Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue!

And now for something at least a little different. Sorry for those of you who wanted a Goosebumps or Are You Afraid of the Dark? recap--but those are still to come.

What do your favorite cartoon stars from the 80s do in their spare time? Why, they run around figuring out why piggy banks are stolen, try to bogart your joint, and essentially ruin your good time. In 1990, McDonald's produced Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue--basically a thirty minute long PSA starring lovable cartoon characters like the Smurfs, the Ninja Turtles, Winnie the Pooh, Garfield, the Chipmunks, and Alf. Yes...Alf. When a little girl named Cory has to deal with her brother Michael doing marijuana, it's up to the cartoons to help.

It starts as Papa Smurf sounds an alarm when Michael steals Cory's piggy bank for pot money. Uh, Papa Smurf?

Last I checked you guys were thinly veiled Communist promoters. Please. Don't tell me you're not secretly cackling at Michael's socialist spirit and his knowledge of property being theft.

A bunch of other cartoon characters come out of the woodwork from various places to try to warn Cory what's going on. They sneak after her into Michael's room when she confronts him about stealing her piggy bank, which he's smashed open for drug money. The chipmunks huddle under the bed, noticing a metal box. They wonder what's inside.

Simon says, "I hate to suggest this but my guess would be marijuana. An unlawful substance used to experience artificial highs." My guess would have been a carrying case for his diary that would later be published by one Beatrice Sparks as an anti drug screed for generations, but maybe I've been reading too much Go Ask Alice.

The cartoon characters decide to spring into action.

Later, at the video arcade, Michael smokes pot with his drug buddies. The smoke turns into what's supposed to be a creepy looking pot associated villain named Smoke (but in actuality looks like a rip off of Hexxus from Fern Gully). Bad animators!

Smoke encourages Michael to try as many new drugs as possible. The po-po's show up and Michael's friends run off.

But the cop is really just Bugs Bunny in lecture mode who yells at Michael. Michael's all, "There's nothing you can teach me that I can't learn from Mr. Hathaway," but Bugs is having none of it.

Meanwhile, back at home, Michael and Cory's parents are in the kitchen. His dad asks his mother why two beers are missing from the fridge.

She replies that he must have had them when he was watching the football game. You know, when Green Bay lost and that dumb bitch forgot to buy the right kind of hot wings sauce and you had to hurl the bottles at her. Luckily, it was just Coors Lite, so all was fine. Oops, wrong PSA!

Cory ponders telling her parents that something's wrong, but decides against it.

Back to Bugs Bunny who takes Michael in a time machine. Flashback time! Michael two years ago, pre-drugs. He runs into some skeevy looking kids and gets peer pressured into smoking pot.

Bugs Bunny asks if he'd jump off a cliff if everyone else was doing it. "Milhouse is jumping off a cliff?!" I scream. Er, yeah. Bugs Bunny gives Michael a speech on believing in yourself and how we've all got problems but some of us deal with them. Chuck Jones, you were alive for this travesty. How the hell did you let this happen?

Later, Michael smokes pot with his friends who talk about doing crack. Love that huge Blossom hat and gigantic earrings and permed blonde hair that the girl is sporting. It's like someone melded Claudia Kishi and Stacey McGill into one and made her into an animated pot smoker (does that mean she's part Dawn Schafer?). The kids ask Michael for his money to use to buy crack and he's reluctant, understandably. (That stuff's okay for catching fish, sure, but soon you need stronger and stronger bait.)

The girl and the Hexxus knock off grab Michael's wallet and run off. No! Your bar mitzvah money! What would the Rabbi Boteach say if he could see you now? Michael chases her down, and then Michelangelo intervenes by uncovering a manhole.

Michael falls into the sewer and Michelangelo lectures him on not looking where you're going. We're going to get an anti-pot lecture from the ninja turtle who talked Leonardo into going above ground at 3 A.M. last weekend to look for the lone Pizza Hut in Manhattan because, "Dude, Domino's will NOT satisfy this craving"? It's like the time Sasha Baron Cohen tried to give me a lesson on not bringing hookers and feces to Tavern on the Green.

Next! A trip through the human brain, with Piggy and Kermit. The Muppet Babies show Michael how horrid his brain looks because of drugs. Oh, please, Kermit, your brain probably looks like swiss cheese by now considering all the erotic asphyxiation Piggy's put you through by now.

Huey, Dewey and Louie show up to give their iteration of, "Drug'sre bad, mkay? If you do drugs...yer bad."

Uh, guys, isn't it about time for you to hit up your Cigar Smokers Anonymous meeting? Don't think I don't remember the time you guys bought Uncle Donald a box of cigars and he thought you were guys were experimenting and he made you smoke the whole box.

Then there's a totally gratuitous song and dance number involving all the cartoon characters. And I cringe for the voice actors. There's no worse gig than singing about saying no to drugs for Cartoon All-Stars. None. Not even if you're a phone sex operator whose customer on the line wants you to pretend to be a golden showers loving Tinky Winky.

Michael wakes up on his bed. What a trip! Cory comes into the room and asks him to tell Mom and Dad about his problems. He refuses and grabs her wrist, shoving her against the wall. "Don't ask me about my business, Cory!" Michael warns her.

She leaves. But she comes back later after Michael's left, thinking that she should take the drugs to be like her brother. Hexxus lite tempts her, and she ponders going for it.

Meanwhile, Alf takes Michael through a funhouse/amusement park. Daffy Duck as a fortune teller shows Michael his future on drugs. "It...it's me!"

This is a shot of you right before you OD. But on the plus side, your death will result in Dr. Conrad Murray going to jail, in your record sales sky rocketing, and the documentary based on your last performance being sold out everywhere.

Michael realizes the truth. He walks back to his bedroom to see Cory about to do the drugs and he screams at her to stop. If only Amy Winehouse had had a cute animated older brother.

Michael decides to stop doing the drugs and hurls Hexxus, Jr. out the window. Then it's off to confess everything to Mom and Dad and hopefully get an all expense paid trip to the Betty Ford Clinic.

Musings on the episode. Am I the only one disappointed at a lack of Captain Planet in this episode? I've got a drug induced withdrawal fever and the only cure is more "HEART!"

Also, did Michael ever get his wallet back?

Cartoon characters who were asked to participate in Cartoon All-Stars but couldn't go through with it:

Jonny Quest

Ever since Hadji turned the sahib onto the ganja, he just can't do drug specials with a straight face.

Fritz the Cat

Yeah, no R. Crumb creation could possibly do an anti drug PSA. Why was he even asked? Oh, some dumbass confused "Fritz" with "Felix" and he got an invite. (Hey, it's not as bad as the time Devil Girl got an invite to the Georgia Fathers and Daughters Purity Ball of America and didn't turn it down.)

Cookie Monster

Well, he has become more moderate with age. But the catch phrase "MARIJUANA IS A SOMETIMES DRUG!" and his exhortations that kids should smoke up only after they've done their homework just wasn't anti drug enough.

Lisa Simpson

Sure, she was a do gooder and relentlessly into socially just causes even as early as 1990. But her solution of how we should discourage kids from lighting up while still keeping marijuana plants around to use the hemp for cheap, non-sweat shop produced clothing instead of burning every pot plant, anything that looks like a pot plant, and anything that has touched a pot plant made her unpopular at the network.

Goosebumps: Ghost Beach

Siblings Jerry and Terry Sadler are visiting their elderly second cousins once removed, Brad and Agatha Sadler. We open on the kids hanging out in a graveyard. Terri's doing some etchings of grave stones when some creepy kids surprise them. Their names are Louisa and Sam Sadler. Seems almost everyone in this town is a Sadler and they're all probably related. (Ooh, edgy--Stine, are you going to pull a V.C. Andrews on me?)

Louisa's sort of cute but Sam's so ginger, he must be a soulless demon. Can that be the twist, please?

The kids look at the grave of a guy called Harrison Sadler, and Louisa and Sam try to tell the others that the ghost of Mr. Sadler haunts the beach and lives in a spooky old cave. Jerri and Terri scoff and the others leave.

Terri and Jerry have dinner with Brad and Agatha that night. They try to tell Bragatha about meeting Sam and Louisa, and ask if they're related. The pair is visibly shaken and tells the kids that if they are, it's very distantly. Brad gets up and says he's got some reading to do. "I'll help," says Agatha. Yeah, that's not suspicious at all.

While Bragatha pore over their worn copy of "Reading for Dummies," Terri and Jerry shrug. The next day, they head for the beach. Jerry wants to look for the cave when Harrison Sadler lives but Terri's having fun looking for different kinds of seaweed. You guys both need better hobbies. May I suggest collecting scabs that look like St. Francis of Assisi, learning how to say a Bar Mitzvah blessing in Klingon, and determining the third word that ends in -gry.

Jerry trips over something and screams so girlishly that I half expect Macauley Culkin to step in and invite him to Screams 101.

It is the spitting image of the plasticine dinosaur model that I made in sixth grade as part of our biology project. Except I espoused the "Don't ask me, I'm just a girl" viewpoint of science and let my lab partner, the undiagnosed autistic child who lived in a world of his own, do all the work. That's my excuse for why my model looked so crappy--what's yours, R.L.?

Jerry and Terri wonder what it is. A raccoon maybe? Or perhaps this is the original Montauk Monster. Louisa and Sam pop up out of nowhere to proclaim that it's a dog skeleton. They explain that the ghost of Harrison Sadler killed and ate it. Ghost hate dogs because they know if someone's a ghost. (R.L.? Please tell me you were on some very expensive and obscure drugs when you came with dog-eating ghosts. The scary part is he was stone cold sober.)

These ghosts must be pretty soulless. Who looks at this and sees lunch?
I see at most an appetizer.

Louisa points up to the cave and says that the ghost has lived there for hundreds of years. They have never seen him but they've seen the flickering lights and dog bones. Wouldn't a simpler solution be that a Little Korea shantytown has developed in the cave? Lights start flickering in the cave, but Terri and Jerry show skepticism that's less characteristic of Goosebumps protagonists (and more characteristic of say...Are You Afraid of the Dark? or Ghostwriter kids) by dismissing these wild stories. Louisa and Sam look disappointed.

Later that night at dinner, Bragatha try to tell them the lights in the cave were aurora borealis. "It was the middle of the day--" Jerry pipes up. But Brad is having none of this logic and reason talk and tells them not go to the cave.

That night, the kids sneak out of the house for no real reason to go to the cave. They head in and see some fake bats. ("Come on, R.L., that was the best you could do?" "We used up all our budget shooting on location on a real beach! It was either this or use my son Matt's kiddie pool." "Oh." "And we already shot Deep Trouble there!")

Then they see a creepy looking man named Harrison Sadler who scares them. He tells them they shouldn't get involved with ghosts. (Man, tell that to Demi Moore and Lydia Deitz.) Then he tells them that despite what they think, he isn't a ghost. Simple mistake. It's easy to confuse British people with dead people. (Wait--no. That's Brits and gay people.) He says that the gravestone that said Harrison Sadler was just one of his ancestors.

He explains that Louisa and Sam are ghosts. They, along with their family and a bunch of other expatriates, emigrated to the New World but died of cold and starvation. Aw, poor, dumb, pre-Oregon Trail children. Didn't even have the sense to follow in the footsteps of the Donners or those people in Alive!.

Harrison Sadler says he's safe in the cave but can't leave. He tells the children that Sam and Louisa are evil. Jerry and Terri are understandably reluctant to believe him, so Harrison tells them to go to the graveyard and that they'll find their answer there. So the kids head to the graveyard and see...

That R.L. Stine totally cribbed the gravestones from Beetlejuice! I hope Tim Burton sues.

Oh, right, the kids are dead. Meh. Are You Afraid of the Dark? already did it, Stine! Plus, since Harrison Sadler just explained that his own gravestone was there because he's named after an ancestor, isn't there a fairly plausible explanation for this?

Then Sam and Louisa pop up, inexplicably wearing matching hoodies. Terri and Jerry explain what the ghost told them. Predictably, Louisa and Sam say that the gravestones are just ancestors of theirs, and that they need to stop the ghost by sealing him up in his cave. "But he's a ghost, can't he float through?" asks Jerry. Sam tells him that the cave is some kind of sanctuary that seals up evil. Jerry, I take back what I said about your strong skepticism. You're starting to make Marcia Clark look like a take no prisoners interrogator.

"You have to attack him before he attacks you!" says Louisa. No, that's Shark Bites and it's eat them before they eat you, but nice try, honey. Louisa and Sam explain that they haven't stopped the ghost because if they fail, he'll come after them. Oh, well, okay then.

So it's up to Jerry and Terri to go after the ghost and shut him up in the cave on their own.

"Use teamwork!" Louisa tells them.

Lightning crashes and Harrison appears. He thanks Jerry and Terri for bringing the ghosts to him. Harrison whistles and a Rottweiller appears.


("He's the adopted great great grand nephew of the dog in The Omen," Stine proclaimed proudly. "Aw, that's--wait, adopted?")

The dog growls at the kids, which means they're ghosts. Because dogs always know when someone's a ghost and start flipping out. Does that mean that Cujo was basically the canine version of that Sixth Sense kid? So Harrison was right. Louisa and Sam cry that they never had a chance to live, that they died during that first winter here on the beach.

During this heartfelt monologue, I pull Stine aside. "If they're ghosts of 17th century kids, why are they dressed like they stepped off a Gap commercial shoot?" "Well, the thing with that is--" "And if they came over from England, shouldn't they have accents like Harrison? Did they take speech lessons in addition to shopping at Old Navy?" Then I bit into the Monster Blood laced brownies that R.L. baked up in his lab and fell fast asleep.

By the way, the kids suddenly inexplicably change into Crypt Keeper types ghoulies when they're revealed as ghosts, but the version I have on youtube edited that out, so we can't snark that directly.

Lightning strikes and the rocks collapse.


When the kids look up, no one's there. They look around in awe. If I know my 90s kids shows, that's the cue for one of the kids to make a cutesy wise crack. True to form, Terri pipes up with, "Next time you see me sleeping, don't wake me up." Wait, that's IT? Come on, I can do better with one brain lobe tied behind my back. How about, "Man, life's a beach!" or "Jerry, is this a happy ending or a sad ending?" "It's just an ending, okay?"

Hey, wait a minute. Harrison Sadler died, too? Even though he wasn't a ghost and was in fact more or less a good guy? Lame. This cave is so the ghost equivalent of Guantanamo Bay.

The kids head back to Bragatha's place and tell them what happened. No one seems all that shocked to learn that ghosts exist and that an innocent old hermit just died, so either the Valium and old people medicine has taken effect or those mail order correspondence courses don't cut it for acting lessons. Then there's scratching at the door and the Rottweiler enters. He starts growling and whining at Brad and Agatha. "Looks like our secret's out," says Brad. Agatha puts on her apron--turns out that on tonight's menu is dog fried dog.

Man, they are what to cute old people what Every Breath You Take is to romantic love songs. But you know what, considering that last night's fare was Mrs. Lovett's meat pies, I'm up for anything.

I could say that this episode sucked in terms of plotting, acting, and dialogue, but I won't. Instead, I'll put a positive spin on it.

Here's where it excels.

Crappy lightning effects: A
Promoting negative stereotypes of the elderly: B+
Dogs who can outact people: A+

Are You Afraid of the Dark?: The Tale of the Thirteenth Floor

There's an incredibly lame intro to this story by David, Betty Ann, and Kristen who hold flashlights under their chins and talk about about how you think you know a person, but they might really be a stranger. (Hey, beats the alternative--Betty Ann talking about how her nice neighbor ended up molesting her when she was five. Lesson there--if someone tells you that you can be the next Dora the Explorer, DON'T LISTEN.)


Betty Ann calls this story:


Billy and Karin are siblings who live on the twelfth floor of their building. They go up to the empty thirteenth floor to play because no one lives there. Today, the elevator guy, Guys, lets them up, telling them that he doesn't like them to play up there because it makes him uneasy.

The kids play hockey. Karin whines about how she's terrible at sports, probably because she's adopted. She wonders about her birth family, and Billy tells her to stop blaming her bad playing on the fact that she was adopted.

They decide to head down. When the elevator comes, Gus isn't there.

It's a guy called Leonid. Jesus, is Vice Magazine doing their photo shoot in kids' shows now? Leonid tells Billy and Karin that Gus has been called away. They decide to take the stairs instead. (Which they should have been doing anyway--they live one floor down! Grumble, grumble, obesity epidemic.)

That night, Karin sleeps while the TV in her room comes on. She wakes up and sees a guy talking to her through the TV, telling her it's time for a little visit. She thinks she's dreaming. Next day she gets a letter saying that there's a toy factory on the thirteenth floor, asking her to come up and test some toys. She can come any time the next day. She's a little reluctant, but that night she has another dream with the same guy begging her to come.

So Karin and Billy go up to the toy factory. They go inside. And it's basically the Fireworks, Candy and Puppy dog store. The kids are impressed--this place is FAO Schwartz on steroids.

Aww, I want free samples from this place even more than I did during that school trip to the veal farm!


A woman with a layered red bob and lots of eye make up introduces herself as Olga.

But I always thought you could tell someone was an alien because of said heavy eye make up and slanty eyebrows, not painfully hip hairdos--you lied, Gene Rodenberry! And, uh, oops, I did it again, I gave away the ending. Okay, I'm resigned--I am The Spoilerer. I can live with that. These people aren't pedophiles--they're aliens, Bruce Willis and Nicole Kidman were dead all along, and Hell is other people.

Olga tells Karin that it was nice of her to bring her brother but he won't be needed, and tells Billy he can leave his young sister in the company of strangers. Billy, having more sense than god gave a mule (and, apparently, Samantha Geimar's mother) insists on staying with her.

Olga introduces the kids to Raymond, the technician, who looks at her and says that he thought there was only meant to be one kid.

Olga explains that they have to deal with both the kids. So Raymond shows them both a fun game with buttons and lights and tells them to play. They both sit down and at first, Billy starts beating the crap out of his sister. But this is the nineties and it's not PC for a boy to trounce a girl at anything--unless he's a black, bespectacled dwarf who sits in a wheelchair and talks via a Stephen Hawking computer. So I expect a thrilling upset victory from Karin.

Karin starts winning and Billy congratulates her on getting the hang of it. Raymond adjusts something at the computer (we later learn he's changing the atmosphere) and Billy says he feels tired as Karin continues to win. (Oh, it's the Billie Jean King/Bobby Rigg match all over again.)

Raymond tells Karin to come with him while Billy continues practicing. Raymond straps Karin into an amusement park type chair and shows her a small ball about ten feet away. He asks her to try moving it.

To her shock, she can! Telepathy lessons. Man, if they'd had that back when Carrie White was alive, Chamberlain, Maine would still be a vibrant, buzzing town, and Stephen King would have no career.

Beween this and Alex Mack, I was so disappointed when I never got powers of my own. And I had a few Miss Trunchbull esque teachers who needed to be taken down a peg or eight.

Then Raymond takes off his face mask and presses a button and she begins to ascend in her strapped in chair. She screams in horror. And above her, she sees grey aliens reaching out for her.

Understandably unnerved, Karin uses her telepathy to push a few buttons and come down. And whatever she pressed makes Raymond freeze up. Seems that despite his technological prowess, he's not the Scotty of the group, but rather the Data. "Whatever you did to me, thanks!" she says.

Billy's still slumped over and won't wake up, so Karin tells him she'll come back with help. She runs off.

Olga comes in and switches Raymond the (dangerously un)Paranoid Android on, telling him they need to get Karin to the ship by six which is their time of departure. Olga looks at Billy and says, "Such poor specimens, these earth children," which is pretty much what Angelina Jolie says in her head each time someone asks if she'll adopt an American kid this time instead.

The aliens chase Karin all around the Fireworks, Candy, and Grey Aliens factory. She finally gets out by finding a remote control that powers Raymond the Android. Raymond and Olga try to stop her, and she points the remote at Raymond telling him to "Hold Olga." With her arm around Billy, she manages to get him to the elevator.

But Lenoid stops her, telling her she should come with them to outer space, how great space is and how you can fly like a bird and go to other worlds. But Karin tells him she won't abandon her brother and she leaves. Surprisingly, Leonid doesn't force her to go.

Finally back in Karin's room, Olga appears on the TV screen telling Karin that this was supposed to be her rescue.

Olga and Leonid are Karin's parents. They left Karin on this planet by mistake ten years ago. when they were visiting. Despite the fact that they seem to be more highly evolved than earthlings, their ability to do a headcount is fairly compromised. (Though let's face it--I think we humans and aliens alike are equally bad at that, from E.T. and his ilk to Kevin McCallister's clan.) Olga says that now it's too late and they'll have to wait another ten years before they can return for her. Billy eye rolls, asking what she's talking about and then turns to Karin, only to see...

He shrieks and runs off.

This moment creeped me out so much. And not just me. Based on blog posts, TV Tropes, and talking to people, pretty much everyone my age who saw this episode as a kid is refusing to adopt when they get older. Between this episode and The Orphan, the number of cute white girls getting adopted is going to be decimated in about ten years.

Goosebumps: How to Kill a Monster

Gretchen and Clark's parents have just gotten married and are off on their honeymoon, leaving their new stepchildren to stay with Gretchen's grandparents in the bayou during their adjustment period. Parenting at its finest. Gretchen and Clark are off to a rocky start already, too, what with their constant bickering. Hey, kids, want to truly piss off your parents? Make like Josh and Cher from Clueless and I foresee a really awesomely dysfunctional transition period. It's like I always say--incest is best.

The kids enter a house decorated in taxidermy. But no old people are to be found. Upstairs, they open a door to a closet when suddenly they're greeted by Gretchen's grandma. As she escorts them downstairs for gumbo, the camera pulls back to see...something under a sheet. Uh, Grandma, you might want to close the door.

Next scene. Gumbo.


Clark's having a hard time eating his gumbo because it's so spicy. He comments that this doesn't taste like any chicken he's ever eaten. A man in coveralls that don't quite cover all enters and tells them that it ain't chicken--it's gator!


Gretchen says hi to her grandpa who grins and says he didn't recognize his lil Gretchen. Grandpa tastes Clark's gumbo and adds more hot sauce. Heh. Then again, I can't find fault with Clark's inability to eat hot sauce. I myself choose the mildest salsa at Chipotle. Yes, Chipotle.

There's a horrible noise, and the kids ask what it is. "That was...swamp gas," grins Grandpaw. At this point, the prospect of there being no monster is a lot more frightening. Here's hoping you guys packed Depends and a shitload (so to speak) of Metamucil.

That night, Gretchen wakes up and goes to get a glass of water. She's curious about the closet, though, so she starts to open it. Grandpaw and Grandmaw appear and tell her it's just a storage closet, and she asks if she and Clark can go organize it tomorrow. (Or at the very least, make it preteen girl friendly with a lot of elbow grease and some Lisa Frank stickers.) Grandmaw tells her it's dangerous and things could fall on her.


Yeah, that's not suspicious at all. Honestly--when it comes to keeping nasty little family secrets, Grandma and Grandpaw need to take Philip Garrido's Correspondence Course.

Next day, Clark scares Gretchen by dressing up as an alligator. She freaks out and he runs off giggling. She tries to find him and then nearly falls down--turns out that the hallway is unfinished and the floorboards just end at one point. (Uh, wouldn't she have noticed this when she was DOWNSTAIRS? What kind of crazy house is this?) Gretchen turns on the light and looks around. She uncovers a white sheet and sees a monster lying there. She shrieks and hits the bulb which dangles around.


I see what you did, there, Stine. (I was about to congratulate him for having great taste by referencing Psycho--a film that I myself adore--but when I asked him his favorite character in the movie, he replied, "The one played by Vince Vaughan.")

Side note. I think it's hella odd that the monster is covered by a blanket. Does Grandpaw sneak in and tuck in lil Godzooky every night? Anyway, Gretchen backs out and sees Clark. She tries to tell him what's going on but he won't believe her and he goes inside the closet. He screams, but it's a fake out. There's nothing in there when they go in. Then the two of them go to the window, hearing something. Grandmaw and Grandpaw have driven off and left them unsupervised in a closet. Seriously, Grandmaw, have you never heard of a little thing called Flowers in the Attic? Or at the very least--R. Kelley?

Gretchen and Clark hear a noise and turn around.


They run out, locking the door, but the monster breaks through. (Why now?) Gretchen figures that they can use the ending hallway to make the monster fall and plummet to its death. They run and grab onto the railing and the monster falls.

Clark and Gretchen go downstairs, talking about how they're going to get out of here. Clark wants to go home to the city where the monsters are all human. But it turns out they're locked in. Gretchen says they'll have to go out a window or something and Clark points out there are no windows.

Then they see a letter from the grandparents. It reads that they needed to go into town on a special errand and to stay out of the storage room. Gretchen thinks that her Grandpaw must have thought he killed it when he was out hunting and brought it back...only for it to revive.

Just then, the monster appears. Turns out it was only mostly dead. Damn. Gretchen and Clark slam the door shut and put a bunch of horrifying chemicals in Grandmaw's gumbo. Then they hide and wait for the monster to eat it. It digs in as Clark sarcastically says to Gretchen that, "Great, it LIKES it." Monster likes it!

Binge, monster, binge! Binge like Blair Waldorf on some Godivas, after a wait list letter from Yale and finding out that Nate's fucking Serena again!

The monster falls over dead, and the kids head for the cellar to go out the coal shoot. Clark starts arguing that it probably won't work, and the two get into fight...and suddenly, the monster's back. Clark helps Gretchen up into the coal shoot but the monster tries to attack him. He sticks his fist down its throat and it looks floored and backs off. Okay, I turn to Stine and tell him that this is genuinely scary. But Stine just looks pissed.


"Um, you know my son Matt was on set that week. And we're STILL paying the psychiatrist bills." For a second I think he means his kid was traumatized for life until he tells me therapy started a few days later when he found his kid in the bathroom with a lot of lube, a couple of monster magazines, a how to guide entitled "Fist Your Way to Glory," and a photograph that can only be described as Goatse-illa.

Back to the episode. The monster sneezes and falls over. "Is it really dead this time?" Ah, budding skeptics. You guys will be snopes.com ready in a matter of weeks. To answer your question, yes. Yes it is. The monster explodes covering the two kids with monster goo.

Next scene, the kids have left M.C. Escher's House of Taxidermy and are strolling through the swamp. Gretchen figures out that the monster must have been allergic to Clark. The kids start apologizing for all the arguing they did earlier and decide they make a good team. Nothing like battling a monster and dealing with demented old relatives to restore family unity. (It's how Howard Hughes' two pugnacious grandkids finally settled their differences.) Clark asks Gretchen to check the letter from her grandparents to see if there's any more info. And here we have it--the twist!


According to the letter, there might be more monsters out in the swamp (presumably pissed that Grandpaw pulled an Elizabeth Smart on their monster), so don't go out after dark. All of a sudden, it gets dark and the kids look scared.

Okay, can the REAL twist be that PETA, pissed at Clark and Gretchen for killing a poor defenseless swamp sea kitten, is going to bring a class action lawsuit against them?

Goosebumps: The Girl Who Cried Monster

Before we begin, R.L. and I want to make a special announcement. This episode may be a little bit dark for some viewers. It's about a young girl who sees an older man in a position of authority over her doing something. And when she tries to tell, not even her parents believe her. It also concerns the "M" word. I'm talking of course about monsters.

Lucy Dark is obsessed with monsters. When the episode opens, she's telling her little brother a story about the toe-biter monster. She finishes by sticking her toes in the mud and then screaming that all her toes were bitten off by the toe-biter.

Randy freaks out and runs inside. Mother Dark tells her daughter not to tell silly monster stories. Besides, it's time for Lucy to go to the library for the reading program. She heads over with her best friend, Aaron. At the library, creepy old Mr. Mortman the librarian asks Lucy what book she read this week. She said she read Black Beauty and that it was boring because it should have had more monsters. (Or it should have been the kind of book you can buy on the side of the street in Harlem and featured a shirtless, glistening Seal look-alike on the cover.)

Lucy chooses Frankenstein as her next book and Mortman says that that's also a classic, like Black Beauty, and is she sure she'll like it? (I'm with Mortman--Classics aren't that scary. The most frightening reading experience I had was when I read my last Goosebumps book, The Beast from the East as a child, the twist being that I'd wasted my childhood and had nothing to show for it other than an in depth knowledge of every outfit that looked good on Claudia but terrible on everyone else.)

When Lucy and Aaron leave the library, she mentions how creepy Mortman was and how the book was dripping wet when he handed it back to her. Nasty. But at least your creepy old vaguely molestery guy works at the library and not at the pizza shop like in my hometown. Now that's-ah a soggy-ah meatball!

Lucy realizes she forgot her roller blades at the 'brary and heads back inside while Aaron leaves. She spies on Mortman and sees him feeding flies to his pet spiders. She watches him shovel flies into his mouth and then morph into a monster. She gapes.

Lucy runs home and tells her parents that the middle aged unmarried male librarian unleashed his two-eyed monster to her. They think she's making up stories. (Say what you like about girls who tell outlandish stories--if I were standing in B&N looking for memoirs about weird experiences, I'd buy Lucy Dark's book way before buying Kathryn Harrison's or Mackenzie Phillip's.)

Lucy's dad says that he had hoped this monster thing was just a phase she was going through. Lucy emos, "LIFE is just a phase I'm going through." (Hide the razor blades and the dark eyeliner, folks.) Also, the smug smile on R.L. Stine's face that had appeared when he thought he was going to get the Judy Blume Award for Understanding the Psyche of the Adolescent Girl disappears when I break out into laughter.

Later, Lucy phones her friend Aaron and tells him about her plan. She's going to take a picture of Mortman as a monster and win James Randi's money. Also, prove to her parents that she wasn't lying.

Next scene, at the library, Mortman and Lucy discuss Frankenstein. "Didn't you think that the monster was the most sympathetic character in the story?" Don't fall for it, Lucy! This is just like the time my high school English tutor asked me if I thought Humbert Humbert was the most sympathetic character in all of literary history and then slipped me a lifetime membership card to NAMBLA. "Perhaps we all have a little monster in us, Lucy," he says. Uh, no, Mortman, I don't want a little monster in me, and don't try and tell me how you'd try and rearrange the alphabet to make "U" and "I" right next to each other.

Lucy pretends to leave and then hides in the library again. She watches Mortman eat spiders this time and takes a picture of him. But he sees the flash going off and tries to find her as she hides. She runs away but he's seen her and yells for her to come back. Also, the Internet starts to blaze with indignation as every Feministing, Jezebel, and Salon.com Broadsheet commenter races to condemn Lucy for photograhing Mortman without his consent. (Sadako: "But he's a MONSTER." Average Commenter: "He got photographed without his consent! And lied about other monsters. She has nothing to be proud of. What a disgrace.")

Back at home, she locks the door. But Mortman shows up on the porch asking if he can come inside. Lucy tells him that her parents aren't home. Then she realizes what she said, and this whole segment turns into an anti strangers PSA from the early 90s. "I mean, they'll be home any minute...I mean, they're in the bathroom. Mom, is dad still cleaning his rifles?" Mortman mentions that she left her backpack at the library, and she tells him to just leave it on the doorstep. Pedo-Bear gets the message and goes.

Okay, R.L., I take back the snark--this truly will haunt my dreams, no jokes. And as for you, Mr. Mortman, sitting backwards in chairs is the way to reach out to the kids. Not smiling creepily. Now I'm going to give you to the count of ten, to get your ugly, grey, no good sweater vest off my property, before I pump your guts full of lead. See, Lucy? You have to be firm.

When her parents come home, Lucy tries to tell them about how Mortman came over to drop off her backpack. They think it's nice of him to go out of his way to do that. Yeah, and it was really nice of wacky old Arnold Friedman to give all those computer lessons to supple pubescent boys in the 80s. But Lucy really wants to get to the crime lab to get these photos developed.

So, her parents take her to the mall so they can go to the One Hour Photo. Coincidentally, Mr. Mortman is here. I bet he's here because he wants to go next door to the video store to get Monsters, Inc. and then go home and write X-rated fanfic with him as Sully and Lucy as Boo.

"Quite the little photographer, aren't you?" he asks Lucy. He looks all huffy, like a bicurious girl who went wild in Cancun confronting Joe Francis, along with her rich daddy's tax lawyer. For the record, though, the photos Lucy took show everything in the shot except Mr. Mortman. Because monsters don't show up on film.

I turn to R.L. "That's the best you could do to resolve this plot point? Monsters don't show up on film?! Besides, I seem to remember monsters photographing plenty well in the Abominable Snowman of Pasadena, book 38 of Goosebumps, and in One Day at Horrorland--" And that's when the chloroform kicked in. I admit, I push him too far at times. Okay, okay, on my list of Photography Don'ts, I'll add the monster rule, along with "Don't violate the rule of thirds," and "Out of focus shots of disembodied breasts are not great art even if they are in black and white."

Next, Lucy's parents interrupt and tell Mr. Mortman what a great librarian he is and could he come to dinner that night? He agrees.

That night, Mortman shows up. He asks what they're having for dinner and Lucy's dad says, "It's funny you should ask, but...you." Then the Darks grow fangs and there's a cutaway to what looks like a Nature program clip of rattlesnake going for a hipppo (with a grey cardigan and glasses photoshopped onto him) and when we come back, Mortman's been eaten.

The parents explain that, of course, the Darks are all monsters and that when they're older, Lucy and Randy will grow fangs of their own. So why'd they kill Mortman if he's one of them? Because there's only room in town for one set of monsters. It's the same reason Beth Ditto, Amy Winehouse, and Keith Richards rarely headline shows together.

Then there's something at the window that looks vaguely monstrous and the parents get ready to kill again. But it's just best friend Aaron wearing a rubber monster mask. They tell him dinner's over but dessert is still to come. When he asks what it is, they say, "You..." Pause. "...Like cherry pie?" Can the twist be that they're offering up the hymen of their nubile young daughter?

Are You Afraid of the Dark?: The Tale of the Midnight Ride

The Midnight Society has had to say good-bye to both David and Kristen, what with their families moving and Kristen needing to go method act by studying Alicia Silverstone's every move to prepare for her role as the smaller screen version of Cher Horowitz. So we have room for two more. Gary brings his little brother Tucker to be the newest member because his parents are making him. The rule is that each prospective member has to tell a story, and if it doesn't suck (or features a cool teen celebrity like Melissa Joan Hart or the Mowry twins), they're in. Of course, since nepotism is the rule of the day, Tucker's audition makes about as much sense as that one lone producer asking Ashlee Simpson if she knew what the key of C was (to be fair, it was his first day).

Frank, Kiki, and Betty Ann are skeptical that Tucker will do a good job but apparently they have no choice. So Tucker calls his story the Tale of the Midnight Ride. (Apologies to Mr. Longfellow.)

It takes place in Sleepy Hollow. Oh, so the twist is you're not ripping off Longfellow, but Washington Irving? Tucker tells us the story of how a Hessian soldier got his head blown off by a cannon ball and so became the Headless Horsemen. Said horseman went on to haunt Ichabod Crane. Right off the bat you know that Tucker probably spent less time writing this and more time in the library with Cliff Notes. (Hey, who can blame Tucker? This was a golden age of TV for kids and he probably wanted to watch Power Rangers that night.)

Ian, our main character, is a dorky bookish type who's really into a pretty girl named Katie. Katie's being courted by the boorish Brad but she's really not that into him. Did you get that? Ian=Ichabod, Katie=Katrina, and Brad=Brom Bones. Oh, subtlety, thy name is Tucker. (And before you can self-righteously pipe up with, "The word is homage," no, Tucker. No, it's not. For anyone who's not a pretentious bohemian art student, it's "send-up," "spoof," or "allusion," but not, for the love of god, homage.)

There's a dance at school where Brad spends a lot of time hitting on Katie but she's more interested in dancing with Ian.

After all, they came in matching his and her three corner hats. When Ian tells Brad to get lost, the two take it outside.

Oh, Ian, I didn't know it was possible, but somehow you make the Cowardly Lion look as butch as a Tom o'Finland drawing. Instad of fighting, Brad tells Ian about the Legend of Sleepy Hollow, how Ichabod Crane took the wrong path and went deeper into the woods instead of across the bridge where the horseman couldn't get him. I wonder if this will be at all relevant later. You know, since we've only been told about Ichabod Crane twice. I think the real twist would be if Rip Van Winkle turned up passed out in the bathroom and the gang had to figure out whether to call 911 and risk not going to good universities, or dump him in the river and brave what insane hooked killers may come.

Brad tells Ian that he should go try to find the headless horseman's pumpkin at the bridge to prove he's brave. (I'm pretty sure that even if this story were based on real events, said pumpkin would be a rotting mess by now.) It's either that or a fight. So Ian goes.

At the bridge, he turns around and sees a headless fellow. Don't get too excited. We're less than halfway in, and if R.L. Stine and Caroline B. Cooney have taught me anything, you always reserve the real scares for three quarters through.

It's Brad in a headless get up. He's also surrounded by everyone who was at the dance who presumably came to laugh at him. Katie's there, too. If she knew what Brad was up to, why didn't she warn Ian?

Brad snaps his fingers and assumes Katie will come with him, but she stays with Ian and asks him to walk her home. He tells her it's the one thing that would make this night worthwhile and extends his elbow to her saying, "Take thee my muddy arm." (Please, please, please, don't ask her to grant you her dainty hoof in marriage, Ian, and we'll be cool.) As they head off, we pull back to see...

He's the real headless horseman. If the fact that he's on a horse didn't clue you in, the swirling fog and ominous music let you know for sure.

Then the two run into a guy in whiteface on a horse who tells them his name is Ichabod Crane and he's the new schoolmaster. Ichabod-ghost simpers, "I'm afraid I have lost my way in these wretched woods. Would you be so kind as to direct me to the bridge of souls?"

They tell him to take the left path in the fork in the road to get to the bridge. "Lucky thing," he responds, "I surely would have taken the right!"

(Note to whoever's playing Ichabod Crane. There's a difference between playing a role gay and playing it old-fashioned. And an even subtler distinction between gay and British but I guess the Joey Tribbiani School of Soap Opera Acting didn't cover that unit yet. I bet it was lessons like this that explain why he went on to such meaty roles as the voice of Mr. Ratburn on PBS's Arthur.)

Ian walks Katie home and then heads back to get his bike at the school. He realizes he forgot his key in his jacket and can't unlock the bike. Katie shows up with the jacket and key in hand. He says, "Come on, I'll ride you home." (Um, Ian? It's 1994--chivalry is dead and Ani DiFranco just did a tap dance on its grave. And also...ew.)

In the distance they see a shadow of the headless horseman. This time, he's actually on a horse and he's got a pumpkin for a head.

They eye roll, thinking it's Brad but they soon realize it's not...when the shadow comes out of the wall and materializes.

The kids run, realizing that their only hope is to get to the bridge because the horseman can't cross. They wonder what the horseman is doing. Shouldn't he be off terrorizing Ichabod Crane? But they realize that they messed up the story when they told Ichabod to take the left path, and now the horseman is after them.

Ian tells Katie the horseman can't get them both so they should split up. He proposes to distract the horseman while Katie runs for the bridge. But because this is the nineties and Katie has been reared on a steady diet of "Take Your Daughter to Work Day," American Girl dolls, Title IX, and RiotGrrl, she immediately says that she will distract the horseman. She runs off and Ian starts for the bridge. But Katie falls flat on her face and girls everywhere put down the Sleater Kinney CDs, burn the zines, and head to Victoria Secret for push-up bras.

Ian turns and runs for the bridge while Katie encourages him. The horseman chases Ian (passing up an incapacitated teenage girl? Well, I guess we know that's not the ghost of William Kennedy Smith running around) but disappears in flames as it tries to cross the bridge.

Why a fiery mass? Well, the FX crew really wanted to try out that insta-flame effect. Don't laugh. Back in Canada in '94, this was a big deal.

Katie makes sure Ian's okay. He's hanging from the edge of the bridge and he pops up saying, "And I thought this place was boring!" Zany understatements. Is there any kind of traumatic experience that they can't smooth over?

Ichabod Crane shows up again to scold the kids about staying out too late. (And not to yell at them for stealing his signature look?) They ask him what he's doing here, and he said he thinks he lost his way and should go back to the fork in the road and take the other way to set things straight. Gotta love literary characters who are resigned to their fates. Though I have to ask--how can you see the ghost of a fictional character?

I also have to smack Tucker with a copy of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow because if we're to believe this is a send-up of the original story, it makes zero sense. In the original, there was no actual ghost. Brom Bones (dressed as the headless horseman) was the one who got Ichabod. And no, Tucker, you don't have the excuse of, "But the movie said--" because that particular love note of Tim Burton to Johnny Depp doesn't come out for another four years.

Tucker finishes and looks around to see if he's in. Kiki's reaction: "That'll do, pig, that'll do." Betty Ann smiles warmly and tells him how awesome it was, and Frank, playing the Simon to Betty Ann's Paula, just warns Gary to keep Tucker out of his face. I'm with you, Frank, I haven't seen such desperate courting of the 7-10 demographic since the Planeteers took on that damned "Heart!" kid and his simian pal. Gary high fives Tucker and then as he puts out the fire, says to himself that he hopes he doesn't regret this, in the same tone of voice as Aaron Spelling when he finally decided to let Donna Martin pop her cherry.

Goosebumps: It Came From Beneath the Sink

This weekend, R.L. Stine refused to return my calls or answer my e-mails. I guess I was a little hard on him when I snarked the Haunted Mask. How was I supposed to know it's considered the jewel in his crown? It wasn't until I twittered that I was spending the night reading Goosebumps books and crying that he agreed to come over and help me out with this next episode. (I also had to buy him some mole glitter and tell him that it's a shame that M. Night's lawyers never gave him anything more than some jujubes and a free Haley Joel Osment plastic mask in the settlement where he alleged that The Sixth Sense directly ripped off The Ghost Next Door.)

And I'm glad he came back because this episode stars Katharine Isabelle, one of Canada's leading ladies (yeah, I know, contradiction in terms), and the star of the Ginger Snaps trilogy.

Kat and her family have moved to a new house in their same town. Their dog Killer starts freaking out because of something under the sink. So Kat investigates. Upon seeing some glowing red eyes, she assumes, "Aw, kitty" and reaches in. You know, during our cave unit of fourth grade science class, the first thing I learned was not to just reach into a dark space without making sure I knew what I was looking for. (In my defense, how was I supposed to know that Mrs. McCormack wasn't really a Mrs. yet and that she got her jollies that way?)

Anyway, Kat reacts much the same way I did when she sees what it is. Yech.

The rest of the family thinks it's just an ordinary sponge. (Well, except Killer.) You know, call me crazy but I thought that sponges were square and came in bright soothing pastels, usually yellow. ("Oh, please," sneers R.L., "that unrealistic, unattainable image for sponges?" Yeah, turns out that SpongeBob is to real sponges as Kate Moss is to girls with love handles and a penchant for eating Taco Bell.)

A series of terrible things start happening. And by terrible, I mean Kat's dad breaks the family china and Kat sees the sponge and then drops a glass in the bathroom that her little brother steps on. (This was the lead-in for the sequel, The Tetanus Shot of Doom.) After Kat tries to explain how it's the sponge's fault, her mom screams at her.

Kat's mom, this is why you take a page from Kate Gosselin--don't allow your children water when they're being whiny and make sure your husband is only entrusted with soft, unbreakable things, like his spine and that deformed sextuplet.

The next day, Kat comes downstairs. Her brother teases her with, "Look out, paper towel with eyes!" (R.L. leaps up in excitement with his pen and yellow idea pad in hand till I remind him that he pitched that one to Scholastic as his first Fear Street book and they 86ed it.) Then it turns out that Killer is missing.

Kat goes out on her bike looking for Killer when her brakes fail and she gets into a crash. She comes home and Daniel and his friend, Carlos, ask about Killer. She couldn't find him. Kat thinks it's the sponge's fault. She suddenly leaps up as she sees it under the bike helmet. It glows, and the other two finally believe her.

Kat decides to get rid of it by burying it. Carlos tells her they should keep and study it, but Kat is having none of that. As it pulsates, she drops it.

I just have one question. A black kid named Carlos? Were you originally trying to fill your non-white quotient with a Hispanic kid but then forgot to change his name when you cast an African American child?

The next day, the lawn is in shambles.

Somewhere, Hank Hill dies a little inside.

Kat and Daniel dig up the sponge. Kat takes the sponge to school and asks her science teacher Ms. Vanderhoff about it.

"Garden variety kitchen sponge by the look of it," says the science teacher. Okay...Really? Really?

All right. Is this the same science teacher I had in third grade who took off points when I brought in a diorama of plastic dinosaurs romping because Apatosaur lived during the Jurassic period and Triceratops lived during the Cretaceous, but gave me some extra credit due to the fact that they were all giving rides to my tiny Fisher Price kids? Damn that year we spent in Kansas.

Ms. Vanderhoff says it seems like a normal sponge to her but that she'll take a closer look at it later. Ms. V? Wearing a pair of thick tortoiseshells isn't going to make you a great intellect any more than said glasses made Tina Fey look like a nerdy bookish type.

Kat leaves the sponge with her teacher and heads home.

At home, Carlos is reading Encyclopedia of the Weird. "Does it have her picture in it?" Daniel jokes, gesturing at Kat.

Carlos says that according to this book, the sponge is a grool, a creature that causes bad luck wherever it goes. It also feeds on bad luck, getting stronger the worse things become. Carlos clumsily foreshadows that it's a good thing that they didn't find a lanx, which is a vampiric potato.

Carlos also tells them that if the owner gives away the grool, then the owner will die. Kat realizes that she left the grool with her teacher. The kids head over to the school.

Open on a janitor listening to headphones and singing "You Are My Sunshine," as he cleans. The kids sneak into the science classroom but can't find the grool. They hide as the janitor comes in and turns on the light, revealing that the grool is sitting on a table.

The janitor finds the grool and starts using it to wipe down the counters.

The fuck? Does everyone think that's what kitchen sponges really look like? Ether Typhoid Mary runs a cleaning agency that this guy works for, or this episode and the book it was based on were commissioned by some angry sponges who wanted to do for the sponge image what Dove Real Beauty did for women with cellulite.

The lights suddenly go out and the janitor heads over to the circuit breaker when he bumps his head and passes out. The grool starts making noises and the kids try to find it in the dark. Kat sees a sign that says, "Danger: ACID." She climbs up on a stool and the grool surprises her. She falls, knocking over the acid, and the goggles, zey do nussing! The grool grows happily. The kids want to escape but the door is barred for no apparent reason. (Whoever gets to edit the goofs page on this episode's IMDb listing is going to have a long night.)

The kids decide to go out the window. They figure they'll have to carry out the still unconscious janitor, but as soon as they grab him, tape player falls down. The grool hears the awful corny music and starts to shrink. The kids realize that the music is pissing off the grool.

"The grool loves bad so it must hate good!" says Kat. So I have the grool to blame for drunken karaoke singers who think that Don't Stop Believing is their signature hit.

Daniel turns up the music but the tape player dies and the kids freak out until they realize they can just make up crap on their own (which is what Kiss said when their hair and make-up artist quit and how Peter Chris's kittykat persona was born). The kids tell the grool how awesome it is, and it shrinks. But then the acid starts making weird noises, until the janitor inexplicably wakes up and sprays it (with a fire extinguisher, pervs). Between all the spraying foam and the horrid music, I'm starting to get a flashback to the time my mom made me take my little cousin to a Jonas Brothers concert and a condom fell out of my back pocket and I had to spend the entire rest of the night being lectured to and trying on abstinence rings.

We cut to Kat's room the next day. She wakes up and puts a gigantic set of headphones on the grool's cage and tells him to enjoy as the sounds of Goosebumps music start to play.

The grool writhes in pain like a hipster forced to listen to a band that Pitchfork just wrote about and that now has a following of more than eight people.

Kat looks out the window and sees that the dog, Killer, has come back. The whole family welcomes back Killer (except Horshach who just does his trademark laugh). The family leaves and Killer drops something in Kat's lap. Kat asks what the dog brought her.

Aw, a dog who can bring me my favorite non-green vegetable! All right. (In other news, Dr. Atkins was once up on animal cruelty charges for beating his dog to death with a potato. His defense? Well, come on, the mutt brought him a complex carbohydrate. True story.)

The potato scowls and Kat screams.

You're probably laughing but this scene right here was the inspiration for the entire movie Teeth. (Well, a combination of that and the time that Mitchell Lichtenstein's girlfriend went down on him without taking out her retainer.) I'd also like to say that this is how this is how R.L. remembers the sexual encounter between him and the Missus that resulted in their son, Matt, being conceived, but I can't. No, not because I promised R.L. I'd cut back on those jokes, but because their kid was created in a lab somewhere. The closest they've got together physically is that time R.L. IMed his sweetheart with "*holding hands*"