Lady Belladonna's Night Shades (2016) Movie Script
1
- Okay, read that back to me, Addy.
- 478 geologists,
27 actors,
18 pop stars,
14 evangelists,
five star athletes,
and one chief justice.
Your numbers continue to rise with
each passing year, Mistress!
And, if I may be so bold,
the deal you made with the
geologists was masterful.
So many souls gained in exchange for an
assortment of petty sinners who wasted
their lives on video games,
comic books and excessive masturbation.
- Well, I never specified
the type of virgin
with which they would spend eternity.
- Brilliant!
- I know.
Anything on Keith Richards?
- Nein, Mistress.
- That contract is going to haunt me
for the rest of my days.
Okay, okay, that's enough.
I need something to bring me down.
Too much happiness tends
to give me heartburn.
Ah, ah, ah...
That's better, isn't it, pet?
Manners are so important,
don't you agree?
- Yeah, Mistress.
- That's enough.
Why don't you go torture
some skinheads now?
- Yeah, Mistress.
- It's so hard to find
good help these days.
So sorry to keep you waiting, my pets.
A Wish Fulfillment Facilitator's job
is never really done,
especially here.
I spend my days brokering contracts
with the greedy and morally conflicted.
It's earned me the title of
Top Soul Broker of the Abyss.
I can't complain, though,
it comes with its privileges but,
it can get a little tedious.
You mortals don't have nearly the
moral conflict your ancestors did.
Sometimes it's just too easy.
And after a long day in the soul mines,
I need a way to unwind,
and the hobby that
fills my blackened heart
the most with absolute
loathing and revoltion
lies within this box.
Maybe you don't recognize this chest,
it once played an important part
in humanity's fall from grace.
It was given to a young
woman named Pandora,
who was told not to open it.
Of course, she did.
My mentor, the insufferable Lilith,
is the mastermind behind that deal.
Give a mortal a box and
tell her not to open it?
Cut and dried.
Truth be told,
she stole that idea from
the big guy himself.
I mean, come on, the whole apple thing?
Genius.
That's not to say the
box wasn't a good idea,
though not as original as
she would like us to believe,
no matter how well it worked.
Anyway, that knit-wit
Pandora opened the box
and through that action the most delicious
sins were released into your world.
We've been having so much fun
with you people ever since.
Here's the thing about sin though,
it abhors a vacuum.
Everybody assumes that once
all that sin was released,
it was a done deal.
Nope.
What they forget is this isn't just
any old box,
it once held all the sins of the world
within its sturdy wooden frame.
That's a lot of power.
It doesn't just dissipate
after it's served its purpose.
You see, Pandora's box likes
being the keeper of sin.
You could say it was
its only real purpose,
and having released the sin into the world
to propagate and grow,
it draws them back like bees to a hive.
And just like those good little bees,
violations, transgressions and misdeeds
must always come home to roost.
This beautiful box holds the
greatest collection ever assembled,
the ultimate manifestation
of my favorite diversion,
the sins of man.
I never really know what the box is going
to present to me each time I peer inside.
It's the ultimate cosmic crapshoot.
But it always fills me with the most
exquisite hopelessness and misery,
the perfect letdown after a long,
gruelingly satisfying day.
Shall we take a peek?
Oh, yes.
This is an exquisite choice.
There is a special category of mankind
I find very distasteful,
thus wonderfully titillating.
The predator, the stalker,
the sinner with no regard for human life.
Those of this ilk are not
cut of the same cloth.
But why mince words?
Let's take a stab at one particularly
penetrating tale I call
The Last Night on Mars.
- It's Up All Night
on Friday Night with me,
The Wolf Man, on WCCC,
channel 43, Las Brisas.
Tonight, we have a horrifying collection
of classic sci-fi B movies.
For our first classic,
that needs no introduction,
without further ado I give you
the monster movie of all monster movies.
- Is someone there?
- Over here.
Over here.
Over here.
- Come on, Jason.
Pull it together.
Now I'm talking in the third person.
- Jason!
- That killed my appetite.
That got in my mind.
It's all in your head.
What's wrong with me?
I'm losing my mind.
There's nothing here.
It's just my imagination.
Get out of my head!
That was easy.
Oh, it's just you.
I thought you were a monster.
- Uh, what?
Go the fuck away, weirdo.
And stop ringing my doorbell.
- My car broke down,
cell phone's dead.
I just need to make a call.
- I'm so sorry, fuck you.
- No, no, no!
- Please, no!
- Shh...
I know.
- Save you for later.
- No!
- Let's get this over with.
I gotta move quickly.
- 911 operator,
what's your emergency?
- Please, please
send somebody quick.
Oh my God, my sister and her friends
are all dead,
please.
- What's your address, ma'am?
- 1878 Mars Avenue, hurry,
I, I don't know if anyone's still here,
I'm so scared.
- We're on our way.
- Sorry, we did all we could.
She just lost too much blood.
- Thank you.
Damnit.
She could've been the one person to ID
this son of a bitch.
- That was definitely
a missed opportunity.
- Ma'am, I'm sorry for your loss,
but I'm gonna have to ask you
a couple more questions, okay?
- Okay.
- Now, you said you arrived
home at 3:20am, correct?
- That's right.
- And you found them in
the back room at 3:25.
- Yeah, that's right.
I can't believe that this
happened to my sister.
I'm gonna have to call my parents
to let them know that she's...
- We've already contacted them,
they're gonna be here tomorrow.
- Okay.
I just hope you catch this son of a bitch.
- We will, don't worry.
Now, we have a squad car waiting outside
and they're gonna take you to your aunt's.
And these two officers
will be with you 24/7
just to make sure you're safe, okay?
- Okay.
- Alright, would you gentlemen get her
something to drink, please?
Damnit.
We've gotta catch this guy.
- This is the third case
we've had like this.
- Yeah.
He's methodical but he's gonna
screw up sooner or later.
Just make sure that you cover this place
for any kind of evidence whatsoever.
- You got it.
- Alright.
Damnit.
- No!
- I'll be right back, don't hurt yourself.
That's my job.
Damnit.
Every time.
I'm right out front and this happens.
What the hell?!
Hello?
Is someone there?
I killed you.
You're dead.
Now you're going to kill me?
- Yes,
Jason, you're going to die.
They'll be more.
- It's so good to be me.
Did you enjoy that little
presentation, my pets?
I did too.
There's something about a strong man
that throws himself into his work
that really turns me on.
Of course...
The high body count helps, too.
Men like that are artists.
There's a special place
in hell for such as he.
And you better believe I'm gonna
get my piece of that action.
But not all killers are
so easy to pin down.
They come in all shapes and sizes.
The best surprises are
those that are unexpected.
Take, for instance,
the ordered and perfectly manicured lives
of suburban housewives.
One might find that sort of thing boring
and dreadfully mundane.
But look beneath the surface
and all manner of horrors can be found.
Like this flawless entry
I like to call Perfect.
- That was delicious as usual, honey!
- Thank you dear, I'm glad you liked it.
- I think I'm gonna tackle that closet
in the hallway today.
- Oh dear, are you sure?
I think id' much rather take on
the garage than that gloomy old closet.
It's so dark back there.
- There's this new invention,
you may have heard of it,
it's called electricity.
And old Mr. Edison started patenting
his new invention the light bulb.
They're gonna revolutionize housework,
mark my words!
- Just what every modern housewife needs,
revolutionary housework.
- The marvels of the modern age!
It is the 21st century, after all.
But, seriously, dear, I've been putting
that closet off for months.
And really it shouldn't take more
than a couple of hours.
Won't it be wonderful to have the
task over and done with?
Never put off 'til tomorrow what
is better done today.
I think Benjamin Franklin said that.
Or Jack the Ripper, I'm not sure.
- You are right, of course.
Just let me tidy up in
here and I'll join you.
- That a girl.
- Slave driver.
- You are so adorable, Mrs. Borden.
- Will you still think I'm so adorable
when I'm 105?
- Well, considering I'll be 108,
I'll still think you're the
hottest gal on the block.
- Perfect answer.
Now, if you're gonna take
on the closet monster
from hell you'd better get to it.
- I'm going, I'm going.
Now who's the slave driver?
- That's Mistress Slave
Driver to you, mister!
- George, are you okay?!
- Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry dear.
That was a little heavier
than I expected it to be.
- You didn't break anything, did you?
- Just my pride.
- Oh, good.
I was afraid it was something important.
- Ouch.
- Perfect.
- George Borden!
If you break something valuable
there's going to be hell to pay.
George?
Don't make me come in there.
George?
Honey?
Are you alright?
Modern marvels, huh?
George?
George, answer me.
Are you okay?
Was that really necessary?
- Was what necessary?
- Why did you have to kill him?
- Him?
- Yes, him!
He was the perfect cover!
Do you have any idea how hard it is
to find a man like him?
A decent man?
The kind of guy that everybody likes?
He wouldn't hurt a fly.
He cried at chick
flicks, for Christ sakes.
Do you know how long
it took me to find him?
Do you?
- Uh, lady,
I don't know what you're talking about
but I wouldn't worry
about him if I was you.
You're next.
You're both just meat to me.
- Wait, did you just say meat?
- That's all you are.
Meat.
- Oh, God.
You're him, aren't you?
- What?
- You're
the Smalltown butcher.
- How did you...?
No I'm not.
- Yes you are, don't deny it.
That mask?
It should've been a dead giveaway,
but you caught me by surprise.
The meat thing though,
that's your calling card.
You carve chunks away from your victim,
dress it with vegetables,
and cook it for the person
who discovers your handy work.
I know all about you.
- Okay.
Let's say I am him, theoretically.
How do you know so much about me?
Him!
I mean, him.
- Followed your work, of course.
I follow everybody's work.
Call it a professional interest.
- You're a fan?
- I wouldn't say that.
You're a little too sloppy for my tastes.
As a matter of fact,
I'm surprised you've gotten away
with it for as long as you have.
Must have some pretty
dense cops in Smalltown.
So what are you doing way
out here in the suburbs, anyway?
This isn't your turf.
- Maybe I needed a change of scenery.
- Well, that simply won't do.
There are rules of conduct, you know.
Even for us.
- What rules?
I don't follow no stinkin' rules.
- And look where it got you.
We all have our own turf
and we do not cross lines,
even an amateur like you should know
how this works.
- To hell with you,
and you rules, cow!
- Language.
Please.
- You're meat,
and I'm gonna tenderize you good.
- You're going to what?
Did you just say you're
going to tenderize me?
- Yeah.
With this.
See?
- Yeah, I see.
Well, it's original.
I gotta give you that.
As is making your attack in the middle
of the morning instead of under
the cover of darkness.
Of course, now I have to think about
the fact that one of my neighbors may have
seen you enter the house.
But listen, I don't have time to tutor
you on the error of your ways.
You have crossed a line, literally.
And now, I have to dispose of you.
- You?
Are going to dispose of me?
- Don't look so surprised.
I have far more experience than you do,
and my body count is much higher.
- What are you talking about, cow?
You're nothing special,
you're just meat.
- Stop it with the meat thing, already.
I don't care if it is your thing,
it is gross and unflattering
and I can't imagine that any of
your victims thought otherwise.
- Die, meat!
- You first.
Amateurs.
Morning started out so good, too.
Perfect, just perfect.
- There's something about strong,
unpredictable women that
really gets my blood pumping.
Be honest,
did you see that one coming?
I mean, I know the competition
is fierce out there.
But it does pay to do one's homework.
- Mistress!
- What is it, Addy,
can't you see I'm entertaining?
- Yeah, Mistress, but I have news.
Very important news.
- Well, spit it out.
- I'm not sure this is the kind
of news you want the
world to know, Mistress.
- These are my guests, pet,
they know that what happens in
the Abyss stays in the Abyss.
Now, what's your news?
- It's all the buzz in the
the sternal pool, Mistress.
- And I care what those
harpies are spouting why?
- It concerns you, Mistress.
- Office gossip does not concern me, pet.
- This does, Mistress, I assure you.
- This had better be bad, Addy,
or I may feed you to Babayonga.
- It's bad, Mistress.
Balthazar has signed a pope.
- A what?
- A pope, Mistress.
- How is that possible?
No one wishes to be pope anymore.
The Metachis and the
Borgia's were the last.
- Not anymore, Mistress.
They're calling him The Black Pope,
though he is only in acolyte now.
They've played out the odds
and it looks like world domination
is in 25 years.
- How is it that I am
just hearing about this?
Anyone with this kind of desire
should've been on my radar.
- It must have slipped
through the cracks, Mistress!
We often overlook the
clergy for obvious reasons.
- The clergy is exactly the group we
should not be overlooking.
How can this get any worse?
- Well, Mistress,
there is one thing.
- And that is?
- Word in the pool is this upset
puts Balthazar in the lead
for four corrupts a year.
- Oh, it does?
Bring me the box!
- Right away, Mistress.
- I'm sorry, pets.
Our little demonstration
will have to wait.
Why don't I set you up
with another diversion
while I take care of this irritant.
How fitting.
Things that go bump in the night.
We've all heard them,
most are harmless.
The sounds of an old building settling,
the creaking of a tree branch
just outside the bedroom window.
The thing that lives under the bed.
Sometimes the sounds we hear,
particularly those in public places
that really get under our skin
and annoy us with their inconvenience,
what do we do then?
Do we lie back and listen?
Or do we take action?
And are we ready for the consequences
of sticking our noses into the business
of complete strangers when one thin wall
separates us from our
safe, secure reality.
Take, for instance,
this incommodiate little cautionary tale,
simply titled The Wake Up Call.
- Sir?
Sir, can I help you?
- Yes, this is room 210.
I'd like a 5:30 wake up call, please.
Thank you.
Hello?
Yes, this is 210,
I was just calling because
there's people next door making
a bunch of noise.
Thank you.
- Any word?
- Still nein, Mistress.
- Where is that little blow fly?
He is never around when you want him.
- We've tried all channels, Mistress.
- Oh, alright.
If you want something done right,
do it yourself.
- Cameras.
Kinky.
- Where the hell have you been, Cupid?
My people have been messaging you
non-stop for hours.
- 10 minutes, Mistress.
- Shut up, you!
- I must have my cell phone on vibrate.
I'm here now, give me some sugar, baby.
- Not so fast, sprite.
I brought you here for a purpose.
- Of course you did.
No better lovin' can be found than
right here in the arms
of the ol' love doctor.
- Love doctor?
Since when do you have a degree?
- I'm a specialist.
The title's honorary.
Love may be my specialty,
but lust is what I do best.
I knew it was only a matter of time
before you called on me again.
Once you go cupid,
everything else is stupid.
- Clever.
But I brought you here for a purpose.
I have a job for you.
- Ooh, a job!
Like a blow jo-
- Not that kind of job, you perv.
Maybe that could be arranged
after you do me a little favor.
- Favor.
What kind of favor?
- One that's right up your alley,
my little passion puppet.
I want you to make somebody fall in love.
- Hey, it's what I do best.
- I thought lust was what you did best.
- Shut up, you!
I have someone very specific in mind
for your special treatment.
A member of the clergy.
- Clergy.
That's easy.
I'll just take some alter boys,
throw 'em at him-
- No, pet.
I don't want an easy fix.
I want you to give this one
the full treatment.
I want you to give him his soul mate.
- His what?
You can't be serious.
- Are you saying it's
outside of your abilities?
I thought you were the
master of such things.
- Yeah, I am, but...
- Maybe I should ask Ammyadethup.
Maybe he's up for the challenge.
- No, no, no,
I never said I couldn't do it.
It's just not something I do every day.
- That's what makes it so special,
isn't it, pet?
- Special may be too mild a term.
Try rare.
- So you can do it?
- Yeah, but it's gonna cost you.
- You're talking to the top
soul broker of the Abyss.
I'm sure we can arrange something
mutually beneficial.
- Get ready for an experience you'll
never forget, baby.
- I'm aquiver with anticipation.
- I see what you did there!
Well, let's say we get rid
of the civilians and make some memories.
- Not until the job is done.
I expect results, Cupid.
I'm not the kind of gal you
want to be on the bad side of.
- Baby, from where I'm standing,
you ain't got a bad side.
- Let's keep it that way, shall we?
Now, hurry up sugar wings.
We haven't much time to avert catastrophe
and I'm just aching to be pawed by you.
- Not even a kiss for good luck?
- Are you saying what you do
is dependent upon luck?
- Hell no,
I'm a professional.
- That's what I thought.
Later.
Okay, well then that's done.
Where were we?
Oh, yes, our final chapter
in our little parade of sins.
Not all sinners are
born into their misery,
some are made.
Molded by adversity and circumstance,
then forged in the flames of hopelessness.
They then become desperate disciples
to an ancient drive:
revenge.
Once that line is crossed, however,
there can be no turning back.
We've seen our sinners at work,
let's take a peek into the incubator,
where one moment in
time can flip the switch
to a lifetime of wickedness.
A delicious little overture
aptly titled Wolff's Law.
- I don't really know him.
Like, I see him in the
halls every once in while
and maybe we've had a class together,
but I've never really talked to him.
- We went to middle school together.
He used to be way different.
He's like really shy now.
- He seems nice,
but I've never talked to him.
- Yeah, he gets picked on.
Everyone does.
- He's emo for sure.
- Check it out.
Hey, wait, wait, what's on your face, man?
It looks pretty bad.
What happened?
Hey, are you okay?
Hey, I'm talking to you, dude.
Hey, I'm talking to you!
Fuckin' faggot.
How's it going, buddy?
Good to see you.
I'm sorry about this morning, k?
What are you drawing?
It's nice.
Oh what, I can't see it?
That sucks.
You suck.
- I don't know, man.
- What?
- Things are just...
Hazy.
- I feel you.
Look at me.
You're good.
It's just fuckin' life.
- I've never been in a fight.
Not even close.
I haven't hurt anybody.
But sometimes...
I swear I can see it.
- No more ghanja for you, man.
That shit makes you think too much.
It'll be okay, bro.
- Where you been?
Hey?
- Fuckin' faggot.
Pablo Picasso.
Oh, so I can have this now?
Oh, I can have this?
Huh?
You're giving this to me?
You stabbed me!
- What's going on here?
- That was so crazy.
- Yeah, it was stupid.
- Stupid, yeah, but ballsy.
Fuckin' a.
Anyways, I think they got the point man.
No pun intended.
Yo, let me get those
notes for Hansen's class.
- Yeah, for sure.
- Can't understand a fuckin'
word that old man says.
- He puts it on the board too, you know.
- Hey, so I can't go to the park today.
- Why not?
- I gotta put in some mom time.
Plus, I think she's onto me, man.
I can only get pinkeye so many times,
if you know what I mean.
And I should probably study
for Hansen's test, too.
- Uh huh.
- Hey, fuck you!
I might.
For real though, I'm out.
Are you good?
- Yeah.
- Good.
Hang in there, killer.
- I talked to the school.
They told me what happened in class.
They're suspending you for a week, Hyde.
And those other boys, too.
Hyde?
- The flag flies at
half staff tonight over the White House,
the Washington Monument in the background.
Lady Liberty still stands in front of
the New York skyline altered so much
on that fateful day.
The music you're hearing
now is Mozart's Requiem,
being sung by a choir in Baltimore.
They're joined tonight by other choirs
in time zone after time
zone around the world.
Tonight, the nation and the world remember
the attacks one year ago on New York City,
The Pentagon, and the plane that crashed.
In all, 2,977 lives were lost that day.
288 million lives, the
lives of all Americans,
forever changed.
Thank you for joining us tonight on-
- Pain is just the fear of pain.
Once you take away the shock,
once you expect it,
it becomes nothing.
The more I endure,
the more I can take.
Like a flame is so hot it feels cold.
When your life is nothing but pain,
pain is nothing.
- Honey,
come on, let's go.
- What do you want, man?
Seriously, I mean, I'm done with-
- Oh, hello, pets.
Did you enjoy my little offerings?
Sort of a serial killer smorgasbord.
I didn't intend for that to happen,
but you know how it goes.
Think about something long enough
and you're bound to
will it into existence.
- Mistress, more news
from the sternal pool!
- What news, pet?
- It worked, Mistress.
- What worked, pet?
- Your plan Mistress!
Cupid found a soul mate for your target
and he wrote his vows in record time.
- Did he?
- Yeah, Mistress, he's been defrocked
and is planning to be wed within the week.
- Defrocked, you say!
- Yeah, Mistress.
- On what grounds?
- Fornication.
- The clergy looks down on
such things, don't they?
- It's the gravest of sins
for a priest, Mistress.
- He's to be wed, you say?
- Yeah, Mistress.
- And what are the odds now, pet?
- Balthazar is in a tizzy.
Now that the acolyte has been defrocked,
there is no way he can become pope.
The best he can hope for now is dictator,
or captain of industry.
- Dime a dozen these
days, aren't they, pet?
- Indeed, Mistress.
- And that puts whom back in the lead?
- You, Mistress!
- Excellent.
- Now, Cupid is in the
waiting room, Mistress.
Shall I show him in?
- Let him stew a bit, Addy.
A couple months should be sufficient.
- As you wish, Mistress.
- This is your lucky day, my sweet.
Mama's feeling playful.
Well, there you have it, my pets.
A glimpse into the inner
workings of the Abyss,
where anything is possible if the mortal
mind can conceive it.
I do hope you will join
me for another stroll down
the unhallowed halls of immorality,
where a man is his own worst enemy.
Until next time,
this is perdition's Mistress of iniquity,
Lady Belladonna,
reminding you to live
like there's no tomorrow.
For one day, you too could find
yourself part of my collection.
A paragon of vice,
with your own special place
amongst the sins of men.
- Okay, read that back to me, Addy.
- 478 geologists,
27 actors,
18 pop stars,
14 evangelists,
five star athletes,
and one chief justice.
Your numbers continue to rise with
each passing year, Mistress!
And, if I may be so bold,
the deal you made with the
geologists was masterful.
So many souls gained in exchange for an
assortment of petty sinners who wasted
their lives on video games,
comic books and excessive masturbation.
- Well, I never specified
the type of virgin
with which they would spend eternity.
- Brilliant!
- I know.
Anything on Keith Richards?
- Nein, Mistress.
- That contract is going to haunt me
for the rest of my days.
Okay, okay, that's enough.
I need something to bring me down.
Too much happiness tends
to give me heartburn.
Ah, ah, ah...
That's better, isn't it, pet?
Manners are so important,
don't you agree?
- Yeah, Mistress.
- That's enough.
Why don't you go torture
some skinheads now?
- Yeah, Mistress.
- It's so hard to find
good help these days.
So sorry to keep you waiting, my pets.
A Wish Fulfillment Facilitator's job
is never really done,
especially here.
I spend my days brokering contracts
with the greedy and morally conflicted.
It's earned me the title of
Top Soul Broker of the Abyss.
I can't complain, though,
it comes with its privileges but,
it can get a little tedious.
You mortals don't have nearly the
moral conflict your ancestors did.
Sometimes it's just too easy.
And after a long day in the soul mines,
I need a way to unwind,
and the hobby that
fills my blackened heart
the most with absolute
loathing and revoltion
lies within this box.
Maybe you don't recognize this chest,
it once played an important part
in humanity's fall from grace.
It was given to a young
woman named Pandora,
who was told not to open it.
Of course, she did.
My mentor, the insufferable Lilith,
is the mastermind behind that deal.
Give a mortal a box and
tell her not to open it?
Cut and dried.
Truth be told,
she stole that idea from
the big guy himself.
I mean, come on, the whole apple thing?
Genius.
That's not to say the
box wasn't a good idea,
though not as original as
she would like us to believe,
no matter how well it worked.
Anyway, that knit-wit
Pandora opened the box
and through that action the most delicious
sins were released into your world.
We've been having so much fun
with you people ever since.
Here's the thing about sin though,
it abhors a vacuum.
Everybody assumes that once
all that sin was released,
it was a done deal.
Nope.
What they forget is this isn't just
any old box,
it once held all the sins of the world
within its sturdy wooden frame.
That's a lot of power.
It doesn't just dissipate
after it's served its purpose.
You see, Pandora's box likes
being the keeper of sin.
You could say it was
its only real purpose,
and having released the sin into the world
to propagate and grow,
it draws them back like bees to a hive.
And just like those good little bees,
violations, transgressions and misdeeds
must always come home to roost.
This beautiful box holds the
greatest collection ever assembled,
the ultimate manifestation
of my favorite diversion,
the sins of man.
I never really know what the box is going
to present to me each time I peer inside.
It's the ultimate cosmic crapshoot.
But it always fills me with the most
exquisite hopelessness and misery,
the perfect letdown after a long,
gruelingly satisfying day.
Shall we take a peek?
Oh, yes.
This is an exquisite choice.
There is a special category of mankind
I find very distasteful,
thus wonderfully titillating.
The predator, the stalker,
the sinner with no regard for human life.
Those of this ilk are not
cut of the same cloth.
But why mince words?
Let's take a stab at one particularly
penetrating tale I call
The Last Night on Mars.
- It's Up All Night
on Friday Night with me,
The Wolf Man, on WCCC,
channel 43, Las Brisas.
Tonight, we have a horrifying collection
of classic sci-fi B movies.
For our first classic,
that needs no introduction,
without further ado I give you
the monster movie of all monster movies.
- Is someone there?
- Over here.
Over here.
Over here.
- Come on, Jason.
Pull it together.
Now I'm talking in the third person.
- Jason!
- That killed my appetite.
That got in my mind.
It's all in your head.
What's wrong with me?
I'm losing my mind.
There's nothing here.
It's just my imagination.
Get out of my head!
That was easy.
Oh, it's just you.
I thought you were a monster.
- Uh, what?
Go the fuck away, weirdo.
And stop ringing my doorbell.
- My car broke down,
cell phone's dead.
I just need to make a call.
- I'm so sorry, fuck you.
- No, no, no!
- Please, no!
- Shh...
I know.
- Save you for later.
- No!
- Let's get this over with.
I gotta move quickly.
- 911 operator,
what's your emergency?
- Please, please
send somebody quick.
Oh my God, my sister and her friends
are all dead,
please.
- What's your address, ma'am?
- 1878 Mars Avenue, hurry,
I, I don't know if anyone's still here,
I'm so scared.
- We're on our way.
- Sorry, we did all we could.
She just lost too much blood.
- Thank you.
Damnit.
She could've been the one person to ID
this son of a bitch.
- That was definitely
a missed opportunity.
- Ma'am, I'm sorry for your loss,
but I'm gonna have to ask you
a couple more questions, okay?
- Okay.
- Now, you said you arrived
home at 3:20am, correct?
- That's right.
- And you found them in
the back room at 3:25.
- Yeah, that's right.
I can't believe that this
happened to my sister.
I'm gonna have to call my parents
to let them know that she's...
- We've already contacted them,
they're gonna be here tomorrow.
- Okay.
I just hope you catch this son of a bitch.
- We will, don't worry.
Now, we have a squad car waiting outside
and they're gonna take you to your aunt's.
And these two officers
will be with you 24/7
just to make sure you're safe, okay?
- Okay.
- Alright, would you gentlemen get her
something to drink, please?
Damnit.
We've gotta catch this guy.
- This is the third case
we've had like this.
- Yeah.
He's methodical but he's gonna
screw up sooner or later.
Just make sure that you cover this place
for any kind of evidence whatsoever.
- You got it.
- Alright.
Damnit.
- No!
- I'll be right back, don't hurt yourself.
That's my job.
Damnit.
Every time.
I'm right out front and this happens.
What the hell?!
Hello?
Is someone there?
I killed you.
You're dead.
Now you're going to kill me?
- Yes,
Jason, you're going to die.
They'll be more.
- It's so good to be me.
Did you enjoy that little
presentation, my pets?
I did too.
There's something about a strong man
that throws himself into his work
that really turns me on.
Of course...
The high body count helps, too.
Men like that are artists.
There's a special place
in hell for such as he.
And you better believe I'm gonna
get my piece of that action.
But not all killers are
so easy to pin down.
They come in all shapes and sizes.
The best surprises are
those that are unexpected.
Take, for instance,
the ordered and perfectly manicured lives
of suburban housewives.
One might find that sort of thing boring
and dreadfully mundane.
But look beneath the surface
and all manner of horrors can be found.
Like this flawless entry
I like to call Perfect.
- That was delicious as usual, honey!
- Thank you dear, I'm glad you liked it.
- I think I'm gonna tackle that closet
in the hallway today.
- Oh dear, are you sure?
I think id' much rather take on
the garage than that gloomy old closet.
It's so dark back there.
- There's this new invention,
you may have heard of it,
it's called electricity.
And old Mr. Edison started patenting
his new invention the light bulb.
They're gonna revolutionize housework,
mark my words!
- Just what every modern housewife needs,
revolutionary housework.
- The marvels of the modern age!
It is the 21st century, after all.
But, seriously, dear, I've been putting
that closet off for months.
And really it shouldn't take more
than a couple of hours.
Won't it be wonderful to have the
task over and done with?
Never put off 'til tomorrow what
is better done today.
I think Benjamin Franklin said that.
Or Jack the Ripper, I'm not sure.
- You are right, of course.
Just let me tidy up in
here and I'll join you.
- That a girl.
- Slave driver.
- You are so adorable, Mrs. Borden.
- Will you still think I'm so adorable
when I'm 105?
- Well, considering I'll be 108,
I'll still think you're the
hottest gal on the block.
- Perfect answer.
Now, if you're gonna take
on the closet monster
from hell you'd better get to it.
- I'm going, I'm going.
Now who's the slave driver?
- That's Mistress Slave
Driver to you, mister!
- George, are you okay?!
- Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry dear.
That was a little heavier
than I expected it to be.
- You didn't break anything, did you?
- Just my pride.
- Oh, good.
I was afraid it was something important.
- Ouch.
- Perfect.
- George Borden!
If you break something valuable
there's going to be hell to pay.
George?
Don't make me come in there.
George?
Honey?
Are you alright?
Modern marvels, huh?
George?
George, answer me.
Are you okay?
Was that really necessary?
- Was what necessary?
- Why did you have to kill him?
- Him?
- Yes, him!
He was the perfect cover!
Do you have any idea how hard it is
to find a man like him?
A decent man?
The kind of guy that everybody likes?
He wouldn't hurt a fly.
He cried at chick
flicks, for Christ sakes.
Do you know how long
it took me to find him?
Do you?
- Uh, lady,
I don't know what you're talking about
but I wouldn't worry
about him if I was you.
You're next.
You're both just meat to me.
- Wait, did you just say meat?
- That's all you are.
Meat.
- Oh, God.
You're him, aren't you?
- What?
- You're
the Smalltown butcher.
- How did you...?
No I'm not.
- Yes you are, don't deny it.
That mask?
It should've been a dead giveaway,
but you caught me by surprise.
The meat thing though,
that's your calling card.
You carve chunks away from your victim,
dress it with vegetables,
and cook it for the person
who discovers your handy work.
I know all about you.
- Okay.
Let's say I am him, theoretically.
How do you know so much about me?
Him!
I mean, him.
- Followed your work, of course.
I follow everybody's work.
Call it a professional interest.
- You're a fan?
- I wouldn't say that.
You're a little too sloppy for my tastes.
As a matter of fact,
I'm surprised you've gotten away
with it for as long as you have.
Must have some pretty
dense cops in Smalltown.
So what are you doing way
out here in the suburbs, anyway?
This isn't your turf.
- Maybe I needed a change of scenery.
- Well, that simply won't do.
There are rules of conduct, you know.
Even for us.
- What rules?
I don't follow no stinkin' rules.
- And look where it got you.
We all have our own turf
and we do not cross lines,
even an amateur like you should know
how this works.
- To hell with you,
and you rules, cow!
- Language.
Please.
- You're meat,
and I'm gonna tenderize you good.
- You're going to what?
Did you just say you're
going to tenderize me?
- Yeah.
With this.
See?
- Yeah, I see.
Well, it's original.
I gotta give you that.
As is making your attack in the middle
of the morning instead of under
the cover of darkness.
Of course, now I have to think about
the fact that one of my neighbors may have
seen you enter the house.
But listen, I don't have time to tutor
you on the error of your ways.
You have crossed a line, literally.
And now, I have to dispose of you.
- You?
Are going to dispose of me?
- Don't look so surprised.
I have far more experience than you do,
and my body count is much higher.
- What are you talking about, cow?
You're nothing special,
you're just meat.
- Stop it with the meat thing, already.
I don't care if it is your thing,
it is gross and unflattering
and I can't imagine that any of
your victims thought otherwise.
- Die, meat!
- You first.
Amateurs.
Morning started out so good, too.
Perfect, just perfect.
- There's something about strong,
unpredictable women that
really gets my blood pumping.
Be honest,
did you see that one coming?
I mean, I know the competition
is fierce out there.
But it does pay to do one's homework.
- Mistress!
- What is it, Addy,
can't you see I'm entertaining?
- Yeah, Mistress, but I have news.
Very important news.
- Well, spit it out.
- I'm not sure this is the kind
of news you want the
world to know, Mistress.
- These are my guests, pet,
they know that what happens in
the Abyss stays in the Abyss.
Now, what's your news?
- It's all the buzz in the
the sternal pool, Mistress.
- And I care what those
harpies are spouting why?
- It concerns you, Mistress.
- Office gossip does not concern me, pet.
- This does, Mistress, I assure you.
- This had better be bad, Addy,
or I may feed you to Babayonga.
- It's bad, Mistress.
Balthazar has signed a pope.
- A what?
- A pope, Mistress.
- How is that possible?
No one wishes to be pope anymore.
The Metachis and the
Borgia's were the last.
- Not anymore, Mistress.
They're calling him The Black Pope,
though he is only in acolyte now.
They've played out the odds
and it looks like world domination
is in 25 years.
- How is it that I am
just hearing about this?
Anyone with this kind of desire
should've been on my radar.
- It must have slipped
through the cracks, Mistress!
We often overlook the
clergy for obvious reasons.
- The clergy is exactly the group we
should not be overlooking.
How can this get any worse?
- Well, Mistress,
there is one thing.
- And that is?
- Word in the pool is this upset
puts Balthazar in the lead
for four corrupts a year.
- Oh, it does?
Bring me the box!
- Right away, Mistress.
- I'm sorry, pets.
Our little demonstration
will have to wait.
Why don't I set you up
with another diversion
while I take care of this irritant.
How fitting.
Things that go bump in the night.
We've all heard them,
most are harmless.
The sounds of an old building settling,
the creaking of a tree branch
just outside the bedroom window.
The thing that lives under the bed.
Sometimes the sounds we hear,
particularly those in public places
that really get under our skin
and annoy us with their inconvenience,
what do we do then?
Do we lie back and listen?
Or do we take action?
And are we ready for the consequences
of sticking our noses into the business
of complete strangers when one thin wall
separates us from our
safe, secure reality.
Take, for instance,
this incommodiate little cautionary tale,
simply titled The Wake Up Call.
- Sir?
Sir, can I help you?
- Yes, this is room 210.
I'd like a 5:30 wake up call, please.
Thank you.
Hello?
Yes, this is 210,
I was just calling because
there's people next door making
a bunch of noise.
Thank you.
- Any word?
- Still nein, Mistress.
- Where is that little blow fly?
He is never around when you want him.
- We've tried all channels, Mistress.
- Oh, alright.
If you want something done right,
do it yourself.
- Cameras.
Kinky.
- Where the hell have you been, Cupid?
My people have been messaging you
non-stop for hours.
- 10 minutes, Mistress.
- Shut up, you!
- I must have my cell phone on vibrate.
I'm here now, give me some sugar, baby.
- Not so fast, sprite.
I brought you here for a purpose.
- Of course you did.
No better lovin' can be found than
right here in the arms
of the ol' love doctor.
- Love doctor?
Since when do you have a degree?
- I'm a specialist.
The title's honorary.
Love may be my specialty,
but lust is what I do best.
I knew it was only a matter of time
before you called on me again.
Once you go cupid,
everything else is stupid.
- Clever.
But I brought you here for a purpose.
I have a job for you.
- Ooh, a job!
Like a blow jo-
- Not that kind of job, you perv.
Maybe that could be arranged
after you do me a little favor.
- Favor.
What kind of favor?
- One that's right up your alley,
my little passion puppet.
I want you to make somebody fall in love.
- Hey, it's what I do best.
- I thought lust was what you did best.
- Shut up, you!
I have someone very specific in mind
for your special treatment.
A member of the clergy.
- Clergy.
That's easy.
I'll just take some alter boys,
throw 'em at him-
- No, pet.
I don't want an easy fix.
I want you to give this one
the full treatment.
I want you to give him his soul mate.
- His what?
You can't be serious.
- Are you saying it's
outside of your abilities?
I thought you were the
master of such things.
- Yeah, I am, but...
- Maybe I should ask Ammyadethup.
Maybe he's up for the challenge.
- No, no, no,
I never said I couldn't do it.
It's just not something I do every day.
- That's what makes it so special,
isn't it, pet?
- Special may be too mild a term.
Try rare.
- So you can do it?
- Yeah, but it's gonna cost you.
- You're talking to the top
soul broker of the Abyss.
I'm sure we can arrange something
mutually beneficial.
- Get ready for an experience you'll
never forget, baby.
- I'm aquiver with anticipation.
- I see what you did there!
Well, let's say we get rid
of the civilians and make some memories.
- Not until the job is done.
I expect results, Cupid.
I'm not the kind of gal you
want to be on the bad side of.
- Baby, from where I'm standing,
you ain't got a bad side.
- Let's keep it that way, shall we?
Now, hurry up sugar wings.
We haven't much time to avert catastrophe
and I'm just aching to be pawed by you.
- Not even a kiss for good luck?
- Are you saying what you do
is dependent upon luck?
- Hell no,
I'm a professional.
- That's what I thought.
Later.
Okay, well then that's done.
Where were we?
Oh, yes, our final chapter
in our little parade of sins.
Not all sinners are
born into their misery,
some are made.
Molded by adversity and circumstance,
then forged in the flames of hopelessness.
They then become desperate disciples
to an ancient drive:
revenge.
Once that line is crossed, however,
there can be no turning back.
We've seen our sinners at work,
let's take a peek into the incubator,
where one moment in
time can flip the switch
to a lifetime of wickedness.
A delicious little overture
aptly titled Wolff's Law.
- I don't really know him.
Like, I see him in the
halls every once in while
and maybe we've had a class together,
but I've never really talked to him.
- We went to middle school together.
He used to be way different.
He's like really shy now.
- He seems nice,
but I've never talked to him.
- Yeah, he gets picked on.
Everyone does.
- He's emo for sure.
- Check it out.
Hey, wait, wait, what's on your face, man?
It looks pretty bad.
What happened?
Hey, are you okay?
Hey, I'm talking to you, dude.
Hey, I'm talking to you!
Fuckin' faggot.
How's it going, buddy?
Good to see you.
I'm sorry about this morning, k?
What are you drawing?
It's nice.
Oh what, I can't see it?
That sucks.
You suck.
- I don't know, man.
- What?
- Things are just...
Hazy.
- I feel you.
Look at me.
You're good.
It's just fuckin' life.
- I've never been in a fight.
Not even close.
I haven't hurt anybody.
But sometimes...
I swear I can see it.
- No more ghanja for you, man.
That shit makes you think too much.
It'll be okay, bro.
- Where you been?
Hey?
- Fuckin' faggot.
Pablo Picasso.
Oh, so I can have this now?
Oh, I can have this?
Huh?
You're giving this to me?
You stabbed me!
- What's going on here?
- That was so crazy.
- Yeah, it was stupid.
- Stupid, yeah, but ballsy.
Fuckin' a.
Anyways, I think they got the point man.
No pun intended.
Yo, let me get those
notes for Hansen's class.
- Yeah, for sure.
- Can't understand a fuckin'
word that old man says.
- He puts it on the board too, you know.
- Hey, so I can't go to the park today.
- Why not?
- I gotta put in some mom time.
Plus, I think she's onto me, man.
I can only get pinkeye so many times,
if you know what I mean.
And I should probably study
for Hansen's test, too.
- Uh huh.
- Hey, fuck you!
I might.
For real though, I'm out.
Are you good?
- Yeah.
- Good.
Hang in there, killer.
- I talked to the school.
They told me what happened in class.
They're suspending you for a week, Hyde.
And those other boys, too.
Hyde?
- The flag flies at
half staff tonight over the White House,
the Washington Monument in the background.
Lady Liberty still stands in front of
the New York skyline altered so much
on that fateful day.
The music you're hearing
now is Mozart's Requiem,
being sung by a choir in Baltimore.
They're joined tonight by other choirs
in time zone after time
zone around the world.
Tonight, the nation and the world remember
the attacks one year ago on New York City,
The Pentagon, and the plane that crashed.
In all, 2,977 lives were lost that day.
288 million lives, the
lives of all Americans,
forever changed.
Thank you for joining us tonight on-
- Pain is just the fear of pain.
Once you take away the shock,
once you expect it,
it becomes nothing.
The more I endure,
the more I can take.
Like a flame is so hot it feels cold.
When your life is nothing but pain,
pain is nothing.
- Honey,
come on, let's go.
- What do you want, man?
Seriously, I mean, I'm done with-
- Oh, hello, pets.
Did you enjoy my little offerings?
Sort of a serial killer smorgasbord.
I didn't intend for that to happen,
but you know how it goes.
Think about something long enough
and you're bound to
will it into existence.
- Mistress, more news
from the sternal pool!
- What news, pet?
- It worked, Mistress.
- What worked, pet?
- Your plan Mistress!
Cupid found a soul mate for your target
and he wrote his vows in record time.
- Did he?
- Yeah, Mistress, he's been defrocked
and is planning to be wed within the week.
- Defrocked, you say!
- Yeah, Mistress.
- On what grounds?
- Fornication.
- The clergy looks down on
such things, don't they?
- It's the gravest of sins
for a priest, Mistress.
- He's to be wed, you say?
- Yeah, Mistress.
- And what are the odds now, pet?
- Balthazar is in a tizzy.
Now that the acolyte has been defrocked,
there is no way he can become pope.
The best he can hope for now is dictator,
or captain of industry.
- Dime a dozen these
days, aren't they, pet?
- Indeed, Mistress.
- And that puts whom back in the lead?
- You, Mistress!
- Excellent.
- Now, Cupid is in the
waiting room, Mistress.
Shall I show him in?
- Let him stew a bit, Addy.
A couple months should be sufficient.
- As you wish, Mistress.
- This is your lucky day, my sweet.
Mama's feeling playful.
Well, there you have it, my pets.
A glimpse into the inner
workings of the Abyss,
where anything is possible if the mortal
mind can conceive it.
I do hope you will join
me for another stroll down
the unhallowed halls of immorality,
where a man is his own worst enemy.
Until next time,
this is perdition's Mistress of iniquity,
Lady Belladonna,
reminding you to live
like there's no tomorrow.
For one day, you too could find
yourself part of my collection.
A paragon of vice,
with your own special place
amongst the sins of men.