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THE FRANTIC FLICKER
"The movie magazine that isn't..."
----Serving nonsense on a golden platter since 2004.----
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Issue #4: March 5, 2004
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www.franticflicker.com
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"It's the first place my eye looks."
-Director Jess Franco, explaining why the camera sometimes zooms in on a normally-hidden
portion of the female anatomy in his films. From Immoral Tales: European Sex and Horror Movies
1956 - 1984.
IN THIS ISSUE:
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==>Introduction
==>The Girl From Rio
==>All You Have To Do Is Ask
==>The Visiting of the Sponsors
==>Superatomic Giveaway of the Week
==>Whodunnit?
Introduction
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Howdy folks,
Here we are at issue number FOUR of The Frantic Flicker, and I finally feel like I'm starting to get
the hang of this thing. Twisted Kiddie Week was a swell idea, but maybe more than a little bit
ahead of its time. It did keep me entertained though, and until I get a strong outpouring of
feedback to the contrary, that means it went well.
This week is crazy Jess Franco week, but don't worry, even if you hate Jess Franco (or don't know
who he is), you won't be lost. What it really means is that I've got a few Franco-related things on
the front page of the website (www.franticflicker.com - check it, kids) and the Superatomic
Giveaway of the Week is Franco-related. Otherwise, we're off in the wild blue yonder doing our
own thing yet again (and it feels good!).
Eric
And now that you're all psyched up, allow me to introduce the meat and potatoes of this issue.
It's a sweller-than-the-Mississippi-after-a-hurricane original tale I call:
THE GIRL FROM RIO
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It wasn't cool at all. I'm not sure how I let this woman drag me up there, or why, but there she
was, maybe four hours after I'd first laid eyes on her, jumping around on the ledge on top of the
Potter Building.
"Tomas, look at me! I am a magical dancer!" My name is Thomas, and I prefer Tom, but what she
called me sounded more like "toe maaahs." I really hated it, especially since she should have been
calling me Mr. Baxter.
"Get down from there, you idiot," I said. "You're gonna fall and break your stupid neck."
"Tomas, look, I can fly. Want to see?" No. I didn't want to see that. Not even a little bit. It was
11:30 A.M. and I was still a little hung over from all the gin rickeys I'd had the night before. I'd lost
any number of secretaries for any number of reasons, but this one took the cake. I covered my
eyes.
"Wheee..." I heard the voice trail away. I opened my eyes and she was gone.
There's no way to prepare yourself for a moment like that. Usually when you meet someone
who's off their nut, they'll at least put up a sane front for a day or so, but this girl hadn't even
done that. It had been, "Do you know how to go to... roof?" "Let's eat on that roof," and after I'd
grudgingly accepted, "Wheee..." and I needed another new secretary. I'd really have to talk to
personnel about this. They'd sent me some winners before, but this time, holy moley, what could
they have been thinking?
I spent a few minutes getting my story straight. I mean, god forbid, someone might think I
pushed her, or that I was trying to get at her and it went wrong. There were any number of ways
this could blow up in my face. I purposely avoided looking over the edge. I'd seen enough crap like
that in the war to last me forever, no way I'd look at it on purpose now.
When I got down to the office on the 73rd floor, she was already there waiting for me. She
smiled, and I could have wrung her neck.
"You little sneak. How'd you get past me?"
"I flied. I went to Rio de Janeiro and went to the market there." She noticed that I wasn't smiling,
but I'm not sure she understood it was because of her. "I brought you a flower."
She handed it to me. I'm no damn botanist, but it was pretty, I guess. She was a liar and a
sneak, but there are worse crimes in the world, and giving me a present isn't one of them. I
looked her over right where she stood, and thought about it. Maybe I could overlook glaring
insanity under the right circumstances. She was, after all, very nice to look at.
At the end of the day, she told me in no uncertain terms that she would be coming home with
me. Since I hadn't drawn the line at deceit and jumping off of buildings, I saw no real reason that
any line had to be drawn at all. Once we were comfy and cozy in my exotic love den, I tried to
press the issue about what had happened on the rooftop, but it didn't seem to get through. She
just kept kissing me and saying my name wrong - "Tomas, Tomas..."
She left before sunrise and met me at work right on time. At lunch, once again, she wanted to go
up to the roof. I tried to talk her out of it, but she didn't pay much attention, and I don't blame
her: as pathetic as it sounds, by the middle of day two, I was already just along for the ride.
Sure enough, as soon as we'd finished eating, it was time for her magical dancer jazz again.
"Come on, Tomas. You can fly too."
"No. I'm sorry. I really can't."
"We'll go to Rio de Janeiro. It's a beautiful city of love and romancing."
"Yeah, I've been there. It's pretty cool."
"Well, I am going to fly." So stupid, I thought. You can't do that. But that's all I had time to think
before she jumped. "Wheee..."
This time, there could be no doubt. She had actually gone over the side of the building. I had to
look over the edge. Maybe there was a balcony ten feet down or something else soft she might
have landed on. Nope. Nothing. Just the empty-looking street far below.
I figured out my alibis again, got myself together and took the elevator down to 73. She wasn't
there. Next I went down and looked for a crowd on the street around where I thought the body
should have been. I looked up. Where had we been? Right there? It was hopeless. In a blind
panic, I ran around all of the adjoining blocks, just in case she had somehow fallen over another
building. There was no sign of her, or anyone who'd fallen off of a building anywhere. I headed
back to the office. This time she was there waiting for me. She looked serious. I felt sort of dizzy.
"Tomas, I must talk to you."
"Yeah, okay, in my office."
"No." She pointed up. I knew what she meant.
When we got to the roof, there was a young man waiting there. She explained, well, from what I
could understand, as they were both speaking quickly and not always in my language, his name
was Jose and the two of them had met on a street corner and instantly fallen in love just
moments ago.
"Jose is not afraid to fly," she said.
"We are magical dancers" said Jose as they both pranced up onto the ledge.
"Well, I'm sure you'll have a good time together," I said.
"Jose is not afraid to fly. We are not afraid, Tomas."
"I can see that."
From the way they looked at each other, I could tell I had zero chance of getting up with her
again anytime soon. I watched closely this time, and when they jumped, they didn't fall straight
down, but away from the building. And when they'd reached a certain speed, they started going
up again, then over the top of the building next door, and away out of sight.
I looked out over the edge of the Potter Building. Was that all it took? Just to get up there and
dance around, then jump off and fly? And even I could do it? Nah. Not today. Not me. I turned my
back to the ledge and headed down to give the personnel department a piece of my mind.
THE END
There's also a Jess Franco movie out on DVD from Blue Underground called The Girl From Rio. I
haven't seen it, and I don't imagine it follows my story very faithfully (since it was written a long
time ago by someone else with a different idea), but the stills and stuff I've seen make it look cool.
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ASK
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In this section, I will happily answer any question you might have, whether I know the answer or
not. Just send them to eric@franticflicker.com with the subject line "I have a question.". I
especially like questions about regular school-type subjects, advice, or stuff about movies.
2 questions this week!
Question: If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, where's the peck of pickled peppers
Peter Piper picked? - Martin
Answer: Well, Martin, I assume you're not trying to drag me into some sort of silly nonsense
question, and that you are actually interested in the origins of this popular nursery rhyme. I'll tell
you what I know.
Peiter Calvinovich was a mud brick layer who emigrated with his family to United States from what
is now Serbia in the late 1840's. At Ellis Island, where they were at that time in the habit of
American-izing foreign sounding names, he became thereafter known as "Peter Culpepper."
Culpepper, along with his wife and two daughters, moved to what is now known as Fort Knox,
Kentucky, but was then called Shiny Nugget Junction. Fortunately for Culpepper and his family,
Shiny Nugget Junction was at that time (circa 1850) the mud brick capital of the United States.
While only the very richest could afford entire walls of the stuff, people would come from as far
away as Florida and Jamaica just for a sample of the famous Shiny Nugget Junction mud brick, and
Culpepper, in the very thick of it, served many a satisfied customer.
Culpepper easily made his fortune as a mud brick layer, and by the time of his 32nd birthday, he
was ready to retire. His younger daughter, Tina, was 15 at the time and engaged to be married to
an untrustworthy young brute named Jimmy Fucko.
Fucko was a few years older than Tina, and not very well-liked in the community. His father Len, a
farmer and widower, had passed away suddenly after a bout of rabies contracted after an
unusually cold winter had brought packs of rabid wild dogs down from Canada to feed on the local
livestock. His father's death left 18-year-old Jimmy Fucko with the family farm, a great deal of
money, and a sense that he was somehow the smartest person who had ever lived.
Jimmy immediately shut down the livestock portions of the farm, razed the ground, and set up
shop making his favorite food in the world: pickled peppers. Fucko was entranced with pickled
peppers and was known to go for weeks at a time without eating anything else. In fact, rumor at
the time had it that he had chosen his bride-to-be, little Tina Culpepper, based solely on the fact
that her last name contained the word "pepper."
Peter Culpepper, while he did feel a certain responsibility to put Tina in the care of a financially
solvent husband, was not crazy about the idea of her marrying Jimmy Fucko, or for that matter,
anyone who based their entire being around the worship of one particular vegetable prepared
just so. He just didn't seem level-headed enough. Culpepper needed a way to either calm his
doubts about Jimmy Fucko, or get rid of him once and for all.
The following plan was agreed upon: Culpepper would hide a peck-sized jar of pickled peppers in
Lost Man's Cave beneath Shiny Nugget Junction. Jimmy Fucko would enter the cave with no food
or water, and if he came out with more than half the of peppers within 3 days, he would win Tina's
hand. If, on the other hand, he couldn't find the jar within 3 days, or if he ate more than half of
the peppers once he'd found them, then he would be exiled from Shiny Nugget Junction forever,
and Tina would get his farm and all his money.
Fucko agreed, but on one condition: Culpepper would have to exchange last names with him. That
way, Jimmy Fucko would become Jimmy Culpepper, and Peter Culpepper would become Peter
Fucko. In those days, a good name was one of the few valuable possessions that a person could
have, and barters like this were common. Culpepper didn't mind giving up his last name, but didn't
want his last name to be Fucko either. Jimmy Fucko's mother's maiden name was Piper, and so it
was eventually decided that Culpepper would adopt that as his latter moniker.
In preparation for the big day, the former Peiter Calvinovich, now known as Peter Piper, picked a
peck (about 2.4 gallons) of pickled peppers from among the "too well pickled" rejects at the former
Jimmy Fucko's packing plant. He counted the peppers as he put them in, and wrote the final tally
down. Later that day, he went as far into the cave as he could, but rather than hiding the big jar,
he set it down in plain sight.
The former Jimmy Fucko, now known as Jimmy Culpepper, went into the cave bravely at ten in the
morning on a Friday. At noon on Monday, a group was sent in to get him. They found him easily
enough; he wasn't far from the entrance, but he was stone dead. The jar of pickled peppers lay
beside him, with one pepper more than half of them eaten. A primitive autopsy confirmed that
Fucko (the name rights lapsed after his death) had literally been pickled to death.
Little Tina was one of three mourners at Fucko's funeral, but she wasn't sad for long: Jimmy's
death had made her the richest woman in Shiny Nugget Junction, and at that time, in a town
known for its elaborate mud bricks, that's saying a lot.
After the dust had settled, Peter Culpepper decided to keep the name Peter Piper, perhaps
because it reminded him of his triumph. Variations of this story, including one where all of the
peppers were poisoned, and another where Fucko died of a broken heart after realizing he'd
eaten one pepper too many, plagued the town of Shiny Nugget Junction for years after the
incident itself. And the nursery rhyme is still told today:
Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked. If Peter
Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, how many pickled peppers did Peter Piper pick?
The answer to that question is one the world may never know, but my guess, based on a short
series of personal experiments, is 279.
The answer to YOUR question -
"If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, where's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper
picked?"
- is that one more than half of them (probably about 140) ended up in Jimmy Fucko's belly, and as
for the rest, nobody knows.
- Eric
Question: What kind of a name is Spork? - Kirk
Answer: A nickname. - Eric
THE VISITING OF THE SPONSORS
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Just a couple of quick commercials before SUPERATOMIC time.
EBAY!
I'm an eBay fiend (username mothra911, feedback rating 846 and counting). I've been a bit lax in
my ebay duties lately, but there's a ton of stuff (including some early 90s surf /garage 7"s) that
are going up this week (and this week I really mean it, too!), so check it out, baby!
http://cgi6.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewSellersOtherItems&userid=mothra911&include=0&sinc
e=-1&sort=3&rows=50
No reason to enjoy this alone -
GET EVERYONE YOU KNOW TO SUBSCRIBE!
If you get everyone you know to sign up for The Frantic Flicker, then you'll all still have something
to talk about after they air the final episode of "Friends".
These are just suggestions, but: Tell 'em we give stuff away, tell 'em it's free, tell 'em we won't
share their info. (all that stuff's even true). Tell 'em they have to sign up or you'll kick them. Tell
'em we give away diamonds and furs and original Jackson Pollock paintings.
Tell 'em anything, but get 'em over here, and get 'em signed up.
As your representative in the universe at large, I promise sub-Mensa ramblings and a weird story
in every pot (but not diamonds, furs, Pollock paintings, or accepting liability if you actually kick
someone).
Sign 'em up!
Thanks for your patience.
And now, it's time for our...
SUPERATOMIC GIVEAWAY OF THE WEEK
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Part of my whole reason for being here is to expose people to cool and/or weird stuff that they
might not otherwise know about, and one of the main ways I want to do that is by giving stuff
away for free.
This week's giveaway is Jess Franco's LUST FOR FRANKENSTEIN: the DVD and the photo-comic. I
don't foresee any problems, but you must be at least 18 years old to enter this contest. See the
website for further details.
The week before last I had 9 entries into my contest, and this past week (for the awesome
TWISTED KIDDIE PRIZE PACKAGE), I only had 5! So if this prize does anything for you at all, please
enter: you've got a good chance of winning!
To win, send an e-mail to superatomic@franticflicker.com. Put your NAME and ADDRESS in the
BODY of the e-mail, and use the SUPERATOMIC SECRET PASSWORD in a COMPLETE SENTENCE as
the SUBJECT line. Your information will not be used for any other purpose.
The SUPERATOMIC SECRET PASSWORD for this week is... (sorry, gotta subscribe to find out - go
ahead, it's free and I never share your info with anyone).
Visit the superatomic section of the website (www.franticflicker.com/superatomic) for complete
rules, more details and photos of this week's prize. Contest ends late Thursday night, March 11,
2004.
By entering, you confirm that you are 18 years of age or older. US or Canadian entrants only,
please.
WHODUNNIT
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Written, compiled, researched, edited and published by yours truly, King Boss Man Eric
Henderson! Thanks for reading it!
The Frantic Flicker is a weekly e-mail newsletter published by Eric Henderson.
The official website is up and looking better almost every week, so please visit us online at:
www.franticflicker.com
If you have any questions or comments, I'd be happy to hear them. Gimmee a holler at:
eric@franticflicker.com. If you don't want me to print your letter, let me know.
I'll talk at you again next week. Thanks! Eric
All content copyright 2004 Eric Henderson. All rights reserved, but feel free to forward this e-mail
or link to my home page. Thanks.
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instructions below.
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THE LIVING END
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