(theme music playing)
NARRATOR: 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.
(wind whistling)
(door creaking)
(lock clicks)
(door creaking)
He-Hey! Hey, sport, catch.
Ernie!
(man groans)
Ah, gosh, I'm sorry, sport.
I thought you were gonna catch it, for crying out loud.
So what are you doing in here, anyway, huh?
Nothing.
Well, come on. Then let's do something.
Let's toss this old foosball around. Come on. A man's sport.
Come on. Come on.
No, thanks.
Hey, don't be a wussy, kid. It was an accident.
Hey, hey, where do you think you're going, huh?
Come on, hey.
Come on. Clean up this mess,
will you, for crying out loud?
You should mind your grownups, son.
On the other hand,
I don't know if that's good or not.
Oop! Oh, Timmy,
is that Ernie, the creepy potato bug?
What happened?
I dropped him.
I'm sorry. He was pretty neat,
even if he was kind of gross.
You think he'll go to heaven?
Oh, Timmy, I know he'll go to heaven.
Listen, I want you to wash up real careful.
I don't want any glass in your hand.
Okay.
Oh...
Biff, why don't you take out the garbage for me?
Don't worry, honey. Ernie's gone to bug heaven.
(playing arpeggio)
(turns on radio)
Hey, kid, it's the playoffs.
Chargers and the Broncos.
What do you say we check this thing out, huh?
Okay.
Hey, that a boy! All right!
Maybe next year you know what we'll do?
We'll go to San Diego and get some tickets
and go see one of them games, all right?
Come on. Come on over here.
Come on. Listen to this thing with your old stepdad.
I'm gonna make a man out of you yet, pal.
(chuckles)
I don't get to see you that much,
you know, my being on that boat all the time, so...
I'm sorry. I have a lot of homework to do.
What, homework in the third grade?
Geez! Hey!
(door creaking)
(lock clicks)
BIFF (in next room): You're too soft on him!
MOTHER: He's a sensitive boy!
And he doesn't need you
leading him down some macho road!
You're damn straight he does.
You cannot waltz in here twice a year
and expect the boy to look up to you.
That's how I make my money!
You got something against eating, huh?!
Dear God, please take away all the disease, pain
and poverty and suffering and starvation in the world.
And God bless Nana, Aunt Teresa, Mr. Abrizzio, Miss Smith,
Mommy and I guess my stepdad Biff.
(toy squeaks)
And please tell Santa if he didn't already get my letter,
I really want that Cuddlestuff Panda for Christmas
more than anything.
(toy squeaks)
(door creaking)
(low growling)
(door creaking)
(footfalls)
(door creaking)
MOTHER You all set?
Uh-huh.
Did you have a good day?
I miss Ernie.
Oh, poor Ernie.
Biff doesn't like me that much, does he?
Sure he does. He loves you.
It's just that he...
he doesn't really understand kids, that's all.
I tell him to be patient with you,
but the truth is, you have to be patient with him, okay?
Okay.
(sighs)
¶ Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee ¶
¶ All through the night ¶
¶ Guardian angels, God will send thee ¶
¶ All through the night ¶
¶ Soft the drowsy hours are creeping ¶
¶ Hill and vale and slumber steeping ¶
¶ By my loving vigil keeping ¶
¶ All through the night. ¶
Good night. Sleep tight
Don't let the bedbugs bite.
Good night.
(door creaks, then shuts)
(footsteps thudding)
Mom?
(clicking sound)
(indistinct chatter)
BIFF: I really like the sweater.
(chuckles) Yeah. I like that. I like that a lot.
TIMMY: Thanks, Mom.
MOTHER: You're welcome, sweetheart.
(wrapping paper rustling)
BIFF: Merry Christmas.
Keen, Biff. Thanks.
Yeah, that one's exactly like
the one I had in that gunboat in Nam, you know?
If Charlie saw that thing, it'd scare him half to death.
(gun rattles)
Oh, hey!
Here, sweetheart.
Cuddlestuff Panda Bear!
Oh, wow, this is great, Mom!
Oh, wow!
Oh, Mom!
Oh... Oh, this is keen!
Oh, good.
Keen. MOTHER: Mwa!
(door creaking)
(door squeaks)
(door creaking)
(lock clicks)
Dear God, please get rid of all the...
(rattling sound under bed)
(demonic roaring)
MOTHER (in other room): Why don't you just let Timmy be Timmy?
BIFF: Because he's growing up to be a limp-wristed, lily-livered...
He's not your boy!
I mean, you have no right to try...!
I'm your husband! I'm the head of this house!
I have every right in the world.
You treat that kid like a six-year-old girl!
(door slams)
Dear God, please get rid of all the disease, poverty,
pain, suffering and starvation.
And God bless Nana, Mr. Abrizzio, Miss Smith and Ernie.
And just Mommy.
(distorted voice)
(wind whistling)
(rhythmic creaking)
(heavy breathing)
(saw whirring)
(screaming)
Mommy! Mommy!
HELEN: What is it, honey? I need a drink of water!
BIFF: Go get your own water. You're no baby.
Don't encourage him, damn it.
(eerie roaring)
(grunts)
Mommy!
HELEN: Timmy.
Timmy, please don't create a scene, honey.
Can't you get your own water?
There's a boogeyman in here.
Okay, Timmy.
(snarling)
There's monsters in my room!
BIFF: Timmy, damn it, be a man!
Grow up, will you, for once?!
Look what you've done to this kid.
He's in the third grade and he's afraid of the dark.
(saw stops)
(growling)
(gasps)
Don't mind your father.
He just wants what's best for you.
He's not my father.
He's your new father.
Just give Biff some time.
He's a good man inside.
Shall I sing to you?
¶ Sleep my child and peace attend thee ¶
¶ All through the night ¶
¶ Guardian angels God will send thee ¶
¶ All through the night ¶
¶ Soft the drowsy hours are creeping ¶
¶ Hill and vale in slumber steeping ¶
¶ I, my loving vigil keeping ¶
¶ All through the night. ¶
There you go.
You go to sleep.
I have to take some Christmas presents to the neighbors.
No!
Yes. I'm going to be right back.
Now you behave yourself, and listen to your father.
Don't go.
Oh, sweetheart.
(kissing sounds)
(keys jingling)
(door opening)
(door closing)
(footsteps departing)
(wind whistling)
(car door opening)
(car door closing)
(car engine starting)
(evil laughter)
(gasps)
You like songs, eh, kid?
Aye, aye, aye, aye.
Hey, listen, I'm gonna make a man out of you yet.
Hey, come on, come on, try this.
Try it, come on.
(spits)
It's gross.
You bet it's gross.
It's beer, kid. It's beer.
Here's a beer-drinking song for you, too. Hey!
¶ What do you do with a drunken sailor? ¶
¶ What do you do with a drunken sailor ¶
¶ Earl-eye in the morning? ¶
¶ Shave his belly with a rusty razor ¶
¶ Earl-eye in the morning. ¶ Hey!
¶ What do you do with a yellow-bellied sailor? ¶
¶ What do you do with a yellow-bellied sailor ¶
¶ Earl-eye in the morning? ¶
¶ You keelhaul him till he's braver ¶
¶ You keelhaul him till he's braver earl-eye the m... ¶
Aah.
(sighs)
¶ Hooray, up she rises ¶
¶ Hooray, up she r... ¶
(laughs)
¶ Hooray, up she rises earl-eye in the morning ¶
¶ Hooray, up she rises... ¶
(whistle blows)
(drum playing)
VOICE: Yellow-bellied sailor.
(bell ringing, tune playing, drum playing)
(quacking)
VOICE: Yellow-bellied sailor.
(drum beating)
Yellow-bellied sailor.
(whistle blowing)
(barking, tune playing)
Yellow-bellied sailor.
(whistle blowing)
Yellow-bellied sailor.
(squeaking)
Yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied.
(whistling)
(drum beating) Yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied.
Yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied.
(drum playing, roaring) Yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied yellow-bellied.
Yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied.
(growling) Yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied.
Yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied.
yellow-bellied, yellow-bellied...
Stop it!
(wind howling, frog croaking)
Get out of you here, you old octopus!
(groans) I ain't no yellow belly!
I ain't afraid of no ghost!
Buzz off, saw!
(roars)
Make my day.
This is my room!
This is my house!
These are my toys!
Get out!
(door squeaks and slams)
I'm no yellow belly, you hear?
(banging on door)
BIFF: Shut up in there! Go to sleep!
I got to go the bathroom.
(door squeaking, growling)
(gasps)
(distant cheering on TV)
MAN (on TV): Frank, what a game!
I got to tell you.
Not since the Packers back in '59 have I seen two teams
go after each other with such ferocity.
FRANK: You can say that again.
I can hear the heads cracking all the way back here in...
(screaming)
MAN (on TV): ...to bring you a word from our local sponsors...
What the heck you doing in here?
I got to go to the bathroom.
Well, go on down the hallway and use your own bathroom.
Now, go on, go on.
I can't.
Why not?
What did you flush down the toilet now, huh?
Nothing! There's a witch in there.
Hey! Hey!
Listen, you go on back down the hallway
and use your own damn bathroom.
I'm not gonna coddle you and your stories
like your mother does. She spoils you.
She makes you weak just like her. Now, go on, go on.
You shut up about my mother!
She's brave. You're the weak one.
You're weak in your head!
Look, I am gonna paddle you now, boy. Now, go to your room!
Go on. Go to your room!
Go on!
(insects chirring)
(whimpering)
Hey.
Hey?
What are you doing under there, huh?
(groans) Stop whining, will you?
(crying) Come on, stop whining.
Take it like a man.
You're not a baby anymore.
(door slamming) What the...?
(cackling)
(yells)
(cackling)
(laughing) (squishing)
(Biff groaning)
(cackling)
(saw powering up)
(whirring)
(organ plays solemn music)
Nana?
Timmy?
Thank you.
Aunt Teresa?
(sighs)
It's just such a shock, Helen.
He was a fine man.
I never knew he had heart trouble.
Neither did we, Aunt Teresa.
He didn't have any heart trouble.
Monsters got him.
(sighs)
Oh. Timmy.
No.
He was the scaredy cat.
The monsters got him.
Timmy, I think you should go to your room.
NARRATOR: The dark side is always there.
Waiting for us to enter.
Waiting to enter us.
Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight.