Original subtitles

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[crying]

What??

I miss my family! [crying]

You've got a family?

Oh, this I gotta hear about.

Right after our first freaky story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Now you wouldn't think us prison guards can be friends

of inmates.

But I guess I kinda took a liking to Jake

'cause he was clever.

Turned out he was too clever for his own good.

Jake was a pretty bad guy.

In trouble with the Law all his life.

Started out stealin' candy from babies then

downhill from there.

Was in and out of reform school for years 'til he

finally got caught robbin' a jewelry store.

The judge threw the book at him.

20 years hard time in Sing Sing Prison.

Maybe the words Sing Sing sound kinda nice to the ear,

but it's one of the toughest joints around.

Jake fit in swell.

The Warden gave Jake a little talk when he got there.

You know, the usual.

"Keep your nose clean.

No one escapes from Sing Sing."

That kinda stuff.

Jake took it in, but he was thinkin',

"I'm getting outta here and ain't nobody gonna stop me."

Okay, so Jake wasn't so hot with grammar,

but when your smarts are street smarts,

sometimes you don't end up speakin' good English,

like me.

Jake got tossed in a cell with an old guy.

Real old.

Name of Benny "The Beanpole" Burger.

Skinny as a match, but not so firey.

Had a wooden leg, and a glass eye an' a nose you

wouldn't wish on a clown.

Benny had been in stir since before the birth and death

of disco.

Rumour was he knew the Birdman of Alcatraz back

when he was the Eggman of Alcatraz.

At first Jake and Benny got on like oil an' water.

Old Benny made noises when he slept

and it drove Jake nuts.

Eventually, Jake got used to Benny's hacking and honking.

Besides they had somethin' in common.

Benny, when he was younger, was all the time

tryin' to escape.

He tried digging a tunnel under the wall.

Tied sheets together to hoist himself out.

He even tried the old file-in-the-cake trick.

Thirty-seven times he tried an' 37 times he failed.

Even though his success rate was pretty lousy

Jake admired the old guy's stick-to-it-tiveness.

But then old Benny got real sick.

As he lay dyin' in the prison hospital

Jake was by his side.

Benny motioned for Jake to lean into him an' whispered

in his ear, "Make the break, Jake.

For old Benny's sake."

Then he went off to that Big House in the Sky.

This encouragement from the guy who had practically

become Jake's father, was just the boost Jake needed.

Back in his cell Jake picked up his favorite book,

about Harry Houdini, the master of escape artists.

Flippin' through it he saw a picture that gave him

an idea.

The next day just before Benny's funeral Jake made a

call to a friend on the outside,

a friend who happened to be one of the best highjackers

north of the border.

Jake told him to wait near the local cemetery and

highjack Benny's coffin.

An unusual request to be sure.

But Jake knew this highjacker could not resist

a challenge.

After the other Cons paid their respects to the dear

departed Benny, Jake slipped into the coffin and pulled

the lid shut.

Now, like I said, Jake was a pretty tough guy,

but even a tough guy can get creeped out layin' in a

coffin next to a stiff.

But then gettin' out of the joint was worth

a little creepiness.

Later, the mortician and his assistant came in.

They bolted the lid down, then lifted the coffin onto

their trolley.

It was kinda heavy, sure.

But they figured the guy in the coffin must be one of

those body-builder guys.

As the coffin rolled along Jake was havin' trouble

not gigglin'.

He was on his way to freedom.

Everything was coming up roses, as they say.

Jake had plans, plans for burglaries,

heists, robberies.

He couldn't wait to get back into the game.

Jake heard some doors openin' and closin'.

Then the rollin' stopped.

He figured they were about to place the coffin

inside the hearse.

But Jake figured wrong.

He heard a roarin' kinda noise.

Finally, the coffin started to move.

Then Jake noticed it was gettin' kinda hot.

Real hot.

Especially near his feet.

An' he smelled somethin' burnin'.

Unbeknownst to Jake, was somethin' that was becomin'

very clear, very quickly.

His good buddy Benny requested a cremation.

As his feet began to blister Jake let out a huge yell

an' pounded like a madman on the lid.

The coffin stopped rollin', then backed up.

As the mortician's assistant put out the fire his boss

cracked open the lid.

Jake pulled himself up and stared right into the eyes

of the Warden.

"This is a true story.

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

Jake became a model prisoner,

content to live out the rest of his sentence just

doin' whatever me and the other guards said.

The words "I will not try to escape" were burned into his

memory ..and his feet.

Wanna see a picture of my family?

We've got a show to do.

Bring it in, Mario!

Huh? Can you see the family resemblance?

But that's, that's...

Well it's an aerial shot taken from three feet

off the ground by my uncle Eustace.

Our next freaky story.

Oh, look, Aunt Felicity and the twins!

You can hardly tell them apart.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

There were a couple of cousins who'd happened to

inherit the same mansion from Grandmama and lived

there together for most of their years.

Couldn't have been two more opposite girls.

The older one, Tammy, spent all her time primping and

preening and tanning and steaming.

The younger cousin, Agatha, was more of the book worm type.

Tweed was the closest thing to slinky she ever wore.

She'd pass her cousin Tammy lounging by the pool on her

way out to some bird watching expedition and

comment about ozone and sunscreen.

But Tammy'd give her no more notice than a stern warning

to keep out of her light.

See Tammy only cared what boys thought.

And there was lots of them.

Tammy'd go dancing with Hugo one day and motorcycling

with Juan the next.

She'd yacht with Pierre and ski with Sven.

This girl could get any guy she wanted.

Why some days there were so many fellas,

of all sizes and shapes and looks,

you'd think we were invaded by the army of the

planet Macho.

But settle down? Not yet.

So many rays to soak up, and so little time to soak.

Years passed, until one day when ole Tammy decided

it was time to walk down that aisle.

She leafed through her little black book and

settled on Spencer Stockwell.

Right height, right weight, right bank account.

Called him up, invited him over and things progressed

pretty much as planned lunching pool side pour deux.

It was just then that mousy little Agatha decided it was

time to update her exercise regime.

She slipped on a little two-piece and Cupid's arrow

of love hit the bull's eye, which in this case,

was Spencer Stockwell's heart.

Years of tracking bird specimens had preserved

her girlish figure.

Her over-protected hair shone.

And her smooth, flawless skin glowed like neon

on a foggy night.

Seems tweed beats peek-a-boo mesh

as a sun block every time.

Tammy was none too pleased.

She retreated to her boudoir for some well needed

self-reflection.

In a very large mirror.

Tammy, was far from pleased at what was staring back at her.

It was what she had long failed to recognize.

She'd grown old before her time.

Years of late nights and blazing afternoons by the

pool had taken a terrible toll.

But Tammy wasn't the kind of gal who was about to give up

without a fight.

Spencer Stockwell was the man she'd chosen and she

would not lose him to some blanchy bookworm.

Agatha's and Spencer's romance progressed quickly

but Tammy moved just as fast.

She tried Egyptian mud packs,

Dead Sea salt scrubs, electrode stimulation,

all sorts of creams and lotions.

Altogether her efforts had a quick and decisive effect.

She looked ten years older than when she started

and the wedding was next week.

All looked lost until the wizened Tammy stumbled on an

ad at the back of a beauty magazine:

Travel to the Fountain of Youth.

Instant Transformation Guaranteed.

Now, no female in her right mind would pay attention

to an ad like that.

But Tammy was not in her right mind.

She was OUT of her mind, drowning in desperation.

Tammy had just enough time to pack a bag and catch the

next plane.

She traveled to a jungle deep in the heart of South America.

And there it was.

The Fountain of Youth.

Just as she had imagined it.

In a beautiful setting of lush flora and fauna,

which Tammy had no time to appreciate.

She drank and drank and low and behold....

Tammy's furrowed brow smoothed,

her sagging skin tightened.

This Tammy could steal a playboy from her cousin with

one firm but tender tricep tied behind her back.

And there was no time to lose.

The wedding was today.

Plane to boat to bus to taxi,

Tammy raced back to the mansion,

steam-curling, cinching and crimping all the way.

As the cab rounded the last bend,

the butler closed the gates to the last limo,

the orchestra struck up the Wedding March...

Tammy's radiant new face beamed.

She'd made it.

They hadn't said, "I do", yet.

But as Tammy raced up the front lane,

the butler yelled, "Oh no you don't!"

As far as he was concerned, this lady,

whoever she was, didn't have an invitation.

Tammy's own gates slammed on her lovely young face.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Oh Tammy finally did walk down the aisle.

But was her new hubby ever shocked when he lifted

that veil.

come with a very limited guarantee.

I miss them so much, especially my mommy.

Tell you what, here comes my good deed for this year.

Let's do a tribute to your sweet old mom.

Yipee! We'll honour my mommy!

Right after this freaky story.

This is a true story.

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

Mandy was totally bland.

So she couldn't believe it when she got the invitation

to Charlene's big sleepover party.

Why Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes would even

bother, was beyond her.

Mandy figured that it must have been Charlene's spirit

of generosity.

Or a"pity-invite" or something...

Well, one thing was for certain - no good deed

ever went unpunished.

Mandy would see to that!

The party was a blast - the highlight of the social season.

Everyone was there.

They ordered tons of pizza and takeout Chinese food.

The music was blasting and the girls were doing

each other's hair.

It was way after midnight when the boy-talk fizzled

and they decided to play some games.

"Truth or Dare" - stuff like that.

That's when Mandy brought out her Ouigi Board.

It was time to talk to the spirits...

They sat around in a circle, trying to conjure up the

spirit of some teen heart-throb when Mandy

excused herself and dragged Vanessa into the bathroom.

That's where she laid out the plan.

The girls were huddled around the Ouigi board when

Mandy walked back into the room.

They were having a conversation with Elvis's ghost.

"Where's Vanessa?" asked Charlene.

"Oh, we were running low on snacks.

Vanessa went on a munchie-run",

Mandy replied as she sat down - smiling like a shark.

"Anyone mind if I give it a try?" she asked.

Now, who should we talk to?"

"Well, we were talking to Elvis..."

said Charlene.

"Oh, he's so terribly 'last Thursday', isn't he?"

sniffed Mandy.

"Why not try someone more interesting?"

And with that, the Ouigi Board's pointer started to move.

It spelled out the word "THE".

Then it pointed to the letter "H".

"You're not doing that - are you?"

asked Charlene.

"Shhhh!" hissed Mandy.

"Let's see who it is!"

The Ouigi Board spelled out the name.

"...O... ...O...

...K.

It's The Hook!" The girls screamed.

Of course everyone knew The Hook was that escaped killer

who hunted for teenagers.

And that instead of a right hand,

he had a razor sharp hook.

"Tell him to go away!" the girls squealed.

"NO! Let's see what he wants?" laughed Mandy.

And the board spelled out the rest of the message...

"...Y... ...O......U...

--I'm coming for YOU!"

The girls practically fainted.

"Send him away!!!" they screamed.

But by then it was too late.

There was a crash from above.

The girls scrambled up the stairs - someone -

or something was smashing at the front door!

Crushing blows came raining down.

The door couldn't stand up to it.

The wood began to splinter, jagged bits flying everywhere.

"To the Ouigi Board!" shouted Mandy.

She stood there laughing as the girls stampeded down the

stairs to the rec room.

It was their only chance.

Charlene and Betty grabbed the board and began to spell

out their message.

"...G...O..."

But the hammering continued.

Blow after blow!

Hit after hit!

Down in the basement, Charlene and Betty kept

working at the board.

"...A......W..."

Then the front door cracked and a glint of chrome-steel

shone through.

"IT'S THE HOOK!!!" screamed one of the girls.

Mandy bounced on her tip-toes,

clapping with glee...

Then with one crashing blow - the door fractured and the

deadly steel point of the hook smashed through -

into the room.

"...A......Y...

GO AWAY!" the girls shouted.

And then, the house was silent.

They crept up the stairs to the front door.

Splinters of wood littered the rug.

Mandy was sprawled on the floor -

laughing hysterically.

"Are you all right?"

they asked, helping her to her feet.

"The joke's on you losers!"

she laughed, pointing to the door.

There wasn't any 'Hook' - I brought the board, remember?"

That's when Vanessa came walking out of the kitchen.

"What happened?

I heard some kind of banging sound."

"Good one, 'Ness.

You really fooled them", said Mandy.

"But how'd you get from the front door back

in the kitchen so fast?

"Oh, sorry Mandy", Vanessa shrugged.

"The phone rang. I've been talking to Bobby all night."

That's when the front door swung open -

and Mandy started to scream.

Because there, hanging from the front door knob,

was a razor sharp hook.

Hey. It's a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

And Mandy?

Now, whenever she goes to sleepover parties -

all she does is sleep.

Ok, here we go, Maurice's tribute to his mom.

Professor, if you will.

Ahem, ahem.

¶ M is for the many things she gave me. ¶

¶ O is for the Ocean deep and blue. ¶

Why did the married couple go to live

in the middle of the ocean?

They wanted to set up lighthouse keeping?

It's a gift.

¶ T is for my father. ¶

T?

Oh, he hates coffee.

¶ H is for the hens down on the farm, ¶

you know the hens down on the farm aren't laying eggs?

Holding out, eh?

No, holding in.

¶ E is for elephant, a great pet. ¶

That's some pet.

¶ R is for army. ¶

Army?

You know, last night I dreamed I was in the paratroopers.

I jumped out of a plane and pulled the string.

Then what happened?

My pyjamas fell down.

¶ Put them all together they spell Mother. ¶

[crying]

Oh, Maurice, Maurice!

This here's a true story.

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

Deke.

Now Deke was mighty proud of his crew.

And he had good reason to be.

It was Tuesday July the third,

and the eyes of the world were upon them.

"They" were the Night Shift at Mission Control in

Houston and on that night -a new chapter of history

would be written.

You see, Optic One, the Space Observer Satellite had

just touched down on Europa, one of Jupiter's largest moons.

Deke and his crew; the men and women at Mission Control

were waiting on the very FIRST images to come from

the far side of the solar system.

Now you have to understand that timing was tight -

Deke had only three short chances -

only three Tuesday nights

- that Mission Control could pluck the pictures from the

satellite - or they'd be lost forever in the endless

reaches of space.

And, the fine people on Deke's crew had been working

on the "Optic One" project for nine years.

So ya understand that things were mighty tense

down there in Houston.

Everybody was on duty: There were Deke's crew,

Deke's backup crew... the Network News Crews.

Heck. Even Deke's maintenance crew were there that night.

Well, the long minutes turned to hours as they

waited for the pictures from Space to be received by the

Borneo tracking station, then relayed to Houston

via Hawaii.

Finally the big number-crunchers began

to 'chunk'.

All eyes turned to the big screen as the data

began to resolve itself.

The big picture was just about loaded when

the screen went dead.

There were yells and screams as Deke's people leapt to

their terminals.

They began checking, then re-checking the systems

and subsystems.

Everything was perfect - it shoulda been working.

It HAD to be working.

It wasn't working...

Deke barked orders.

The crew continued their inspection and de-bugging as

the precious seconds ticked away.

Finally - they realized it was too late.

The planetary window had closed for that night.

They'd have to try again, next week.

Everyone stayed by their computer terminals trying to

figure out what went wrong - until one by one,

they drifted home in the wee-small hours

of the morning.

The following Tuesday night, they were at it again

full tilta-boogie.

It was a full house - all crews on duty.

Computers were 'chunking' down the information --

and up on the big screen, the picture was loading.

Everything was going just 'tickety-boo' when all of a

sudden...the screen went dead.

There was frantic rushing and screaming and cussing.

But by the time they got the system back up and running -

it was too late.

The second window had closed again.

The big media crowd left the room.

The techs sweated through the chewing out that Deke

gave 'em - then everyone finally drifted home.

On Week Three, it was "now or never":

The last night of the cosmic window.

Over at Mission Control - the party atmosphere was

long gone.

The Techies had quadruple checked every system and

subroutine, while up in space "Optic One"

began beaming its data stream across the

quarter-billion-miles to the Borneo Tracking Station.

The tension in the control room was so thick you could

cut it with a knife.

Then the bit-stream came on-line.

The computer started 'chunking' and the

technicians didn't dare leave their terminals.

They held their breath while up on the big board,

the picture started resolving itself.

Deke was sweating bullets.

Everything was going fine until ...you guessed it.

Well, there was screaming and yelling.

They tried everything...

Then they tried it again.

But it was too late.

Nine years of hard, hard work,

gone up in smoke.

Deke's crew slowly filed out from the mighty control room.

Some of them were even crying.

They couldn't believe that the same computer glitch

had happened three weeks in a row.

Deke stood alone in the silent room.

Then he noticed that he wasn't alone.

Because in the corner of the room Anna the cleaning lady

had quietly unplugged her floor polisher and was

rolling up the cord.

Then she re-plugged the big mainframe computer

into the wall.

Her work was done so she went home.

That's when Deke remembered that Tuesday's were Anna's

cleaning day.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Oh, the men and women from Deke's Crew were assigned

to other projects.

And Anna?

They say she's still cleaning the floors down at

Mission Control, but never, ever on a Tuesday...

I've got a surprise for Maurice that's going to make

him feel real happy.

You can come in now.

Where's my little boy?

Sonny boy! Oh!

[big kiss]

Eesh, ooh. She actually kissed him.

Ew!

Ptui! Ptui!

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