is a Jack O'Lantern of a book. An anthology of horror fact and fiction, newly stuffed after a night of trick-or-treating with film critiques, short stories, haunted house reports, punditry, a screenplay, and an interview with
actor Jonathan Frid. Writings dark and serious and whimsical, and all else that is horror.
This horror anthology book also contains my horror anthology screenplay . . . Halloween Candy. A screenplay that was honored with an American Film Institute reading (moderated by Robert Wise--The Haunting), was thrice-optioned, and at one point was set to be directed by Tom Savini. This book contains both the screenplay and a recounting of "the making of Halloween Candy." Or rather, how the film almost got made . . . again and again and again. A behind-the-scenes look into the world of low-budget horror filmmaking.
Thomas M. Sipos was born in Queens, NY, to Hungarian refugees from Communism. He attended Catholic schools, and graduated from NYU's film school. His childhood visits to family in Communist Transylvania served to inspire his horror/black comedy novel, Vampire Nation, a Prometheus Award nominee.
Sipos's fiction has appeared in Wicked Mystic, 100 Wicked Little Witch Stories, and Horrors! 365 Scary Stories; his nonfiction in The Journal of Horror Cinema, Tangent, Horror, Midnight Marquee, Horrorfind.com, GreenTentacles.com, Liberty, Filmfax, and Sci-Fi Universe. Some of it is reprinted in this volume.
Sipos belongs to the Horror Writers Association, the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, the National Writers Union, the Libertarian Futurist Society, and the Academy of Science Fiction, Fantasy & Horror Films. He lives in Los Angeles, where his sitcom and horror scripts (including Halloween Candy) have won awards.
EXT. PEABODY HOUSE - DAY
A suburban street in present-day New England. Trim lawns colored with autumn leaves. Halloween in the air.
Only one house is rundown, paint peeling. Freshly splattered with broken eggs. A rock sails through the air, shattering a window.
CHILDREN: Witch! Witch! Witch!
MRS. PEABODY, a shrewish fiftysomething, peers through the broken window. Four CHILDREN on her lawn, hiding behind bushes: ARTHUR, MEGAN, WOLF, JACKIE, all third-graders. No costumes.
MRS. PEABODY: You brats get off my lawn!
CHILDREN: Burn witch, burn! Burn witch, burn!
MRS. PEABODY exits the house, wielding a broom. The CHILDREN run away, squealing.
CHILDREN: Burn witch, burn! Burn witch, burn!
The CHILDREN race down the sidewalk, crashing into SARAH, a perky young woman with short blond hair, carrying a wicker basket.
SARAH: Whoa! What's the big hurry?
ARTHUR: We're gonna burn the witch!
MEGAN: Yeah, make her suffer!
SARAH: Oh dear. Where's your Halloween spirit? You should be dressing as young witches and warlocks. They're spooky, but not evil.
ARTHUR: No kidding. Witches are wimps. I wanna Charles Manson costume. Rack up a real body count.
SARAH: Oh dear.
WOLF: Witches are boring. I'd rather dress like Marilyn Manson.
SARAH: Rather than a warlock?
MEGAN: Witches are old. I hate old people. I hate generation X.
SARAH: Generation X is old?
JACKIE: Witches are ugly.
SARAH: I'm old?
JACKIE: Like ugly old Mrs. Peabody.
CHILDREN: Yeah, we hate Mrs. Peabody!
SARAH: Children, children. Age brings wisdom. Witch means wise woman. I can't wait to grow old.
MEGAN: Who says you have to wait?
SARAH: Furthermore, most witches are pretty. Even sexy. Only bad witches are ugly.
ARTHUR: Like ugly old Mrs. Peabody!
CHILDREN: Yeah, burn her! Burn her!
SARAH: No, no, children. You mustn't even burn leaves. Pollution makes our planet very sad.
SARAH removes a textbook from her basket, skimming . . .
SARAH: In fact, those of you planning a career in gender studies will be fascinated to learn that Wicca, the religion of witches, is actually an ancient form of nature worship, mischaracterized by Western industrial patriarchy--
WOLF: Witch!
The CHILDREN pummel SARAH with eggs.
CHILDREN: Burn witch, burn! Burn witch, burn! Burn witch, burn!
The CHILDREN run away, screams fading with the rustling leaves.
Smiling wryly, SARAH wipes herself with a handkerchief as she approaches MRS. PEABODY's house.
MRS. PEABODY sees SARAH's clothes, then indicates her house.
MRS. PEABODY: Trick or treat. Cute name for legalized extortion.
SARAH: Oh dear. That's certainly not the Halloween spirit.
MRS. PEABODY: Little monsters still remember last year. I never give treats.
SARAH: In olden days, only dead spirits were entitled to treats.
MRS. PEABODY: I'm all for traditional values. Do you suggest poisoned apples or razor blades?
SARAH: Now, Mrs. Peabody. We both know you could never do anything like that. They're only children.
MRS. PEABODY: So was Billy The Kid. I wish I was a witch. They'd be sorry.
SARAH: Well, I've got Halloween shopping.
MRS. PEABODY: For a pack of ungrateful brats, no doubt.
SARAH departs with a friendly smile.
INT. SUPERMARKET - DAY
Aisles of Halloween decorations and merchandise. SARAH pushes a shopping cart through crowds of shoppers. She reaches for a bag of candy corn and does not see TRUDY (age 6) sneak up and steal the wicker basket from Sarah's cart.
Turning, SARAH is surprised to find the basket gone. She searches and finds it poorly hidden on a shelf. TRUDY giggles from a hiding spot. SARAH pretends not to notice and returns the basket to her cart.
But when SARAH turns around, TRUDY steals it again.
As TRUDY is hiding it, SARAH creeps up and seizes the basket from TRUDY. TRUDY nervously eyes SARAH. Smil
