A mysterious puzzlebox leads the Pals to the ninth circle of Hell, where they confront a gang of sadomasochistic demons.
When Edgar Allan Poe is missing after a violent altercation with Henry W. Longfellow, a mysterious puzzlebox leads the Midnight Pals to the ninth circle of Hell, where they confront a gang of sadomasochistic demons. Brian Jacques humorously outwits a cat.
Content notes: violence, gory noises, blood, swearing and raised voices.
CAST:
with
and special guest cat
Script by Robin Johnson, edited by Bitter Karella. Music and audio production by Robin Johnson.
A transcript of this episode is available at https://midnight-pals.simplecast.com/episodes/s02e01-the-tale-of-the-hellraiser/transcript
Submitted for the Approval of the Midnight Pals is a work of social and literary satire. All characters are fictitious, especially the real ones; any elements of work not in the public domain are used for the purpose of parody and comment, and no challenge is intended to the validity of any intellectual property. The Midnight Pals is the creation of Bitter Karella ©
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SCENE 1--EXT. CAMPFIRE
CAMPFIRE AMBIENCE (FIRE CRACKLE, WIND IN TREES, CRICKETS) FADES IN.
BARKER: I hereby declare this meeting of the Midnight Society... sexy!!
KING: Clive! You gotta take it seriously! If we don’t say the proper words, it doesn’t count as a real meeting and we can’t tell a story.
KOONTZ: Maybe I could open the meeting.
BARKER: I don’t know Dean, it’s a big responsibility.
KOONTZ: I know all the words, I promise!
KING: All right, you know what? Have a go, Dean. Maybe you’ll do better than Clive.
KOONTZ: (EXCITED, TRIPPING OVER WORDS) I dearly eclaire this meeping of the Moonlight Sobriety--I mean this... mooting of the Marmite variety... uh... (FRUSTRATED WITH HIMSELF) aw...
KING: Never mind. You tried your best, Dean, that’s what counts. Howard, you want a shot?
LOVECRAFT: I call this meeting of Concerned Citizens Against the Italian Menace-- oh, wait, I’ll try again...
KING: Don’t! Mary, I take it you’re still--
SHELLEY: I’m not saying that dork shit.
KING: Seriously, has nobody heard from Edgar? How long has it been?
BARKER: I think the last time he was here was when Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was telling the Tale of the Skeleton in Armor, and Edgar threatened to fuck him up.
LOVECRAFT: Ooh, yeah. I’ve never seen Edgar so angry about anything.
BARKER: It was the way Henry didn’t even rise to it. That really got to him. Just sat there and smiled politely.
KING: Ooh, he went berserk. Who’da thought Edgar was even strong enough to lift a man off the ground by his beard?
SHELLEY: (SINCERELY) God, he was fuckin’ terrifying.
LOVECRAFT: When he uprooted that tree and said he was gonna prematurely bury it in Henry’s--
KOONTZ: (WHIMPERING, TRAUMATISED) Aaah! G-guys, can we not talk about that night? E-ever?
KING: It’s OK, Dean. You don’t have to go to that place.
BARKER: That was... six days ago?
KING: Oh, dear. Last time Edgar was missing for six days, he was found wandering the streets of Baltimore, delirious and hallucinating.
LOVECRAFT: B-Baltimore, like, in Maryland? Oh my god, does that even count as New England?
KING: No. It’s a (SHUDDERING) Mid-Atlantic state.
LOVECRAFT: We gotta help him.
KING: He’s probably just in one of his funks... I’ll check in on him tomorrow. Guess I’m opening the meeting again. I hereby call the Midnight Society to order. Mary, I believe it’s your turn in the spotlight? (CHUCKLING) Or should I say the flashlight... light?
SHELLEY: Don’t you shine that bloody thing at me, Steve. Right. Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this the Tale of the Transformation. [SPARKLE] It’s about this hot Italian--
AS THE SCENE FADES:
LOVECRAFT: Aaaaaaaaarghh!!
SHELLEY: Howard, I haven’t even started.
SCENE 2--EXT. STREET/INT. EDGAR’S BASEMENT
FADE IN CITY STREET NOISE IN INDETERMINATE CENTURY.
KNOCKING ON DOOR, HEARD FROM OUTSIDE.
KING: (CALLING) Edgar! Edgar, are you home? [MORE KNOCKING] C’mon, Ed, we missed you at the campfire last night! Again.
CAT MEOWS
KING: Hey there, Catterina! [CATTERINA MEOWS] What’s that? Percy Shelley’s fallen down the old well? [CATTERINA MEOWS AGAIN, IMPATIENTLY] No? [MEOW] What about Edgar? [MEOW] You want me to follow you? ...through that basement window? Looks like a bit of a squeeze, but OK... (GRUNTS AS HE ATTEMPTS TO CLIMB THROUGH A TOO-SMALL WINDOW)
FADE TO INDOOR AMBIENCE.
POE: (FRUSTRATED PUZZLE-SOLVING NOISES, TALKING TO HIMSELF) [SOUNDS OF PUZZLE BOX PARTS CLICKING, TURNING, EERIE MUSIC-BOX MUSIC] Hmmm. So turn... twist... press... pull.. (BREATHLESSLY) Yes! Nearly got it...
MASSIVE CLATTERING AS STEPHEN FALLS THROUGH THE WINDOW
KING: Ow!
POE: Aaah! [THUMP AS HE DROPS THE BOX] Steve! I almost had it! What are you doing here?
KING: What are you doing here?
POE: I live here!
KING: Yeah, but what are you doing? You haven’t been at the campfire for six days. The guys are all worried. Edgar... is this another Baltimore situation?
POE: (DISTRACTED) Whuh? No... I’ve been trying to solve this. (COMING ROUND) Six days? Huh. Guess I’ve been a little hyperfocused.
KING: On what? Hey, is that a puzzle box?
POE: Neat, huh? I found it inside the basement wall when I was... uh... unbricking and re-bricking it for reasons we don’t have to go into right now. By the way, if anyone asks about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, I spoke to him in Boston yesterday. He was fine.
KING: That is neat. What d’you think’s inside? Have you got far?
POE: I’m really not sure. If you turn this circle here, it starts playing eerie music... [EERIE MUSIC BOX MUSIC STARTS] ...then you twist this flap at the corner while pressing the panel here, and a lever kinda... [FLICKING NOISE] flicks out, you pull that, and... [MUSIC PETERS OUT] that’s as far as I’ve gotten...
KING: Oh boy, I love me a good ol’ puzzle. I bet the pair of us can crack this. Give it here! You tried bopping it?
POE: Bopping it?
KING: Yeah like... [EERIE MUSIC STARTS AGAIN] bop it... (QUICKLY) here, now you!
THEY BOP/TWIST/PULL IT IN RHYTHM WITH THE EERIE MUSIC
POE: ...bop it...
KING: ...twist it...
POE: ...pull it... this is fun!
KING: ...bop it...
POE: ...twist it...
KING: ...pull it...
POE: ...bop it... [WEIRD MECHANICAL NOISES] whoah! [SCRAPING AS THE BOX SCUTTERS ACROSS THE FLOOR]
KING: Aw, you dropped it!
POE: It flew out of my hands. Something’s happening, it’s changing shape!
KING: I guess we solved it--whoah!
CHAINS SNAP DOWN FROM CEILING AND FLAIL AROUND THE ROOM
POE: Aaarghh!
CLANKING AND GROSS FLESHY NOISES AS THE CHAINS PIERCE EDGAR’S BODY AND YANK HIM UP TO THE CEILING
KING: What in the gosh-darn heck??
POE: Aaaaaarghh!
KING: Edgar, did you put those chains in your ceiling?
POE: No! Get me down!
KING: I can’t reach. You got a stepladder?
POE: No.
KING: Well, I think you just learned why everyone should have a stepladder!
POE: (IN PAIN) Steve! Get help!
KING: It was something to do with the box...
POE: (PAINED) Get Clive! This seems like his territory... (STRUGGLING) Aargh! I can’t get loose!
KING: Nah, this old puzzlebox got you up there, I’ll bet there’s a way it can get you down. Maybe if I... bop it again... [MECHANICAL BOX NOISES. CHAIN CLANKS]
POE: Agh! That’s worse! Get! Clive!
KING: Or push this bit... [GROSS NOISES]
POE: Aaaaargh!!
STONE GRINDING
KING: Now that’s weird. Your wall’s opening up!
POE: (PAINED) I... saw... Longfellow... in Boston yesterday... oh, it’s the other wall. Never mind.
KING: What?
POE: What?
DEMONIC MUSIC. MONSTER NOISES, FOOTSTEPS IN DISTANCE
KING: Uh... how about I call Clive?
POE: Yes! [CHAINS JINGLE] Agh! Please!
KING: [FIDDLING WITH PHONE] Ah, there’s no reception down here. I’m just gonna step outside, Edgar, don’t go anywhere.
POE: Steve. Steve, don’t--
KING: --leave you hanging? (CHUCKLE) I’ll be right back, Edgar. See, Catterina’ll look after you! Catterina--guard!
CELLAR DOOR CLOSES. FADING FOOTSTEPS OF STEPHEN CLIMBING THE STAIRS.
CATTERINA MEOWS
POE: No, I CAN’T feed you right now.
FADE
SCENE 3--INT. COMIC CONVENTION
CROWD MURMUR, MOVEMENT
CELLPHONE RINGS
BARKER: (ANSWERING PHONE) Yeah?
KING: [TELEPHONE FILTER] Hi, Clive, it’s Stephen. Stephen King! Hey, uh, are you busy?
BARKER: Not terribly. Getting some work done on a new story and an abstract painting while directing a movie and tabling at a comic book convention.
KING: Do you think you could make it over to Edgar’s house? There’s a bit of a situation here.
BARKER: What sort of situation? Are we talking Code Baltimore? (OFF PHONE) Five dollars. Thanks. Don’t look at page seventeen without eye protection.
KING: Not exactly... Edgar found this weird puzzlebox in his wall, and--
BARKER: What? Steve, stop. Don’t solve the puzzlebox. Repeat, do NOT attempt to solve the demon summoning puzzlebox. I’ll be over as soon as I can.
KING: The what now puzzlebox?
BARKER: Look, it’s just a thing I got from an old boyfriend, OK? I bricked it up in Edgar’s wall so that you guys wouldn’t find it. (OFF PHONE) OK, can someone get the bees back on Tony, we gotta get this scene in the can!
KING: You bricked it up in Edgar’s wall?
BARKER: Yeah, I was over for lunch and you know Edgar, he’s got that awesome basement and there’s always a trowel and a bucket of wet cement around the place. How’d he get it out anyway? (OFF PHONE) D’you think it needs a dab more red around the weird fish-eyed bird skull?
KING: Uh... that’s another thing, I think he might have murdered Henry Longfellow.
BARKER: Oh he totally did. You shoulda read his review of Ballads of the Night, whew! Saucer of milk for table two.
KING: No, I mean... uh, anyway. We solved the box and--
BARKER: You did WHAT??
KING: Yeah, it’s all about finding the right sequence. Turn it, twist it, press it, pull it, bop it--
BARKER: (URGENTLY) Oh my god, Steve, I JUST told you NOT to solve the sex demon puzzle box!!
KING: Uh, you didn’t say sex demons.
BARKER: Have they come yet?
KING: Who?
BARKER: You’ll know them when you see them. OK, don’t do anything. Tell Edgar not to struggle. I’ll be right over. [HANGS UP] OK, cut! I gotta go, something came up. Vanessa, you’re in charge. These comics are all five dollars, except that one which is not to be sold or shown to anyone under any circumstances. Give the painting an hour to dry and then flog it for, I dunno. Five hundred. More if the buyer looks gullible. Colman, catch those bees before they scare off the art dealers. And someone get Tony some hydrocortisone.
FADE.
SCENE 4--EDGAR’S BASEMENT
CLANKING OF CHAINS
POE: (PAINED NOISES)
CATTERINA MEOWS. SOUND OF CAT PAWING SOMETHING
POE: (STILL IN PAIN THROUGHOUT SCENE) Yeah, I know, Catterina, I must look like a very engaging dangly toy. What’s that you’re playing with?
ADORABLE MEOWS. SOUND OF PUZZLEBOX SKEETERING AROUND THE FLOOR.
POE: No. Don’t touch that puzzlebox. That’s not a cat toy! [CATTERINA PAWS SOMETHING. MECHANICAL NOISES, DEMONIC MUSIC] Ah, shit, what did you do? Master’s very cross, Catterina. That box is not for kitties! I’m starting to suspect it’s not even for humans...
PINHEAD: (ARRIVING) No. It’s for sadistic demons who care only for their own pleasure, to whom human suffering means nothing. On second thoughts, maybe it is for kitties. Good girl, Catterina.
CATTERINA CHIRRUPS AND PURRS IN RESPONSE TO BEING PETTED
POE: Uh. She likes you. That’s usually bad. Who are you?
PINHEAD: There are those that call me... Pinhead.
POE: Pleasure to meet you, Mr Pinhe--
PINHEAD: I disembowel them. It’s not a name I’m fond of.
POE: ...sir. Or whatever.
PINHEAD: I am the High Priest of Hell! The Lord of the Underworld! The Tyrant of Tartarus, the Pope of Pain, the Lama of Lamentation.
POE: But you do have a lot of pins in your head. [CLANK] Aargh!!
PINHEAD: Who summoned me?
POE: Summoned you? (TRYING TO LAUGH IT OFF, STILL IN PAIN) Is that what opening the box does? Oh, this is embarrassing. That may have been me. And my friend Stephen. But it was a mistake! This must happen all the time, right? I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you-- [CLANK] ow!
PINHEAD: That is unfortunate. Nevertheless the door has been opened.
POE: It was really Steve who got it over the hump, you know?
PINHEAD: The call has been issued and we must answer.
POE: ...”We”?
PINHEAD: Cenobites, come forth! Meet my most trusted commanders... [MUSIC CUE AND MONSTER EFFECTS AS EACH CENOBITE IS INTRODUCED] Gimp Xenomorph! Blues Brother Jabba the Hutt! Enby who looks like the robot Thomas the Tank Engine would turn into if he was a Transformer!
POE: (WEAKLY) Hi, everyone. I’d serve coffee, but I’m still chained to the ceiling.
PINHEAD: Cut him down!
A ROPE IS CUT. CHAINS CRASH TO THE FLOOR, EDGAR AND ALL
POE: Aaagh--[LANDING]--oof! Thank you... as I said, it’s all been a misunderstanding, I’m sure I don’t want to keep you--
PINHEAD: Take him.
EDGAR IS DRAGGED OFF BY THE DEMONS.
FADE
SCENE 5--INT. EDGAR’S BASEMENT
AMBIENCE FADES BACK IN. SEVERAL PEOPLE COME DOWN THE STAIRS
KING: [THROUGH DOOR] Edgar’s right in--
CELLAR DOOR BURSTS OPEN
KING: --here... or he was... right on the ceiling... up above that pile of chains.
BARKER: Ooh. Wherever he is, I hope his tetanus shots are up to date.
FOOTSTEP. CATTERINA YOWLS
KING: Oh, I’m sorry, Catterina, I didn’t see you down there. Turn the lights on, Clive.
BARKER: Turn the lights on, Mary.
SHELLEY: Turn the lights on, Howard.
LOVECRAFT: Turn the lights on, Dean.
KOONTZ: [FIDDLING WITH GLASS LAMPS] I don’t know how to work these old gas ones.
KING: Careful, Dean, they get hot! I’ll do it. [GASLAMPS BEING LIT] (QUIETLY) Did you have to bring the whole gang, Clive? This isn’t an intervention.
BARKER: Look, if we’re gonna face tough-as-nails sex demons, I think we can agree we want Mary by our side. Or preferably in front of us. No one else was available to look after Dean at short notice. And I invited Howard...
LOVECRAFT: --because of my knowledge of the occult.
BARKER: Yeah! Exactly that! And also in case we need to, y’know. Negotiate for Edgar.
LOVECRAFT: What?
KING: Uh, guys. Was that other doorway there before?
BARKER: I’m pretty sure it wasn’t.
KING: (UNCERTAINLY) Well... you know Edgar. Loves his DIY.
SHELLEY: I don’t think Edgar built that doorway. He wouldn’t know that many runes.
KOONTZ: It looks kinda... Howard, what’s that word you’re always using?
LOVECRAFT: Gambrel?
KOONTZ: Yeah. Totally gambrel.
KING: That’s a kind of roof, Dean.
KOONTZ:/LOVECRAFT: Is it?
BARKER: It’s a doorway to the underworld. The box opens up doorways, OK? That’s what my ex-boyfriend said, anyway. He bought it from some weird guy at a rave in Berlin. He thought it had pills in it. Turned out to be something even better. That was a wild night.
SHELLEY: Well, I hope you guys packed for warm weather. [CRACKS KNUCKLES] ’Cause we’re going to hell.
LOVECRAFT: At least it’s not Baltimore.
KING: What? Have some responsibility, Mary. We can’t take Dean to hell.
SHELLEY: He’s gotta learn sometime.
KOONTZ: I don’t wanna go to hell. I don’t think they have dogs there.
BARKER: Oh, they have things way better than dogs. They have this one dog with three heads!
KOONTZ: Wow, really? Now I wanna go!
KING: No, Dean. You wait here and... [CATTERINA MEOWS] keep Catterina company. I’ll bet she’s concerned about Edgar. [CAT MEOWS INDIFFERENTLY]
KOONTZ: Can I teach her to fetch?
KING: You can try.
SHELLEY: Come on. Let’s go rescue an idiot.
SEVERAL SETS OF FOOTSTEPS FADING, AS EVERYONE LEAVES EXCEPT DEAN.
KOONTZ: Bye guys! OK Catterina, I’ll throw this trowel and you fetch--[CATTERINA MEOWS] what, you’re hungry? Ookaay, I’m not usually allowed to use can-openers but I won’t tell Steve if you don’t. [RUMMAGING IN DRAWERS AND CUPBOARDS. TURNING OF CAN OPENER HANDLE. SLICING SOUND]
KOONTZ: Owwww!! [SOUND OF BLOOD DRIPPING ON FLOOR]
FADE
SCENE 6--INT. HELL
DEMONIC MUSIC. SPOOKY FOOTSTEPS, DISTORTED WIND. OCCASIONAL DISTANT SCREAMS. NO FLAMES.
LOVECRAFT: This is hell? It looks more like one of those degenerate paintings by MC Escher.
BARKER: Oh, man. If I’d known, I’d have lived a sin-free life.
KING: If I’d known hell was an MC Escher painting, I’d’ve been a serial killer.
SHELLEY: Shut up. We gotta work out where they’re holding Edgar. Howard, you’re a demonology nerd, what are the seven circles of hell again?
LOVECRAFT: Uh, nine actually. The first is limbo... for the unbaptized and virtuous pagans.
KING: I think Edgar’s been baptized a couple times.
LOVECRAFT: Then maybe he’s in circle two. That’s for adulterers and the lustful.
BARKER: Mmm... I’m not seeing it.
LOVECRAFT: Circle three, gluttony. That’s why I only ever eat cold canned beans.
SHELLEY: Edgar ain’t a glutton. Doesn’t even take more than his fare share of smores.
LOVECRAFT: Circle four, greed? Nah. Circle five, anger. Then heresy, violence...
BARKER: He was angry and violent to Longfellow.
KING: Yeah, but I don’t think it really defines him, y’know?
SHELLEY: Nah. Little wimp won’t even arm-wrestle me.
LOVECRAFT: Then there’s circle eight, fraud.
KING: He did pull that hoax about the balloon trip to the moon. You reckon that counts as fraud?
SHELLEY: Nah. Doesn’t count if only cretins believe it.
LOVECRAFT: That was a hoax? I mean, Edgar did that hoax?
KING: So he must be in circle nine, what’s that?
LOVECRAFT: Treachery.
KING: Is he treacherous?
LOVECRAFT: Oh, you don’t have to actively betray anyone in particular. There’s a whole subcircle for, like, treachery of the soul. That’s when you reject happiness and deny human warmth.
PAUSE.
BARKER: He’s in the Miserable Bastard circle.
SHELLEY: Right, where’s the stairs, we got nine flights to get down. [DOOR OPENS] This way.
MARY’S FOOTSTEPS DEPART, THEN APPROACH AGAIN
SHELLEY: What am I doing back here?
KING: It’s an Escher painting, remember? Go down one flight of stairs, you’re lucky you didn’t end up three floors higher and standing sideways.
SHELLEY: I ain’t got time for this shit. We’re hitching a ride. (CALLING) Oi! You! Yeah, you! Thomas the Blue Demon!
THOMAS: Ey! What do you want, mortal?
SHELLEY: You’re gonna take us to the ninth circle now.
THOMAS: Is that right? And why would I do that, though?
SHELLEY: ’Cause if you don’t, I’m gonna put this [SWITCHBLADE OPENS] through your... whatever you’ve got there instead of a throat.
THOMAS: (AWESTRUCK, FRIGHTENED) Is that what I think it is?
SHELLEY: It’s a Sheffield steel Benjamin Huntsman automatic folding knife. Quite valuable. Also quite sharp.
THOMAS: All right, calm down, calm down! I’ll take you. Give us a sec, will you, I’ll just transmute into me true form.
SOUND OF DEMON TRANSFORMING
BARKER: Is that...
KING: Oh boy!
LOVECRAFT: A steam locomotive with a face? I was expecting something more, y’know, tentacley.
KING: Hop in, everyone! I’ve always wanted to drive one of these things.
THOMAS: Ey--I’ll drive. I’m the engine.
SOUND OF EVERYONE CLAMBERING INTO THE CAB OF THE LOCOMOTIVE. ENGINE STARTS UP.
KING: Here we go!
STEAM WHISTLE TOOTS
THOMAS: Aah! Would you mind not pulling that whistle? It’s right next to the bits that turn into me ears.
KING: (CHEERFULLY) Sorry! Oh, it’s too bad we couldn’t bring Dean with us. He’d have loved this.
FADE AS ENGINE HUFFS INTO THE DISTANCE
SCENE 7--INT. EDGAR’S BASEMENT
BLOOD DRIPPING
KOONTZ: Aaah! Ewww! Kitty, don’t lick up that blood! Hey look, it’s getting absorbed into the floor...
SQUELCHY BLOOD ABSORPTION NOISE. WALL SPLINTERS. BRICKS FALL. UNDEAD MONSTER SQUELCHES OUT
KOONTZ: Whoah! Who are you? I’m Dean!
LONGFELLOW: [MONSTERIZED VOICE FILTER] Don’t look at me!
KOONTZ: I already did, sorry. You look weird. Hey, I know you! You’re the guy Edgar keeps drawing cartoons of with stink lines. You’re Henry Longfellow! But... why don’t you have skin?
LONGFELLOW: I need more blood. And you’re going to get it for me.
KOONTZ: (DISTRESSED) Uh... I don’t wanna.
LONGFELLOW: You don’t have a choice! [SQUELCH AS HE GRABS DEAN’S ARM]
KOONTZ: Hey!! Let go!
LONGFELLOW: Once I’m whole again, I can leave this place. And they’ll never find me...
CATTERINA YOWLS AND LEAPS, SCRATCHING
LONGFELLOW: Ow! Kitty, get off me! NO!
KOONTZ: Aaaaaah! Stranger Danger!! Steve! Edgar! Maaaaryyyyy!
DEAN’S VOICE AND FOOTSTEPS FADE AS HE RUNS AWAY DOWN THE HELL CORRIDOR. LONGFELLOW AND CATTERINA CONTINUE TO STRUGGLE
LONGFELLOW: (GRUNTS OF FIGHTING OFF AN ENRAGED CAT, AND MOSTLY LOSING) Wait... you’re Edgar Allan Poe’s cat! (GRUNT OF EFFORT, GETTING CATTERINA AT ARM’S LENGTH) Hold still! Now listen, moggy, I’ve been bricked up in there for days. If I were to tell you where there’s a mousehole inhabited by a delicious plump specimen, would you lay off me and just... spill some of its blood on the floor? [CATTERINA MEOWS] Just a few drops, you can eat the rest. He really is a lovely, tasty-looking mouse. And he’s got an honorary doctorate. [CATTERINA MEOWS] (PLEASED) Deal!
FADE
SCENE 8--INT. MOUSEHOLE/EDGAR’S HOUSE
ANNOUNCER (Robin): It's Saturday, it's 11 a.m., it's time for the wacky cartoon antics of Catterina and Brian Jacques!
FADE IN MOUSEHOLE AMBIENCE (POE’S BASEMENT BUT A BIT MORE MUFFLED). A FEW BARS OF “THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME”. TOM-AND-JERRY STYLE MUSIC PLAYS THROUGHOUT THE SCENE.
JACQUES: Ah, what a pleasant afternoon! Relaxing on the dishwashing sponge I use for a couch, writing my latest Redwall story on the Etch-a-Sketch keyfob I use for a laptop!
BELL RINGS
JACQUES: Who could that be, ringing the thimble I use for a doorbell? [DOOR OPENS] (LOVESTRUCK GASP) Oh my, a beautiful lady mouse! [CARTOON THUMPING HEARTBEAT NOISE] I’ll be right out, miss! I’ll just grab her this huge bouquet of cress, and put on the bandaid I use for a cummerbund! [HASTILY GRABBING THINGS. DOOR SHUTS] (SEDUCTIVELY) So, mon amour... perhaps we could go for a romantic hike up the stairs to the kitchen? Or go for a quiet drive in the rollerskate I use for a car? Or... we could skip the small talk and I could show you the sardine can I use for a bed... (KISSES)
SUDDEN GROWLING-BRASS MUSIC CUE, LIKE WHEN THE CAT SHOWS UP IN CARTOONS
JACQUES: Wait a minute! You’re no lady mouse! You’re one of Catterina’s paws with a sexy face drawn on it in felt tip! Aaaaa!
CAT YOWLS. CLATTER OF THE TWO OF THEM BURSTING THROUGH THE CELLAR DOOR AND RUNNING UP THE STAIRS. SWITCH TO KITCHEN AMBIENCE (OUTSIDE TRAFFIC MORE AUDIBLE, STOVE BURNING SOMEWHERE.) CARTOON MUSIC CONTINUES. PUZZLED MEOWS
JACQUES: (LURING) Here I am, kitty! In the corner, just behind this flat-iron hanging from a pulley!
CAT SCRAMBLES AND RUNS, THEN CRASHES INTO SOMETHING. ECHOING METAL CLANG-ANG-ANG-ANG-ANG!! CAT YOWLS. SWOOSH OF ROPE BEING RELEASED. IRON LANDS ON CAT’S HEAD WITH COMEDY DOING!! SOUND. WOOZY MUSIC, BIRDS TWEET. SAD MEOWS
JACQUES: Ha ha! That was just my reflection in a polished steel cupboard door! I’m actually over here, next to this precarious stack of cast iron cooking pots!
ENRAGED CAT YOWLS. RUNNING. METAL CRASHES
JACQUES: Oooh, don’tcha hate it when your work gets PANNED!!
LOONEY TUNES-ESQUE PUNCHLINE MUSIC
SCENE 9--INT. HELL, 9th CIRCLE
FLAMES, MANIACAL LAUGHTER, SCREAMS OF THE DAMNED
POE: So this is the ninth circle of Hell. Love what you’ve done with the place.
PINHEAD: Silence, mortal! Your iconic brand of acerbic nihilism can’t help you here!
POE: What punishment have you got for me? It’s gonna ironically reflect my own sins, right? Or maybe something from my work, like a slowly descending ax-pendulum? Or a giant raven that pecks my eyes out every day?
PINHEAD: Punishment? Far from it, Mr Allan Poe! We will take you to the very heights of sensation, where pleasure and pain are but one side of the same incredibly sexy coin.
POE: Are you sure about that? ’Cause so far it’s really been exclusively pain.
STEAM LOCOMOTIVE ARRIVES
THOMAS: Excuse me, Pinhe--er, Your Majesty. Arriving at platform nine...
PINHEAD: What is it now, Thomas? I was about to get started on our new guest here.
THOMAS: I’m sorry, Your Popeship, but these... people insisted on being brought down. (CALLING) End of the line, all change! Trust me, you don’t want to still be aboard when I transform back to me demon body.
FOOTSTEPS AS THE PALS PILE OUT OF THE CAB. ROBOT TRANSFORMATION NOISES
THOMAS: Aah, that’s better.
POE: Guys! You shouldn’t have come.
KING: Of course we came, Edgar! Midnight Pals look out for each other, right? We’re not gonna stand by and let you get dragged off to the next world by some human game of Kerplunk.
PINHEAD: I beg your pardon??
POE: I appreciate that, Steve, but what I meant was, you shouldn’t have come, because now we’re all stuck here for eternity.
PINHEAD: Stuck?? Nobody comes here except by choice!
POE: Then what’s with the chains? [RATTLING CHAINS]
PINHEAD: Those chains are of your own making, Mr Allan Poe. Desires you daren’t admit, even to yourself.
POE: I’m just saying there’s a difference between occasionally thinking about getting tied to the bedpost and being suspended from the ceiling with a meathook through your--[CHAINS CLANK] Aargh!
PINHEAD: A difference only of degree. I can see into the minds of every one of you. Your most delightfully loathsome fantasies, your suppressed perversions. (BEAT) Mr Lovecraft.
LOVECRAFT: Oh, I’m not into--
PINHEAD: Tentacles?
SHLOOP OF TENTACLES SHOOTING DOWN FROM CEILING, WRAPPING AND HOISTING LOVECRAFT
LOVECRAFT: Aaah! What? No, I--(UNCONVINCINGLY) I hate this! Ewww. It’s so bad.
PINHEAD: Miss Shelley.
SHELLEY: I don’t suppress that shit, hedgehog face. I’m a polyamorous bisexual panromantic power top, currently in a triad with two guys and occasionally hooking up with my ex-murder-girlfriend. My favourite fucking spot is my mum’s grave. I’d give you more details, but I don’t want to give Howard a heart attack. What am I saying? Yes I do. Byron likes to cover--
PINHEAD: No need, I already know. Clearly, you’re a lady who wears her heart on her sleeve--
SHELLEY: Actually, that’s Percy’s.
PINHEAD: --when it comes to the physical.
RIBBONS WHOOSH DOWN
SHELLEY: Oy! What the--ribbons?!
PINHEAD: Nice pink ones.
SHELLEY: No fuckin’ way! I want chains! Big rusty metal chains! [RIBBONS PULL HER UP] Ow! Hey! (DEFIANTLY, FROM CEILING) You call this kink? This is how I fuckin’ relax, Captain Home Depot.
PINHEAD: Nevertheless, there are areas of your innermost self that you have yet to be honest about. Blues Jabba, when we’re done, you will take Miss Shelley to a private furnace and...
SHELLEY (HORRIBLE DAWNING REALIZATION) Oh no...
PINHEAD: ..talk about her feelings! (DEMONIC LAUGH)
SHELLEY: (TERRIFIED) Fucking hell!
PINHEAD: Oh yes! Get her to open right up to you, no matter how many centuries it takes. Next in line... Mr Barker. (SHORT LAUGH) I don’t know where to begin.
BARKER: Love what you’ve done with your nails. [CHAINS DESCEND, PIERCE, AND HOIST CLIVE] Aaaah! (DEFIANTLY) Just another Friday night chez Clive! [CHAINS CLANK] Ow!
PINHEAD: After a few thousand years up there, you might make a decent Cenobite yourself.
BARKER: (THROUGH THE PAIN) This all you got?? [CHAINS CLANK, GRINDING, FLESHY NOISES] Oww! (TO HIMSELF) It is not.
PINHEAD: And finally... Mr King.
KING: Oh, uh... huh...
PINHEAD: Yes, on the outside, you may be a strait-laced, well-groomed, flannel shirted, jacket-and-jeans everyman, but I can read your filthy, sexy thoughts, like... (GRAPPLING) er...
BARKER: (FROM CEILING) Oh my god, good luck with that! You know that’s Stephen King you’re talking to? Guy’s straighter than a North Dakota highway.
PINHEAD: (AUTHORITY STARTING TO FAIL) No, no. Those dark desires are in there somewhere, I know they are...
BARKER: No way. He’s the only man in history to get a negative score on the Kinsey scale. More vanilla than a Ben & Jerry’s factory.
KING: Hey, I’m not vanilla! I once... well... I don’t wanna embarrass anyone...
BARKER: Oh my god, like you even could.
KING: For your information, Clive, once--before I was with Tabitha--I met this girl... at the library...
BARKER: Oh my god
KING: And we went home and... well, let’s just say we did some stuff.
BARKER: Oh, what’d you do, leave the lights on?
KING: Clive... sweet, innocent Clive.
BARKER: Do you know, I have honestly never been called that before.
KING: She and I... you know, it was a whirlwind. I never even met her parents.
POE: Steve
PINHEAD: Keep your mind still, Mr King. I’m attempting to locate the memory you’re referring to. Most of your tantalizing mental pictures seem to be of transport museums.
KING: Well, since you’re gonna find it anyway... when we got home we started, y’know, gettin’ jiggy... on the couch!!
LOVECRAFT: Ewww.
KING: And--And! She touched my butt. That’s right! Bet you didn’t think your strait-laced vanilla pal Steve was into butt stuff, huh Clive?
SHELLEY: Oh my god
BARKER: (LAUGHING) Oh, Steve, never change. Hey, Massage Ball Face, can you free one of my hands so I can facepalm?
KING: I don’t care if you’re offended, Clive, I’m no longer bound by your normie sexual morals!! I can feel my inhibitions falling away! I’m so free! When I get back to Tabitha I’m gonna suggest an “early night” and it’s not even Thursday!! Hey Zippy, d’you think I could be a Cenobite??
BARKER: Just stop, Steve. It’s OK to be incorrigibly normal. It’s what makes you stand out.
PINHEAD: (FALTERING) You--you know, impure thoughts don’t have to be carnal. You must have some in there. Maybe you’ve had impulses to commit crimes or ethically reprehensible acts... (SLIGHTLY DESPERATE) ...you must have...
KING: Well, I was very nearly late returning those library books, I can tell you!
PINHEAD: (STUMPED) No one can be this normal. It’s not normal to be this normal!
SHELLEY: (FROM CEILING) Hey, Pinhead! You ever think of putting a cube of cheese and a slice of pineapple on each of those, and throwing a ’70s theme party?
PINHEAD: (ANGRY, WEAKENED) Shut uuuup!
BARKER: Nice! Mary, swing over here, that deserves a high five. [CHAINS SQUEAKING]
SHELLEY: I can do better than that. (SLIGHT GRUNT) [SWITCHBLADE SOUND. RIBBONS BEING CUT. MARY LANDS ON THE FLOOR] Yes!
PINHEAD: What the--but those ribbons are made of Satan!
KING: You mean satin?
PINHEAD: No I don’t! They can’t be cut with earthly blades. What did you use?
SHELLEY: Oh this? Just my trusty old switchblade. Why, you want some? [BLADE SWISHES]
PINHEAD: (HORRIFIED) WHERE DID YOU GET THAT??
THOMAS: Oh, yeah. Master, I forgot to say. One of them’s got the Huntsman mechanism with them.
PINHEAD: What??
SHELLEY: Yeah, that’s right. Benjamin Huntsman. Weird nerd I met once in a pub in Sheffield, drunk as a newt. And when I see a drunk nerd I know I’m not paying for my own drinks. He said he was a clockmaker and he’d been working on solving the longitude problem when he’d had a flash of inspiration and invented a mechanism so terrible he had to come straight to the boozer to make sure he’d forget it. I was intrigued.
PINHEAD: You met... the Inventor?
SHELLEY: Yeah. So I downed a few dozen shots with him, and persuaded him to draw the mechanism on a coaster. I said I’d throw it in the fire. Then it’d be out of his head and destroyed, see? But in a betrayal of the man’s trust and goodwill for which my conscience will always harbor a little pang of pride, the coaster that I threw in the fire was not the coaster that he drew the diagram on.
KING: Mary, you devil! Saving your presence, Pinhead.
PINHEAD: (SPUTTERING, OFF THEIR GAME) Don’t call me that!
KING: Boy, if you’re this cranky now, I’d hate to have met you before all that acupuncture.
SHELLEY: The next day I went to Benjamin Huntsman’s workshop. The drink had done its job. He didn’t remember me or the mechanism at all. But I remembered the fear, the sheer existential horror in his eyes when he’d told me about it, and I thought: I dunno what this is, but anything that can reduce a six-foot, and I gotta say, pretty fuckin’ ripped Yorkshireman to that level of terror, that’s something I want in the pocket of my dress with pockets. So I showed him the diagram and commissioned him to make it for me. He asked me what it was and I didn’t know. So I said it’s a weapon. Six to eight weeks later, I get this in the mail. [KNIFE FLICKS] And a letter from Benjamin in shaky writing, saying he’d become fascinated with the mechanism and he was gonna start working it into other designs. Clocks, adding machines... puzzle boxes. I never saw the man again but this is the best damn knife I’ve ever had. Ain’t had to sharpen it in ten years and it’s still got an edge that’ll open your fuckin’ throat. Like THIS!
BLADE SWOOSHES. FLESH CUTTING, BLOOD SPURTING. PYSCHO-ESQUE MUSIC.
PINHEAD: Aaaeerghh! (SPLUTTERS ON BLOOD) [FALLS OVER]
SHELLEY: Best damn knife I’ve ever had.
THOMAS: Hey, you can’t--
SHELLEY: YOU WANT SOME? [KNIFE SWISHES]
THOMAS: (FRIGHTENED) Aaaaaaaaa! [TRANSFORMS, CHUFFS OFF]
SHELLEY: Steve, you get Edgar down, I’ll get Clive.
KING: And Howard?
SHELLEY: (UNENTHUSIASTICALLY) Yeah, whatever.
RATTLING AND UNWINDING OF CHAINS/TENTACLES. THREE BODIES FALL TO THE FLOOR
POE: Ow!
BARKER: Ouch!
LOVECRAFT: Oof! Thank you Steve, I really wasn’t enjoying those tentacles...
SHELLEY: LEG IT!!
FOOTSTEPS AS THEY RUN AWAY
PINHEAD: (CHOKING) AFTER THEM!!
KING: Which way?
POE: Upwards!
MONSTER FOOTSTEPS IN PURSUIT
BARKER: (RUNNING) Ah, shit, it’s the blob with sunglasses and the skinny one with the teeth.
SHELLEY: This way!
POE: That way!
LOVECRAFT: This way!
MORE CONFUSED RUNNING
BARKER: Have we lost them?
KING: I think so...
KOONTZ: [DISTANT] Aaaaaaaaaaaa!
POE: Something’s coming!
LOVECRAFT: Hide!
BARKER: Hide where, smartass?
LOVECRAFT: I dunno. Behind Edgar!
POE: Then where am I gonna hide?
KING: Behind Mary?
SHELLEY: You fuckin’ brickshits.
KOONTZ: (APPROACHING, RUNNING) Aaaaah! Stranger danger! Aaaaaaah!
KING: (WHISPERING) Dean??
KOONTZ: (STARTLED) Huh? Who said that?
KING: (WHISPERING) It’s me, Stephen. Stephen King.
KOONTZ: W-where are you?
KING: Behind Edgar.
KOONTZ: (BEWILDERED) I can’t see Edgar.
POE: I’m behind Mary.
KOONTZ: Oh! Hi, Mary! Hi, everyone! Am I glad to see you guys!
KING: Dean, what happened to your hand?
KOONTZ: Oh... I cut it.
KING: Hmmm, it doesn’t look deep. Better put some Neosporin on it when we get home.
KOONTZ: Aw, but that stings so much!
POE: (STERNLY) How did you cut your hand? Were you trying to use scissors by yourself?
KOONTZ: No! It was the can opener. Catterina was hungry and--
POE: Oh, Dean, she tries it on.
LOVECRAFT: Now, Dean, this is very important. Do you think you can remember the way out?
KOONTZ: Uh--I hope it’s the other direction from those two demon things.
MONSTER FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING FROM DISTANCE
BARKER: Ah, hell. We got demons! Run away!
KING/LOVECRAFT/KOONTZ/POE: Run away! Run away!
THEY RUN AWAY. THE DEMONS PURSUE
LONGFELLOW: Leaving so soon?
FOOTSTEPS STOP
POE: Well, well. If it isn’t Henry Wadsworth Wrongfellow. I almost didn’t recognise you without your skin.
BARKER: Jesus, Edgar, what did you do to this guy?
POE: (SMUGLY) Oh, I may have cut him up and entombed him in my basement.
KING: All because he wouldn’t write for your indie zine years ago? Seems kinda disproportionate.
LONGFELLOW: Don’t worry about it, Stephen. Edgar did dismember and immure me a little bit, but things turned out all right.
BARKER: Oh shit, he’s not rising to it.
LOVECRAFT: Oh, no.
SHELLEY: Fuck.
POE: (GROWL, BUILDING TOWARDS RAGE) Rrrrggghhhhhhhh....
LONGFELLOW: I got better. Dean bled on the floor and resurrected me, that’s... how it works, for some reason. And it was rather meditative being bricked up in a wall for a week. I may write about the experience in my next poem.
POE: LONGFELLOW YOU FUCKING HACK! [THEY SCUFFLE]
LONGFELLOW: Edgar, do calm down.
POE: WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO REACH YOU??!
KING: Edgar, you need to be quieter.
SHELLEY: Guys...
BARKER: Henry, aren’t you mad about having no skin?
SHELLEY: Guys!
LONGFELLOW: It’ll be an interesting social experiment. But I suppose if I need a new skin, I can always flay one of your stories in my review column, Edgar!
POE: (ENRAGED) LONGFELLOOOOOOOOOW!!!!
SHELLEY: GUYS! The demons are here!
DEMONIC NOISES. SWITCHBLADE SOUND
PINHEAD: Don’t bother trying, Shelley, I’ll be ready for you this time. You’re in our power now, all five of you.
KOONTZ: But--
PINHEAD: (LONGINGLY) We have such sights to show you...
KOONTZ: But there’s six of us!
PINHEAD: We have no quarrel with you, Master Koontz. You are free to leave... if you can find your way out.
KOONTZ: No! We’re the Midnight Pals! We stick together!
BARKER: Oh, Dean, that’s sweet, but...
KING: Dean, you really don’t wanna get involved with this.
PINHEAD: Run along, little man. This is not your fight.
KOONTZ: Wait!
PINHEAD: (IRRITABLY) What is it?
KOONTZ: I can bargain with you, right? Devils always make bargains with people in stories!
BARKER: Yeah, how’s that usually work out?
KOONTZ: I’ll do you a trade. My friends for Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
LONGFELLOW: What?
PINHEAD: Why would I trade five souls for one?
POE: Yeah, especially his.
KING: (WHISPERING) Edgar!
KOONTZ: Because--he got away from you, right? He was dead and--and--my blood resurrected him because--uh--anyway--you can’t go around letting people escape, can you?
PAUSE. CHATTERER CHATTERS.
PINHEAD: The small one has a point.
KOONTZ: Well, that’s about thirty less than you have, nail-noggin!
KING/SHELLEY/LOVECRAFT/POE: (NERVOUS INTAKE OF BREATH)
PINHEAD: [OMINOUS PAUSE] (GENUINE LAUGH) Hahahahaahaa! I like this one! All right, Midnight Pals, you’re free to go. Thomas, give them a ride to the surface. [THOMAS TRANSFORMS]
SHELLEY: Nice one, Dean.
PINHEAD: Longfellow, your cell awaits.
POE: Hey Wrongfellow! Guess you’re the one being dragged into an eternity of unbearable torture after all. Now maybe you’ll know what it’s like to read your own poetry! Ha!
LONGFELLOW: Touché, Edgar. Touché.
KOONTZ: (QUIETLY) Oh no...
POE: Don’t you understand what’s happening, Henry? They’re gonna hoist you to the ceiling with hooks through your junk and slice your belly open... while they think of something cruel to do to you!
LONGFELLOW: (CALM, RESIGNED) Yes indeed. I’ll just have to get through it. No point complaining, is there?
POE: YOU ARE SUCH A DICK!!!
END.
CLOSING MUSIC AND CREDITS.
POSTCREDIT SCENE--INT. HELL/EDGAR’S BASEMENT
FOOTSTEPS OF THE PALS RUNNING ALONG THE HELL CORRIDOR
KOONTZ: This way!
THEY ARRIVE BACK AT EDGAR’S BASEMENT.
KING: We’re back! ...Phew, that was an adventure!
BARKER: Sure was. Maybe I’ll write a story about it. Or a movie. Then a chain of increasingly half-assed sequels, and much later, a perfectly cast but disappointing remake.
STONE GRINDING
SHELLEY: (CALLING AGGRESSIVELY) Yeah that’s right, seal up the portal you fuckin’ cowards!
LOVECRAFT: Dean, you’re still bleeding.
POE: Careful not to get it on--[DRIPPING NOISE]--the floor...
KOONTZ: Ohh... oops.
SPOOKY MUSIC CUE. WALL SPLINTERS, SOMETHING STEPS OUT
KOONTZ: It’s another monster!
KING: It’s... Rufus Wilmot Griswold?
GRISWOLD: (PUZZLED) Edgar? Why was I inside your wall? And... where’s my skin?
POE: So... funny story...
END