159 A Pale Moon Rises

020 Millions of Pumpkins Dead

My name is Igor. The Master and Mistress are up in the tower enjoying their . . . diversions. But don’t be so quick to take leave, dear listener. I’m here. Come, come downstairs with me to my . . . let’s call it a “workshop”. Yes, this is where I do all my little projects. And this week, it will be I, the faithful assistant Igor, who will guide you through the depths of Demon Lord Dante Tower. What’s that? Thought you heard an echo, did you? These stony wall do play tricks on your ears. On your ears and sometimes . . . other things. Oh now, don’t be concerned. You’re a guest. We know how to treat guests down here. Guests get a lot of individual attention.

Oh my, there certainly was a great deal of blade-work that went into this Spooktacular Mansion event the Masters visited. A shame it was all wasted on pumpkins.

Ah, the Pit and the Pendulum from 1961. So many dank, web-filled corridors. A deep, stone-lined dungeon filled with apparatus of the most amusing sort. Makes a boy feel homesick, really. It takes me back to the days when you could slip through secret passages to peer out at the Mistress playing harpsichord by candlelight . . . or trysting with the village doctor whilst the Master was out buying more torches and Iron Maiden polish. Good times.

Some people don’t have time to see a whole film to watch Vincent Price go slowly mad. Some people would rather just jump to the gruesome finale. Some people deserve to be sliced up like deli meat.

I admit that I’ve always had a soft spot for Barbara Steele. I have a hard spot for her as well. Long have I gazed at her wide, expressive eyes, her ever-parted and inviting lips, her silken locks of dark, ebon hair and thought, “I’d like to have a piece of that”. Several pieces, in fact. Several preserved, well labeled pieces kept in clean glass jars all lined up in a row. Heaven.

No, this isn’t a scene from Master’s nightmare last night about an inescapable bible study in an arachnid-infested coffee shop that made him wake thrashing and sweating, reaching reflexively for a blowtorch that wasn’t there. This is just a few of the thousands of little friends that currently make their homes on the Main Street Bridge in Columbus, Ohio. Some thought the city decorated the bridge for Halloween. The flies and ladybugs knew better though . . . but only after it was too late!

Oh, but I did enjoy this week’s vintage film. I found it very educational, and entertaining. Who knew there were so many dangers that prowled the roadways of our countryside? And what’s more, so many horrors await the unwary in their very homes. I laughed and laughed. Why don’t you amuse yourself with visions of death and dismemberment? Why Not Live? (1934)

It’s so nice to have you down here with me at the bottom of the post. By the way, you never told anyone else you were coming down here, did you? I didn’t think so. I’m so glad, because I’d so hate to be interrupted. Now I have you all to myself. And now that I have you . . .