Original subtitles

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LARRY: Testing. Testing. One, two, three.

Testing.

MAURICE: Okay, bring up the lights.

LARRY: Cue the music.

MAURICE: Here he is, your host with the most...

The most what?

LARRY: Just introduce me.

MAURICE: Okay, okay.

Here he is, your host with the most...

something or other.

Larry!

Hey, there everybody!

Whoa! Oh!

Oh, now I get it.

The host with the most bumps on his head.

Time for our first Freaky Story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Daniel.

Okay, so he's not my friend, he's my brother.

Daniel and his family, which includes me,

Mom, and Dad, went on a trip to Mexico for Spring Break.

We were having a really good time until one morning when

Mom thought the family should go souvenir shopping.

We went to the local market place and in no time we

bought everything in sight - a sombrero,

a sarape, maracas and every kind of trinket stamped

"Made in Mexico".

But on the way back to the hotel,

Daniel realized that he lost his brand new

good-luck-charm necklace.

He was standing in the road, screaming his head off.

Dad calmed him down and told us boys to just go back

and look for it.

Daniel and me walked down the road looking behind

trash bins and things, and guess what we found.

Behind an old packing case, there was this scrawny

little puppy gnawing away on Daniel's missing

good-luck-charm.

We called mom and dad to come and look.

Dad said that the animal must be some kind of

Chihuahua or something.

And I've got to admit he was kind of cute.

Daniel was crazy about the little guy,

even though our parents thought he was kind of

weird looking.

So I backed off.

It would be Daniel's pet, weird-looking as he was.

I mean the dog, not Daniel, who's weird

in his own way.

So anyway, our Dad looked around for its owner,

and couldn't find him, so he decided to let Daniel

keep the dog.

They fed him, gave him a bath,

and named him George.

George and Daniel were like this

for the rest of the vacation.

And when it was time to fly home,

Daniel assumed that George was coming with him.

But Dad said 'no', which set off

the mother of all temper tantrums.

Daniel never screamed that long or that hard ever.

Finally, Mom and Dad caved in.

Moms and dads usually do.

So when we all got home - "all" included George,

our newest family member Daniel totally flipped out.

George was the coolest pet that any of us ever saw.

Heck! Daniel even let him share his food,

his bed and his bath.

He was way more fun than a rubber duck.

I mean, can a rubber duck fetch?

George could.

And what about sitting up and begging,

rolling over and stuff?

No rubber duck could do that.

But George, he was a quick learner.

Of course George slept in Daniel's bed mostly.

But sometimes he'd get to sleep with me.

Even with Mom and Dad, sometimes.

George got to be "one of us".

And so, one day, Daniel said that he was taking George

to school for 'Show and Tell'.

Mom didn't think this was a very good idea

"Well the little pup'll be scared to death,"

she said.

But Daniel started to scream.

So Mom said 'Okay,' not wanting to experience

another mother of a tantrum...

since she would fold in the end anyway.

Daniel crammed the dog into his schoolbag and ran

to meet the bus.

A couple of hours later the phone rang.

It was the principal.

He wanted to see Mom and Dad in his office right away.

They jumped in the car and raced to school.

"Uh... Is something wrong?" asked Dad.

"What's Daniel done this time?"

The Principal led them down the hall

to the Science Room.

"I'm afraid there's a little problem",

said Mr. Lamprey, the Science Teacher.

"Tell me. Where did you get your 'pet'?"

Mom and Dad exchanged glances.

What could be wrong, they wondered.

Mr. Lamprey, the Science Teacher,

told them, "Your pet isn't from around here...

You might say that it's a tropical breed...

And stranger still, George isn't even a dog at all..."

Mr. Lamprey took a deep breath.

He told them - being real careful,

trying not to shock them - that George was really...

"A GIANT SEWER RAT!!!"

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

And do you know anyone who wants to buy a pet?

Real cheap.

While Larry's getting his head taken care of,

here's another story.

Can you believe how dumb that guy is?

You gotta be a real nitwit...

LARRY: Maurice. Oh, Maurice.

Yes Larry?

Ha Ha.

See that?

Missed me.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine...

Lulu Mortez.

My employer's daughter.

My employer is a mortician, which is why life is

difficult for Lulu.

Growing up in a huge creepy house,

a parking lot full of hearses as your playground,

the basement crammed with coffins,

over-sized refrigerators and of course,

the dead.

And being a mortician's daughter,

it's quite hard to throw a really fun sleep-over.

It broke her dear mother's heart to see the other girls

going off on their first real dates while Lulu stayed

at home greeting the bereaved.

So Mrs. Mortez decided to make her daughter

the biggest, most elaborate Sweet Sixteen Party

this town had ever seen.

But alas, the nastiest girl in school was

Ashley Ashcroft.

Her sixteenth birthday had been a rather posh affair at

the local country club.

And Ashley swore she would stop at nothing before she'd

let some formaldehyde stinking freak out-do her.

But Mrs. Mortez did herself proud.

Instead of the usual coffin on the raised platform,

there was a three piece band.

The carnations were replaced with roses.

And instead of sad sobs, the tinkling of a raspberry

punch fountain wafted through the room.

But in the end, it was still a funeral parlour.

Guests were terrified to enter alone.

Each girl put her gift on a table in the main hall and

then creeped timidly into the reception area.

Mr. and Mrs. Mortez were not even there to see their

daughter's imminent crushing disappointment.

One Mr.Parsegian, an atomic research technician had

sadly passed away that morning and his cremation

could not be delayed.

So Lulu's doting parents and I were in the basement

stoking the furnace when the nasty Ashley

finally arrived.

Ashley was late, because she had discovered the smallest

of blemishes just below her right cheek.

The sweet sixteen party was already a humiliating

disaster when Ashley wafted in like an ill-wind.

She hugged Lulu and insisted they play a little game of

Double Dare.

"Everyone at the really fun parties play it," she said.

"It'll be a blast!"

Ashley's first victim, Lesley,

pulled a slip of paper from the hat and was forced to

reveal the name of the boy she most recently kissed

or be forever remembered as a scaredy-cat,

party-pooper.

Then it was Lulu's turn.

Lulu put on her blindfold and stuck her hand into the

vile concoction Ashley smuggled into the party in a

crusty Mason jar.

Her hand went in with a squish.

The main ingredients, which Ashley had personally

prepared, were half-set jelly and tapioca pudding

with a rotten egg added for obvious effect.

Peeled grapes slithered at the top.

And there were a few unfortunate earth worms

near the bottom.

Ashley waited with baited breath to hear the

inevitable scream, and see the humiliation as Lulu

raced out of her own Sweet Sixteen Party.

Lulu stirred her hand round and round the slimy

substance, and pulled out a long slithery thing and

asked, "Is this a really dead eel or what?"

Ashley screamed and nearly went into a fit.

Mr. and Mrs. Mortez and I scrambled up from the

basement, I deposited the container of what remained

of Mr. Parsegian on the front table.

When Ashley saw the gold-plated urn,

she knew she could still spoil the party.

By the time I told Mr. and Mrs. Mortez where I had put

Mr. Parsegian, it was too late.

You see, when Ashley arrived home,

she looked inside and wondered what the price of

volcanic ash mud packs were these days.

Hmmm...maybe it would cure her blemish.

She added water and applied liberally.

Ashley had Mr. Parsegian plastered all over her face.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Oh, Ashley is still just as mean as ever.

But her skin is truly radiant.

Get that thing outta here!

Thank you.

Ah. For our next Freaky Story -

Oof!

Ha Ha Ha. Bingo!

Here's our next Freaky Story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

But like, how friendly can you be with a guy who likes

to spend all his free time sitting on his roof playing

with his telescope.

Which is why the guy deserved the name

"Pigeon Dave".

Take the night Pigeon Dave was on his roof,

staring at the stars through his telescope,

like always.

Suddenly he saw this UFO.

Or so he thought.

Dave went bonkers and called the cops.

"Hello, police," he said, "I want to report an

unidentified flying object".

Well, yeah. Right.

Uh, but the cop had to come over and check it out,

because a report is a report.

And so he climbed onto Pigeon Dave's roof and fell.

Benny the cop was hanging from the ledge,

hollering.

Pigeon Dave couldn't find the UFO

so he was hollering too.

Pigeon Dave finally hoisted old scaredy-cat Benny

onto the roof.

Fortunately, Benny was thankful so he didn't arrest

Dave for calling in a false alarm.

The next night, Pigeon Dave went right back to peek

through his dumb old telescope again.

This time, no matter how hard he tried,

he couldn't find stars anywhere.

But when Pigeon Dave was finally able to focus,

he was looking at an apartment across town.

And what Pigeon Dave saw was one scary sight.

No, not the big fat guy disco dancing by himself

in his window.

Down one, and to the right.

No, not the lady with the mud pack and the curlers

gargling into her sink.

To the left!

There.

Pigeon Dave focused on a window where the shades were

pulled down tight.

But behind the shades he saw a shadowy silhouette.

And the shadow on the shade was doing something

very strange.

What looked like an arm holding something long and

pointy was coming down over and over again

on somebody's head.

Now, Pigeon Dave was sure he saw somebody being stabbed!!

Well, Pigeon Dave had to call the cops.

And wouldn't you know it!

Benny took the call.

And he agreed to meet Dave at the building.

When Benny pulled up, he tried to look mean to show

he'd better not be tricked this time.

Pigeon Dave told him to look up and see for himself.

Benny looked up at a window, and said,

"I admit the guy's a lousy dancer,

but that ain't a reason to arrest him."

Dave told him, "No, no, you're looking at the

wrong window."

He pointed to the silhouette of the arm going up and

down, and up and down.

And suddenly it stopped.

"We're too late," says Dave.

They rushed up to the apartment door.

And that's when they heard a grunting moaning sound.

Over and over again, a pained,

awful groaning.

Benny said, "Step back.

This is police business now".

And with that, he sprung into action.

Taking three steps back, Benny lowered one shoulder,

sized up the door, and took off.

And WHAMO!

He bounced right off the door.

At which point Pigeon Dave turned the knob

and opened the door.

Inside, Gus Velour, the big-time mobster,

was working out in his home gym.

Every time Big Gus lifted his legs,

the weight machine came down on his chest.

And every time it did, Big Gus let out this grunt.

Big Gus was not exactly thrilled to see Benny

without a warrant.

He got off his machine and threw his towel past the

sprawled out Benny.

Well, Benny was forced to apologize to Big Gus,

for barging in without an invitation,

suspecting there was a dead body in the place.

Big Gus just stood over him, dripping sweat onto

Benny's face.

For the second time in two nights,

Pigeon Dave had gotten Benny all embarrassed.

After Benny finally got calmed down and stopped

threatening to put Pigeon Dave in the clink and throw

away the key, Pigeon Dave went back home and climbed

onto his roof.

He took one last look through his trusty spyglass.

There was Big Gus Velour looking straight at him.

And Big Gus had this weird evil grin on his face.

And he even winked at Pigeon Dave.

Winked and laughed...an eerie maniacal laugh that

echoed across the roof tops.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Pigeon Dave.

Who decided that instead of calling the cops,

he'd just call it quits.

Ahem. Our next story is a hairy tale...

Which neither of us has.

Ahhhhhh.

I'm just trying to help.

You helped enough today.

Come on let's get outta here.

So what'd you do with the microphone?

Oh it was dangerous up there, so I put it on the floor.

Right. Whoooaaa!

[Woman with Russian accent:] This is true story.

It happened to friend of friend of mine,

Max, a little kid who loves my stuffed cabbage --

which we serve in school cafeteria on Tuesdays.

He is scrawny little guy with glasses thicker than

phone book.

But he is how-you-say..."wiz kid" in chemistry.

He blows up lab three times already,

and he's only fourteen.

One day Max saw Rhonda.

The chemistry genius was quick to develop sudden

interest in biology.

Rhonda had blonde from a bottle,

green contact lenses, expensive dental work,

and the brains of a...

well, this was her third time trying to pass

Mr. Chiapetta's class.

But Max didn't care.

He was in love.

Max was only fourteen, but Rhonda was a "sophisticated"

older woman.

She was almost sixteen.

Some men like older women which is good thing for me.

Rhonda was dating boys who had cars,

part-time jobs, and they shaved.

Now, Max gets carsick just thinking about cars,

and his parents thought a job would interfere with his

schoolwork - Max might get a 98 instead of a 100.

What else would impress Rhonda?

Hair. Manly facial hair.

Max sat in front of mirror every morning,

but couldn't get even a single whisker to pop out

of his skin.

So he tried drawing mustache on,

but his mother took back the eyeliner pencil,

and threatened to send him for counseling.

So Max created a chemical formula.

As soon as he mixed it up, hair started growing on the

inside of test tube.

So Max splashed some on cue ball.

Instant hair!

He poured some on the floor.

Instant shag carpeting!

All he had to do was smear it on himself.

Using special gloves so that he wouldn't get hairy palms,

put a drop of formula on his finger,

then spread it to his upper lip and...

well, nothing happened.

Max figured, maybe a little more of the formula

will do it.

So he used two times as much,

but Max's upper lip was still bald as my papa's

shiny head.

He was getting desperate.

He smeared on more and more.

Slathered it on in thick globs.

But when he looked at his face in old chrome kettle,

there was not one single new hair to be seen.

So Max gave up and went for a stroll.

He suddenly realized he forgot to account for the

porousness of human skin in his formula.

You know, how it sucks stuff up.

Maybe that is why he didn't see the car that slammed on

the brakes as he crossed the street.

And who should be in car but Rhonda and her latest date,

the captain of football team!

"Look what you did.

You almost scratched the paint!"

Max who was scared to death, threw his hands in front of

his face.

And that's when he felt it.

Hair!

The formula worked!

Then Max snarled at Randy.

That's right, snarled.

And Randy ran away!

Max wondered why he snarled.

But no time to worry about that,

because there stood the love of his life.

Max walked up to Rhonda, who was screaming with fright.

"It's okay".

"It's me. I'm fine."

But then, he saw in car mirror why Rhonda

was screaming.

You see, it took a while for the formula to work,

but it worked good, a little too good.

Max, the chemistry genius, turned himself into a

WEREWOLF!

[howls]

Like I said, this was a true story.

It happened to friend of friend of mine.

Max.

Who still doesn't have an after school job,

but now he's moonlighting.

Hey, here's Larry's Old Bag.

Our mail bag.

Yeah, let's see what we got here.

Okay, Ahem.

Oh, it's from Hector from Edmonton.

Yeah, no let's see...

Dear Larry; last month I wrote you about my problem.

Hmm...

Oh I remember.

Hector's a termite who was allergic to wood.

You told me to get that sticky shelf paper

that looks like wood.

Problem is, all that glue on the back of the sticky paper

caused a gastro intestinal blockage.

Maurice - What's on your face?

Um, nothing.

Did a viewer send me a chocolate cake?

Uh. No. [belch]

Oh. Devil's Food! I love Devil's Food!

Come here, you.

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