Creepshow

Creepshow is a 1982 film, split into five separate stories, with a wraparound segment where a horror comic by a little boy gets confiscated and disposed of. Through a "Grim Reaper" like character who is the comic's mascot, we are told the stories.

Directed by George A. Romero. Written by Stephen King.

• Heh-heh!! Greetings, kiddies, and welcome to the first issue of Creepshow, the magazine that dares to answer the question, "Who goes there?"
• Now that's what I call a twist ending, eh, kiddies? Nate did all the twisting and Sylvia ended... poor old girl just lost her head and went all to pieces... but the worst part came when old Nate blew out Cass and Richard's candles... heh-heh... poof!! But why hang around here while my next terror tale awaits?

• Heh-heh! Hello again, kiddies... my last story was so grim it even frightened me! So I decided to head for the hills... you know, the other side of the mountain whereas the grass is always greener... heh-heh... which brings to mind another tale...
• Hear that, kiddies? Rain tonight, heh-heh! I guess that old Verrill luck is in again, eh? You can decide for yourself if Jordy finally had a bit of good luck when he managed to pull that trigger! But don't think too long, kiddies... our next yell yarn awaits...

• Heh-heh! Hello again, kiddies! My last story was so grueling, I thought I'd take a vacation... a little trip to the seashore! Of course, this reminds me of yet another awful anecdote... but the tide's coming in so I'd better get started! I call this one...
• Heh-heh! Looks like Richard got himself in over his head, eh, kiddies? No? Well, it'll be over his head soon enough, heh-heh! And listen to him laugh! It's enough to drive you crazy! Of course, I've been crazy for years, so it doesn't really bother me... Ready for some more putrid prose, kiddies? Hee-hee...

• Heh-heh! Welcome, kiddies! I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit edgy! Maybe I'm still feeling the effects of our last story... or maybe it's just because I haven't been out in a long time! That's it! I've got that boxed-in feeling, heh-heh! Which reminds me of another tale in my lurid lexicon! A little fear fable called...
• Heh-heh! Well, I guess Wilma got what was coming to her, eh, kiddies? But, such manners! Not so much as a thank you... the only word to describe Wilma now is... are you ready, kiddies... incrate!! Heh-heh!

• Heh-heh! Well, kiddies, it seems you've caught me moonlighting! Let me tell you, this job is enough to drive ya bugs! The li'l suckers hide everywhere! Take it from me, kiddies, you've gotta stay alert, because...
• So that's where the bugs went! Looks like old Mr. Pratt was right after all, eh, kiddies? Those little suckers can hide anywhere, heh-heh! Well, that's our last yell-yarn for this time, and until we get together for another foul feast, I'll leave you with these famous words from the classic film "Casablechha"... as ole Boogey said to Ingrid Barrghman, "Here's looking at you, kiddies..." heh-heh-heh...

• You're all a bunch of dirty vultures just waiting to get your hands on my money!
• Where's my cake? I want my cake!
• Where's my cake, Bedelia? Where's my Father's Day cake? I want my cake, you dirty bitch! I'm going to have it!
• Bedelia! 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!!
• Bedelia! YOU BITCH!! What do you think I got you here for?! You're just like all the others! You're nothing but a bunch of vultures!
• Bedelia! I want my cake! BEDELIA!!! Where's my Father's Day cake?!

• Where's my cake, Bedelia? I want my cake!! It's Father's Day, Bedelia! I want my cake!
• Where's my cake? I want it! It's mine!
• I WANT MY CAKE!
• It's Father's Day, and I got my cake. Happy Father's Day!!

• That's a meteor! I'd be deep in mud if that ain't a meteor!
• I wonder how much they'd pay for it up to college?
• Oh, Jordy Verrill, you've done it now… you lunkhead!!
• Meteor filth!!

• Bastards! Damn bugs. I'll get them bugs! I own this damn building. There's not going to be any more damn bugs! Heads are going to roll. I promise you that! Oh, yes!

• Meteorologist 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 in 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.
• Jordy Verrill's Banker: $200 for a broken meteor?!! You must be joking, Mr. Verrill! I wouldn't even give you two cents!!
• Jordy Verrill's Doctor: I'm sorry, Mr. Verrill, but… those fingers have got to come off. This is going to be extremely painful, Mr. Verrill!
• Mrs. Danvers: Shall I glaze the ham now, ma'am?
• Jordy Verrill's Father: You ain't gonna get in that tub, are ya? It's the water that it wants! Don't ya know that? You get in that water, Jordy, and you might as well sign your death warrant!

Stan: I told you before, I didn't want you to read this junk! I never saw such rotten junk in my life! Where do you get this filth? Who sells it to you, anyway? I'm talking to you, young man! You wanna answer me when I'm talking to you! You remember who puts the damn bread on the table around here, don't you?

Billy's mother: Stan, don't be too hard on him. All the kids read them.

Stan: Well, my boy isn't all the kids! Wanna know where this is going, Billy? In the garbage! Right into the damn garbage! Now, you got any smart mouth about that?

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, offended by this, violently slaps Billy in the face]

Billy's mother: Stan, you didn't have to—

Stan: Hit him? Not only do I find out he's reading this junk, he's a damn little snoop as well!

Billy: No, it wasn't like that! You asked for me to get your cufflinks! It was on Sunday!

Billy's mother: The windows are open downstairs. I'd better go down and close them or the rain will get in.

Stan: No, I'll do it. I got some garbage I want to throw away.

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

Stan: The next time, young man, I find you with a worthless piece of filth like this again, you won't sit down for a week, buddy boy! Remember that! Tuck in!

---

Stan: You see that junk? All that horror junk? Things coming out of crates and eating people? Dead people coming back to life? People turning into weeds, for Heaven's sake?!

Billy's mother: Well, yes I did, but I...

Stan: Well, do you want him reading that stuff?!

Billy's mother: 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.

Billy: [about his father] I hope you rot in hell!

Henry Blaine: Who is coming out, Cass?

Richard Grantham: You mean Cass hasn't told you about dotty old great Aunt Bedelia? The patriarch of our clan?

Henry: Isn't she the one who was supposed to have...?

Sylvia Grantham: Supposed to have murdered her father? Yes. Bedelia is my aunt. Which means that she is Richard and Cass's great aunt. Which also means that she's older than God. But her father, Nathan Grantham, was even older and meaner than that.

Richard: He was hysterically jealous of Bedelia all his life. A 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.

Cass Blaine: September courtship! This was October or November, at the very latest. He was 75! And Aunt Bedelia is...

Sylvia: Never mind, my dears. The point is Bedelia loved her rather elderly beau, and her own father had him murdered!

Richard: Yarbro was the guy's name and he supposedly died... in a "hunting accident". That's what's on the books, anyway.

Cass: For Bedelia, it was the last straw. She bashed her father's head in with a marble ashtray.

Richard: So rumor has it.

Sylvia: Well, however it happened, it was good riddance to some extremely bad rubbish. And my lovely niece and my handsome nephew have very good reasons for being pleased by old Nathan's death. There was no trouble about the will. Share and share alike. 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 the crime".

---

Sylvia: Bedelia was always very unstable, even when she was much younger. After the death of her gentleman friend, she grew steadily worse.

Henry: Why Father's Day?

Sylvia: Because that was the day of the tragedy. And she is overwhelmed with her own guilt. She will go to her father's grave and meditate for about an hour. Then she will come inside and we'll all sit down to a nice baked ham dinner. The three of us... I'm so sorry, Henry... the four of us, who now owe her so very much.

---

[Bedelia Grantham visits her father's grave]

Bedelia Grantham: Happy Father's Day. I didn't know I had it in me. I'm your daughter, right? You bootlegger! Killer! Murderer!! Ungrateful bastard! You 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. [imitating Nathan Grantham] "I want my cake, Bedelia! You bitch!" You called me a bitch! Sylvia fixed it all! Ashtray back in place! Chair overturned!! A fall, daddy, a bad fall. Nobody could catch us. Nobody. You taught me. You taught Sylvia. You taught us all. [accidentally spills her bottle of whiskey on the ground] So peaceful here... [A dead hand suddenly bursts out of the ground. Bedelia turns around and sees that Nathan has come back as a zombie and is crawling out of his own grave.] No!! NO!!! [continues screaming as Nathan speaks]

Nathan Grantham's corpse: Where's my cake, Bedelia? [Bedelia continues screaming as Nathan advances toward her] I want my cake!! [wraps his hands around Bedelia's throat and begins strangling her] It's Father's Day, Bedelia! I want my cake! [watches as Bedelia dies]

Harry Wentworth: [as a zombie] You can't shoot us dead, Richard.

Becky Vickers: [as a zombie] Because we're already dead.

Harry: We want to see you, Richard.

Becky: We want to see you, Richard.

Harry: We want to see you, Richard.

Becky: We want to see you.

Harry: We dug a hole for you, Richard.

Becky: On the beach. Below the high tide line. Here we come!

Harry: It's showtime!

Harry and Becky: Here we come, Richard! Let's go to the beach. We just want you to come to the beach. Come with us. Come down to the beach.

---

Harry: If you don't panic... If you can hold your breath...

Becky: If you can hold your breath... If you can hold your breath...

Harry and Becky: If you can hold your breath...

---

Richard Vickers: I... CAN HOLD MY BREATH... FOR A LOOOONG TIME, HAHAHAHA!!!

[Wilma Northrup is talking to her husband Henry, unaware that she is sitting right behind a crate that contains a beast named Fluffy]

Wilma Northrup: Oh, that was great, Henry. That was just great! You think this is a Friday night fight? 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 stuff for brains! No good at departmental politics. No good at making money! No 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 buttons for earrings! And I swear to God if you ever touch me again, I'm gonna..! [The crate suddenly bursts open and the monster pops out, growling violently at Henry and Wilma. Henry looks surprised while Wilma turns around, looks at the monster and screams. The monster grabs her by the arms and starts eating her.]

Henry Northrup: Whoa, just... just tell it... to call you Billie... [reluctantly turns around and runs away]

Upson Pratt: Talk to me. Who's there?

Mr. White: Good evening there, Mr. Pratt. Got bugs again, huh, Mr. Pratt?

Upson: Don't you talk to me like that, you hear?!

White: What way, Mr. Pratt?

Upson: Like I was crazy!

White: 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 the Pirelli brothers out here by... shall we say 11:30?

Upson: You might go far, White. I noticed that, in service jobs, people like yourself often do, people of color. Yes; 11:30 would be fine.

White: Thanks, Mr. Pratt, sir. I'll call them just as soon as I finish with that shower on 23.

Upson: Do it first! Do it now!

White: Yes, sir. Right now.

Stan: [last words] No ... No...

Billy: [jabbing a voodoo doll with a pin, causing Stan pain] I'll teach you to throw away my comic books. Ready for another shot, dad?

• Creepshow quotes at the Internet Movie Database
• Creepshow at Mojo
• Creepshow at Rotten Tomatoes

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