Downloaded from YTS.BZ
How are you, crazy cult film--
cult fans, man?
I'm Craig Muckler.
Official YIFY movies site: YTS.BZ
I'm King of the B movies.
I welcome you to yet another Polonia Brothers Entertainment
show fest.
I want you to sit down and enjoy this crazy fun film.
Maybe have a joint, or a beer, or pretend
I'm sitting right next to you.
As you know, I'm crazy, right?
After all, this inspired movie is by--
inspired by Edgar Allen Poe and Lovecraft.
I was told I'm a reincarnation of them.
Certainly my films are.
[LAUGHS] It's like my cult, theatrical cult film
microwave massacre.
Well, this will be a thrill of a lifetime, this film.
Sit down.
Relax.
And if you don't like it, well it's not my fault.
Oh, and if you're really too afraid of this film,
you can turn it off and watch Microwave Massacre or Malibu
High.
I will not tell the producers.
NARRATOR: Eternal brew the shadows on the surround
Dreaming of centuries that have gone before
Great elms rise solemnly by slab and mound
Arched high above a hidden world of yore.
Around all the scene a light of memory plays
And dead leaves whisper of departed days
Longing for sights and sounds that are more
Lonely and sad a specter glides along aisles
Where of old his living footsteps fell.
No common glance discerns him
Though his song peals down through time
With a mysterious spell
Only the few whose sorcery secret know
The spy amidst these tombs
The shade of Poe.
Boo.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[HEAVY BREATHING]
[WIND BLOWING]
[HEAVY BREATHING]
[EVIL LAUGHING]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[HEAVY BREATHING]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[HEAVY BREATHING]
[GLASS BREAKING]
[SCREAMS]
[THUMP]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[WHISPERED CHANTING]
[LOUD FOOTSTEPS]
Lonely and sad, a specter glides along aisles
Where of old his living footsteps fell
No common glance discern him
Though his song peals down through time
With a mysterious spell.
Eternal brood, the shadow on this ground
Dreaming of centuries that have gone before
Great elms rise solemnly by slab and mound
Arched high above a hidden world of yore.
Round all the scene a light of memory plays
And dead leaves whisper of departed days
Longing for sights and sounds
That are no more.
Only the dew whose sorcery secret know
a spy amidst tombs
The shadow of Poe
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[DOOR SQUEAKS]
FRANK (OVER PHONE): So bottom line, Mark, it's a $3 million
budget.
The sequels to Spookies is box office gold.
If you want to direct, let me know.
$3 million.
I could make 300 movies for that much.
Oh, we just want to make one good movie.
Let me know what you think.
Will do, Frank.
Take care.
[KNOCK]
[GASP]
Hello.
Jesus Christ.
Scare people often?
Sorry.
Is this still a good Time
Good time?
Why did you want to meet in the middle of nowhere?
I just wanted to make sure it was safe.
Safe from whom?
See, this is what I want to talk to you about.
You're a filmmaker, and I have a story for you
to make into a movie.
Look, sweetie.
Thanks for the offer, but I don't
finance other people's movies.
Why don't you go write a book or something?
Trust me, you're going to want to hear this pitch.
Does it have anything to do with the 1986 movie Spookies?
What?
Never mind.
Look, if you can pitch me your story
before I'm done with my emails, you have my attention.
It all began just a few weeks ago.
CRAZY KENNY (ON RADIO): Good morning, Cape Cod.
It's spring break.
Do you know where your daughter is?
Crazy Kenny does.
Hey, that's me.
[CHUCKLES] It's a beautiful, sunny, 87 degree beach
weather day in Cancun, Mexico.
While up here, it's brisk and 38 degrees in the shade
and even colder in the woman.
I see you met my wife.
Tonight's forecast will be dark, but right now the sun
is out and trying its best.
But hey, slow down.
Take a breath.
Keep the window rolled up and relax.
You're in Cape Cod now, baby.
I'll take the wheel.
You just keep listening.
And Crazy Kenny will get you where you want to go.
And hey, if you drive off the road, you are still on the Cape.
So where else other than somewhere warmer,
would you rather be?
Hey, we got the tunes.
We get the motion down by the ocean.
It's Crazy Kenny.
It's time to party, let loose and forget about your day job.
What job?
Sit back and enjoy the ride while it lasts.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Oh, you've got to be kidding me, Sarah.
What the fuck?
What?
It's winter, and this is nowhere south of the Rio Grande.
Levi, we agreed to this.
Everything here is half off.
And it's half dead too, Sarah.
Everybody left for a warmer place.
I like it, I mean, it's not the Catskills
where Dutch and Petey went, but it's good enough.
Exactly, plus, we're here to rehearse, not
get drunk and stupid like Dutch and Petey.
Speak for yourself.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[STATIC]
KRISPER THE CLOWN (ON TV): You are watching Outer Cape News.
Good morning.
Morning, morning, morning.
Bless your soul.
Salutations and hello.
[LAUGHS] What a day we have, another beautiful day,
both spiritually and weather related.
For those who work in an office setting,
you will be pleased to know that mercury is
no longer in retrograde, whoo!
All electronic devices should be in order.
For those of you who rely on the temperature,
high 35, low 22, with the potential of light snow
this evening.
Wind gusts will be primarily in the air.
[LAUGHS]
With more on today's forecast, we'll check back with you
later in the day.
[STATIC]
[WAVES CRASHING]
[PHONE RINGS]
Harbor.
Hey Coast Guard, all clear.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
[STATIC]
CHRISTOPHER SETTERLUND (ON PODCAST):
Hello world, and welcome to In My Footsteps podcast.
I am Christopher Setterlund, coming to you
from the vacation destination known
as Cape Cod, Massachusetts.
This week's show is going to be an excellent show.
It's going to be about famous authors who have
visited Cape Cod in the past.
But before we get into that, I've
got a special sponsor, Msfts Gym, trainer Caelen, or her gym
Msfts in Yarmouthport, Massachusetts.
It's got classes for every body, training,
anything you could want.
Don't just fit in.
Belong at Msfts Gym.
Visit them.
You won't be sorry.
So let's get into this show.
Provincetown has had many, many visitors throughout the years,
but many don't know that two notorious New England authors
of the 19th and 20th centuries both visited there under very
strange circumstances.
We'll start in 1826 with Edgar Allen Poe.
He took a ferry from Boston to Land's End
for what he called an ongoing investigation.
He spent only a few days there, and very little
is known about what he did, what he was investigating.
Now let's move forward 100 years, HP Lovecraft, 1926.
He spent a few days in Provincetown that summer,
wandering the dunes.
He was seen on multiple occasions shopping,
taking strolls.
And much like Poe, it is said that Lovecraft was also
conducting his own research on another investigation.
Now, 100 years later, you've got to ask yourself,
what were they looking for?
[STATIC]
This sucks.
I'm so unhappy.
What is it now?
LEVI: I'm cold.
It's winter on Cape Cod.
What did you expect?
It's beautiful.
Take it all in.
It's cold.
Hey, I think I found something.
Look what I got!
Is it contagious?
What is that?
Weird.
Fitzi [INDISTINCT].
Let's celebrate inside where there's less wind chill
and frost.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
The stage is now set.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[GROWLS]
Excuse me.
Would it be too much if I could bother you
for like, an autograph?
Thank you.
I love The Raven.
[GRUNTS]
[BIRD CAWS]
[HEAVY BREATHING]
NARRATOR: From even the greatest of horrors
Irony is seldom absent.
The world is indeed comic
But the joke is on mankind.
I never ask a man what his business is,
For it never interests me.
What I ask him about are his thoughts and dreams
That is not dead.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[MUSIC PLAYING]
[NON-ENGLISH SINGING]
What the hell are we watching?
It's called A Cape Cod Piece.
A piece of what?
It's a good question.
I think it's about Cape Cod.
Could be a piece of chicken.
Or a piece of ass.
Maybe it's a piece of shit.
SARAH: Is there anything else you can complain about today?
Is clam chowder all we've got to eat?
Amazing.
Can we please get a pizza tomorrow?
[MUSIC PLAYING]
Yes, definitely a piece of chicken.
Definitely.
Could we please watch something else,
anything other than this?
Oh, I love this show.
[HOWLS]
What the hell is this?
This is Penny Dreadful Shilling Shockers.
She has a public Access TV show that shows old horror movies.
I was going to guess that.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
I'm not eating chowder this entire week.
Seriously, we are getting a pizza.
OK, Levi.
God.
Tomorrow, I will pick up a pizza.
And how the hell do we not have any cable?
We have the internet.
Be content with that.
Plus, we're here to rehearse, not watch soap operas.
I like Gru.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[BUZZING]
ANNOUNCER (ON COMPUTER): Chilling Shockers.
[WAVES CRASHING]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[GROWLS]
NARRATOR: The most merciful thing in the world, I think,
is the inability of the human mind
to correlate all its contents.
We live on a placid island of ignorance
in the midst of black seas of infinity.
And it was not meant that we should voyage far.
The sciences, each straining in its own direction,
have hitherto harmed us little.
But some day, the piecing together
of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas
of reality and of our frightful position
therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation,
or flee from the deadly light into the peace
and safety of a dark new age.
[CRICKETS CHIRPING]
[UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING]
[VOCALIZING]
Gimme, gimme, baby
[VOCALIZING]
Gimme, let me do it.
Gimme, gimme, baby
[VOCALIZING]
Gimme, let me do it.
[VOCALIZING]
Gimme gimme, baby
Gimme, let me do it.
Baby
[VOCALIZING]
Gimme, gimme, baby.
[VOCALIZING]
What the hell are we doing?
We're making the best of it, Levi.
We can't go to the beach, so we're bringing the beach inside.
Can we just cut the shit and run our lines?
Fine.
Levi killed the beach party, Fitzi.
Levi.
Life's a beach.
Meh!
[WAVES CRASHING]
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I
pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--
While I nodded, nearly napping,
suddenly there came a tapping,
As if someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
To some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door--
Only this and nothing more
Distinctly, I remember, it was in the bleak December
And each separate, dying ember wrought its ghost
upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow-- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books a crease of sorrow,
sorrow for the lost Lenore--
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the Angel's name Lenore--
Nameless here forevermore.
And the silken sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me-- filled me with fantastic terrors
never felt before.
So that now to still the beating of my heart,
I stood repeating
To some visitor and treating entrance at my chamber door--
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door--
This it is, and nothing more.
Presently my soul grew stronger,
hesitating then no longer;
Sir, said I or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore.
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door
That I scarce was sure I heard you, here I open wide the door.
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I
stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever
dared to dream before.
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, Lenore.
This, I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore.
Fitzi it's your line.
Shoot, I'm sorry.
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber, turning all my soul within me burning.
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Surely, said I, surely that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see then what there it is and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore
'Tis the wind and nothing more.
Open here I flung the shutter when
with many a flirt and flutter
In their stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obsidian made he, not
a minute stopped or stayed he.
But with mine of lord or lady perched above my chamber door,
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.
Perched and sat and nothing more.
Though thy crest be sworn and shaven.
Thou, I said, art sure no craven--
Ghastly, grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore
Tell me what thy lordly name.
Fitzi, that's my line.
Oh, dang.
Sorry.
Jesus Christ.
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's Plutonian shore
Quoth the raven, nevermore.
You got that part right.
Levi, cut it out.
Where was I?
Much I marveled--
Right, much I marvel this ungainly fowl
to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore.
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird
above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust
above his chamber door
With such name as nevermore.
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul and that one word he did outpour
Nothing further than he uttered, not a feather that he fluttered,
Till I scarcely more than muttered,
other friends have flown before.
On the morrow, he will leave me as my hopes have flown before
Then the bird said nevermore.
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
Doubtless, said I what I utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs
when burdened bore
To the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of never, nevermore.
But the raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust
and door.
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy and to fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird
of yore--
Meant in croaking nevermore.
This I sat engaged in guessing,
but no syllable expressing
To the foul whose fiery eyes now burden into my bosom's core.
This and more I sat divining with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er.
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press on nevermore.
Then methought the air grew denser Perfume
from an unseen censer,
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls
tinkled on the muffled floor.
Wretch, I cried, thy God hath lent thee by these angels
he hath sent thee,
Respite, respite, and nephenthe from thy memories of Lenore.
Quaff oh quaff this kind nephenthe
and forget the lost Lenore
Quoth the raven, nevermore.
Prophet said I, thing of evil, prophet still, if bird or devil,
Whether tempter sent or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore
Desolate yet all undaunted on this desert land enchanted
On this home by horror haunted tell me truly, I implore.
Is there, is there in Gilead?
Tell me, tell me, I implore
Quoth the raven, nevermore.
Prophet, I said thing of evil prophet
still, if bird or devil--
By that heaven that bends us above, by that God we both adore
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if within the distant Aidan
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the Angel's name Lenore.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me,
Fitzi.
Oh, shoot.
I'm sorry.
Just say your damn line.
Quoth the raven, nevermore.
I'm sorry.
Be that word or sign of parting, bird or fiend,
I shrieked up, starting.
Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonian shore.
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken
Leave my loneliness unbroken--
Quit the bust above my door.
Take thy beak from out my heart and take thy form
from off my door
Quoth the raven, nevermore.
And the raven never flitting still is sitting, still
is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.
And his eyes have all the seeming
of a demon that is dreaming--
And the lamp light o'er him streaming throws his shadows
on the floor.
And my soul from out the shadow that lies floating on the door
Shall be lifted nevermore
[THUNDER]
Shall be lifted nevermore.
[PELTING RAIN]
[STATIC]
KRISPER THE CLOWN (ON TV): You are watching the Outer Cape news
network.
Thank you for allowing us into your home and your souls.
[LAUGHS]
The friends at the Associated Press and the national news
network has reported that a small and unusual earthquake
has been tracked off the Coast of Truro, Massachusetts.
[LAUGHS]
I assure you, there is no need to panic or elevate
your stress levels.
Oh, the Richter scale, the quake came in at a whopping 1.5,
equivalent to a dump truck speeding by your home
at 70 miles per hour on a school day.
[LAUGHS]
Just breathe.
Everything will be OK.
[STATIC]
[WAVES CRASHING]
[PHONE RINGS]
Harbor.
The harbor!
Nah, nah, OK.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
Mark, not much of a horror movie, if you ask me.
Not enough blood, not enough gore, nudity, sex, you know,
everything that makes a horror movie great.
I agree, Stephen.
It's definitely lacking something.
Well, maybe the second act will be great.
And if you want to come on my show eventually,
just let me know.
I'll be glad to have you on.
You were saying?
[WAVES CRASHING]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[FIRE CRACKLES]
[WIND BLOWS]
[FIRE CRACKLES]
[PAGE TURNS]
[THUMP]
[CRASH]
[GROWLS]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
Well, we're back.
Thank you so much to MSFTS Gym and Yarmouthport, Massachusetts
for sponsoring this episode of the podcast.
Go and check them out.
So this month we're celebrating local folklore, local Cape Cod
folklore.
Among them are the stories of Goody Hallett and black
Sam Bellamy.
According to legend, Goody Hallett and Black Sam,
their spirits haunt the dunes of Wellfleet.
We've covered the local legends of the Cooke family homestead.
The Cooke family's patriarch, and two sons disappeared at sea
in the early 1800s, and their daughter Mary Cooke died in that
home.
Every Halloween tails of the place being haunted
have entertained locals for generations.
OK, and today's guest is Evelyn.
Oh, Evelyn, I don't even have a last name
for you, let alone a title.
So what should we call you?
We are all in grave danger.
Great way to start off an introduction, Evelyn.
For those who are local to Cape Cod,
you might know Evelyn as a psychic storyteller.
Some might even call you a soothsayer.
So with that, what have you got to say, soothy?
Mock me if you must.
But the stage has been set.
The three sisters have returned to the Land's End.
These are the gray ones, the witches, the gray.
So kind of like the three sisters
lighthouses, because we did a previous show on that topic
about the lighthouses being moved, stuff like that?
The sisters are witches, hags that share one eye
and one tooth.
Wow, so they should be easy to spot, right?
You must listen.
They are part of the story of what's yet to come.
You mentioned on your previous show
that the two pilgrims came to Provincetown to seek this out.
HP Lovecraft and Edgar Allen Poe before him, both men
knew of the stories and came here
to find out that the darkness truly existed.
So they came to find the darkness.
Yes.
Also known as the Black Flash.
Did you say Black Flash?
They both came to document their investigations
on the truth of the Black Flash.
Both failed, and in return became
the Black Flash, which has haunted the townspeople
for generations.
If the signs all read to be true,
the Black Flash will return to reign supreme.
Are you saying that the legend of the Black Flash on the Cape
are the spirits of Edgar Allen Poe and HP Lovecraft?
The Black Flash is a ghost, and an ghost
is nothing more than unfinished business.
The darkness has returned in the unfinished evil spirit
of Lovecraft and Poe.
Ugh, I'm going to have to call bullshit out on you, Evelyn.
Sorry.
You see, the legends of the Black Flash started
in the 1930s.
Poe visited here over 100 years prior to that.
And as for Lovecraft, the only thing he did in this town
was walk around.
EVELYN: No, he did more than just walk around.
No, I disagree.
He came here and did nothing but walk around.
Look, you're being a little hostile.
I came here on your program to warn
your audience that shit is going to hit the fan pretty soon.
The Black Flash was folklore that came over here
from England, nothing more.
Nevermore.
What?
Cape Cod will be completely underwater
by the end of this week.
OK, and how's Lovecraft going to do this,
with help from Cthulhu?
Don't say his name.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[WATER RUNNING]
[SHAKING]
EVELYN (VOICEOVER): The sisters are witches.
Hags that share one eye one tooth.
[TRIBAL MUSIC]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[LIGHTNING AND THUNDER]
[WAVES CRASHING]
Excuse me, could you direct me to Spiritus Pizza, please?
Sure, it's down commercial street on your right.
OK, thanks.
What the fuck?
[YELLS]
Are you Frankenstein?
No.
Me Frankenstein monster.
OK.
Five large pizzas, a TV, a case of beer,
and a large box of tampons, extra small, is that right?
Only one way to find out.
Soon there will be no more time to breathe.
Hey, guys.
I'm back.
The pizza shop is closed, but I picked up this cool art.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
You bought a TV?
With cable.
And where did you get pizza?
Levi ordered it with the television and beer.
Levi, we're here to rehearse, not get drunk.
Oh, God, I'm so sick of hearing about rehearsing.
We're on spring break.
Why can't we do both?
Let's celebrate the fact that we're out here on spring break.
Because Fitzi can't hold her liquor and you're a drunk.
I'm not a drunk.
I like to have a few drinks, pass out on occasion,
and wake up from having good sex with the delivery man.
[ZIPPER]
You girls enjoy your break, and thanks for the coffee.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
SARAH: Oh my God, Levi.
LEVI: What?
He's old enough to be your dad.
Mine too.
First of all, I'm on spring break.
Second, it's too cold outside to do anything else.
And third, this sucks.
Well, then maybe you should take a bus back to the city.
Or maybe you can catch a ride with your salty daddy.
Look, bitch.
Stop fighting, please!
SARAH: Great.
Look what you did.
I didn't do anything.
You started it.
What if she wanders too far and gets
lost and doesn't remember what the cottage looks like?
We're surrounded by water.
How far can she go?
Oh, my God, she can't swim.
Fitzi!
We should have gone to Cancun.
[MUSIC PLAYING]
This may be my final video log before the end.
The witches have returned to the province lands.
The spirit of Lovecraft is stronger than it has ever been.
Soon, the high priestess of the great old ones,
the sleeper of Aria, the great dreamer, the slumbering one,
the great old one, will finally emerge from his sleep
and fall upon us.
I wait here in the dunes for a sign.
[GROWLS]
Fitzi?
Fitz?
Fitzi!
Fitz!
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[BIRD CAWS]
And the raven, never flitting Still is sitting,
still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.
And his eyes have all the seeming
of a demon's that is dreaming
And the lamplight O'er him streaming
throws his shadow on the floor
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor,
Shall be lifted nevermore.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
Sarah?
Hello?
Levi?
Is anyone there?
[WIND BLOWS]
Ladies and gentlemen, "Cake Boss" by Exentric.
[EXENTRIC, "CAKE BOSS"]
Man doesn't anyone have good shit anymore?
I might know this one guy.
Who is it?
(RAPPING) They call him the Cake Boss.
I heard he delivers like Mr. Beast
Legend has it that his lines will hit you harder
than 10 tabs of acid
Leave you on your ass if you tripped before doing a back flip
He's higher than the average primate
The rap ceiling is bigger than the Amazon
A giant Calvin Harris and gorilla with the tactics
Seals Team Six status Like magic
He's bound to switch on the assets
Natural like Imagine Dragons in the sky
So it's no wonder why his head
Is in the clouds when he's rapping,
But he's still tackling the tracks like Usain
Popping pharmacy speed
Livin' faster than Barry Allen
Brings a crossbow with lyrical bolts and emotions held back.
It's probably best not to be in his vision when he snaps
But even on his game he isn't playing
He never aimed for attention and didn't do it for cash
Any questions being asked
Since he's seen his fat ex just shake her titties
And gain millions in followers in a flash
So he stays busy till the day ends
Anyway and all he's got his inspiration
Whenever the beats banging
But his mind keeps on straying off into outer space
And he wonders if it would be the same without his medications
Life's a trip so he packed for a vacation
And booked a plane cause he's only got one
And ain't trying to waste it on Facebook
Scrolling social media in the name of staying active
While life passes him by like the far side
It's like he's trapped
Trapped in the matrix
Trying to find a way to escape it
Yet the more he tries
The more it looks like he'll never make it
He's grateful for music
It's all he could relate with
But there's nothing for him in this world
that he was ever great at
And he can't take it
He's motivated but frustrated
Anxious till the point where he can't concentrate
For Christ's sake, they fed him amphetamines
And now tell them hit the brakes
But he can't
He hits light speed and blasts off into space
You can't stop him
It's jaw dropping
The way he tops it off
Like the Cake Boss with the frosting
Coughing cause he's so sick
Proceed with caution live COVID
A beast with so many bars
To not spit would be exhausting
You can't stop him
It's jaw dropping
The way he tops it off
Like the Cake Boss with the frosting
Coughing cause he's so sick
Proceed with caution like COVID
A beast with so many bars
To not spit would be exhausting
He spaces out Distance and overthinking
They almost made him a victim
But he became the villain
They couldn't stop the reaction
Like a tower bomb dropping
When he went ballistic on him
And hit him back with precision
Haters, I'm shining until they tried to steal the star dust
And still waste their time complaining
Wondering why they don't got it
Even blindfolded, he'll beat them jackasses like a pinata
While he's pulling raps out his hat like magic
Ta-dah!
Beast mode, if life's a game
Spitting gas is his cheat codes
To defeat those pricks
Sticking it to them every week
So he just keeps going
Picking them off like he's Pedico
Chewing em up and ripping em into pieces
So there's definitely no way you can stop em
It's jaw dropping the way he tops it off
Like the Cake Boss with the frosting
Coughing cause he's so sick
Proceed with caution live COVID
A beast with so many bars
To not spit would it be exhausting
You can't stop em
It's jaw dropping the way he tops it off
Like the Cake Boss with the frosting
Coughing cause he's so sick
Proceed with caution live COVID
A beast with so many bars
To not spit would it be exhausting
Well, shit hit him.
Oh, actually, he's not taking any calls at the moment.
But what the fuck.
Wow.
Sometimes the pain is unbearable.
Almost nobody dances sober unless they happen to be insane.
Oh, fuck.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[SCREAMS]
[THUNK]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
NARRATOR: I have seen the dark universe yawn
Where the black planets roll without aim
Where they roll in their horror unheeded
Without knowledge or luster or name.
Hello world and welcome to In My Footsteps podcast.
I am Christopher Setterlund, coming to you
from the vacation destination known
as Cape Cod, Massachusetts.
All right, so we got a great show this week.
I'm going to try to wash the sour taste out
of my mouth of the debacle of the last episode with Evelyn.
She was not the greatest guest.
Before we get there, the way we're
going to wash the horrible taste out of our mouth
is with some great food.
Sponsor of this week's episode, Kiki's Cape Cod kitchen.
Cape Cod cuisine with a Cape Verdean, a Portuguese type
of flair to it.
You can get this everywhere, Barnes and Noble, Amazon.
I'm going to make some great food after this episode,
and try to wash the horrible taste out
of my mouth from last week's show.
In our last episode, we talked about the films
of Victor Franco.
We talked about his films, Killer Campout, Hecatomb,
and his Opus Solitaire.
Now I want to focus on his later works
in the world of documentaries.
[STATIC]
Sorry about that.
We'll edit that out after.
So I've got some props here.
I got this from Cape Hook designs, another good friend,
another good sponsor.
Out of all the documentaries to come out on Cape Cod,
one needs to ask the question of how pivotal this film was
for investigation and solving the oldest unsolved murder
mystery on Cape Cod, nearly five decades.
The Lady of the Dunes.
Now, many will argue--
[MOANS]
I'll edit that out after.
Anyway, The book I wrote based on the investigation
and the filming of--
[SCRATCHING]
[GROWLS]
[STATIC]
Fitzi!
[MUSIC PLAYING]
[HEAVY BREATHING]
[SHOWER RUNNING]
[HEAVY BREATHING]
Hello?
Who's there?
Sarah?
Fitzi?
Salty?
[HEAVY BREATHING]
[GASP]
[MULTIPLE STABS]
Hey, guys.
I'm back!
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
Hello?
Fitzi?
Levi?
[LIGHTNING AND THUNDER]
Levi?
[GASPS]
Who are you?
I am Providence.
But you are in Provincetown now.
Providence nevermore.
The world is indeed comic.
There the traveler is aghast.
The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear.
The oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.
Choose your weapon.
ANNOUNCER: It's boxing night on Cape Cod.
Good evening, everybody, and welcome to the fight
of the century between two literary legends of the 19th
and 20th century.
This is going to be a match for the ages.
HP Lovecraft, record 0-0-0, height 5' 10",
weight 200 pounds, dead 89 years.
Title, Father of Cosmic Horror.
[BELL]
Edgar Allen Poe, record 0-0-0, Height 5' 8'', weight 140
pounds, dead 177 years.
Title, Father of the Detective Story.
As you can see, the scorecard shows both writers even
with professional matches.
Lovecraft does hold an advantage in both weight and height.
While Poe has been among the dead for almost
an entire century longer than Lovecraft.
The father of the modern day horror and science fiction
faces off with the father of the detective story.
This one is going to be for the ages.
It's fight night.
[BELLS]
[PUNCHES]
[CHEERS]
[PUNCHES]
Oh, that had to hurt.
If the past is a pebble in my shoe, that punch to the face
was the future rock to the skull.
[CHEERS]
[LIGHTNING]
[GROWLS]
[PUNCHES]
[CHEERS]
[PUNCHES]
[LIGHTNING AND THUNDER]
[WIND BLOWING]
[WAVES CRASHING]
[GROWLS]
[CHEERS]
[PUNCHES]
[GRUNTS]
[PUNCHES]
[CHEERS]
[LIGHTNING AND THUNDER]
[WIND BLOWING]
[WAVES CRASHING]
[CHEERS]
[PUNCHES]
Wow!
That last punch was so large it was cyclopean to the 10th
degree.
[CHEERS]
[WAVES CRASHING]
[THUNDER]
[GROWLS]
KRISPER THE CLOWN (ON TV): Oh, this is an Outer Cape breaking
news report.
[LAUGHS]
Good evening, and thank you for giving us
a moment of your busy time.
The national news broadcast has reported that a magnitude 5.7
earthquake has struck off the shores of the outermost cape
region, ooh, causing the guaranteed
potential of a typhoon which will be hitting the entire cape
region any minute now.
The National Guard has also reported that the temperature
has dropped to an earth-shattering negative 10
degrees below 0, which a spokesperson for the Catholic
Church has gone on the record to report that this is a sign--
ooh-- of the end of days, and that humanity is totally fucked.
[LAUGHS]
[STATIC]
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
[PHONE RINGS]
Harbor.
[LIGHTNING AND THUNDER]
[CREEPY MUSIC]
Poor soul.
Even death may die.
[CHEERS]
[BELL]
[GROWLS]
Then what?
What?
Then what happened?
Cthulhu rises from the ocean and you're standing on the beach
staring at him?
What happens next?
Oh, Cthulhu sank back into the ocean,
it stopped snowing and everything else.
And what the hell happened to Lovecraft and Poe?
No idea, actually.
I'm not sure about that.
Well, that's kind of an abrupt ending.
Well, do you like the pitch, at least?
I think it could be made into a good manuscript and even better
movie.
Well, yeah, I'll make the movie, but the ending sucks.
What do you mean, the ending sucks?
Look, there's movies with good endings
and there's movies with bad endings.
And my ending sucks?
Exactly.
The ending of a movie needs to be a shock or a surprise,
but never, ever boring.
Can you give me an example?
Sure.
How's this for a good ending?
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
NARRATOR: Lonely and sad
A Specter glides along aisles
Where of old is living footsteps fell
No common glances discern him
Though his song peals down through time
With a mysterious spell
Eternal brood the shadow on this ground
Dreaming of centuries that have gone before.
Great Elms rise solemnly by slab and mound
Arched high above a hidden world of yore
Round all the scene a light of memory plays
And dead leaves whisper of departed days
Longing for sights and sounds that are no more.
Only the dew whose sorcery secret
know the spy admits these tombs, the shadow of Poe.
[SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC]
Yo mark, it's me, the great pretender, Mike Kunda.
I gotta tell you, that's one weird movie,
but I loved it, weird and fun.
You know, like the original Willy Wonka?
And, yo, what a hell of a boxing match.
I mean, not as good as me in the ring, but hey, who is?
You want to make a real movie with a real pretender?
Come on down to Philly.
I'll take you on my Rocky tour experience chasing chickens,
punching frozen beef, and a climactic run up the steps.
And of course, don't forget a blessing from Father Carmine.
Then get you, my friend, a real Philly cheesesteak.
You know what I'm saying?
Until then, keep punching, Mark.
I'll see you at the movies.
[MUSIC PLAYING]