Like, Boo! All you thalidomide babies! It's me, Spooker Washington. And this is the last time I'll be slogging through Whoop-doo! Village for a while (rumor has it I might be back with a Thanksgiving Special, though! Keep your eyes peeled.). Here we sit, only a day away from Halloween. And as you might expect, I have been bombarded with invites to host many a horror movie marathon. I couldn't commit to any of them. For some odd reason, these have all become bourgeois affairs. Horror aficionados enjoy expensive red wine with their Italian schlock. And each set list sent my way contained explicit Grindhouse creepers that no one else has ever heard of. Its always three titles I can't quite wrap my boney skull around, shown in some spiffed up celebrity graveyard. Fun for fascists and hoity-toity splat buffs, sure. But I'm not down with that. When did the requisite horror film festive turn into a bunch of gothed up Trekie nerds? Tight black jeans and hillbilly high waters? Gelled black hair, short skirts, and ruby red lipstick? Fuck you! Is this a Reverend Horton Heat tailgate party or a Samhain tribute to gory thrillrides?

I can't tell.

There are snivel snobs in every genre of entertainment. From Music to Antiques to Snuff Films, there's always a certain certifiable group of individuals that take it all a little too seriously. And true-to-the-bone horror fans are the worst. They like to poo-poo the funcore flicks that truly entertain while championing some rotgut piece of Argento wannabe garbage you, Joe Average, would turn off in a heartbeat. Hey, good on them! I'm glad they've found something in their lives to hold onto and call their own. But they can't expect me to sit there and enjoy the pain. Its torture, some of these exquisite examples of Iron Maiden cinema! I introduce the film, then I have to sit there and shake my head. I have to murmur loving jelly kisses onto something that taste like fished out vag guts. I don't want to pretend to like these pretentious whore doggies any more than you do. That's why I didn't want to do it this year. I've had enough of these so-called classy horror marathons.

But then I was invited to host the Six-Pack Thrill-A-Thon! Now, here's something I can really get behind. I like my beer like I like my horror movies: Cheap, fast, and gut punchy! The Yates Family Mansion up in Mission Hills has asked me to cordially invite you to their 1st annual cheap beer and cheaper flicks movie marathon, which yours truly will be MCing. It is an evening of American Six-Pack tasting and cult flick watching. It's basically an all-day event held in the Yates Mansion courtyard, where the movies will be shown on a giant blow-up screen. The fun starts at 10 am on October 31st, and will go until about 2 am. And we are planning an exclusive monster mash 'em up after bash following the films. All for the price of forty-five dollars a ticket. (Cheap!) You get one six pack for each film being shown. Plus lunch, dinner, and snacks. Not a bad deal. And the Yates Family put me in charge of picking out the films. Here's the glorious line-up:

Haunted Honeymoon1) {0}! 10 am! Six-pack: Miller High Life! Why? Because its the champagne of beers, and we needed something tasty to kick off this once in a lifetime event. {1} This first mind-fuck of a mess was written and directed by the great Gene Wilder. Joining him on screen is his late wife Gilda Radner and the always welcome Dom DeLuise. Don't ask me to recount the plot, because I can't quite remember what the heck is going on here. Its one of Honeybone's favorite Halloween treats. It has werewolves, killer butlers, haunted mansions, and a dance number set to Eagle Rock. It's a breezy horror aperitif to start things off on a light foot. People will still be mingling, and this is a good flick to talk yourself through. You don't necessarily need to know what is going on at any given minute. And there will be orange juice available for those that want to make a Hermosa cocktail (beer and O.J. instead of Champagne and juice).
Killer Nerd2) {2}! 12 pm! Six-pack: Old Milwaukee! Remember Toby Radcliffe from the hit indie flick{3}? He was Harvey Peckar's real life friend, and back in the day he did a little on-air hosting for MTV. He also made this super cheap splatter flick that was shot on home video. After being rejected by a female coworker, the scary manchild Harold Kunkle sends off for a how-to tape on being cool. With a few disturbing montage scenes that see him dressing up like James Dean in his back pocket, this forty year old suffering from annunciation overcompensation disorder trips out and goes on a fast paced killing spree ala Seung-Hui Cho. The film's creepy aesthetic sets it apart from other pseudo horror comedies of the time, and it's certainly nauseating to watch. A true cult classic in every sense of the word, it should have you losing your appetite just as the lunch appetizer menu starts making its rounds. Mmm! Fried bologna sandwiches and mini corndogs. If you aren't in Halloween heaven by the time this ugly thing rolls to a close, nothing else will send you over that cloud.
Trick or Treat3) {4}! 2 pm! Six-pack: Oly! No False Metal! Olympia Beer hails from the great state of Washington, and this goofy thriller certainly upholds that gray, rainy North Western atmosphere. {5}'s Skippy Handelman took time off from chasing Mallory in 1986 to make this Metal Head epic about the dangers of backwards masking. High school outcast and sleeveless denim jacket enthusiast Eddie Weinbauer falls into a deep depression when 80s hard rocker Sammi Curr burns to death in a hotel fire. As a parting gift, K.I.S.S. bassist Chaim Witz (often referred to as the Great Gene Simmons) gives Eddie the only known copy of Curr's last record. The kid takes it home and starts playing it backwards. Before you know it, all Hell is breaking loose! A kid flies feet first down a stairwell. Some hot young nubile minx has demon sex with an apparition before getting her ears melted off by a killer Walkman. And Ozzy Osbourne shows up as a stuttering preacher outraged over the lyrics found in rock music. If you didn't hate Skippy before, you'll certainly loathe him once you sit through this highly entertaining stinker. It's not the 2009 {6}, which every young horror critic is calling a true masterpiece. Its the 80s cock rock version. And it'll knock your socks off.
The Gate4) {7}! 4 pm! Six-Pack: Schlitz! In keeping up with the No False Metal spirit of things, here is another cute gem that relies a little too heavily on the dangers of backwards masking. A bunch of scary little demons are called up through a hole in a suburban backyard after Glen and Terry recite an incantation off an old album cover. Stephen Dorff takes the lead, appearing well before he grew into his neck. At fourteen, the poor little guy looks like he's eight. And I'm sure they all called him Stephen Dwarf. The monsters are actually scary and incredibly lifelike. That ain't no CGI imp imploding out of the floorboards. {8}'s Kelly Rowan appears sporting one of the best 80s hairdon'ts ever committed to celluloid. And a dead dog is bounced around like a football. At first this appears to be another lame {9} rip-off, but once a demonic doorway opens in an upstairs bedroom, the film really comes into its own. These ugly suckers aren't out to play nice, and its bound to give you night terrors. That's what the Schlitz is there for. To take of that razor sharp edge and let you wallow in the cheese. Speaking of cheese, a platter will be passed around with all sorts of American delicacies for you to sample. Cheddar, Swiss, and String. We'll have Lil' Smokies, too! Oh, and I forgot to mention that the exciting climax revolves around a rocket launcher. How could you miss that striking bit of awesomeness? You can't!
Eight Legged Freaks5) {10}! 6 pm! Six-Pack: Pabst! A working class beer for a working class monster chiller. This is one of the funnest giant insect movies ever made. It takes off from the get-go, and delivers a high-octane blast of cheap thrills and wicked spills. Taking a nod from {11}, director Ellory Elkayem (who went on to direct {12} and {13}), dumps a barrel of toxic waste in a small town stream, which results in two hundred giant spiders attacking a small mall community headed up by David Arquette. There is one truly classic scene that sees jumping spiders attacking a group of young motocross teens booking it home for a very special episode of {14}. And the cat through the dry wall gag is right up there with the best of Joe Dante. The cast is built from a classic B movie structure, and even showcases Scarlett Johansen in an early attempt at being cute. At one point, a massive arachnid pins her against the wall and sprays her with webbing. It might be the dirtiest cum shot ever seen in a PG-13 rated comedy. The film's nihilistic viewpoint keeps on chugging through the finale, and when its decided that the remaining residence should hole up in the local Prosperity mall, you know you are watching a true modern day cult classic. It's a pisser. And yes, there will be a bathroom break.
Frailty6) {15}! 8 pm! Six-Pack: Hamm's! Why? Because it's the choice beer chug-a-lugged by Dad Meiks in this demon smashing epic. Possibly the most underrated horror film of 2002, Bill Paxton's six-pack aesthetic allowed him to see angels in his bowling trophy. Those angels convinced him to chop up some of the local neighborhood demons, posing as friendly upstanding members of the surrounding community. It becomes Dad's mission to slay the evil unleashed on this world, and he is forced to bring his two motherless sons into this newfound family business. If the plot sounds shockingly like the CW's {16}, that's because it is. Only, one of Dad Meiks' boys is a demon, and it's the younger brother that must bring this evil kid to justice. Yeah, it sort of sounds like Sam and Dean Winchester's plight in life. All right. And Frailty must be one of Eric Kripke's favorites. Bill Paxton took what he learned from Sam Raimi on the set of A Simple Plan and used it to make this, his first real film. And it's a doozy. Dinner will be served throughout the course of this feature's running time. We'll be having Macaroni and Cheese with Alligator meat. It should be delectable.
Silver Bullet7) {17}! 10 pm! Six-Pack: Coors Silver Bullet! Trust me, you'll want some light beer after devouring all of that delicious Gator Mac. Corey Haim and Gary Busey's chemistry is thick and palpable in this Stephen King werewolf classic. One word: Magic! The film quickly compensates for its cheapie Wolfman getup with strong performances from these two future drug-addles celebrities. This is two great actors at the top of their game, before all the miserable Hollywood reality claptrap befuddled and fucked them up. Based on King's novelette, the film features {18}'s Everett McGill as The Reverend Werewolf, a bloodthirsty preacher on the prowl for fresh flesh. After tearing apart one of the neighborhood boys, the townsfolk gather to hunt down the beast. But it is the wheelchair bound Marty Coslaw (Haim) and his drunk Uncle Red (Busey) that figure out the true identity of the killer and bring him to justice. With a screenplay written by King himself, the film is an undeniable classic. And the werewolf, who gets more screen time then he deserves, ups the cheesiness of the whole thing, selling it as true cult camp. Desert will be served. We will be having Ma Yates' award winning Jell-O Cake.

Mad Monster Party8) Mad Monster Party! 12 am! Six-Pack: Michelob! A true American classic beer for a true American classic Halloween film. This Rankin and Bass production is hands down their best work. A feature length monster mash 'em up, it's far more endearing than Rudolph or Nestor could ever hope to be. When Dr. Frankenstein decides to call it quits, he calls together an all-star roster of famous monsters to decide who his successor should be. Every awful creature known to man makes an appearance. We get to see the Wolfman, Frankenstein's Monster, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, and the Bride of Dracula, just to name a few. It's a wicked, rolling lawn party that could only match the soiree we will holding on the back lawn after it is over. If you only come for one flick, make it this one. You won't regret it! We'll have horror devours and mini hamburgers. That tasty goodness will be followed up by some good old fashion Halloween pole dancing and champagne!

Come one, come all to the world's first and only Six-Pack Thrill-A-Thon. 8 classic American beers! 8 classic American Horror films! It should be a real Hootenanny! If I don't see you there, I will see you in the very near future (look for Spooker Washington's Thanksgiving Turkey Massacre this November!). If you are unable to join the festivities, most of these films are available for purchase through their links. Buy up and hold your own Six-Pack Thrill-A-Thon!

Until then, Spook ya laters! (If you are unable to attend, let me know in the comment section below what your favorite cheap beer drinkin' horror flicks are. This is sure to become an annual event, and I want to know what you would show!)