What Makes You Crap Your Shorts?

I'm going to gloss over Dave's last post. Sure, it seems like maybe we're coming at this movie from different perspectives, but I'm sure we'll find common ground.

So long as he comes around to my way of seeing things.

I kid, of course, but I wanted to go through an exercise that I think will help Dave and I think it through, and will also be a lot of fun.

Mind you, it'll also most likely expose the fact that we have all of one person reading, but hey... we're nothing if not transparent. B-movie writers don't garner a huge fan base. Well... not unless you're Roger Corman or Russ Meyers.

So here's the question:


What horror movie murders scared the unholy jumpin' bejesus out of you?

Big point of order to note - this doesn't ask what MOVIES were good. Just classic horror-movie killings.

For example, when I was 13, I first saw FRIDAY THE 13TH (oooh... creepy that I was... THIRTEEN when I saw it - cue thunder and a flash of lightning). There's a scene in that flick when a then-unknown Kevin Bacon lounges on a sleepaway camp bunk bed, having just engaged in the most egregious of horror movie sins - premartial teen sex.

Suddenly - without any warning, an arrow slams through the mattress and pierces his throat, killing him dead.

THAT, my friends, scared me silly.

Those of you that are horror movie fans know that the first Friday the 13th was hands-down the best. The killer wasn't a cartoonish oaf in a hockey mask that can't be killed. Nope... it was as human as they get - a grieving mom, avenging the death of her son, who drowned at Camp Crystal Lake due to the negligence of the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll addled counselors.

THAT to me is scary. Nothing supernatural or mystical. Just a pissed off mom, skewering a Speedo-wearing Kevin Bacon because he banged the basket-weaving instructor.

I checked my closets, under my bed, even in dresser drawers for months after seeing that flick, hellbent on ensuring there were no arrow-wielding DeathMoms hiding out.

Not that I was having premarital teensex.

But I digress. That's a classic horror movie death that scared me witless. What did it for you?

Post. Go on. I dare you.

Charlie

P.S. Thanks to The Red Right Hand (I can't write that without hearing that classic "bong" bell sound from the Nick Cave tune) and Sanctum of the ScriptWeaver for blogrolling us. As blogging newbies, its great to be in such distinguished company.

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