Welcome back to Part Two of the oral history of Horror Fest. If you need a refresher on who's who, please refer to
Part One. We begin the recounting with a favorite (and hotly contested) story from the first Summer Fest:
The C.H.U.D. Incident:
Barrett: I remember that chick that nearly jumped out of her seat when she saw a C.H.U.D. Then Cranford looked over and said “were you just scared by a C.H.U.D.?” The answer was clearly a “yes”
Kai: I was not scared by C.H.U.D!
Nathan: She was definitely scared by a C.H.U.D.
And Now Barrett Presents His Patented Rules for Surviving Horror Fest:
Rule Number One of Horror Fest -
Bring your own Booze
Okay now you may be asking yourself "Well Brains won't there be booze at the Horror Fest?" Well of course there will be booze at Horror Fest, Satan may not partake but he still knows how to get down! BUT you see here is the thing, the booze at Horror Fest can't be trusted, remember who’s supplying it, your drinking Satan's booze and it's not his good stuff it's primarily fucking Wild Irish Rose & Mountain Dew game fuel (sponsored by red bull). Unless you’re Adam or, well, Cranpire (in which case I'm really fucking sorry) you really don't want to drink it. So what I'm getting at is that Horror Fests are great, as long as you remember it's BYOB, a good time will be had by all... oh yeah, and as long as you follow Rule Number Two!
Rule Number Two:
Do Not Pay Any Attention To That Hideous Pile of Crap on the Couch (That's Cranpire)!
So just to give you a bit of a warning Horrorfest's have been known to be one of the rare occasions when you can see the Cranpire outside it natural surroundings. For those uninitiated with the beast, he is best described as a Golgothan, yes that's right, he's basically a 6 foot tall pile of crap. I mean for a six foot pile a crap he doesn't smell that bad, just of the plague and communes for some reason, but I digress, he will make noise at you he may even follow you around, but what ever you do don't touch him or your cloths will never be the same (Brains tip: go to goodwill for the perfect Cranpire safe attire wear once then burn). But as long as you follow these simple rules a good time will be had by all.
Strange Adventures on the Front Porch:
Patrick: Two words, Hammer and Bullet. Now yes I was intoxicated (I usually am at the fests and elsewhere) but it was just a bullet and a hammer.
Barrett: Does it shock anyone that Cranford was intoxicated? I’m surprised he even remembers this story!
Patrick: My memory is shit and most of you know it. I really do not know how many [Horror Fests] I have been to.
The Cap’n: I remember that people didn’t want to be anywhere near him while he was hitting a bullet with a hammer. It pretty much cleared off the porch.
Riannon: I cannot recall now if Cranford was intent on provoking that bullet to explode with a hammer before or after we dealt with The Happening, but I’m leaning towards before. You see, Cranford lives in the existential torture chamber into which The Happening shoved the rest of us, so his clumsy dance with death was routine. But the rest of us would not have been made so nervous, and would not have repeatedly asked him to distance himself from us if this was post-Happening. Should you have to see this film, be forewarned: the events depicted therein only rudely re-imagine the effects of watching M. Night Shamilividanron pictures. Remove yourself from sharp objects, high ledges, firearms, and Cranfords with hammers.
Patrick: The amount of fear and nervousness that I inspired in the hearts of the other festers was just laughable. Yeah, I am a goof and not very careful but really what was I going to do. People were hiding and getting worried but I was just fooling around. Nothing would of or could have happened but the fear in faces still makes my day...
Phillippi: I’m pretty sure that Mythbusters has proven Cranford right on that one.
Nathan: But if any freak accident was going to happen, you know it would happen when he was doing it.
Terrorvision:
Tom: Some time later, I flashed back to January 1988, watching on the old WKFT-40 station from Fayetteville - which has since become Univisión - on a Saturday evening with my family the film TerrorVision. We had recently as a family obtained our first VHS VCR - a sleek Emerson front-loader - and it became a weird hobby of my mother and me to randomly record things that showed up on television. We have stacks of VHS tapes of things taped from TV, but TerrorVision was the first movie we taped. The very fact that this was -ever- on broadcast TV - and, unedited, since I've hence found the original tape - is mind-boggling given how gratuitously dirty the movie is. On the same tape were two episodes of PeeWee's Playhouse, an episode of 21 Jumpstreet, and about half of Poltergeist. (We were still learning the subtleties of SP, LP, and EP speeds) This is what passed for fun in our house, especially if there wasn't anything good on TV that particular night. And, until we had built up a reasonable library of film texts, a lot of our off-time viewing pleasure derived from this tape and others like it. (I think I had watched the orphic Canadian Christmas special "George and the Christmas Star" a solid dozen times between Christmas '87 and New Year's '88) But TerrorVision remained that anomaly. Years later I recalled it, and remembered the name Mary Woronov, though uncertain how or where. I tried tracking this gem down, but it was never released as a DVD and the VHS had long been out of print. I happily forked over eight dollars plus shipping just 
to get another glimpse at what I remembered, ostensibly, as a family movie. After seeing it at Horror Fest for the first time in probably eighteen or so years, I can only conclude that my family was nothing more than fucked in the head. I am happy that my childhood recollection of a weird-assed film no one else in the room had ever seen paid off big: this may have been one of the few times that I have ever heard the Cap'n, among other aficionados, ask non-rhetorically: "What the hell did I just watch?"
Kai Once Again Disputes "The C.H.U.D. Incident":
Kai: Ladies and gentlemen, Horror Fest attendees one and all, I am writing to address a serious case of slander and libel that has caused me many a sleepless night. I stand accused of being the only person to ever be frightened by a C.H.U.D. Yes, I do mean Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers from the 1984 cult classic. I hope to clear my name and reputation by recounting the true events of that fateful movie showing.
One dark and stormy night in early July I stood in front of an ominous building that was bathed in red light straight from hell. I thought it was only the oppressive humidity that was causing my hair to curl but now I know that it was the impending horror and evil that I would encounter.
The movie selection was C.H.U.D. and all was well for most of the showing. My fellow horror fans and I laughed at the special effects and questionable script yet I still detected danger under the seemingly benign joviality. I attempted to quell my suspicions but my survival instinct told me to prepare for the worse.
And then came that scene, oh what a scene, I can hardly bring myself to narrate the horror! As the protagonist made his way down into the deep dark sewers teeming with unknown dangers I felt as if all of humanity was in mortal peril. When all of a sudden OHGODNO! The C.H.U.D. appeared with glowing eyes, dripping fangs, male pattern baldness, and an aura of pure evil. No circle of Dante's hell or Nicholas Sparks book contained such a horrific creature worthy of contempt.
But do not dare to think that I was frightened. My valor did not falter. The so-called "start and gasp" that has been taken as evidence for my faintness of heart was truly a rush of adrenaline as I prepared to defend those crammed into the tiny room. Only I recognized the menace that was in our midst. So no, I was not frightened by the creature, this C.H.U.D, but I was preparing myself for the inevitable battle to the death that must occur in order for humans to maintain dominance over the despicable monster. While it turns out that my assistance was not required to vanquish the evil C.H.U.D. foe, you dear Horror Fest fan, must recognize that you stared into the glowing eyes of pure evil that night and that John Heard and I saved humanity so that you may drive your Prius in safety.
Nathan: Nope. She was definitely scared by a C.H.U.D.
Controversy:
The Cap’n: Generally speaking, the hardest time someone has at a Horror or Summer Fest is their first. If you’ve never been to one before, it’s hard to know what the atmosphere is going to be like. Movies take precedence, generally with running commentary from the viewers, but these events are not like normal parties where people wander in and out during movies. The following anecdote is about such an incident.
Adam: One year, a relative newcomer (who we will call Mr. X) showed up for
the Friday night festivities. He seemed like a decent guy, maybe a
little too in to Madden NFL, but personable. He had such a good time
that he decided to bring a date (Ms. Y) the next night.
Andrea: Y'know. *them*
Adam: Saturday night is typically the crown jewel of the fest, featuring the most anticipated flix and thus the largest audience. I believe we were watching Mega-Shark vs. Giant Octopus (or MSVGO to the initiated), when Mr X. and Ms. Y came in. They sat on the floor and began chatting...well, she began chatting. She was drunk and getting drunker by the minute, which would have been fine if she could have even constrained her conversation to the movie. MSVGO is not a movie that demands constant attention and some light heckling is warranted. Her first real mistake came when she decided to confront Pat on his encyclopedic knowledge of pornography. Anyone who knows Pat, is well aware that he could write a column for the Adult Video News (I assume
there is a periodical).
Patrick: I do know my porn.
Adam: The confrontation centered on her insistence that a certain actor in the movie resembled some porn actor, who she incorrectly named. When pat corrected her, she fought a little too hard for her mistake and it fell to Barrett and his Blackberry Storm to confirm Pat's information. She, at this point, became very impressed
with Pat. This was not reciprocated.
Barrett: Oh, you mean [NAME DELETED]? I actually knew her independently of this situation, and when she’s drunk, things can get bad pretty quickly.
Adam: Her second mistake came in instigating too many intra-movie smoke breaks. Anyone who has been to horrorfest or summerfest is well aware that the smokebreak is the Cap’n's natural enemy.
The Cap’n: Were it not for smoke breaks, I assure you we could watch every movie in the lineup without problem. Instead, the breaks get longer and longer the more of them go out there, so I tend to put on Dr. Re-Animator’s “Move Your Dead Bones.”
Andrea: Yay! The "Move Your Dead Bones" video ad infinitum, and the dancing!
Phillippi: Oh god, not that stupid video.
Neil: I'd love to tell you all about the Beyond Re-animator techno remix in all it's... well, I don't know the word. Unfortunately, if I described it, you would not believe me. It is quite possibly the worst thing I have ever seen, in too many different ways to count. I may just have to claw out my eardrums and eyeballs, but that still won't dislodge it from the deep recesses of my brain.
Nathan: [the Cap’n] found it on the Beyond Re-Animator dvd. It’s some vaguely Spanish Mark McGrath looking guy singing a techno song about being re-animated.
Barrett: [the Cap’n] says he puts it on when people go out for smoke breaks. I say it causes the smoke breaks.
Phillippi: It’s more of a “chicken or the egg” thing, if you ask me. The video sucks, and he does play it between every single movie.
Adam: So the more she convinced people to go out on the roof and smoke, the more annoyed many of us got. Not to mention the fact that the more time people spent with her, the more they grew to dislike her, but at this point it remained largely tacit. Finally during one of the breaks, Pat sneaks back inside to talk to those of us not smoking or milling around outside and says "OK. Which one of us is going to tell her to shut up? Let's draw straws." Which we did. As I recall, Neil drew the short straw but
really didn't want to be the one to do it.
The Cap’n: I don’t remember this at all.
Adam: Eventually we settled on feeding her a little concoction we like to call Hobo Bug Juice (HBJ) which is a mixture of Wild Irish Rose and Mountain Dew Game Fuel. She didn't get very far into it before, as far as I could tell, she realized that she was in a hostile environment. She got very quiet and then wanted to leave. Mission Accomplished. Neither Mr. X or Ms. Y showed up at any further fests as far as I am aware.
Cars, Tools, and Ratcheting the Tension:
Phillippi: This happened a year or two ago, a friend, we'll call him Cranpire so as not to protect his identity at all, hauled himself to Greensboro in his car (which is the same steady sort of process of decay as the Parthenon) for horrorfest and of course it broke down on him. He was pretty sure it was the spark plugs, so he called some other friends who knew about cars to come help him replace them. They brought tools, and the only thing they requested of him was that he go down to the auto parts store and get the plugs and the proper size ratchet to change the plugs with. Cranpire did this, and in the early afternoon we all gathered around his car to quickly and easily (or so we thought) fix it. The tools came out, and not having a ratchet there (hence the request Cranpire buy one) They guys looking at the engine asked for the tools. Cranpire handed over the plugs, along with a two inch long shiny cylindrical slug, the socket. I looked over and asked... "Where's the ratchet?"
"That's it," he replied
"No that's a socket, that doesn't work very well without the ratchet wrench to apply torque to the plugs," I tried to explain.
"Well I asked for something to change my spark plugs with and that's what the guy at the parts store gave me," Cranpire replied as if this wasn't his fault. I shook my head.
"So you don't have the ratchet." I said.
"Well.... I THOUGHT I did." We all stood around alternating shaking our heads in disgust, laughing, or cursing under our breaths. The more mechanically inclined members of the group took what wrenches they did have, needle nose vise grips, a pipe wrench and a couple of small general purpose adjustable wrenches and set about trying to get down in and loosen even one of the spark plugs. I could tell it wasn't going to work.
After about ten or fifteen minutes of trying to fit wrenches clearly not made for the purpose of removing spark plugs down into spaces clearly not large enough for the same aforementioned wrenches, they start to look at other ways to get to the plugs. As I stood there watching my friends discuss the possibility of removing the entire fuel injection system from the top of the engine block to get a better shot at getting to the spark plugs, I look over at Cranpire, who is busy flipping an eight inch long metal object about the size and shape of a wooden cooking spoon over and over in his hand... My jaw dropped.
"What is that?" I demanded.
"What?" Cranpire responded obliviously.
"In your hand... what is that?"
"Oh its just the thing that came with the spark plug thingie." He explained wondering why everyone was suddenly staring at him.
"That," I said as calmly as I could at the moment, "IS. A. RATCHET!" I slapped my forehead with my palm.
"Really, well how was I supposed to know?" He asked indignantly.
"You could have guessed from the fact it came ATTACHED TO THE SOCKET!!!"
"Oh, yeah.... does this mean you guys can fix my spark plugs then?" And yes indeed we could, after at least ten minutes of berating him for wasting our time, and one or two attempts to explain to him how badly we could have fucked up his car removing the fuel injection system ( a lost cause), we did in fact get his spark plugs replaced.
AND WE HAVE NEVER LET HIM LIVE IT DOWN.
Parting Thoughts:
Patrick: You mean besides getting to hate on Barrett (which is a great joy)?
Adam: Well, there was Pat trying to piss on people from the roof, Pat considering trying to piss in the toilet through the bathroom window when he didn't want to leave the roof…
Patrick: Hey!
Adam: I shirked a wedding I was supposed to be heavily involved in for Summerfest, me working through my grief over a Halloween funeral by driving clear across the state round trip to make it back for Shark Attack 3: Megalodon and the Shecklestein brothers.
The Cap’n: Oh yeah! Shecky and Yankel Shecklestein!
Tom: There are ever more things that I will remember, but these seem to be the most prominent, and I am sad that the tradition is coming to a graceful and classy close, but look forward to what may in fact be other offshoot traditions. I could write some plenty about the idea of creating a community and fostering a central idea or axis about which people rotate and gravitate and return to, but I'm hoping this message is in the very least implicit for the lot of you reading this. Don't make me break out the sociological guns.
Andrea: My absolute favorite Horror Fest / Summerfest memory is the feeling of sheer delight that I get from being so freely silly with (and enjoying shared experiences of the absurd with) such wonderfully wonderful people. People I feel I can relax around, people who are hilarious (isn't laughing the best?), people I love. People who are very, very dear to me. Us all gettin' together to watch something ridiculous & crack wise about it is just SO MUCH FUN. It makes me giddy. I'm a kid at Christmas when I'm going to Horrorfest.
Tom: And as long as I can find some way to make a DEEZ NUTZ joke, hopefully at Adam or Neil's expense, the merrier I shall be.
Neil: I just heard a strange noise coming from downstairs, so I'm going to go investigate. I'll be right back…
Additionally, before the official lineup kicks in on June 1st, I'll put up special bonus Summerfest reviews of [REC] and [REC 2] some time Thursday afternoon, along with brief thoughts on John Landis' Masters of Horror episode, Family.
