Original subtitles

¶¶¶

So here we are again, with more Freaky Stories...

[HIC]

Oh, man... now what?

[HIC]

Sorry I just have the [HIC]

Hiccups?

[HIC]

Well, you gotta get rid of 'em, that's all there is to it.

Yeah [HIC]

I guess I'll introduce [HIC]

uh, the first [HIC] story...

Um, it's a-[HIC] it's a-[HIC]

Yeah? -Aaaaaaaa!!!

Oh!

I'll never get used to Maurice's face.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Little Mary-Anne McGuire was the new girl at the school.

Her mother moved around a lot looking for work,

so Smalltown High was Mary-Anne's fourth school

in three years.

She arrived late on her first day of classes.

Mrs. McCarthy, her homeroom teacher,

warned her about tardiness.

She'd let it go this time, but "repeat offenders have

to go to the office and visit Mr. Fowler!"

The other kids froze in their seats.

Then she heard frightened

whispers..."Oh, no, Mr. Fowler!?"...not Mr. Fowler!".

Mary-Anne got the feeling that something was

...wrong at Smalltown High.

At lunch time the next day, one of the girls

accidentally bumped Mary-Anne,

spilling her tray.

Mrs. Hardiman, the cafeteria lady,

told her that accidents do happen - but if it ever

happened again, she'd have to "have a chat with Mr. Fowler."

Suddenly the cafeteria was so quiet,

you could hear a pin drop.

Then the whispering began.

"Fowler. Fowler! She'll have to go see FOWLER!"

On the third day, in Mr. Brett's chemistry class,

he called upon her to answer a simple question.

When she didn't know the correct number of valence

shells in a plutonium atom, he looked at her sternly.

"Students who fall behind in their studies must have a

consultation with Mr. Fowler!"

The room fell silent.

Jeannie Rasmussen broke into tears.

Phil Bunches at the next table dropped his test tube.

Then that whispering started.

Mary-Anne couldn't stand it any more.

She just couldn't believe everyone was so frightened

of one dumb principal.

She gathered her books.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

asked Mr. Brett.

"To see Mr. Fowler," said Mary-Anne.

Mr. Brett's eyes went wide, his mouth fell open.

Mary-Anne made her way down the creaky staircase

to the main floor.

"Can I help you dear?"

asked Mrs. Hubbard, the secretary.

"I've come to see Mr. Fowler,

said Mary-Anne.

"And why would you need to see him?"

questioned Mrs. Hubbard.

"I've been bad," said Mary-Anne,

thinking quickly, "really bad."

Mrs. Hubbard's face went white as a preacher's collar.

"No. Not today. He's extremely busy. Now scoot!"

That's when Mary-Anne heard the roar from behind the

frosted-glass door.

"Bring me the next student!"

No wonder all the kids were so terrified.

"Go! Get out while you still can!"

urged Mrs. Hubbard.

After school that day, she waited in the rain for her

mother to pick her up.

She looked back at the school.

There was only one light on...

in the principal's office.

And through the sound of the rain she could make out

his roaring laughter.

"Wait a sec Mom.

There's something I forgot."

Inside, were the teachers.

All of them.

Having a party...and laughing.

Until Mr. Brett saw her.

He rushed over to pull down the blinds,

but it was too late.

Mary-Anne had seen the truth.

Mr. Fowler had looked right at her.

As evil and scary as could be.

But he wasn't scary at all!

Because Mr. Fowler was actually a dummy,

a puppet built by the teachers...meant to keep the

kids scared and well behaved.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

And Mary-Anne's made a lot of friends at

Smalltown High.

And she's definitely not afraid to visit the

principal's office anymore.

[HIC]

You gotta hold your breath.

How long?

'Til the hiccups go away.

'Til the [HIC]cups go away?

[mocking] Yeah, til the [HIC] cups go away.

Okay.

[INHALE]

Good. Now, you're gonna love our next story.

It's a real hoot.

Ah, ah, ah!

Hold it... hold it... good.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine,

Reggie...but all his amigos in the hood called him

'the birdman'.

Now there were two things that Reggie was totally into.

Birds, of course.

And the passing of the pigskin.

Comprendé?

I'm talkin' about that bone-crushin' battle of the

big boys...football!

Not to dis the guy, but Reggie was one strange

dude all right.

The bird thing took a little getting used to,

but man, he just seemed to fly out there on the field.

The day soon came when Reggie had to quit hangin'

around the hood and acting like a bird brain.

You see, Reggie got a football scholarship to

Hackford University, the most straight up learning

locale in the country.

But even at that humongous campus,

it didn't take Reggie long to find a few

feathered friends.

Then he met the wolves - the Hackford Wolves

football team, that is.

And man, they were some serious bad hombrés.

But it took a lot to ruffle The Birdman's feathers.

Still, the team had no intention of rolling out the

red carpet for any weird new dude,

especially one who thinks he's some kind of a bird.

First, there was the oil slick soap trick,

then the itching powder in the jock strap...

all topped off with a locker full of live rats.

At practice, Reggie was far from

soaring with the eagles.

Reggie tried to explain the problem to the coach,

but the man told him "get with the program or get out".

That's when he heard big Bubba

tellin' the rest of the team they wouldn't have to worry

about playin' with that "chicken-necked,

bird brain at season opener."

Ya see, Bubba'd convinced the coach to keep the

birdman benched because he wasn't a "team player",

or some such doo-doo, man.

Needless to say, The Birdman was bummed.

But then an idea hit him like a clothes line tackle.

Next morning, Reggie got up early,

way before the team arrived to practice,

and went to the field.

He wore a black and white striped shirt,

lugged a big sack, and started blowing on a

silver whistle.

Um...yeah...

So anyway, he does this little ritual every morning

for two weeks.

Until it was time for the big season opening game

for the Hackford Wolves.

Seemed like the whole state turned out for the game,

and Bubba and the rest of the Wolves were lapping it

up like puppy dogs.

Then the referee blew the whistle.

And that's when the bean burrito hit the fan.

The birds came from far and wide,

hundreds, thousands of them.

And with the birds came their white,

gooey by-product...by the bucketful...free of charge.

And from that day forward, Bubba and the boys were the

biggest joke of the entire state.

And Reggie finally made his big decision.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Oh, and Reggie's doin' just great.

After writing an award-winning thesis on bird

behaviour, Reggie became one of the most sought after

bird wranglers in Hollywood!

Ahh, that was a good one, huh!?

Now, our next story is a pip.

It's what put the Freaky in Freaky Stories.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Joey, a high school basketball star wannabe.

Not that Joey wasn't a righteous ball player,

just not the best, not yet anyway.

But he had plans.

And one of them was to score a scholarship to a big-name

college and then go on to the pros,

where he'd become rich and famous.

Yup, Joey was ambitious.

He tried to do everything right.

He even went out with the right girl.

Mindy, the head cheerleader.

And get this, her folks were loaded.

I'd say Joey'd landed in a bucket o' cream.

[LAUGH]

Okay, so Joey's birthday was coming up and Mindy

wanted it to be something special.

She was gonna throw a surprise party.

And what a surprise...

She loaded up on party supplies,

you know, all the stuff.

Plus, the biggest, deluxe cake she could find.

What about a gift?

Well, Joey was such a lucky guy she thought,

hey!, a lottery ticket!

Joey...was...surprised.

Mindy'd invited the basketball team,

the coaches, the cheerleaders,

all the right inside people.

They all sung.

Phew, and some people could not sing.

I'm telling ya, it was terrible!

And, as always, there were pretty girls fawning at him,

as they do in the presence of greatness,

according to Joey.

He was soakin' up all the attention.

A man in his element.

So, Mindy figures it's about time for the big present.

She moved in next to Joey and handed over

the lottery ticket.

Now, Joey, of course, was expecting something a little

more...extravagant, maybe.

I mean, a lottery ticket, what's that set ya back?

Coupla bucks?

So he just said, "Uh, gee thanks Mindy",

tossed the ticket on the table,

and then went back to flirting with the cute

blonde that he'd been moving in on.

Mindy didn't seem phased at all.

She picked up that ticket and then,

being the perfect hostess that she was,

wandered around chatting with all the guests.

Being that the party was in full swing,

no one was too interested in some nothin' lottery show.

That is...until the first three numbers matched the

numbers on Joey's ticket.

Then the next numbers were drawn

and they all matched!!

The last number was all that was left.

Finally, Joey dragged himself away from the blonde

and noticed what what was going on on the TV.

The crowd watched the final ball tumble out of the

machine, down the endless tubes and into the little

tray at the bottom.

"And the final number is...twenty seven!"

Joey snatched the ticket from Mindy and

checked the numbers.

"Oooo! I just won twenty three million dollars!

I just won twenty three million dollars!!

[LAUGHS]

Thanks babe," he said to Mindy,

"But ya know?

I don't need you or your money anymore.

I got my own."

Yup, he was rich, filthy, stinking rich.

And as for all the two-bit basketball players that

liked to hang around him, well,

he didn't need them either.

"I don't even need to break a sweat for the rest of my life.

Heh, heh."

Everyone looked stunned, except Mindy,

who just smiled.

Joey grabbed the blonde and said,

"I'm gonna claim my winnings and buy a new Porsche!"

Mindy didn't show any reaction,

which was weird, but what she did next said it all.

She walked over to the VCR and popped out the tape.

She stepped away from the TV screen.

It was the same host

but he'd drawn a different final number in the lottery.

"You just watched a taped version of last week's draw.

Your ticket is for tonight," said Mindy.

[SCREAMS]

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine,

Joey. And Mindy?

Well, [CHUCKLE] I'm dating her now, and believe me,

I don't look at any other girls.

What? Where?

Oh! Yikes! I forgot!

Maurice, Maurice breathe!

Come on! Let it out!

Ugh!

Argh! Your breath...[SNIFF]

it's like -- swamp gas.

Ohh.....oh.

My breath isn't that bad, is it?

What do you think?

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine,

Osgood Toadworthy.

Now, when I was a lad, shortly after the earth cooled,

Osgood was an old, OLD man,

who pretty much owned the entire town.

He owned our only factory, our only bank...our only

everything...even the undertaker's.

Dead or alive, Osgood Toadworthy was gonna extract

every last dollar from your wallet,

you betcha.

Not surprisingly then, Osgood was about as popular

as a belching contest at a Sweet Sixteen party.

People only put up with Osgood because A) he paid

their salary, and B)...

well, actually, there was no "B".

Osgood was just a boil on the butt of humanity.

The only good thing you could say about him was that

one day, he'd be gone.

Or so you might think.

Actually, Osgood had a plan.

You see, Osgood had so much money,

he knew he'd never live long enough to spend it all.

And the mere thought of someone else spending

it...even after he was dead...

made Osgood break out in a cold sweat.

Oh, and those were the days before deodorant,

my friend.

At any rate, Osgood had this plan.

You see, there were only two ways to make sure no one

else got his money.

One was to spend it all right away.

The other was to live forever.

Impossible, right?

Not if you had the kind of wealth that Osgood had.

Osgood put ads in every newspaper in the country.

He promised great jobs for doctors and scientists

if they'd come to work for him.

He offered to pay well...

well, otherwise how would he get top notch scientists?

What he didn't mention was that they had to work in his

creepy fortress-like mansion.

And no one was allowed to leave until they'd

discovered a way to make Osgood immortal!

Working for Osgood in his mansion was like working for

Atilla the Hun in Frankenstein's lab.

But okay, let's make a long story short.

It took years and Osgood was almost on death's door

but they finally came up with it.

An immortality formula that was guaranteed to work!

Oh yes, Osgood got his formula...

terrific...whoop-dee-doo.

But there was a catch.

There's always a catch.

You see, the scientists only worked out the formula

in theory.

The rare elements they would need to actually

make the concoction...

Well, that would completely obliterate Osgood's fortune.

His mansion, all the property he owned,

even his whalebone girdle...all of it would

have to go to pay for one dose of the formula.

But immortality...I mean, come on!

This was Osgood's dream!

And besides, he had the whole rest of time to

rebuild his fortune!

You'd take the deal, right?

Well Osgood did.

He sold everything he owned right down to his underwear

to get those rare elements.

So the scientists, some of whom were seeing daylight

for the first time in a decade,

mixed up the elixir.

Osgood drank it and, well...

[BELCH]

burped.

You were expecting him to turn into a vampire

or something? No.

He could still see his reflection in a mirror,

only now he was immortal!

So what if he was as broke as the guy who invented

cheese-flavoured gum.

He'd finally achieved his dream!

Little did Osgood know what he'd gotten himself into.

Mind you, today, ninety-two years later,

Osgood Toadworthy is still broke and he doesn't

look in too many mirrors.

Why? Well, you be the judge.

You see, the formula made him immortal all right.

But Osgood never specified that he wanted

to stop aging!

He's a hundred and seventy-two now,

and he'll just keep getting...

and looking...older and older until he

literally falls apart.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine,

Osgood Toadworthy.

Who, surprisingly, has become the most popular

person in our town's old folks home.

Not because of his personality or anything.

Oh no.

But because, by comparison, he makes the rest of us

feel so young.

Check this out.

Joey, in Sudbury, Ontario, writes;

'Dear Larry, how come you never have country music

on your show? Do you hate country music?'

Ugh, Joey! Are you kidding me?

Maurice!

¶ He bathes in slime He wallows in grease. ¶

¶ He's our favorite maggot. ¶

¶ Uh-huh uh-huh it's me, Maurice! ¶

¶ I'll burp, I'll belch, I'll drool, I'll fart ¶

¶ to see me barf is state-of-the-art. ¶

¶ Yeee-Haa! ¶

¶ He bathes in slime he wallows in grease. ¶

¶ He's our favorite maggot. ¶

¶ Uh-huh uh-huh it's me, Maurice! ¶

¶ M - A - U - R - eese, Maurice! ¶

That's slime! Thank you Moosejaw!

Thank you! Thank you, you're too kind!

Don't forget your bow!

Bow.

You deserve a bow.

Wow. -Bow.

I love you people. Let me kiss you.

¶¶¶