Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter

Scott Bowles is going to pay this time. He assigned this movie to me knowing that it would give me a stomach ache, but he didn't care. When he told me to review Friday the 13th, Part II and Halloween III, I cringed but I didn't complain. When he forced me to see Friday the 13th 3-D, Frightmare, and Amityville 3-D, I begged him to assign them to someone else, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. So when this fiend of a human being called me up last week and malevolently informed me that I was reviewing Friday the 13th, The Final Chapter, I broke out in a cold sweat and started twitching. I cried, I whimpered, I whined, I flailed, but he didn't care … not one bit. I offered him junk food, priceless baseball cards and my Jodie Foster pin-up. But he only laughed and said, "Enjoy the movie, Steve" before hanging up on me. So I went and again witnessed all the orgiastic violence that only Jack the Ripper could fully appreciate. There were lots of gory scenes, a multitude of breasts and more gory scenes. But you know what? I'm glad I went because now I know exactly how to get even with Scott for the insensitive way he's treated me. First, I'm going to grind his trachea with a saw, lift him off the ground (if that's possible) and disembowel him, impale him on a window shutter with a butcher knife, and twist a corkscrew right through his hand. Then I'll crush his skull, imbed my fingers into his eye sockets, plant a meat cleaver in his chest, drive a pick-axe into his head and let him fall face first, driving the knife clear through his warped brain. And after that, maybe I'll kill him. Jason may be dead, but I'm just beginning.