Creepshow (1982) Script

MAN: I told you before I didn't want you to read this crap.

I never saw such rotten crap in my life.

Where do you get this shit? Who sells it to you?

I'm talking to you, young man. You wanna answer me when I'm talking to you.

Remember who puts the frigging bread on the table around here, don't you?

WOMAN: Stan, don't be too hard on him, all the kids read them.

STAN: My boy isn't all the kids.

You wanna know where this is going, Billy?

In the garbage. Right into the frigging garbage.

Now, you got any smart mouth about that?

(lightning crashes)

BILLY: I don't see how it's any worse than the books you keep in your dresser.

Those ones under your underwear, those sex books.

Stan, you didn't have to-- Hit him?

Not only do I find out he's reading this crap, he's a goddamn little snoop as well.

No, it wasn't like that! (lightning crashes)

You said for me to get your cuff links. It was on Sunday.

(lightning crashes)

The windows are open downstairs, I better go down and close them.

The rain will get in. No, I'll do it.

I got some garbage I wanna throw away.

Daddy, please don't throw it away. I'm sorry.

The next time, young man, I find you with a worthless piece of shit like this again... won't sit down for a week, buddy boy.

Remember that.

Tuck in.


(thunder rolls, lightning crashes)

(lightning crashes)

That takes care of that.

WOMAN: Stan, don't you think you were...

...a little hard on him?

Did you see that crap? All that horror crap?

Things coming out of crates and eating people?

Dead people coming back to life? People turning into weeds, for chrissake?

Well, yes, I did, but I-- STAN: Well, you want him reading that stuff?

Well, no, but-- STAN: All right, then.

I took care of it.

That's why God made fathers, babe.

That's why God made fathers. (lightning crashes)


(lightning crashes)

I hope you rot in hell.

(lightning crashes)

(cackling laughter)




(lightning crashes)

(lightning crashes)

(lightning crashes)

(cackling laughter)

(choir singing)


(grandfather clock chiming)

Do you really think she'll be out, Aunt Sylvia?

Of course she will, Richard. You know that.

You can set your watch by her. Six o'clock on the dot.

Pass those scones, Cass. You're such a hog.

You married a great hog, Henry.

But then I suppose you know that, don't you?

Our Cass has always had such extremely healthy appetites.

Who's coming out, Cass?

You mean Cass hasn't told you about dotty old Great-Aunt Bedelia...

...the patriarch of our clan?

Isn't she the one that was supposed to have...?

Well.... Supposed to have murdered her father?


(tires squealing)

SYLVIA: Bedelia is my aunt...

...which means that she's Richard and Cass' great-aunt...

...which also means that she's older than God.

But her father, Nathan Grantham, was even older and meaner than that.

All a bunch of dirty vultures...

...just waiting to get your hands on my money.

He was hysterically jealous of Bedelia all his life.

Complete Freudian relationship.

Then when he was about 184, he had a stroke...

...and lucky Bedelia, she got to nurse him full time.

Then she met a fella.

Yes, sir, a real September courtship.

September courtship?

This was October or November at the very least.

He was 75. Aunt Bedelia is...?

Never mind, my dears.

The point is, Henry, Bedelia loved her rather elderly beau...

...and her own father had him murdered.

(match ignites)

RICHARD: Yarbro was the guy's name, and he supposedly died...

(gunshot) a "hunting accident."

That's what's on the books, anyway.

For Bedelia, it was the last straw.

She bashed her father's head in with a marble ashtray.

So rumor has it.

SYLVIA: Well, however it happened... was good riddance to some extremely bad rubbish.

And my lovely niece and my handsome nephew...

...have very good reasons for being pleased at old Nathan's death.

There was no trouble about the will. Share and share alike.


SYLVIA: And now, every Father's Day, every single Father's Day since his death...

...for seven long years, she returns to this house...

...the scene of her crime.

(tires squealing)

Is that--? SYLVIA: Oh, yes.

You can almost set your watch by her.

(grandfather clock chiming)

(brakes squealing)


Screech to a halt, as they say.

Do you think she really did it? Oh, yes.

I know she did it.

(emergency brake ratcheting)

SYLVIA: Bedelia was always very unstable, even when she was much younger.

And after the death of her gentleman friend, she grew steadily worse.

HANK: Why Father's Day?

Because that was the day of the tragedy, and she is overwhelmed with her own guilt.


SYLVIA: She will go to her father's grave and meditate for about an hour.

And then she will come inside...

...and we will all sit down to a nice baked-ham dinner...

...the three of us--

Oh, I'm so sorry, Henry. The four of us.

--who now owe her so very much.


(porch light squeaking)

NATHAN [IN VOICE-OVER]: Where's my cake?

I want my cake.

Where's my cake, Bedelia?

Where's my Father's Day cake?

I want my cake... dirty bitch.

I'm going to have it.


It's Father's Day.

Where's my cake?

You promised me my cake!

Bedelia, I'm your father...

...and you're supposed to be taking care of me.

I don't hear you. I said, I don't hear you!

Bedelia, you bitch!

What do you think I've got you here for?

You're just like all the others.

You're nothing but a bunch of vultures.

(yelling) (cane tapping)

Bedelia! I want my cake.


Where's my Father's Day cake?

Happy Father's Day!

(birds and crickets chirping)

(bottle thudding)

Don't be stupid.


Happy Father's Day.


God, I didn't know I had it in me.

I'm your daughter, right? You bootlegger. Killer, murderer!

Ungrateful bastard.

Shouldn't have killed Peter, you know.

He was a man, right, a real man.

See, everything I wanted, he wanted for me.

You stupid bastard. You screwed it all up.

You screwed up my mother, you screwed me up.

You got me so mad, drove me crazy.

"I want my cake, Bedelia. You bitch!"

You called me a bitch.

Sylvia fixed it all.

Ashtray back in place, chair overturned.

(clicks tongue, inhales sharply)

You took a fall, Daddy, a bad fall.

Nobody could catch us, nobody.

You taught me. You taught Sylvia. You taught us all.


(clicks tongue, mumbles)

It's so peaceful here.



No! No!


Where's my cake, Bedelia?


I want my cake.


It's Father's Day, Bedelia.

I want my cake.

(grandfather clock chiming)


SYLVIA: Cass! Cass, turn that down!

Cass, turn that down and turn it down right now.

Shall I glaze the ham now, ma'am?

No, Mrs. Danvers, you'll have to wait.

Ms. Grantham has not yet arrived.

And you will remember that today is a very special day for her.

Yes, ma'am.

Ain't life grand, Mrs. D.? SYLVIA: I do hope she's all right.

Sometimes she loses track of time.


(door shuts)

(exhales sharply)

(match ignites)

(car door shuts)

(switch clicks)

HANK: Aunt Bedelia?

Ms. Grantham, are you around?

(match ignites)



(branches clattering)



(bottle clattering)

Whoa... (grunts)







(sliding) (screaming)



(insects chittering)

Where's my cake?

I want it. It's mine.


(music stops)

(footsteps echoing)


Where is he? My dear, I really couldn't say.

No doubt he's still out at the grave, hobnobbing with your Aunt Bedelia...

...getting her side of the story, I expect.

Well, I want him. And I want my dinner. I'm hungry.

Well, go get him, then.

You go, Richard.

He's your husband. I don't even like him.

SYLVIA: I'll go and get him.

After all, he's such a sweet boy.



Mrs. Danvers? Mrs. D--

Mrs. Danvers.

(cooking pots bubbling)

Mrs. Dan--




I want my cake.

(neck snapping)

(grandfather clock chiming)


Where is she? And where the hell is Hank?

Go see, Richard. Please? Please?

RICHARD: Look, my daring sister...

...he is your hick--

Husband, I mean. You go look for him.

Richard, I'm scared, and it's dark out there.

Look, I just wanna get another bottle of wine, okay?

Please, Richard.

All right. Come on.

Come on.

♪♪ Are we conserving energy?


NATHAN: It's Father's Day...

...and I got my cake.

Oh, my God!

Happy Father's Day.

(evil laughing)


(distant rumbling coming closer)


Holy old Jesus.

That's a meteor. I'd be dipped in shit if that ain't a meteor.

Oh, shit!

I wonder how much they'd pay for it up at the college?

[IN VOICE-OVER] I wonder how much they'd pay for it up at the college?


Well, damn fine one, Mr. Verrill.


How does $50 sound?

Not a cent less than 200 bucks.

Seventy-five? Two hundred.

Anita Verrill didn't raise no idjits.

Keep a-countin'.

JORDY: Not a cent less than 200.

My meteor, my price.

Pay off that bank loan. That's the ticket.

Got to cool the son of a bitch off. Yeah.


(water running)

(splashing, hissing)

Oh, you done it now, Jordy Verrill.

You lunkhead.

[IN VOICE-OVER] You lunkhead.

Two hundred dollars?

For a broken meteor?

Mr. Verrill, you must be joking.

(slam echoing)

I wouldn't give you 2 cents.

JORDY: Jordy Verrill, you lunkhead.

Verrill luck's always in, and you spell that kind of luck B-A-D.

Still, I got to try.

(liquid pours, sizzles)


(liquid pours, sizzles)


Meteor shit.


(bucket clattering)

Maybe I can glue it together in the morning.

(bucket clattering)

MAN [ON TV]: The World Wrestling Federation champion...

...defending his title here at Madison Square Garden.

That's Sika, the Samoan Number 1, in control.

Oh, a kick nails him. Oh, baby.

Everything went but the kitchen sink. Look out.

(bell ringing)

That huge 300-pounder drop kicked right on out.

♪♪ MAN [ON TV]: Hit to the midsection now, Backlund reverses it.

Once again, it's gone to the buckle.

Backlund working on the left arm of Samoan Number 1.

Hit to the midsection. Backlund has him up.

Oh, forget about it.


JORDY: Jesus Christ.

(phone clicking, dialing)


DOCTOR: I'm sorry, Mr. Verrill.

Those fingers have... to come off.


(compartment slams shut)

DOCTOR: This is going to be extremely painful...

...Mr. Verrill.


Oh, Jordy Verrill... lunkhead, you been....

MAN [ON TV]: We're gonna try-- No, Backlund behind him.

Throws him up.

Pushes back.

(bell ringing)

(eerie warbling)

WOMAN 1 [ON TV]: I thought I'd find you up.

Oh, stop that. Now, don't cry, this isn't gonna do a bit for you.

WOMAN 2: Oh, I'm crying because Aunt Mattie and Aleck make me so mad.

WOMAN 1: Aleck and Aunt Mattie? Fiddlesticks.

Golly, don't it itch.

Well, that's Verrill luck, all right.

Always in, always bad.

WOMAN 1: But there's a difference between dreaming and doing.

The dreamers just sit around and moon...

...about how wonderful it would be if only things were different.

The years roll on, and they grow old.

By and by, they forget everything, even about their dreams.

WOMAN 2: I don't want to be like that. I want to be somebody.

WOMAN 1: Oh, everyone laughed at us, as they did at all the other pioneers.

They said this country would never be anything but a wilderness.

We didn't believe that. We were going to make a new country.

Besides, we wanted to see our dreams come true.

WOMAN 2: Granny, it must have been wonderful.

WOMAN 1: It was wonderful.

But don't you think for one single minute that it was easy, Esther Blodgett.

We burned in summer and we froze in winter...

...but we kept right on going, and we didn't complain...

...because we were doing what we wanted to do.

Can you understand that?


No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

No. No.


There you are, you sucker. I knowed you was in there someplace.

MAN 1 [ON TV]: The Tristate Ecumenical Council presents Let There Be Light...

...with Father Martin Burdine.

MAN 2: Many of you have made the great breakthrough... giant step, the faith decision.

Needed that.

MAN 2: You then said, "My troubles are over."

Not true.

Look up. Lift up your head.

You will succeed.

Be confident of this one thing:

That God, who has begun a good thing in you...

...will complete it.

MAN 3: Prerecorded.


I'm growing.


(television chiming)

Oh, my God. What a dr--




(tap squeaking, water running)

Oh, no, not there!

Jordy. Daddy?

FATHER: Jordy.

But you're dead.

You've been dead...

...Christ, three years almost.

You ain't gonna get into that tub, are you?

It's the water that it wants, Jordy.

Don't you know that? You get in that water, Jordy... might as well sign your death warrant.

I'm a goner already, Daddy, ain't I?

I got the stuff from out of that meteor on me...

...and I'm gone, ain't I?




(water continues running)



JORDY: Oh, better. Oh, that's lots better. Oh.

Oh, that's good.

(sighing and grunting)

(bird chirping)

MAN [ON TV]: And now it's time for the Farm Report...

...brought to you by Grainger Farm Supply...

...the home of all your feed and farm supplies.

Grain prices closed mixed after rising most of the session... reaction to some of the positive export news.

Analysts said prices were centered in the new highs... the late-session selling by commission houses and local traders...

...who sought to take profits from the early advances.

Pork-belly prices and most livestock prices fell on the Chicago Mercantile Exchange.

In quiet trading, cotton for delivery this month settled at 63.2 cents a pound.

Please. Please.

Please, God...

...let my luck be in...

...just this once.

Please, God...

...just this once.


MAN [ON TV]: And in today's weather...

...well, not much for the outdoor types, but you farmers are going to love this.

The current 30-day forecast...

...released by the U.S. meteorological station at Portland...

...calls for moderating temperatures and lots of rain.

Castle County is going to turn green so fast in the next month...

...that it's going to be almost miraculous.


(lightning crashes)


MAN: Wentworth? (groans)


All right, all right.


MAN: Wentworth? All right, I said.

(knocking) (groans)

That may work on TV, mister, but I can bench-press 300 pounds.

You'd better get your foot out of the door, or you're gonna lose about half of it.

Don't call me "mister."

You know damn well who I am, so let's not play any games, huh?

Come on, get out of here. Listen to me, Harry, and listen carefully.

Unless you let me in and talk to me, something very nasty... going to happen to Rebecca.

So nasty that your little mind can barely conceive of it.


You found out. All right.

Becky and I were gonna sit down and tell you pretty soon anyway.

You know, some of these cables are loose, Harry?

I'm surprised you didn't notice a change in the quality of your picture.

You know, you ought to be grateful to us, you know that?

I mean, if you ever loved her, you don't now.

There won't be any alimony, none of that community-property shit.

She just wants out.

Well, I don't know whether I ever loved her or not, Harry. That doesn't matter.

The point is, I keep what is mine. No exception to that rule, ever.

No exceptions, Harry. Never.

What did you mean when you said something nasty was gonna happen?

You really should take better care of this equipment.

At least get a maintenance cartridge, and dust off the heads.

Talk to me right now.

Take your hand off me, right now.

All right, fine.

Got something I want you to hear.

WOMAN [ON RECORDING]: Harry, he's got me in....

Please come. Please.

He's got me in....

If you don't come, the....

Please, Harry. Please come.

I had to stop it there, I couldn't bear to record any more.

What have you done with her?

Talk to me, you son of a bitch, or I'm gonna kill you.

You kill me and you'll never find out. Now, don't get naughty, Harry.

If I fall down on this floor and hit my head on that hard marble...

...why, I could fracture my skull.

Fine with me. And then you'll never know.

And believe me, Mr. True-Love, you'll want to know.

Because by 11 this morning, it's gonna be too late.

♪♪ VICKERS: I love the ocean, except when the tide is out.

Then it has that kind of rotten smell.

HARRY: I just don't understand what you're trying to prove.


VICKERS: I'm not trying to prove a thing.

It may be, on some subjects, that I'm not entirely sane.

The subject of what is mine, for example, I am not sane at all.

(engine revving)

(camera whirring)

(seagulls cawing)

VICKERS: Now, this is Comfort Point, and I call my beach house Comfort Station.

- Is that camp or kitsch, Harry? HARRY: It's stupid.

VICKERS: Unkind, Harry, unkind.

Well, I won't hold it against you.

Come on, up this way.

(whistling "Camptown Races")

Harry, the maiden fair is waiting for her knight in shining corduroy.

Come on.

Harry, here's something I think you'll find interesting.

You see that down there?

Is that...?


The burial mound of my lady fair?

Oh, m--

Could be.


VICKERS: You notice how the water creeps in?

Even when the tide's out, the water creeps in.

I don't know what the hell you think you're--

Now, look.

This has gone just about far enough.


No, Harry, not nearly far enough.

Now, if you're thinking of becoming a hero...

...I suggest that you remember the lady fair.

Jump into that hole.


No. Then you force me to shoot you, Harry.


(pistol hammer cocks)

Good boy, Harry. Good boy.

Now, Harry, I want you to kneel down...

...and start pulling the sand into the hole.

Uh-uh. No way. Go ahead, shoot me if you want to.

- You're not gonna bury me alive. Not a bad idea.

Not exactly what I had in mind, though.

All I wanna do is incapacitate you. Then you can see Becky.

I don't believe you.

VICKERS: I always keep my promises, Harry.

And I do have the gun, don't I?

Help! Yell all you want, Harry.

Comfort Point is very private. I own it all.

Help! Help! Help!


(birds flapping)

Nobody's gonna hear you, Harry.

Nobody's gonna hear anything.


Now, do what I told you.

(seagulls cawing)

(waves crashing)




Sort of like being buried in wet cement, huh?

Can't move your arms.

Don't have any leverage.

Go ahead, Harry, try to move.



You know, I could really...

...cover you all the way up, couldn't I, Harry?

I could make Harry all gone.


Oh, no. No, no, no. I wouldn't do that.

Here, let me get that.

Get that out of you. There you are. That's good.

No, I keep my promises.


Oh, Jesus. Get out.

(engine rumbling)

Get out of here. Just-- Richard!

Richard, would you get it out of here?


...found a friend, Harry?


(singing "I'm Just Wild About Harry")

Hey, come on, Richard. Get it out of here.

He's just getting revenge, Harry...

...for all the relatives of his that you ate, baked and stuffed, at Ma Maison.

Bad fellow, you. Oh, you bad fellow. Go on.

Get out of there.




Money. Look, I have money.

I'll give you anything. Just get me out of this hole, all right?

Well, I have something here, Harry.

Take your mind off of it.

Come on, Richard, please-- It's showtime.

(woman shouting)

Oh, my-- Becky?

Isn't that great video? I love this stuff.

Now, just look at the quality of that picture, Harry.

Somebody! HARRY: Becky.

No. Becky!

Can't hear you.

I'm sorry. She lost a coin toss. I had to bury her further down the beach.

Couldn't even leave her a monitor, it would have shorted out by now.

No, no, no. No, that's a trick. You son of a bitch!

That's some kind of special-effects trick, isn't it?

If you'll just take a look at the VCR back there....

Oh, I'm sorry, you can't turn your head.

Let me assure you, Harry, the VCR is not on "play," it's on "record."

I'm gonna save this stuff.

The two of you are part of my home movies.

HARRY: You're insane.

VICKERS: Won't be long now, huh? Not long at all.

Oh, my God.

You are insane.

I promised that you'd see Becky again. I kept my promise. Is that insane?

(gasping, struggling) Oh, you bastard. You bastard.

VICKERS: There's a chance you can get out of this, Harry.

The tide might even set you free. It depends on how long you keep your cool... long you hold your breath, you see, Harry.

The water's so cold, so salty. (panting)

You're underneath, and you're holding your breath...

...waiting for that wave covering you to go back out... you can snatch a quick breath... (panting)

...before the next wave comes in.


Now, you've got a chance, Harry, if you don't lose your head.

Now, it looks like she's losing hers. - Oh, God, no!

VICKERS: Feel how hard your heart is beating, Harry?

(Becky coughing)

VICKERS: How fast?

Now, that's gonna make it harder for you to hold your breath, isn't it?

(Becky coughing)

BECKY: Oh, God.

Oh, the tide.

Coming in.

It's getting late, Harry.

Guess I'll have to trot along now. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

No. You enjoy the show.

At least until the monitor shorts out.

All right, come on, come on. Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Sorry, Harry. I really can't stay.

(Becky coughing)

Come on. Come back here, Richard. BECKY: Oh, God.

(Becky coughing)

Come on, Richard!

(engine rumbling)

Come on, Richard, please!

Oh, God. (coughing)

Harry. Harry. (coughing)

(waves crashing)

(electricity crackling)

(waves crashing) (bucket clunking)


(camera whirring)

(water burbling)

(engine rumbling)

(door opening, closing)


No, no. (crying)

(waves crashing)

(breathing heavily)

(Becky crying indistinctly)



(coughing) (laughing)

Oh, no! No! No!

(Becky screaming)

BECKY: No, no, no. (crying)

God, no, no, no.

(waves crashing)

Oh, my God.

(waves rumbling)

(shouting) (waves crashing)

HARRY: Richard.

I'm gonna get you. You hear me, Richard?

You hear me, Richard? I'm gonna get you.

You've gotta hold your breath there, Harry.

Gotta hold your breath.



(wind whistling)

(waves crashing)

(seagulls cawing)


The current pulled him out.

That's what happened, all right.

(waves crashing)

The current pulled him out. He's gone.

(bucket clattering)


(waves breaking)

(seagulls cawing)


Never mind where I told you to stand, you stand where I tell you.

Kid's so dumb, he doesn't know what time it is.

- By the way, what time is it? MAN 2: I don't know.

MAN 1: Stand here and keep your eye on the ball.


Now, let me see, where is...?

Boy, if that damn maid has been moving my stuff again, I swear I'll--


Undertow has carried them away.

Saved me the trouble.

Come off it.

No need to get jumpy.

They're all gone.

Blub, blub, blub, blub, blub, blub, blub.


(shower running)

(water burbling)

(footsteps squishing)

(squishing footsteps continue)

(shower stops)

(squishing footsteps continue)


(whirring stops)

(squishing footsteps continue)

Who's out there?



That you, Wentworth?

May I remind you, dear boy, I have the gun?

(squishing footsteps continue)

VICKERS: Wentworth?

I suggest you get out of here...

...or I'll shoot you.

Fair warning.

Wentworth? I'll shoot you dead!

Get out of here, Wentworth.

♪♪ You can't shoot us dead, Richard.

Because we're already dead.

We want to see you, Richard.

We want to see you, Richard. We want to see you, Richard.

BECKY: We want to see you.


HARRY: We dug a hole for you, Richard.

BECKY: On the beach.

HARRY: Below the high-tide line.


Here we come. (gunshot)

It's showtime!


Here we come, Richard. Here we come.


Let's go to the beach.

We just want you to come to the beach. We just want you to come to the beach.


Come with us. Come with us.

Come down to the beach. Come down to the beach.




If you don't panic...

...if you can hold your breath....


If you can hold your breath....


If you can hold your breath....

If you can hold your breath.... If you can hold your breath....

(laughing hysterically)

(Vickers screaming)

I can hold my breath...

...for a long time!

(laughing hysterically)

(waves rumbling)


(lightning crashes)

(coins clattering)

There, look at that. (scoffs)



MAN: What the...?

WOMAN: Oh, Dexter, you are such a child.

You and Henry both. You're such children.

But at least Henry has me to take care of him, don't you, dear?

Tabby, Richard, I'd like you to meet Dexter Stanley, our distinguished professor... the Zoology Department. Oh, how do--?

Tabby and Richard Raymond. They're new in the Math Department.

How do you do? What a lovely name you have.

Oh, thank you. Actually, it's Tabitha.

It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor Stanley.

Just Dex will do. Dex. Thank you.

This is Henry and Wilma Northrup. Oh, just call me Billie. Everyone does.

Billie. You need someone to show you the ropes... just come see me. I know all the best stores.

Well, nice to meet you. Nice to meet you.

Pleasure to meet you. So, are you buying or renting?

Oh, actually, we're renting at the moment. It's just as well.

Buying real estate in a college town is a frigging pain in the ass.

Take my word for it.

Henry is in the English Department, and Wilma--

I just take care of Henry. Believe me, he needs it.

Did you ever meet a man who didn't?


What's the matter? You're not drinking? Well, actually, we just got here.

Oh, well, we can take care of that.

You just come on with me. Henry, you stay here till I get back.

Excuse us, please. Yeah, nice to meet you.


♪♪ Oh, honey, these people are dry. Now, take care of them.

They don't know what they're doing.

Hi. Good to see you.

If Dex Stanley hadn't had his teeth capped, he'd have been out on his ass years ago.

Really? Well, my--

So when Parker told me that I was out of line...

...I told him he ought to get laid.


"I mean, Parker," I said, "if you'd just have your ashes hauled... wouldn't have to spend all this time playing Emily Vanderbilt."

Or Emily Van Buren, or whoever that etiquette crotch is.

Excuse me. I don't know why they keep inviting her.

Hello, Mrs. Forest, ladies. Oh, Professor Stanley.

Well, how about tonight? Maybe we could do it tonight?

Okay. That's great. All right, I'll call you about it.

I gather you'll be unavailable for chess tonight.


Henry, you know, I'm just about reaching a point where I--

Pardon me. Would one of you be Professor Stanley?

Yeah, I am. WOMAN: There's a telephone call for you.

DEXTER: Oh, yeah, all right. Thank you.

It's probably Charlie Gereson again with his damn ear mites.

He's gonna get the Nobel Prize before he's 20.

Especially if he's working at Amberson Hall in August.

No, no, he's downstairs. It's cooler.

Yeah, sure, I'll come tonight.

HENRY: Oh, thanks, Dex. Oh, hey, listen, what are friends for?

WILMA: Just call me Billie. Everyone does.

So I thought I ought to call you anyway, see what you thought, Professor Stanley.

Who told you I was here? Charlie Gereson? JANITOR: Yeah. I sent him out for a hamburger.

Just about twisted his arm.

That kid don't know if it's night or day when he gets going.

Yeah, he's very dedicated.

Look, I'd be almost willing to bet that crate's full of National Geographics...

...or back issues of the Reader's Digest.

Well, the date on it said 1834.

Did they publish the Reader's Digest way back then, Professor Stanley?

1834? Really? JANITOR: Yeah, it's stenciled right on the side.

June 19, 1834.

And then something about an arctic expedition.

Maybe there's something more interesting in your crate than National Geographics after all, Mike.

(engine turning over)

Because everyone in the department is looking to put the knife in you.

I mean, some of these so-called academics-- Wilma.

--make the shark in Jaws look like fucking Flipper.

Wilma. Your husband's calling you, Billie.

Oh, God, Henry, what's wrong now?


HENRY: Not a thing, Wilma.

(blows barrel)

Everything's just fine.


(polite clapping)

Hell of a shot. Bull's-eye.

WILMA: Oh, Henry, can't you do anything right?

HENRY: Huh? "Huh?"

That's what I figured. "Huh."

That's just what I'd expect from you.

I told you half an hour ago... get one of them kids in the monkey suits to bring the car around.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Oh, Henry, you are such a little kid.

I swear to God, you are.

I mean, where would you be without me to take care of you?

♪♪ DEXTER: I'm still betting your crate's full of old magazines and just plain junk.

(flashlight clicks on)

DEXTER: All the same, though....

An arctic expedition.

And that date.

Yeah, kind of gets you, doesn't it?

Yeah, it kind of does.

(grate banging)

I'm sorry. Got it.

MIKE: It's kind of heavy.

I'll just swing this end around.

Yeah. Move it over here.

DEXTER: I'm surprised you didn't open this thing yourself.

MIKE: No, I figured that was for you.

DEXTER: How come you didn't tell Charlie Gereson?

Well, he's just a grad student.

And with Professor Tirrell being over in England...

...I figure you're the boss.

Hold this on it, will you? Yeah.

What made you look under here, anyway?

I flipped a quarter trying to decide...

...if I should buff the second-floor hallway first or wash the lab windows.

Only when it came down, I missed it, and it rolled under here.

♪♪ MIKE: Oh, there it is.

Probably would have let it go...

...only that was my last quarter for the Coke machine.

It's not very nice in there, is it? God, I hate tight places.

Are you okay, doc? Yeah.


Help me out with this, will you? I think we might really have something here.

All right. Okay?

DEXTER: Put it right on this table here.

What's wrong? It felt like something shifted in there.

Did you feel it when we lifted it on the table?

I did feel something under the stairs. It felt heavy.

Yeah, but it seemed like something moved on its own.

Well, if there ever really were any living specimens in there...

...I doubt if they're feeling very lively after, what, 147 years?

Oh, yeah. Sure.


I guess I must be spending too much time in the sun, huh, doc?

Well, let's get this open, shall we? Yeah.

I got a hammer and chisel out in the closet. Just wait while I go get them.

Yeah. Hit those lights, will you, Mike?


And don't just leave the pots soaking like you did last time.

Scrub them and put them away.

Just because you and your intellectual friend...

...are gonna play chess, doesn't mean you have to leave a mess for me.


Wipe the stove.

Yes, Billie.

And kindly have him out of here before I get back from my classes.

But frankly, that tobacco he smokes makes me wanna ralph.

♪♪ Yes, Billie. Yes.

"Yes, Billie. Yes, Billie."


Oh, Henry. What would you do without me?

I don't know, Billie.

Well, on that we're even.

Enjoy your chess.

(footsteps clicking)

(lock clinking)

I bet they're worth something, huh, doc? Yeah.


No, no. Be my guest, Mike. It's your find.


You're right. There's probably nothing in there but rocks and plants...

...that'll turn to dust if you touch them.

But I'm pretty hot to see, just the same. To tell you the truth, so am I.


Doc, it's loosening up. Could you...?

Yeah, sure.


(clinking continues)

(wood creaking)







Christ, I can't see a frigging thing.

Where did I leave my flashlight? Do you remember, doc?

Never mind. Let's just get this last nail out of there.


MIKE: Do you hear that?


There's something in there, doc.

There's something shiny.


It looks like a couple of emeralds. Don't!


Help me, doc! Help me, doc!

God, it's biting. Help me!


Oh, God.









(outlet sparking)

(drink rattling)

(doors banging)

Oh, Jesus. Charlie. Charlie! Professor Stanley, what--?

The janitor. The crate.

It was-- It was....

What happened? Professor, slow down.

Charlie, listen, we gotta get the campus security.

We gotta get the-- Slow down, Professor Stanley, slow down.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Charlie, it's the-- You know the janitor? You know Mike, the janitor?

Yes, of course I do. Well....




(scraping continues)


It just sucked him in.

That's pretty far out, Professor Stanley. It's true, it's true. I swear to God, it's true.

Come on, we gotta get the campus police. No, campus security's no good.

If I'm having trouble swallowing this, what the fuck are they going to think?

I don't know what they would think.

I don't know what they would think.

They'd think you'd been off on a hell of a toot.

But, Charlie.... No, no.

They'd think we'd both been off on a hell of a toot.

Got you seeing Tasmanian devils instead of pink elephants.

I think I'll go down...

...and see how the land lays.

No, don't! It may be out. No, I doubt that.

Charlie, please don't go down there. CHARLIE: Be right back, Professor Stanley.

He'll see it.

He'll see the crate, he'll see the blood, he'll see Mike, and then he'll believe me.



There, see the blood? Do you think I'm crazy now?

You think that I killed him? Look at the blood. Look--

It's gone.

What's gone? The....

It got out.

I thought it would be potbound after all these years, but it got out.

It pushed the crate off the table. From the way this track looks....

It pushed the crate back in under the stairs...

...where it felt safe for so long.

Hey, Charlie.

Charlie, I really think--


(flashlight clicks on)


Charlie, listen, don't go in there. If you had seen that thing....

Don't worry.


It looks like it's been through a hay baler.

Now do you believe me?

Charlie, don't go near it.

I don't want the crate...

...I want that shoe.

I wanna measure the bite marks.

Maybe we can figure out...

...what we're dealing with here.








(thudding) (roaring)


No, Charlie!



We gotta--

We gotta stop it. We gotta stop it.

What? Two people are dead already.

We gotta-- Dear Christ, they died.

Hey, Dex. Dex, hold it.

(door closing)

What happened? Two people are dead already.

And.... Who's dead?

Where's Wilma? She's gone. Dex, what the--?

What the hell happened to you?

Two people are dead, and I could be blamed.

I know that's a terrible consideration to have at a time like this, Henry....


HENRY: Good God.

Last time I saw someone do that was in the movies.

DEXTER: It could be my ass, Henry, and it wasn't me.

It was that thing in the-- in the crate.

I don't even know what it was.

What two people? Who is dead?

Mike, the janitor in Amberson Hall...

...and Charlie Gereson.

He wanted to measure the bite marks, Henry.


I guess he got his chance.

I certainly guess he did. Dex, Dex.

Dex, I can't do anything for you...

...unless you stop being so goddamned elliptical.

Now, just slow down. Tell me the whole story from the beginning.

Can you do that? All right. All right.

I think I can do that now.

Oh, thank God for you, Henry.


I had a hundred crazy ideas about how to get rid of it coming over here.

I kept thinking about Ryder's Quarry.

You know that place? I know it.

I kept thinking that would be deep enough...

...if only there was a way to get that crate over there.

You know, I kept thinking if we....


I don't know anymore.

Am I going crazy, Henry?


I have to use the facilities, Dex.

I'll be back in a minute.

And then we'll decide what we need to do.

Thanks, Henry. Well, what are friends for?


(pills rattling)

Let's get you another drink, Dex. No, no, no, I've had enough.

It's a wonder I'm not plastered out of my gourd.

Shock, I guess.

Just one more for the both of us while we talk this over.

We may need it. Yeah, okay.

(clock ticking)


(door closes, locks)

(engine revving)

(engine stops, emergency brake ratchets)

(car door shuts)

My God.


(flashlight rattling)


(tap squeaking, water running)

(emergency brake ratcheting)

(car door closes)


(keys rattling)

Henry, goddamn it!

How many times have I told you to lock the goddamn door?


(water sloshing)

WILMA: Henry!

(mop slapping)

HENRY: Wilma, I've had to leave in a hurry because of a call from Dexter Stanley.

He seems to have gotten himself in a great deal of trouble.

I'm ashamed to tell you of this, but ever since Dexter's wife died...

...he's had problems coping with certain young female grad students.

He's been able to cover up several incidents...

...but this one looks very serious.

It seems he got a young woman to accompany him to Amberson Hall...

...under false pretenses and then attacked her.

When Dex called me, he was barely coherent.

He was gibbering with fear and crying, I think.

Aw. Poor Dex.

HENRY: I tried to get him to tell me what had happened to the girl...

...but for the most part, he only kept repeating:

"It's awful, Henry. It's awful."

Wilma, could you come out here?

I know it's asking a lot...

...but you're always so clear-headed about these things...

...and you know how to be firm.

I think Dex could use a firmer hand than mine right now.

Not to mention the girl herself.

He said that she had curled up in a dark place and won't come out.

I'm sorry to have to ask you to come over to Amberson Hall and help me out...

...but as you so often say, what would I do without you?

What indeed, Henry? What indeed?



(horn honking)

(mop slapping)


(door closing)

(bucket rattling)

WILMA: Henry?


Henry, where are you?

HENRY: The laboratory, Wilma.




(door closes)


What are you doing creeping around down there?

Where's Dex?

What kind of a mess has he gotten himself into?

Well, it's easier if I just show you, I think. Come on down.

What's this? Oh, I found them in the....

Oh, Henry.

Did he beat her?


Well, how bad is she? Is she conscious?


HENRY: I think it's easier if you just see for yourself, Wilma.


What are you laughing about?


Your best friend gets in a scrape with a girl and you're laughing?


Well, there is a funny side to it, Wilma.

Wait till you see. You'll think so yourself.


You're hysterical, Henry. It's just what I would have expected.

No, I don't think you'll expect this, Wilma.

No, this is going to be an entirely new experience.

What are you doing, Henry? Let go of me. Henry.

What's going on? The lab's the other way.

The lab, yes, but the girl is under the stairs, Billie.

Wait till you see. That's what's so funny.

The girl has crawled under the stairs, and she won't come out.

She's all curled up, you know, like a little baby.

Oh, Henry. And making funny sounds and....

What did he do to her?


You can get her out, Billie.

I know you can get her out.

Why don't you give it a try?

You always know how to handle these things, Billie, no problem.

No trouble.

I know you can get her out.

♪♪ What are you doing, Henry? What are you doing?

What I should have done a long time ago. Get in there, Wilma!

Just tell it to call you Billie, you bitch!

Stop it. Stop it, Henry. I'll scream.

Oh, scream all you want. I'll help you. Wake up!

Wake up, whatever you are. Wake up, wake up! Dinnertime!

Poison meat! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

Wake up. Wake up. Wake....

Well, that was great, Henry. That was just great.

You think this is a Friday-night fight?

Huh? (scoffs)

Is that what you think?

You wanna see some real punching?


Same old Henry, afraid of your own shadow.

You know what, Henry? You're a regular barnyard exhibit.

Sheep's eyes, chicken guts, piggy friends...

...and shit for brains.

No good at departmental politics, no good at making money... good at making an impression on anybody.

And no good at all in bed.

When was the last time you got it up, Henry, huh?

When was the last time you were a man in our bed?

Now, get out of my way, Henry...

...or I swear to God you'll be wearing your balls for earrings.

And I swear to God, if you ever touch me again--




Oh, just-- Just tell it to call you Billie.

(gagging and retching)

(lock rattling)

(lock clicks open)


(lock clicking)

(chain squishing)

(chain rattling)

(clattering) (roaring)

(chain rattling)

(roaring) (chain rattling)


(lock clicking shut) (roaring)

(chain rattling) (roaring)

♪♪ HENRY: I didn't see anyone, not a soul.

At this time of the year and no other, the campus is almost totally deserted.

The summer session is over, and the fall semester doesn't start for two more weeks.

It was almost hellishly perfect.

I never saw so much as a pair of headlights.

"Henry, what did you do with the crate? The crate?"

That's the beauty of it.

You provided the final piece in the jigsaw puzzle yourself.

The crate is at the bottom of Ryder's Quarry.

I drove out there with the remains of three human beings.

Well, two human beings and Wilma.

I began to wonder, where did they go?

I mean, how much could it eat?


HENRY: I think maybe at the very end... began to suspect what was happening.




So, the question is, what happens now?

There's no evidence of foul play, I've seen to that.

And there are no bodies.


No, I don't suppose there are.

So, what about you, Dexter?

What are you gonna say?



Thanks. Thank you, Dexter.

No need to thank me.

After all, what are friends for?

You understand, of course, that I expect to whip your ass at chess...

...twice a week for the rest of our lives.

We'll have to see about that, won't we?


I haven't done anything to anybody.

Neither have I.

What if I had waked up before you got here and called the police?

You didn't.

What if it gets out, Henry?

What if it gets out of that crate?


If you saw the way I chained it up, you wouldn't worry.

That thing is drowned in its box 70 feet down.

So, relax.



(water sloshing)

(wood shattering)

(lightning crashes)




(thunder rolling)


(lightning crashes) (water running)

Goddamn bugs.

I'll get them bugs.

I own this goddamn building.

There's not going to be any more damn bugs!


(phone beeping)

Heads are going to roll, I promise you that.

- Oh, yes. (thunder rolling)

Hello, is that you, White? MAN: No, sir, Mr. Pratt.

This is George Gendron here. I just got off the plane from Seattle.

I have my report ready for typing and I--

The building superintendent is on vacation, George.

GEORGE: Sir? You believe that? Vacation.

GEORGE: Well, I-- I told them I wanted to hear from him...

...within the hour. Within the hour. And he now has--


--exactly 26 minutes to go...

...or he can stay on vacation permanently. Bastard.

GEORGE: Mr. Pratt, I got to the office here and found a telex from Seattle...

...I thought you'd want to--

What are you doing in the office at 9:30, George?

There's no overtime at the executive level, you know.

GEORGE: Yes, I know that. It's about the Pacific Aerodyne takeover.

Bugger Pacific Aerodyne. They're done for. They've had it.

Norman Castonmeyer is a dinosaur.

He's too fucking blind to find his way into the nearest tar pit.

GEORGE: But, Mr. Pratt--

PRATT: Air-pollution count's up to almost 7, George.

People are dying of carbon-monoxide poisoning, and they don't even know it.

GEORGE: Yes, sir, but--

Oh, I found another cockroach this evening, George.

GEORGE: Oh, no. One of those big ones...

...right here in my $3200-a-month penthouse apartment.

My supposedly germ-proof apartment.

Now, would you like to tell me, George, how an apartment can be germ-proof...

...when it's not even bug-proof?

GEORGE: Well, I guess it can't, Mr. Pratt. But I wanted you to know...

...that Pratt International now owns a majority of Pacific Aerodyne's stock.

Of course we do. I can't talk to you now, George.

I'm gonna clear up this damn cockroach problem once and for all. Bastards.

(computer beeping)

I'm not gonna have any bugs in my building.

I loathe bugs.

GEORGE: Yes, sir, but, Mr.-- Loathe them.

GEORGE: I realize that. But there's something you should know--

I've gotta let you go, George. You did well.

Go out and fuck somebody. But wear a damn rubber.

Everybody's got the damn herpes these days.

GEORGE: Sir, Norman Castonmeyer shot himself an hour ago.

(lightning crashes)

What? GEORGE: He did it when....

Well, when it became clear there was no way to stop the takeover.

At least, that's what his wife thinks.


Now we won't have to offer the old fart a seat on the board of directors.

GEORGE: Yeah. (whirring)

Now, get off the phone, George. Never run good news into the ground.

I've got this bug problem.

Once you get bugs, you never get rid of them.

They breed in the crawl spaces, in the conduits... the very core of the building itself.

(cockroach crawling)

GEORGE: Mr. Pratt? Mr. Pratt?

Goodbye, George.

GEORGE: Yes, sir. Good night, Mr. Pratt.

(phone disconnects)


(hissing) (whirring)

Once they get a foothold in the building, you never get rid of them.

(lightning crashes)




(phone beeping)

Reynolds? White?

Talk to me.

WOMAN: I just called to tell you what a monster you are, Mr. Pratt...

...and how I will rejoice when you're finally dead.

Lots of people are gonna rejoice when I'm dead.

Who are you? WOMAN: Lenora Castonmeyer.

I'm the wife of the man you murdered this afternoon.

Mrs. Castonmeyer. How are you?

LENORA: I hope they keep hell hot for you, you son of a bitch...

...I hope they do.

It wasn't enough for you to drive him to his knees, was it?

No, you had to kill him as well.

He came home, and his eyes....

His eyes were so dead.

I asked him what was wrong.

What could be so bad to make his eyes look that way?

♪♪ And the only word he could say was your name.

Ten minutes later, I heard the shot.

Yes, George Gendron told me old Norman went out with a bang.

LENORA: How many men have you destroyed?

How many men have you killed, you monster?

Only the stupid ones.

Only the ones who handed me a knife and then stretched out their throats.

Only the ones who, if you'll pardon the expression, fucked up.



Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got this bug problem... we'll have to defer your charming conversation for another time.

LENORA: I hope you die! By the way--

LENORA: I hope you get cancer in the worst place.

Mrs. Castonmeyer-- LENORA: Leprosy.

- Scream in hell forever, you monster. Mrs. Katzenjammer...

...would you mind telling me who gave you my private number?

I'd like to fire him.

LENORA: It was in my husband's address book, you son of a bitch.


Well, I can't fire him, can I?

(line disconnects)

(computer warbling and beeping)

(whirring) (chittering)

(phone beeping)

That better be you, Reynolds.

- Talk to me. MAN: It's Carl Reynolds, sir.

- I'm calling from Orlando, Florida. Orlando? Florida?

CARL: Yes, the wife and I decided to take the kids to Disney World this year--

I don't give a fuck if you decided to take the kids to Attica this year.

There are still roaches in this place, Reynolds.

I killed one not five minutes ago. CARL: I see. I....

Do you like your job, Reynolds?

CARL: Sir, I've spoken to Mr. White, who's on desk tonight.

Do you like your job, Reynolds? CARL: Yes, sir.

I'm glad to hear it, because I wanna see White.

CARL: Mr. Pratt, it's almost quarter of ten-- And if I don't first see White...

...and then the exterminators within the space of a half an hour... will have no job by midnight tonight, understand?

Next year you can take the wife and kids to Disney World on your welfare check.

Have you got that? Are we together on this?

CARL: Yes, sir. Good, I trust we are. Goodbye.


You have to watch them.

Oh, yes.

Castonmeyer, Reynolds...


That's all they are.

All of them.

And although they're essentially brainless... have to watch them...

...because they creep up on you.

They creep up on you.

(lightning crashes)

(electronic warbling)

(doorbell ringing)

PRATT: Talk to me. Who's there?

Good evening there, Mr. Pratt.

Got bugs again, huh, Mr. Pratt?

Don't you talk to me like that, you hear? MAN: What way, Mr. Pratt?

Like I was crazy.

Oh, no, sir, Mr. Pratt, sir.

I don't think you is crazy. Not at all.

I was just trying to run down in my mind...

...who might have a 24-hour fumigating service.

I might be able to get Pirelli Brothers out here by, shall we say, 11:30?

You might go far, White.

I've noticed that in service jobs, people like yourself often do.

People of color. Yes, 11:30 would be fine.

Thanks, Mr. Pratt, sir.

I'll call them just as soon as I finish with that shower on 23.

Do it first. Do it now. Yes, sir. Right now.


Only stunned.

That's the explanation.

Roaches are very hard to kill, and they're quick.

They can creep up on you.

They can creep up on you if you let them.

(cockroaches skittering)



See, Mrs. Castonmeyer, I grew up in Hell's Kitchen.

Bugs everywhere.

(lightning crashes)

PRATT: I know what to do with a bug when I see it.

Spray it. Squash it. Kill it.

(lightning crashes)

What the fuck?

Another son-of-a-bitching blackout.

If it was my power company, this would never happen.

(lightning crashes)

Bastards. Goddamn bugs.

(cockroach skittering)


(cockroaches skittering)

Fucking roaches. Goddamn b--


Bug bastards. I'll kill you, you goddamn little bug-eyed--

(shouting) (cockroaches skittering)

(lightning crashes)

(alarm blaring)

(cockroaches skittering)

(alarm stops) (cockroaches skittering)

Come on, come on, come on. What do I pay you for?


MAN: Police, Emergency.

It's about time. What are you people doing down there?

MAN: We got problems tonight, fella.

- Or haven't you looked out your window? Listen, this is the Upson Pratt.

I've got bugs.

MAN: Everybody's got bugs tonight, and I don't have time for bullshit.

No, no, you don't understand. These are cockroaches.

The biggest ones I've ever seen. It has gotta stop. It's gotta stop!

MAN: On a slow night we could talk about it, but this isn't a slow night--

I don't think you understand who you're talking to.

This is Upson Pratt. Upson Pratt!

(line disconnects)

I'll have your job, you asshole. I'll have your--


(lightning crashes)

White. White, talk to me.

White. White, I know you can hear me. The PA's on the emergency circuit.

White, talk to me!

WHITE: Mr. Pratt, I'm stuck in the damn elevator. You can't be stuck in the elevator.

I want you up here now. There are roaches, hundreds of them.

WHITE: I'm gonna be here till the power comes on. Sorry.

I'll have your job, you black bastard.

(cockroaches skittering)

(lightning crashes)

PRATT: Come on, come on.

You'll never get in here. Never.

And when this blackout is over, people are gonna pay. Oh, yes.

And you'll pay too, every one of you. Every damn one of you.

I've been beating bugs all my life, and I'll beat you, too.

Bastards. Ba--


Talk to me.


LENORA: Pratt, you old monster. Oh, I hope you die.

I hope you die.

- I hope you die! (cockroaches skittering)



LENORA: I hope you die.

COMPUTERIZED VOICE: It's 10:29-- It's 10-- It's 11 -- It's 12--

It's 1 -- It's 2-- Four-- One-- It's 2--

Three-- Four-- It's 4-- Four-- Two-- It's 4-- Four-- Three-- Four-- Four--

(sirens blaring)


(doorbell ringing)

WHITE: Mr. Pratt?

You there, Mr. Pratt?

Mr. Pratt? Talk to me.

(computer warbling) (laughing)

WHITE: Talk to me, talk to me. Honky bastard.

What's the matter, Mr. Pratt? Bugs got your tongue?



(cockroaches skittering)

(record playing last groove)

WHITE: Mr. Pratt. Mr. Pratt. (doorbell ringing)



(wind blowing)

(lightning crashes)

(garbage can clattering)

(whistling, shouting)

(garbage can clattering)

Now eat, you bigmouth.

(garbage can lid clattering)

Chew your food before you swallow!

What's that? It's a comic book.


It's a comic book. What?

It's a comic book! A comic book!

MAN 1: My kids love these things. MAN 2: I love them too.

Hey, look, look. You can send away for all this stuff here.

Look, x-ray glasses. They don't work.

They make your eyes black. You look in and it's a gag, you know?

Look, an authentic voodoo doll.

Somebody already sent for it. Yeah, we can't get that.

How about this?

"Tired of getting sand kicked in your face?"


Where's Billy?

He'll be down in a minute. I know he's up.


Stan, are you all right?

I didn't get much sleep last night.

The storm?

No, it's this goddamn stiff neck. I can barely move my head.

Well, you must have strained it.

Yeah. Yeah, I guess. I don't know.


Well, you poor old bear. You want me to get some Bengay?

No. No.

(puncturing) (groaning)

I'll teach him to throw away my comic books.

(puncturing continues) (groaning continues)

Ready for another shot, Dad?


(cackling laughter)


(cackling laughter)