Part Two of The Shudderites Attack
(Read Part One)
Chef Machiavelli came running up the stairs yelling in Italian.
"What's he yelling about now?" I asked. "Something about a big hole he found in the pantry wall," replied Zombos. "Lord, not another one!" Both Zombos and I hurried downstairs.
"What's that watermelon doing on the windowsill?" asked Zombos, as we bounded down the stairs.
"It's resting on top of my copy of Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes," I said.
Zombos stopped short and looked at me. "What is your copy of Something Wicked This Way Comes doing on the windowsill?" he asked.
"It's resting under the watermelon," I answered.
"Oh, I see." He continued bounding down the stairs. Simple answers always worked best for Zombos.
Just as we hit the bottom step, the front doorbell rang. "Oh, bother! Now what?"
I opened the door. Steve Brown, the UPS delivery person was standing before me, smiling from ear to ear. He thrust that annoying electronic signing gadget they all carry into my face. I took it and hurriedly signed for the package.
"I suppose Pretorious let you in again," I said, handing the gadget back to him.
"Your gardener--
"Grounds keeper."
"He wasn't around. Besides, your front gate is wide open. There's an exterminator's van blocking the road though. I think I crushed some bushes when I drove across the lawn." Steve Brown took the gadget and handed over the package. It was from Fox Home Entertainment. Finally, my copies of Night Watch and the unrated The Hills Have Eyes had arrived! I was so looking forward to reviewing them.
I looked past him and saw the exterminator's van. Odd. Now where had the exterminator gotten off too? Zombos called from the kitchen.
"You have bug problems?" asked Steve Brown. "Maybe I can help."
"Thank you, but I hardly think that--" Chef Machiavelli tugged at my arm, yelling something in Italian. "I really must go. Thank you." I closed the front door and hurried to the kitchen. Zombos was standing at the door to the pantry. "Have a look, will you," he said.
"I'd rather not." I said. "The hole in your closet was enough for me. I think this job is more suited to a professional."
"Looks like you got a class 5 interdimensional rift going on here," said Steve Brown. He had followed me into the kitchen. He was pointing his gadget at the pantry door. "Yes, definitely. I'd say a breach at the 8th dimension."
Zombos and I stared at him. Chef Machiavelli stared at us. Steve Brown looked up. "Well, when we say we ship anywhere, we do mean anywhere. It helps when you have one of these interdimensional delivery acquisition information gadgets. I wonder if Dr. Lizardo is back from Europe?"
"Come again?" said Zombos.
"It was Dr. Lizardo who first discovered the 8th dimension," Steve Brown repeated. "He's an expert in these matters."
"Didn't I see him on TV?" I asked.
"You're thinking of Mr. Wizard."
"I liked Mr. Wizard," said Zombos.
"Lizardo is a world-renowned scientist," said Steve Brown.
"So is Mr. Wizard," said Zombos.
Glenor Glenda interrupted our important discussion. "You said to remind you that you needed to get out a movie review today," she told me.
Just then, I saw a pair of eyes peering at us from the edge of the hole in the pantry. Two lidless large eyes, just resting by themselves on the edge of the hole. I was dumbfounded. I directed Steve Brown's and Zombos' attention to them with a pointing finger. As we stared at them, they unblinkingly stared back, then slowly separated, traveled the circumference of the large bite hole in opposite directions, then reunited on the opposite side of the hole.
"Yes," said Steve Brown, "definitely Shudderites. That's one of their pets. It's called a Helob. Spiderlike-dog thingy. Kind of playful, really. Hate to be petted, though. Bet he's been the one chewing on your house."
"Shudderites?" I asked.
Steve Brown explained. "They live in the 8th dimension. Nasty bunch of natives. Very opinionated. Must be bash-time."
"What's bash-time?" I asked.
"All the clans get together once a year in a potlatch ceremony in honor of old-time horror movies, and to worship their god, the Ackermonster. They despise the new horror stuff. Due to an old gypsy's curse, the poor bastards and their descendants are forever stuck in the past. They're doomed to perpetually relive it, and revel in Universal Studios Classic Monsters, and B-Movies from the '50s and '60s. They wouldn't be half-bad if they didn't roast non-believers alive during the bash. They usually only pop into this dimension in search of non-believers, for their sacrifices. They can smell them a dimension or two away.
"Well, I for one love the old-time classics. Give me a Bela or Boris over Englund or Combs any day." said Zombos in a loud voice.
"Say," said Steve Brown, looking at me, "you do all those reviews for new horror movies, right? Boy, some of the clunkers you reviewed lately would definitely cause them to..."
"Well!" I said, "you gentlemen certainly have your work cut out for you." I hurried off to complete my review of the Night Watch DVD from Fox Home Entertainment.
I'm thrilled to say Night Watch is not a clunker.
It happens to be a whirlwind of effects, characters, and story that definitely puts Russian horror on the genre map. While the filmed story is different from the book in some important respects, creating a bit of a muddle for viewers who have not read it (myself included), the film is still an entertainingly novel, fast-paced, and strong first entry in the Night Watch trilogy.
Trilogies seem to be all the rage these days; what with Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean, X-Men, and Spiderman, you'd think there must be some mystical box-office mojo with the number three. Call it franchise magic.
