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(playful music)

(mysterious music)

- Okay, read that back to me, Addy.

- 478 geologists,

27 actors,

18 pop stars,

14 evangelists,

five star athletes,

and one chief justice.

Your numbers continue to rise with

each passing year, Mistress!

And, if I may be so bold,

the deal you made with the geologists was masterful.

So many souls gained in exchange for an

assortment of petty sinners who wasted

their lives on video games,

comic books and excessive masturbation.

- Well, I never specified the type of virgin

with which they would spend eternity.

- Brilliant!

- I know.

Anything on Keith Richards?

- Nein, Mistress.

- That contract is going to haunt me

for the rest of my days.

Okay, okay, that's enough.

I need something to bring me down.

Too much happiness tends to give me heartburn.

Ah, ah, ah...

(eerie music)

That's better, isn't it, pet?

Manners are so important,

don't you agree?

- Yeah, Mistress.

- That's enough.

Why don't you go torture some skinheads now?

- Yeah, Mistress.

- It's so hard to find good help these days.

So sorry to keep you waiting, my pets.

A Wish Fulfillment Facilitator's job

is never really done,

especially here.

I spend my days brokering contracts

with the greedy and morally conflicted.

It's earned me the title of

Top Soul Broker of the Abyss.

I can't complain, though,

it comes with its privileges but,

it can get a little tedious.

You mortals don't have nearly the

moral conflict your ancestors did.

Sometimes it's just too easy.

And after a long day in the soul mines,

I need a way to unwind,

and the hobby that fills my blackened heart

the most with absolute loathing and revoltion

lies within this box.

Maybe you don't recognize this chest,

it once played an important part

in humanity's fall from grace.

It was given to a young woman named Pandora,

who was told not to open it.

Of course, she did.

My mentor, the insufferable Lilith,

is the mastermind behind that deal.

Give a mortal a box and tell her not to open it?

Cut and dried.

Truth be told,

she stole that idea from the big guy himself.

I mean, come on, the whole apple thing?

Genius.

That's not to say the box wasn't a good idea,

though not as original as she would like us to believe,

no matter how well it worked.

Anyway, that knit-wit Pandora opened the box

and through that action the most delicious

sins were released into your world.

We've been having so much fun with you people ever since.

Here's the thing about sin though,

it abhors a vacuum.

Everybody assumes that once all that sin was released,

it was a done deal.

Nope.

What they forget is this isn't just

any old box,

it once held all the sins of the world

within its sturdy wooden frame.

That's a lot of power.

It doesn't just dissipate after it's served its purpose.

You see, Pandora's box likes being the keeper of sin.

You could say it was its only real purpose,

and having released the sin into the world

to propagate and grow,

it draws them back like bees to a hive.

And just like those good little bees,

violations, transgressions and misdeeds

must always come home to roost.

This beautiful box holds the

greatest collection ever assembled,

the ultimate manifestation of my favorite diversion,

the sins of man.

I never really know what the box is going

to present to me each time I peer inside.

It's the ultimate cosmic crapshoot.

But it always fills me with the most

exquisite hopelessness and misery,

the perfect letdown after a long,

gruelingly satisfying day.

Shall we take a peek?

Oh, yes.

This is an exquisite choice.

There is a special category of mankind

I find very distasteful,

thus wonderfully titillating.

The predator, the stalker,

the sinner with no regard for human life.

Those of this ilk are not cut of the same cloth.

But why mince words?

Let's take a stab at one particularly

penetrating tale I call

The Last Night on Mars.

(crickets chirp)

- [Man] It's Up All Night on Friday Night with me,

The Wolf Man, on WCCC, channel 43, Las Brisas.

(howling)

Tonight, we have a horrifying collection

of classic sci-fi B movies.

For our first classic,

that needs no introduction,

without further ado I give you

the monster movie of all monster movies.

(child laughing)

- [Man] Is someone there?

- [Man Whispering] Over here.

Over here.

Over here.

- Come on, Jason.

Pull it together.

Now I'm talking in the third person.

- Jason!

- That killed my appetite.

That got in my mind.

It's all in your head.

What's wrong with me?

I'm losing my mind.

(loud noise)

There's nothing here.

It's just my imagination.

(voices whispering)

Get out of my head!

That was easy.

(crying)

Oh, it's just you.

I thought you were a monster.

(crickets chirp)

(doorbell rings)

- Uh, what?

Go the fuck away, weirdo.

And stop ringing my doorbell.

- My car broke down,

cell phone's dead.

I just need to make a call.

- (Woman) I'm so sorry, fuck you.

(girls screaming)

(screaming)

- [Girl] No, no, no!

(screaming)

- Please, no!

- [Jason] Shh...

I know.

(whistling Hush, Little Baby)

(mysterious music)

- [Jason] Save you for later.

- No!

(crying)

- Let's get this over with.

I gotta move quickly.

(screaming)

- [Operator] 911 operator, what's your emergency?

- [Girl] Please, please send somebody quick.

Oh my God, my sister and her friends

are all dead,

please.

- [Operator] What's your address, ma'am?

- [Girl] 1878 Mars Avenue, hurry,

I, I don't know if anyone's still here,

I'm so scared.

- [Operator] We're on our way.

- Sorry, we did all we could.

She just lost too much blood.

- Thank you.

Damnit.

She could've been the one person to ID

this son of a bitch.

- That was definitely a missed opportunity.

- Ma'am, I'm sorry for your loss,

but I'm gonna have to ask you

a couple more questions, okay?

- Okay.

- Now, you said you arrived home at 3:20am, correct?

- That's right.

- And you found them in the back room at 3:25.

- Yeah, that's right.

I can't believe that this happened to my sister.

I'm gonna have to call my parents

to let them know that she's...

- We've already contacted them,

they're gonna be here tomorrow.

- Okay.

I just hope you catch this son of a bitch.

- We will, don't worry.

Now, we have a squad car waiting outside

and they're gonna take you to your aunt's.

And these two officers will be with you 24/7

just to make sure you're safe, okay?

- Okay.

- Alright, would you gentlemen get her

something to drink, please?

Damnit.

We've gotta catch this guy.

- This is the third case we've had like this.

- Yeah.

He's methodical but he's gonna

screw up sooner or later.

Just make sure that you cover this place

for any kind of evidence whatsoever.

- You got it.

- Alright.

Damnit.

(soft music)

(screaming and crying)

- [Girl] No!

(banging and crying)

- I'll be right back, don't hurt yourself.

That's my job.

Damnit.

Every time.

I'm right out front and this happens.

(whistling Hush, Little Baby)

What the hell?!

Hello?

Is someone there?

(loud noise)

I killed you.

You're dead.

Now you're going to kill me?

- [Muffled Voice] Yes, Jason, you're going to die.

(Jason laughing)

They'll be more.

(screaming)

- It's so good to be me.

Did you enjoy that little presentation, my pets?

I did too.

There's something about a strong man

that throws himself into his work

that really turns me on.

Of course...

(grunting)

The high body count helps, too.

Men like that are artists.

There's a special place in hell for such as he.

And you better believe I'm gonna

get my piece of that action.

But not all killers are so easy to pin down.

They come in all shapes and sizes.

The best surprises are those that are unexpected.

(mysterious music)

Take, for instance,

the ordered and perfectly manicured lives

of suburban housewives.

One might find that sort of thing boring

and dreadfully mundane.

But look beneath the surface

and all manner of horrors can be found.

Like this flawless entry I like to call Perfect.

(light music)

- That was delicious as usual, honey!

- Thank you dear, I'm glad you liked it.

- I think I'm gonna tackle that closet

in the hallway today.

- Oh dear, are you sure?

I think id' much rather take on

the garage than that gloomy old closet.

It's so dark back there.

- There's this new invention,

you may have heard of it,

it's called electricity.

And old Mr. Edison started patenting

his new invention the light bulb.

They're gonna revolutionize housework,

mark my words!

- Just what every modern housewife needs,

revolutionary housework.

- The marvels of the modern age!

It is the 21st century, after all.

But, seriously, dear, I've been putting

that closet off for months.

And really it shouldn't take more

than a couple of hours.

Won't it be wonderful to have the

task over and done with?

Never put off 'til tomorrow what

is better done today.

I think Benjamin Franklin said that.

Or Jack the Ripper, I'm not sure.

- You are right, of course.

Just let me tidy up in here and I'll join you.

- That a girl.

- Slave driver.

- You are so adorable, Mrs. Borden.

- Will you still think I'm so adorable

when I'm 105?

- Well, considering I'll be 108,

I'll still think you're the hottest gal on the block.

- Perfect answer.

Now, if you're gonna take on the closet monster

from hell you'd better get to it.

- I'm going, I'm going.

Now who's the slave driver?

- That's Mistress Slave Driver to you, mister!

(laughing)

(water running)

(loud noise)

- George, are you okay?!

- [George] Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry dear.

That was a little heavier than I expected it to be.

- You didn't break anything, did you?

- [George] Just my pride.

- Oh, good.

I was afraid it was something important.

- [George] Ouch.

(clock ticking)

- Perfect.

(humming)

(loud noise)

- George Borden!

If you break something valuable

there's going to be hell to pay.

(clock ticking)

George?

Don't make me come in there.

George?

Honey?

Are you alright?

Modern marvels, huh?

George?

George, answer me.

Are you okay?

(mysterious music)

(whistling)

Was that really necessary?

- Was what necessary?

- Why did you have to kill him?

- Him?

- Yes, him!

He was the perfect cover!

Do you have any idea how hard it is

to find a man like him?

A decent man?

The kind of guy that everybody likes?

He wouldn't hurt a fly.

He cried at chick flicks, for Christ sakes.

Do you know how long it took me to find him?

Do you?

- Uh, lady,

I don't know what you're talking about

but I wouldn't worry about him if I was you.

You're next.

You're both just meat to me.

- Wait, did you just say meat?

- [Butcher] That's all you are.

Meat.

- Oh, God.

You're him, aren't you?

- What?

- [Mrs. Borden] You're the Smalltown butcher.

- How did you...?

No I'm not.

- Yes you are, don't deny it.

That mask?

It should've been a dead giveaway,

but you caught me by surprise.

The meat thing though,

that's your calling card.

You carve chunks away from your victim,

dress it with vegetables,

and cook it for the person

who discovers your handy work.

I know all about you.

- Okay.

Let's say I am him, theoretically.

How do you know so much about me?

Him!

I mean, him.

- Followed your work, of course.

I follow everybody's work.

Call it a professional interest.

- You're a fan?

- I wouldn't say that.

You're a little too sloppy for my tastes.

As a matter of fact,

I'm surprised you've gotten away

with it for as long as you have.

Must have some pretty dense cops in Smalltown.

So what are you doing way

out here in the suburbs, anyway?

This isn't your turf.

- Maybe I needed a change of scenery.

- Well, that simply won't do.

There are rules of conduct, you know.

Even for us.

- What rules?

I don't follow no stinkin' rules.

- And look where it got you.

We all have our own turf

and we do not cross lines,

even an amateur like you should know

how this works.

- To hell with you,

and you rules, cow!

- Language.

Please.

- You're meat,

and I'm gonna tenderize you good.

- You're going to what?

Did you just say you're going to tenderize me?

- Yeah.

With this.

See?

- Yeah, I see.

Well, it's original.

I gotta give you that.

As is making your attack in the middle

of the morning instead of under

the cover of darkness.

Of course, now I have to think about

the fact that one of my neighbors may have

seen you enter the house.

But listen, I don't have time to tutor

you on the error of your ways.

You have crossed a line, literally.

And now, I have to dispose of you.

- You?

Are going to dispose of me?

- Don't look so surprised.

I have far more experience than you do,

and my body count is much higher.

- What are you talking about, cow?

You're nothing special,

you're just meat.

- Stop it with the meat thing, already.

I don't care if it is your thing,

it is gross and unflattering

and I can't imagine that any of

your victims thought otherwise.

- Die, meat!

- You first.

Amateurs.

Morning started out so good, too.

Perfect, just perfect.

- There's something about strong,

unpredictable women that really gets my blood pumping.

Be honest,

did you see that one coming?

I mean, I know the competition is fierce out there.

But it does pay to do one's homework.

- Mistress!

- What is it, Addy,

can't you see I'm entertaining?

- Yeah, Mistress, but I have news.

Very important news.

- Well, spit it out.

- I'm not sure this is the kind

of news you want the world to know, Mistress.

- These are my guests, pet,

they know that what happens in

the Abyss stays in the Abyss.

Now, what's your news?

- It's all the buzz in the the sternal pool, Mistress.

- And I care what those harpies are spouting why?

- It concerns you, Mistress.

- Office gossip does not concern me, pet.

- This does, Mistress, I assure you.

- This had better be bad, Addy,

or I may feed you to Babayonga.

- It's bad, Mistress.

Balthazar has signed a pope.

- A what?

- A pope, Mistress.

- How is that possible?

No one wishes to be pope anymore.

The Metachis and the Borgia's were the last.

- Not anymore, Mistress.

They're calling him The Black Pope,

though he is only in acolyte now.

They've played out the odds

and it looks like world domination

is in 25 years.

- How is it that I am just hearing about this?

Anyone with this kind of desire

should've been on my radar.

- It must have slipped through the cracks, Mistress!

We often overlook the clergy for obvious reasons.

- The clergy is exactly the group we

should not be overlooking.

How can this get any worse?

- Well, Mistress,

there is one thing.

- And that is?

- Word in the pool is this upset

puts Balthazar in the lead for four corrupts a year.

- Oh, it does?

Bring me the box!

- Right away, Mistress.

- I'm sorry, pets.

Our little demonstration will have to wait.

Why don't I set you up with another diversion

while I take care of this irritant.

How fitting.

Things that go bump in the night.

We've all heard them,

most are harmless.

The sounds of an old building settling,

the creaking of a tree branch

just outside the bedroom window.

The thing that lives under the bed.

Sometimes the sounds we hear,

particularly those in public places

that really get under our skin

and annoy us with their inconvenience,

what do we do then?

Do we lie back and listen?

Or do we take action?

And are we ready for the consequences

of sticking our noses into the business

of complete strangers when one thin wall

separates us from our safe, secure reality.

Take, for instance,

this incommodiate little cautionary tale,

simply titled The Wake Up Call.

- [Man] Sir?

Sir, can I help you?

- Yes, this is room 210.

I'd like a 5:30 wake up call, please.

Thank you.

(loud sounds)

(people talking loudly)

(people yelling)

Hello?

Yes, this is 210,

I was just calling because

there's people next door making

a bunch of noise.

Thank you.

(people yelling)

(phone ringing)

(loud noises)

(crying)

(water running)

(door opens and closes)

(eerie music)

(tapping)

(phone ringing)

(mysterious sounds)

- Any word?

- Still nein, Mistress.

- Where is that little blow fly?

He is never around when you want him.

- We've tried all channels, Mistress.

- Oh, alright.

If you want something done right,

do it yourself.

- Cameras.

Kinky.

- Where the hell have you been, Cupid?

My people have been messaging you

non-stop for hours.

- 10 minutes, Mistress.

- Shut up, you!

- I must have my cell phone on vibrate.

I'm here now, give me some sugar, baby.

- Not so fast, sprite.

I brought you here for a purpose.

- Of course you did.

No better lovin' can be found than

right here in the arms of the ol' love doctor.

- Love doctor?

Since when do you have a degree?

- I'm a specialist.

The title's honorary.

Love may be my specialty,

but lust is what I do best.

I knew it was only a matter of time

before you called on me again.

Once you go cupid,

everything else is stupid.

- Clever.

But I brought you here for a purpose.

I have a job for you.

- Ooh, a job!

Like a blow jo-

- Not that kind of job, you perv.

(whispering)

Maybe that could be arranged

after you do me a little favor.

- Favor.

What kind of favor?

- One that's right up your alley,

my little passion puppet.

I want you to make somebody fall in love.

- Hey, it's what I do best.

- I thought lust was what you did best.

- Shut up, you!

I have someone very specific in mind

for your special treatment.

A member of the clergy.

- Clergy.

That's easy.

I'll just take some alter boys,

throw 'em at him-

- No, pet.

I don't want an easy fix.

I want you to give this one

the full treatment.

I want you to give him his soul mate.

- His what?

You can't be serious.

- Are you saying it's outside of your abilities?

I thought you were the master of such things.

- Yeah, I am, but...

- Maybe I should ask Ammyadethup.

Maybe he's up for the challenge.

- No, no, no,

I never said I couldn't do it.

It's just not something I do every day.

- That's what makes it so special,

isn't it, pet?

- Special may be too mild a term.

Try rare.

- So you can do it?

- Yeah, but it's gonna cost you.

- You're talking to the top

soul broker of the Abyss.

I'm sure we can arrange something

mutually beneficial.

- Get ready for an experience you'll

never forget, baby.

- I'm aquiver with anticipation.

- I see what you did there!

Well, let's say we get rid

of the civilians and make some memories.

- Not until the job is done.

I expect results, Cupid.

I'm not the kind of gal you

want to be on the bad side of.

- Baby, from where I'm standing,

you ain't got a bad side.

- Let's keep it that way, shall we?

Now, hurry up sugar wings.

We haven't much time to avert catastrophe

and I'm just aching to be pawed by you.

- Not even a kiss for good luck?

- Are you saying what you do

is dependent upon luck?

- Hell no,

I'm a professional.

- That's what I thought.

Later.

Okay, well then that's done.

Where were we?

Oh, yes, our final chapter

in our little parade of sins.

(mysterious music)

Not all sinners are born into their misery,

some are made.

Molded by adversity and circumstance,

then forged in the flames of hopelessness.

They then become desperate disciples

to an ancient drive:

revenge.

Once that line is crossed, however,

there can be no turning back.

We've seen our sinners at work,

let's take a peek into the incubator,

where one moment in time can flip the switch

to a lifetime of wickedness.

A delicious little overture

aptly titled Wolff's Law.

- [Man] I don't really know him.

Like, I see him in the halls every once in while

and maybe we've had a class together,

but I've never really talked to him.

- [Man] We went to middle school together.

He used to be way different.

He's like really shy now.

- [Woman] He seems nice,

but I've never talked to him.

- [Man] Yeah, he gets picked on.

Everyone does.

- [Woman] He's emo for sure.

(crowd talking)

- Check it out.

Hey, wait, wait, what's on your face, man?

It looks pretty bad.

What happened?

Hey, are you okay?

Hey, I'm talking to you, dude.

Hey, I'm talking to you!

Fuckin' faggot.

(kids talking)

How's it going, buddy?

Good to see you.

I'm sorry about this morning, k?

What are you drawing?

It's nice.

Oh what, I can't see it?

(laughing)

That sucks.

You suck.

- I don't know, man.

- What?

- Things are just...

Hazy.

- I feel you.

Look at me.

You're good.

It's just fuckin' life.

- I've never been in a fight.

Not even close.

I haven't hurt anybody.

But sometimes...

I swear I can see it.

- No more ghanja for you, man.

That shit makes you think too much.

It'll be okay, bro.

(talking on television)

- [Man] Where you been?

Hey?

- [Guy] Fuckin' faggot.

Pablo Picasso.

Oh, so I can have this now?

Oh, I can have this?

Huh?

You're giving this to me?

(clock ticking)

(school bell)

You stabbed me!

- [Woman] What's going on here?

- That was so crazy.

- Yeah, it was stupid.

- Stupid, yeah, but ballsy.

Fuckin' a.

Anyways, I think they got the point man.

No pun intended.

Yo, let me get those notes for Hansen's class.

- Yeah, for sure.

- Can't understand a fuckin'

word that old man says.

- He puts it on the board too, you know.

- Hey, so I can't go to the park today.

- Why not?

- I gotta put in some mom time.

Plus, I think she's onto me, man.

I can only get pinkeye so many times,

if you know what I mean.

And I should probably study for Hansen's test, too.

- Uh huh.

- Hey, fuck you!

I might.

For real though, I'm out.

Are you good?

- Yeah.

- Good.

Hang in there, killer.

(mysterious music)

(screaming and yelling)

- [Woman] I talked to the school.

They told me what happened in class.

They're suspending you for a week, Hyde.

And those other boys, too.

Hyde?

- [Man On Television] The flag flies at

half staff tonight over the White House,

the Washington Monument in the background.

Lady Liberty still stands in front of

the New York skyline altered so much

on that fateful day.

The music you're hearing now is Mozart's Requiem,

being sung by a choir in Baltimore.

They're joined tonight by other choirs

in time zone after time zone around the world.

Tonight, the nation and the world remember

the attacks one year ago on New York City,

The Pentagon, and the plane that crashed.

In all, 2,977 lives were lost that day.

288 million lives, the lives of all Americans,

forever changed.

Thank you for joining us tonight on-

(sobbing)

(yelling)

(screaming)

(muffled screaming)

- [Hyde] Pain is just the fear of pain.

Once you take away the shock,

once you expect it,

it becomes nothing.

The more I endure,

the more I can take.

Like a flame is so hot it feels cold.

When your life is nothing but pain,

pain is nothing.

(dramatic music)

(knocking)

- [Man] Honey,

come on, let's go.

(mysterious music)

- What do you want, man?

Seriously, I mean, I'm done with-

(screaming)

(yelling)

(soft music)

- Oh, hello, pets.

Did you enjoy my little offerings?

Sort of a serial killer smorgasbord.

I didn't intend for that to happen,

but you know how it goes.

Think about something long enough

and you're bound to will it into existence.

- Mistress, more news from the sternal pool!

- What news, pet?

- It worked, Mistress.

- What worked, pet?

- Your plan Mistress!

Cupid found a soul mate for your target

and he wrote his vows in record time.

- Did he?

- Yeah, Mistress, he's been defrocked

and is planning to be wed within the week.

- Defrocked, you say!

- Yeah, Mistress.

- On what grounds?

- Fornication.

- The clergy looks down on such things, don't they?

- It's the gravest of sins for a priest, Mistress.

- He's to be wed, you say?

- Yeah, Mistress.

- And what are the odds now, pet?

- Balthazar is in a tizzy.

Now that the acolyte has been defrocked,

there is no way he can become pope.

The best he can hope for now is dictator,

or captain of industry.

- Dime a dozen these days, aren't they, pet?

- Indeed, Mistress.

- And that puts whom back in the lead?

- You, Mistress!

- Excellent.

- Now, Cupid is in the waiting room, Mistress.

Shall I show him in?

- Let him stew a bit, Addy.

A couple months should be sufficient.

- As you wish, Mistress.

- This is your lucky day, my sweet.

Mama's feeling playful.

Well, there you have it, my pets.

A glimpse into the inner workings of the Abyss,

where anything is possible if the mortal

mind can conceive it.

I do hope you will join me for another stroll down

the unhallowed halls of immorality,

where a man is his own worst enemy.

Until next time,

this is perdition's Mistress of iniquity,

Lady Belladonna,

reminding you to live like there's no tomorrow.

For one day, you too could find

yourself part of my collection.

A paragon of vice,

with your own special place

amongst the sins of men.

(playful music)

(upbeat music)