Deadtime Stories

Get in that bed!

It's too dark, I can't sleep.

Brian, do you know what time it is?

But there's a monster in here and he wants to get me.

If you don't lie down right now I'm gonna getcha!

Come on there.

Uncle Mike?

Sometimes mommy tells me a story, will you tell me one?

No, not right now, Brian.

I hafta press the cat and vacuum the ceiling.

Maybe later.

Oh please, just one?

Brian.

Please?

All right, any story in particular?

Three little pigs?

Jack and the beanstalk?

I don't care.

Um, puss in boots?

Rumpelstiltskin?

Whatever.

Princess and the pea?

Ugly duckling?

Sleeping beauty?

If you like.

Brian, what story?

Hmm, why don't you make one up?

Alright.

J1 the three little pigs

j1 were blown out of their digs

x3 and their houses and huts were despoiled

a1 the wolf huffed and puffed

j1 'til the pigs cried enough

ii how can this wicked monster be foiled

j1 two piggies were eaten

d before he was beaten

41 down the chimney the wolf was hard boiled

j1 it's no wonder why

i3 I turned out like I did

ii remembering my bedtime tales as a kid

j1 it's no wonder why

i3 I turned out like I did

ii remembering my bedtime tales as a kid

j1 a boy strong and proud

j1 climbed way up to the clouds

41 on a product of magic bean spillage

d brave and defiant

j1 he swindled the giant

41 whose wealth came from plundering village

a1 then he picked up an axe

41 gave the beanstalk some whacks

d dumped the giant on most of the village

j1 it's no wonder why

i3 I turned out like I did

ii remembering my bedtime tales as a kid

j1 it's no wonder why

i3 I turned out like I did

ii remembering my bedtime tales as a kid

a1 in the cloak of the night

j1 I wake with a fright

j1 got a blanket over my head

j1 you can say I'm insane

j1 but it's stuck in my brain

h rumpelstiltskin's under my bed

d some call it obscene

i1 but the violence on screen

41 vents the internal turmoil of drama

j1 those buckets of Gore

a1 were spilled ages before

ii George romero, Hitchcock or de palma

i3 and our fears and our stress

j1 throughout time's been expressed

d through the fairytale symbolic drama

j1 it's no wonder why

d we turned out like we did

a1 remembering our bedtime tales as kids

j1 it's no wonder why

d we turned out like we did

a1 remembering our bedtime tales as kids

j1 it's no wonder why

d we turned out like we did

a1 remembering our bedtime tales as kids

j1 it's no wonder why

d we turned out like we did

a1 remembering our bedtime tales as kids

um, once upon a time, a long, long time ago.

There was a Fisherman's son named Peter.

He was all alone in the world.

So it came to pass, since he had no money,

he sold into slavery.

Bought by two evil witches.

So then, one day...

Good?

You bet it is!

Does my heart good to see a handsome lad

enjoy my cooking.

The secret is baby slugs.

The big ones are too chewy!

You have to wait for the really rainy days.

But you are worth it.

You're making me sick!

!-

there's work to be done.

You go to the village, find the local parson.

If I'm not wrong he fancies himself.

Thinks he's quite a ladies' man.

Are you listening to me, boy?

Tell him you know two lovely ladies

who are just dying to meet him.

And you lead him here.

What lovely ladies?

Never you mind.

Make sure he has a sip of that.

Leave the rest to me.

You wouldn't be tricking me now, would you boy?

They are beautiful? Hmm?

Aye. That they are.

They got all their teeth?

Can't kiss a tart with rotten teeth, you know.

I would suppose.

Are they, are they sassy?

You know...

Sassy!

Sassy.

Boy, what'd you say your name was again?

Peter.

Do I see you in my church?

They're almost here.

Well, get ready.

It's alright, boy.

I can find my way.

Where's my sassy?

Grand!

I bet you ladies have never

had such a prominent man as I, huh?

Mmmmm.

You little vixens!

It's a bit of bondage, eh?

Oh yeah.

Has the lad told 'ya

that I have the largest parsonage in the district?

And my flock of Norman.

They pray to me, you know.

So that's what you're up to.

And squeak!

What is this stuff anyway?

It's gettin'...

Get this stuff off of me!

Here we are.

Take the divine left hand from a holy man.

The one that mirrors his heart.

Well ain't nothin' holy about that one.

Shhhh!

Pay attention.

Brain of a black cat, heart of an eel.

Grind them together until they congeal.

Brain of a black cat, brain of a black cat.

Black cat, heart.

What was it?

Heart of a weasel?

No no fat 0l' fool, an eel, an eel!

I'm not fat!

You're not fat.

Eel.

Eel?

No eel!

Here we are!

Now grind them together and...

I know, I know!

There, that looks pretty congealed!

Now pour in a vial of hemlock and ale.

And top it all off with a black piggie's tale.

Oh how sweet.

Now, my friend,

guide us true.

Where's our sister?

Where's magoga?

West?

The paupers' field.

Peter, come along!

Stop playin' with the nice man.

What have I told you about talkin' to strangers?

Is this it?

Did we find her?

Shhh!

Quiet!

Quiet!

What is it, hanagohl?

She's here.

She's here!

Get out the way!

Do you mind?

Where is she?

Magoga.

What have they done to you?

Why did you wait so long

to dig your sister magoga up anyway?

This one asks too many questions.

Ahh there's no harm.

You see, Peter, the spell to bring her back