Tales from the Darkside

Man lives in the sunlit world

of what he believes to be reality.

But... there is,

unseen by most, an underworld.

A place that is just as real

but not as brightly lit.

A dark side.

(''We Wish You a Merry Christmas'' playing)

(melody fades into haunting counterpoint melody)

Well, house like this,

you've got to expect the foundation to settle a bit.

Just going to have to do something

about that one of these days.

(continues humming, then stops abruptly)

Oh, dear.

What a mess.

Must be those damn raccoons again, huh?

l'm going to have to put a screen on top of that chimney.

Really going to have to shore up the foundations.

Oh, well.

Que será será.

Damn.

Boiled fish again.

Well... have to replace that thermostat, that's all.

Well, if it isn't one thing, it's another, hmm?

Oh, that's convenient!

l've been meaning to rearrange these books, anyway.

Let's see.

How should l rearrange them?

By author?

No.

By title, hmm?

Maybe by color, huh?

No.

Amanda.

Oh...!

Damn.

Dad!

Merry Christmas.

Amanda, you're supposed to be

spending Christmas with your mother.

What's the matter?

Aren't you glad to see me?

Oh, yeah, yeah, yes. Of course. Delighted.

-lt's just that... -Just what?

lt's just that l'm surprised to see you-- that's all.

Look, l've been having a difficult time lately.

Everything is so... unpredictable.

Well, l couldn't stand the idea

of you spending Christmas all alone.

Well, l'm not really alone.

l mean, l-l mean, l don't mind really being alone.

l was beginning to think you didn't want me here.

Oh, honey, don't.

Don't ever say that.

So, smile.

You're allowed to smile.

Where's your Christmas spirit?

l did buy a turkey.

And l got the tree out, and l decorated it.

You did the tree all by yourself?

l got to see it.

Amanda! Amanda!

God, what happened?

Oh, oh, that?

Well, you know me.

You know how clumsy l am.

l'm always knocking something over.

This isn't like you at all.

Well, it was just a couple of accidents--

nothing to really worry about.

Dad!

lt's okay. lt's okay, baby.

lt's just the foundation settling-- that's all.

Dad, there's something seriously wrong here.

No.

No, l don't think so.

Listen, l got an idea.

Why don't l make you a nice cup of hot chocolate, huh?

Nothing cheerful as a cup of hot chocolate, is there?

Come on.

Come.

: Come on.

-What was that? -What was that?

l told you-- it's nothing.

lt's just the house settling-- that's all.

No, no, it... it sounded like some animal.

Look.

l told you.

Oh, oh, those.

Those are old marks, honey.

Ah, come on.

Let's have that cup of hot chocolate,

and then we'll stuff the turkey.

Hey, l've got something that l was going to...

l was going to deliver it over to your mother's house.

: Dad.

Go on, open it.

lt's Christmas Eve-- or it will be soon.

Dad, they're beautiful.

They're not real, but the jeweler says... (clicks tongue)

''Only an expert can tell the difference.''

Oh.

Dad, l love you!

(carolers singing ''Angels We Have Heard on High'' outside)

Hey, it's the carolers from St. Anne's.

lt wouldn't be Christmas without them, huh?

-(Amanda chuckling) -Come on.

Let's go to the front door and sing with them.

-Come on. -(chuckling): Okay.

Make them stop! l'm losing my mind!

Lord Beelzebub, help me!

Hear my plea!

Beelzebub!

My Lord, you heard me.

We hear all suffering in the depths, demon.

Every sigh.

Every tear.

Every complaint.

That's what makes it Hell.

l'm honored beyond all demons.

Don't be.

l just came up here to shut you up.

All Hell is murky with the echo of your yattering.

But my Lord, this... this man, he's... he's some kind of saint.

l'll never snatch his soul.

He's not a saint.

He's a pickle salesman.

But he'll break, like all the rest.

First, he'll admit the presence of evil.

And then he'll lose faith in the existence of good.

And next, he'll start to question his fate

and ask, ''Why me?''

And finally, he'll curse God.

And then... he's mine.

-(thunder crashing) -Not this one.

l've tried everything.

l sent such lustful dreams to his wife,

till one day he walked in on her and his best friend.

-(carolers hum ''Silent Night'') -And what did he do?

He said, ''Que será será.''

ltalian.

A charm against disappointment.

''What will be, will be.''

Then l put his cat in the microwave.

My masterpiece.

Fur and cat brains all over the kitchen walls.

You must try harder.

Let me touch him, just once.

Please.

No.

There are rules, demon.

Even for us.

A fingernail in the eye.

Did you learn nothing at the academy?

Read it, Yattering.

(carolers continue humming ''Silent Night'')

''Treaty of Job. 6522 B.C.

''Rule one-- 'Thou shalt not touch.'''

And the penalty, name it.

''To become a slave.''

Exactly so.

You have your instructions.

Break his pathetic human heart.

Crush his sanity.

Drive him to suicide any way you can.

But don't touch.

lt's impossible.

Do it, or suffer eternally in his place.

Oh, no. Not that.

Please, it's not fair.

Don't fail.

Eternity is a long, long, long...

long time.