The word of the day
is fluoroantimonic acid.
And our good, ole pal,
El Shocker,
took one hell of a bath.
El Shocker, El Shocker
- Really?
- You know.
I mean,
I can create a better CG
with my Instagram filters.
- Then what?
- Fake!
This can't be happening to me.
Well, I hate
to break it to you, girl...
because it's happening
to all of us.
Not just
to poor, little Miss Instagram.
But look at the bright side.
You and the twins are racking up
millions of followers by now.
- Fuck you.
- What's up?
You don't like the exposure?
Isn't that how you make
a living?
Showing your tits and ass
for the world to see.
Yeah, and you blog about her
showing her tits and ass,
and about me, and Lonni,
and anyone else
you feel so inclined
to lie about.
I don't lie, man.
I report the news you make
by doing stupid ass shit.
Stupid ass shit
like living my life?
You love to watch people
crash and burn,
- and you fucking exploit it.
- I give people what they want.
I give people a closer look
into the fake fucking lives
that you choose
to show the world.
That's what I do.
Dex and Nevin are dead.
And you're bickering
about this bullshit?
- You people are insane.
- And annoying as fuck.
Now, I think all of youse
need a time-out.
Now, who wants a drink?
I'm buying. Kaz? Come on.
I don't know
if anyone is watching...
or if this is some sick game.
Or a nightmare.
How is anybody expected to speak
after witnessing that?
You know,
I've seen a lot of crazy shite
in my life,
but, uh, this takes the cake.
Please, somebody help us.
I saw them die.
We don't deserve this.
We're still people with a soul,
and we're still human beings.
I don't wanna die.
To Nevin's family,
I didn't know. I'm so sorry.
I have one thing
to say to you, Furcas.
Go to hell.
Fuck you.
You cowardly piece of shite.
Goodbye.
And now, for a unique
perspective on these events,
we turn to Grammy Award-winning
pop artist, Darla Drake,
who was once married
to Kasper Nordin,
one of the contestants
currently inside the house.
Darla, thank you for joining us
during what I'm sure
is an extremely difficult time.
I just can't believe something
like this is happening.
It's... it's beyond words.
To the people
who are doing this...
Kasper is a good man.
He's never done anything
to hurt anyone.
None of these people have.
Please, if you're listening,
just let them go.
And also, to the public
who is watching
and voting on this.
These are people's lives
that you're playing with.
You have to stop
perpetuating this.
Somebody has to stop this.
But what if their votes,
or your vote,
could help save Kasper?
So, an Irishman, a Mexican,
a Filipino, a Swede,
and an American walk into a bar.
There's gotta be a punch line
in there somewhere.
- That was nice.
- What?
To laugh.
Well, let's keep it going, then.
Fuck him.
All right. Does any of youse
know any jokes? Kasper?
All right. I had a joke once...
about yodeling.
It went horribly.
Then let's just talk.
Yeah, we should at least
get to know each other
before we die.
Sorry.
What's the topic
of the discussion?
How about... what was it like
being married to Darla Drake?
Boom.
I'm kidding, man.
It's a really bad joke.
No, no, no, I like this topic.
I'm sorry, Ghost,
but I'm a big fan of hers.
Okay, so,
what do you wanna know?
About her shoe size.
And her thoughts
on the climate change.
What do you think I wanna know?
How about start
with how you met?
It was three years ago.
I had just moved to L.A.,
and I was playing
this little gig
at a bar on Sunset.
And one night, Darla showed up.
This was just
before she blew up,
so, I didn't know who she was.
And, um, after the show,
she came up to me.
And to this day, I...
I still can't believe
that she was talking to me.
We closed up,
walked down the street...
talking till the sun came up.
And...
I fell in love with her
right there
on the street.
Two months later
I'm on tour with her.
And three months later
we're married.
It all just happened so fast.
And what age were you
when you got married, 12?
- I was 19.
- Oh.
I guess, young and dumb
really is a thing, huh?
For the record,
the whole backup singer thing
started as a joke.
I was never her backup singer.
She just pulled me up
on stage one night,
just to mess with me.
Headlines. "Pop star falls
for backup singer."
Totally fabricated.
And then we did that stupid
reality show.
And I said I would never
do that again.
And here I am...
again.
Only this time for the money.
Hey,
go easy on yourself, Ghost.
All right,
we're all here for the money.
I spent last summer living
in my car,
so, I can see
how five million dollars
could come in handy.
Well, if I win.
And if you lose,
all your problems
will be gone anyways.
So, it's a win-win?
If Furcas actually
gives the winner five million.
I don't know
about that Furcas guy,
he seems a bit sketchy,
if you ask me.
- Yep.
- You guys having fun?
You all gonna die.
Hilarious.
And what are we supposed
to do instead, babe?
Sit around, sleep, bitch,
cry all day.
Please tell us,
how's this working out for you?
Sorry to interrupt
this riveting conversation,
but the results are in.
I do, however,
have some exciting news.
Since Dex's untimely death,
the viewership
has risen fivefold,
so, a big congratulations
is in order to all of you.
Now, without further ado,
let's find out who.
Nice work, Cat.
It seems, sometimes,
less truly is more.
Lonni, second last
to second place.
Perhaps the mental anguish
you suffered
after disposing off Nevin
in such a gruesome,
yet entertaining fashion,
made you a more sympathetic
character.
You're a piece of shit.
Please refrain
from the clever comments
for the time being, Mr. Nordin.
Third place
is still respectable.
Next, we have Headstone
in fourth,
but look here,
a Funhouse first,
a tie for the bottom two.
There is no way
I tied that bitch.
Okay. Keep talking, stupid.
- Go on, say it.
- Fuck you.
- Go to hell, skank!
- I don't understand you!
Go fuck yourself, stupid!
Ladies, please,
this is very unbecoming.
However, this next challenge
may be just the thing
to help you work
through these issues.
So, let's just see
what your challenge shall be.
Blind Rage.
Well, that sounds fun
and therapeutic.
So, let's all adjourn
to the Kill Room, shall we?
I'm gonna
fucking kill you!
I highly doubt you can outfight
the bullet, Headstone.
- No! No!
- Hey, get your hands off her!
- Hey!
- No!
Fuck!
Welcome
to your Blind Rage challenge.
The rules are simple.
You'll each be given an ax,
the lights will go out,
and you will fight
until one of you is dead.
Please don't do this to us!
There are no pleases here!
You're dead, girl.
You're fucking dead.
It's time to play.
Ready?
Lights out!
Holy shit. Night vision.
Oh, man, she's creeping up.
Shit's about to get real.
Yeah.
Let's go, Ula.
Come on. Watch your back!
Watch your back!
Back up, babe.
Fucker!
She's right there.
I hear you, bitch!
Get up, get up, get up! Get up!
She's there, she's there!
Lose something, bitch?
Go on, pick it up! There!
What a fucking shit day
I'm having.
Say something, you moron!
Say something!
I can't understand you!
Ooh!
Ooh, Jesus Christ.
An ax fight in the dark
between two hot chicks.
Well played, Funhouse.
Well played.
My interest is piqued.
Although, you could've piqued
other parts of me
had they been
more scantily clad,
but choosers can't be beggars
in this crazy world of ours.
Word on the street is, Ximena
has a splitting headache.
Hmm, duck lips.
Yeah.
The question
everyone's asking then,
is why can't authorities find
the source
of the Funhouse website
and where the videos
are being broadcast from?
Yeah, I mean, there's many ways
you can hide
a website's IP address
on the internet.
Typically, they'd use
what's called a Tor network
and a dot onion site.
This will have multiple levels
of encryption
making it virtually impossible
to track down,
but also not easily searchable.
Uh, whoever's behind this,
obviously wants
as many eyes on it as possible,
so,
it has to be on a public domain
and not on the dark web.
Why doesn't the FBI shut down
the website,
so that the public
can't see it?
Taking away the ability
for people to engage.
Yeah, I mean, normally,
they would just blackhole
the... the IP address,
but whoever's behind this
has obviously thought of that.
Um, they're using
a deep-learning virus.
It's a AI of some kind.
Uh, this has, you know,
changing proxies
that act as web servers
popping up
in different countries
all over the world.
Uh, it's called onion routing.
And with this
deep-learning virus,
it frankly makes it impossible
to track down.
Unfortunately,
if I was to guess,
I would say that this show
will continue until...
well, I mean,
until someone wins.
Wake up!
Wake up!
Where are you?
Come on, Headstone.
Come on,
you can't sleep here. Come on.
Fuck off, Ghost!
Can you just let me lay here.
What are you doing?
I was just trying
to get him to bed.
Had a feeling about you two.
Come. Come sit with me, Kasper.
I think I'm gonna head
to bed actually.
You probably should, too.
Why? What do I have to do
tomorrow? Die?
Now, I do understand
the comedy in it.
- I'm gonna die in here.
- Come on, let's get you to bed.
You okay?
Okay, come on.
Come on... it's okay.
- And up. And down you go.
- Stay with me.
Hey, take it easy, okay?
Come on.
- You don't like me, do you?
- Of course, I do.
Then let's do it.
Let's give them what they want.
Maybe they will vote for us.
I'm really sorry,
I can't do that. I can't.
Fucking bastard.
Headstone, Headstone, it's...
Fucking bastard!
Let him go!
You're gonna kill him!
He tried to fuck her!
I've fucking seen you, Ghost!
I fucking saw you!
The wonders of alcohol,
shame, regret, blackouts.
And it almost led to our first
non-challenge murder
in the house.
How's the neck, Kasper?
Well, what a morose group
you all are.
You've certainly taken
the fun out of Funhouse today,
haven't you?
Well, without further ado,
let's find out who.
Wow!
Now, that is indeed a surprise.
Kasper Nordin for the win.
- Quite mind-boggling, actually.
- Fuck you.
And that was quite rude,
but perhaps effective,
considering your vote count.
See, it seems your unwavering
"fuck you" attitude
has made you a crowd favorite.
I mean, we are after all living
in unprecedented times
where ignorance, vulgarity,
and aggression
are all traits to be admired,
so, keep it up!
In second place,
holding strong, is Cat,
followed by Lonni, Headstone,
and finally, Ula.
I guess, even the female form
on full display
can become tiresome.
We are after all living
in the internet age, Ula,
where variety
is just a click away.
Perhaps
you should have focused
on being more genuine.
People love authenticity.
I get it, okay. People hate me.
They love this.
You think it hasn't been
that way my whole life?
Do you think I don't know?
Do you think
I didn't hear everyone talking
about me in school?
Like they still talk about me.
Comment about me.
Like they know me.
"Hey, beautiful." "Hi, darling."
"Hi, sexy."
Whore, bimbo,
skank, gold-digger.
Do you think I don't know?
Well, fuck you!
My name is Ursula Kosmatka.
I don't give a fuck
what you think of me.
Wow. That was authentic, Ula.
That was genuine.
That tugged at the heartstrings.
But unfortunately,
too little too late.
So, let's just see
what her challenge will be.
Forget Me Not.
The Forget Me Not challenge
is a simple variant
of the perennial classic
card game Concentration,
also known as Memory.
You will have two minutes
to match all the card pairs.
If you succeed,
you automatically move on
to the next round.
But if you fail,
well, I strongly suggest
you don't fail.
Your time begins now.
Concentrate!
- Ula, the one on the right.
- Dude, she's probably
- really stressed out right now.
- Aw.
Cut her some slack.
Come on.
Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry!
Keep going! Come on!
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six,
five, four, three, two, one.
Time's up!
Wow, what a barn burner.
I really thought
you had it there, Ula,
but I do see how duck face
and fish gape
can easily be mistaken
for one another.
Bring forth the Wheel of Fun!
You'll have one chance
to spin the wheel
and seal your fate.
If you do the math,
you have a 46.7 percent chance
of landing on a Quick & Easy,
which means you will be shot
in the head point blank.
No pain, case closed.
But there's also Pass the Buck,
which means
you pass a new challenge
onto the next lowest contestant
and move on to the next round.
Better odds than any casino,
right?
Now, those other seven spaces,
you'll wanna avoid those
altogether,
the Rat House and Impaler
being especially messy.
If you choose not to spin,
I'll choose
one of the nasty seven for you.
But wouldn't it be nice
to be in charge
of your own destiny?
So, turn that frown
upside down,
spin the wheel,
and paint the town red.
I hope she gets the gun.
Pear of Anguish
sounds pretty interesting.
You're sick. You know that?
The Rack! Ouch! Arguably
the most painful torture method
ever devised.
This is definitely
not your lucky day, Ula.
Prepare her.
- Yes!
- Take her alive!
Ula La More.
Did you know
your true name, Ursula,
derives from the Latin word
meaning strong little bear?
Well, you certainly lived up
to that name today.
You killed a man
with your teeth, like an animal!
Perhaps I didn't give you
enough credit, Ula.
It sure will be a shame
to see you part with us today,
but alas, you cannot stay.
Death lies on her
like an untimely frost...
...upon the sweetest flower
of all the field.
- No!
- Stop!
Look! Look at me! Look at me!
For fuck's... Ula! Hey!
Oh, there goes an arm!
For fuck's sake! God! Fuck!
Funhouse. What the hell?
You go and kill off
the hot Instagram model,
and right after
she bares her soul to us?
I mean, do you even know
who your target audience is?
I was starting
to really like Miss La More,
and then you go
and rip her limbs off.
How can you take selfies
without arms?
Hello, everyone.
I have a surprise for you
waiting by the green door.
- You're a twisted fuck.
- I apologize, Kasper,
we couldn't find
any online pictures
of your parents
due to the fact that they died
in a car crash
when you were just
three years old.
You, however, survived
to become Darla Drake's
ex-husband,
so, that's a nice silver
lining, isn't it?
Well, I hope
this trip down memory lane
has brought some solace
into your otherwise
wasted lives.
I'm sorry about your family.
It just made me realize
that if I die in here,
what difference does it make?
He's right, you know?
I contribute nothing.
- I am nothing.
- Don't you dare listen
to that thing.
I will always be known
as Darla Drake's ex-husband.
That's my legacy.
Believe me, I get it.
You forgot you're talking
to a girl who dated 30 guys
in front of 50 million people,
and was to marry one of them
after knowing him
for, like, a month.
People think I'm shallow.
That I'm a fame whore.
But why? 'Cause we were trying
to find someone to love?
Does that mean
we're not good people?
That we don't contribute?
We got caught up in something.
It's this idea
that we need to be somebody.
I bought into it.
Thought I could find it.
But you... you just fell in love
with a girl
and got caught up in her life.
Big difference.
Social media, tabloids,
celebrities, fame, money,
it's all bullshit.
It's taken us down a dark path,
and it has led us right here.
- I have to explain about Ula.
- No, you don't.
- Yes, I do.
- You don't owe me anything.
And I don't feel right talking
about her...
not now.
If that's the case,
then why do you think
your marriage
to Kasper didn't work out?
I watched Back up Love,
and it seems to me
like you two were made
for each other.
With Kasper,
love was never the problem.
I know this will sound
very trite and clich,
but... it's complicated.
Living under a microscope,
it's... it's complicated.
And he, um... he wanted kids.
And while I knew he would
be an amazing father...
I don't know, I just...
I can't imagine bringing a
child into this world.
Why not?
Turn on the news
and take your pick.
And now, this...
this Funhouse thing.
I just can't believe
what human beings
- are capable of.
- Do you still love Kasper?
I'll always love him.
So, without further ado,
let's find out who.
Congratulations, Kasper.
Personally,
I find you quite abrasive,
but the audience seems
to like you.
Perhaps the chivalry shown
to the recently departed
did not go unnoticed
by the more civilized portion
of the voting audience.
I do feel that some form
of vindication is owed
to Mr. Nordin.
Stay with me.
- You don't like me, do you?
- Of course, I do.
Then let's do it.
Maybe they will vote for us.
I'm sorry, I can't do that.
Fucking bastard.
- Headstone, Headstone, it's...
- Fucking bastard!
Let him go!
- You're gonna kill him!
- He tried to fuck her!
I'm sorry, Ghost.
Now, that we've cleared
the air on that,
back to the count.
We have Lonni in second place,
Cat in third,
and finally, Headstone.
It seems your drunken antics
will only take you so far.
Looks like the one-trick pony
has finally run out of tricks.
Show me the man
behind the puppet
- and I'll show you some tricks.
- All in due time.
For now, let's just see
what your challenge shall be.
Death Match. The audience
shall choose your fate.
Vapula
Sabnock.
Botis.
Orobas.
Voting is open for one hour.
No one's gonna vote
on something like this.
Are they?
- Whoa!
- Those are big dudes,
- man.
- Yeah.
That painting
on their face. Whoo!
- I like that guy.
- Orobas all the way, man.
- That dude right there, Botis.
- No, no, no, no.
Vapula all the way, man.
Come on!
Botis.
Sabnock.
Botis.
The audience has spoken.
Headstone versus Botis
to the death.
If you win,
you continue to the next round.
If you lose, well...
What I say now
is for one person,
and one person only.
My daughter...
...Nina.
When you grow up,
I hope you never witness
what happened in here.
I pray you never see that.
But I do hope that you receive
this message someday,
so, you can understand something
about me.
I tried to be a good father.
Now, I know I wasn't allowed
to be around you very much
because of the bad choices
I made.
Choices that had nothing
to do with you. It was my fault.
I did that to us
and for that I'm ashamed.
I've made so many mistakes.
I have so much rage.
But there's one thing
I did do right, you.
You were the only thing
in my life
that was pure, and good,
and beautiful.
My Primrose Princess
in your wee yellow dress.
Just remember, no matter
what happens in your life,
that your father loved you
more than anything in his.
You are my life... always.
I'll see you later.
And now, this is the moment
fight fans watching
around the world
have been waiting for.
Live
from the Funhouse Kill Room!
A fight to the death
for the undisputed
Funhouse Championship
of the world.
Introducing first, fighting
out of the blue corner,
a mixed martial artist
holding a professional record,
28 wins, six losses,
one no contest,
he stands
five feet ten inches tall,
weighing in at a 170
and one half pounds,
fighting out of
Dundalk, Ireland
James Headstone Malone.
Come on, buddy.
Come on, you got this.
Introducing his opponent,
fighting out of the red corner,
holding a perfect record
of 24 kills, no losses.
He stands
at six feet ten inches tall,
weighing in at 340 pounds,
fighting out of the Seventh
Circle of Hell, Botis!
- Let's go, Botis.
- Why would you cheer for him?
- It's to the death.
- Look at him, he's massive.
Gentlemen,
the rules are very simple.
Fight until one of you is dead.
Begin.
Yes!
- No!
- Oh, yes, Botis! Yes! Yes!
- Come on, asshole!
- Yeah, yeah, yeah!
- You got this, Headstone!
- Come on!
- Tear it out.
- Rip his fucking head off!
Yes!
He fucking did it!
Whoo! Yeah.
A fantastic display
of courage, Headstone.
I'd even hazard a guess to say
that if you absolutely had to,
you could keep fighting.
Well, you absolutely have to.
No! What the hell is this?
No! Headstone!
You're a fucking liar
and a snake!
Okay.
But just one last thing.
You know you're going
to hell for all this. Right?
See, the thing is,
I'm going there, too.
So, I'll be waiting for you.
And I'll teach you
about fucking pain.
Hell is empty
and all the devils are here.
- The bold will die...
- As will the strong.
As legends, we go on.
Come on!
- Come on!
- No! No!
No!
Fucking stop.
Okay, Funhouse,
that was one hell of a fight.
I mean, that Headstone fella
can sure take a beating.
But then again, we Irish
have been taking them
- our whole lives.
- Okay.
Sorry, just a bit of sad
reflection for my people.
Not gonna lie,
I was little disappointed
to see my countryman taken
out that way.
I mean, three on one?
That Furcas son of a bitch
is one bold-faced liar.
Whatever happened to the days
when you could trust the word
of a sadistic, maniacal panda?
A penny
for your thoughts.
I'm just wondering who you are.
What kind of person you are.
What it would be like
to make you suffer.
I mean, I get
that you are a sadistic animal.
A coward
that kills innocent people.
Why do you do this?
Celebrated mediocrity
has become the opiate
of the masses.
Fame with no expertise,
nor talent, nor accomplishment.
It's a sickness
that must be cleansed.
It's madness.
You're important
because you married a pop star,
simple as that.
So, now, you must become
the product which you so covet
in that pathetic life
you have chosen.
I don't buy it.
There's gotta be more to it.
What, Mommy and Daddy
didn't love you enough?
You couldn't get a date
to prom? Or is it chemical?
Fucked up circuits.
A penny for your thoughts.
You are indeed entertaining,
Mr. Nordin.
But see, that's part of it.
Entertainment.
See, I'm doing this
because I must.
Because somebody had to do it.
I mean, death and torture
happen all over the world
every single day
to so called innocent people.
But see, no one really cares
unless it happens
to a specific group of people,
of a specific color,
in a specific country.
So, I bring it to them live,
unedited, authentic, without
commercial interruption.
And perhaps
you're not as innocent
as you thought you were.
See, it's what you represent
that is the problem.
This new
Kardashianization of humanity.
The big decline.
You are part of a condition
fueled by entertainment.
News is entertainment,
politics is entertainment,
war is entertainment,
and your death, no matter
how insignificant that may be...
is entertainment.
Sure, some will weep for you,
others will laugh,
but make no mistake,
the vast majority of people
who watch you die
will feel absolutely nothing.
If you die in this house,
the people that watch will go
to bed the same at night,
wake up the next morning,
and go about their lives
like you never even existed
at all.
And then they'll find
the next new, shiny object.
That is entertainment.
In the end,
we are all just animals, Kasper,
primitive and self-serving
until that very end comes.
So, all that garbage
you just spouted,
makes you, what, our judge,
jury, and executioner?
It justifies murder?
Oh, human beings love murder.
We love violence.
We love death.
On television in this country,
a woman's breasts
are more censored
than a slit throat,
the word fuck
more than a severed head.
And look no further
than any comment thread
of any social media platform
to see how quickly
a harmless debate
can devolve into aggression,
violence, and hate.
What I'm saying is, Mr. Nordin,
that same instinct lies
in both you and in I.
Except I choose to embrace it.
I hate to tell you this...
but that thing
that lives in you... has never,
and will never live in us.
Oh, I'm betting that it does...
and that it will reveal itself
very, very soon.
Well, don't I feel like
the third wheel here.
How about I give you two
some privacy?
Good talk.
Look, I, um...
I'm glad you're here.
Oh, no. That...
Here, just...
I just mean, I'm glad
I got the chance to know you...
even if it was in here.
Me, too.
Sure wish it could have been
someplace else, though,
like a grocery store.
Hmm. Okay.
You're nobody
You're nobody...
Oh.
And then there were three.
You've come so far...
Save your breath, asshole.
Just get on with it.
Well, someone certainly woke up
on the wrong side of the bed.
Mind you, a bed that
wasn't used
for much sleeping last night,
but I digress.
So, at the behest of Kasper,
without further ado,
let's find out who.
And again,
it's Kasper Nordin by a nose,
followed closely by Lonni.
It appears,
last night's erotic escapade
may have paid off,
star-crossed lovers.
And then we have Cat,
the quiet queen of cute.
Looks like that routine
has finally worn thin,
so, let's just see
what your challenge shall be.
Chess Master.
This should be right
up your alley, Cat.
Found it. Grady, Oklahoma.
Welcome
to the Chess Master challenge.
If you are victorious,
you will receive a free pass
to the next round.
But if I win, you must spin.
Any questions?
Then ladies first.
Ah, Grunfeld.
Very interesting. Not bad,
but not very original
for a grand master.
Knight to king's bishop three.
Pawn to king's knight three.
Bishop to king three.
Impressive.
Bishop to queen's bishop five.
Check.
Knight to king six.
Check.
Knight to queen's bishop six.
Check.
Rook to queen's bishop six.
Checkmate.
Well played.
Clearly, you were influenced
by Byrne versus Fischer 1956.
Game of the century.
You are truly formidable.
I mean that sincerely.
But still you did not win,
so, you must spin.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Cat Zim has passed the buck.
Another Funhouse first.
This means a new challenge
will be passed
onto Lonni Byrne.
Get out of my way. It's over.
Get out of my way!
- Let me take her place.
- That's not how this works.
Please, just let me
take her place.
A valiant gesture, Mr. Nordin,
- but there are in fact rules.
- You make the rules!
What do you fucking care?
Please, just let me do
the challenge.
You are indeed
a pestilent little fuck,
Kasper Nordin.
But seeing as I do love
a good Harlequin romance,
and this situation definitely
has all of the trappings of one,
albeit dripping with cheese,
still I will allow you
to take her place.
No, no, no.
No, you can't do this.
- No, you're not doing this. No!
- It's okay. It's okay. Shh.
It's okay.
Kasper Nordin, let's just see
what your challenge will be.
Pistols At Dawn! How exciting.
But who will you face?
I know, Lonni Byrne!
What? No, no, no. Fuck you!
We had a deal! We had a deal!
I told you
there would be no heroes here,
and there certainly
would be no martyrs. Like
you said, I make the rules!
If you had just kept
your filthy trap shut, Kasper,
we wouldn't be in this
position, would we?
Now,
you will each receive a pistol.
Stand back-to-back.
On my count, take ten paces,
turn, and fire.
If you fail to participate,
or if you refuse to fire,
you'll each have to face
the wheel.
Take your pistols
and positions, please.
Or...
...if you prefer,
we could always put Lonni
in the Brazen Bull,
cook her alive,
and then force feed-her to you
for dinner. Totally your call.
It's okay.
It's okay.
Goodnight, goodnight.
Parting is such sweet sorrow,
so, I shall say goodnight
till it be morrow.
On my count. One...
- Two.
- ...two...
three...
four...
five...
six...
seven...
eight...
nine...
ten.
Get back! We've got a Bomb!
Get the Bomb Squad!
We have a winner!
Cat Zim!
Well, it's all over
but the proverbial crying,
culminating
in a Shakespearean tragedy
for the ages.
Personally, I think
Kasper and Lonni,
should have turned their guns
on those dirty pandas
and shot their way out
Butch and Sundance style,
made their way down to Vegas
and gotten married.
But then again,
those pandas had machine guns.
And then the one
who doesn't even speak
wins the whole thing?
I guess, less truly is more.
Or maybe
it was the masturbating.
Who knows?
Pete Sake, out.
Cat Zim,
the lone survivor
of the horrific reality series,
Funhouse,
was found this morning
by a motorist
on the remote road
near the town of Florence,
on the Oregon coast.
The grisly discovery
was made by the FBI SWAT team
who raided the compound.
The device,
which was initially believed
to be a bomb,
was later found
to be a decoy server,
planted by the culprits
to divert authorities
from their trail.
As of now,
there are still no suspects
in the case.
Welcome back
to the Chuck Thorn Show.
I've been speaking with
tech titan, Nero Alexander,
owner of over 70 companies,
ranging from construction,
to biofuels, pharmaceuticals,
AI, and now,
even nanotechnology.
Nero, now, you've accomplished
what so few entrepreneurs have.
You've built an empire
with literally no help
from anyone.
You didn't inherit any wealth,
whatsoever. And at one point,
you were the youngest
self-made billionaire,
that's with a B, on the planet.
I'm semi-retired now.
I'm trying to have more fun.
So, to all the budding
entrepreneurs
out there that look up to you
as an example
of what's possible,
what do you say to them?
I just feel the majority
of the youth today
want something for nothing.
They want fame and fortune
for really doing
as little as possible.
It's the scientist
who's the role model,
the physicist, the engineer,
the inventor.
Not someone
whose only contribution
to humanity is a sex tape,
or a reality TV show,
or millions
of social media followers.
I mean, it's madness.
So, I guess, I would say,
do something that contributes
to society.
I know I have.
Cat Zim.
Why, you are indeed
full of surprises, aren't you?
Did you have fun?
Yes.
But next time...
I'm not letting you win
at chess.
How many votes
Is one life worth
Before you rest
Into the earth
Pain is all you ever see
Hate will let
The one will leave
How many likes for a life?
Decency is under the knife
All media is social now
A multi-media pile drive
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Beyond the door
The killer awaits
Spin the wheel, seal you fate
Miss the rack, best of luck
Pray to God
You pass the buck
Ignorance has swept
the nation
Closer to annihilation
A remedy is on the line,
Welcome to the bigger crime
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Let's go to the Funhouse!
Yes, Gary speaking.
Nevin? No, he's on some show,
Funhouse something.
What?
He's dead?
Human piata?
That's fucked up.
Uh, did we still get the 100K?
Fuck me.
Can I have another Mai Tai?