The Celluloid Psychosis: "Scream." Over the hills and through the woods: I scream, you scream, we all scream for Turtle Wax cream.

Sydney Prescott: you dog dick.

They thought, the film nerd murderers, that deflowering her would make her vulnerable to a horror film offing.  Which I thought, too, and that was the tease, a bit of Jeopardy, a bit of tension, a bit of possibility, and to boot, the killer had deflowered her, while the other killer was getting high watching Halloween in his own living room.

Played expectations, did Craven, which made the film somewhat about the rest of the genre, in many respects, I liked the post-modernist sense given to the "rules of the genre" and so forth, but no situational comedy, like Friday the 13th, or the mythic quality of Halloween.

While the rest of them, well, got offed by somebody, and for the sake of "the suspension of disbelief" and "movie magic", these facts make it a surprise when the real killers are revealed.

Problem was, one of the killers did the deflowering, perhaps, or the film relied on movie dictates, a loose matrix of things, observances, taken by them as rules.

I was on about Halloween 2, however acknowledging the first film as superior.

The BFF was on about Halloween 3: Season of the Witch, which he hated enough for it really to make him just completely hysterically derisive.

So I was watching, "I know what you did while the other guy was watching Halloween" and I said, well, you know, as Chop Top said, Dog Will Hunt, and all, and in the offing, we all have a time and circumstance set somewhere.  As for myself, I think they predicted 2033.  Either that or age 33, that I dodged something back then.  I don't know, either way, and shouldn't know; like a good artist, there is helpful influence, but then there is a such thing as contamination by one's contemporaries.

Such as when they caught that case about the serial rapist.  He had taken a bunch of used condoms--long story short, they outwitted him in interrogation, did they, cyphering through little latent thumbprints to find something of a cryptogenic thing, a novel thing, a "unique": to wit, one that pinged the database.

The story about Halloween 2 was that there were no copies around town at the several of video stores.  One store would by accident, put the empty box on the shelf from time-to-time, and week-in, week-out, I would glance for that box, and sometimes see it, and happily go the desk only to be disappointed.

In the hinterlands, the outer rust belt, there was one copy at a small, seldom-used rental shop.

But there was.

A catch.

The tape was broken, for whatever reason.  And myself, on a Friday night, completely full of nerdy energy to watch this turkey--and I just had to see the thing--I took a small kitchen drawer screwdriver, a steak knife, and scotch tape, and repaired the tape, while also removing a gear inside the thing that would hold the reels, because it was fubar, too.

Something like: "Screams" or "Scream, Virgin, Scream", or Scream Virgin, But Dare Not Love".