A warning from Circus of the Dead (2014 – read the our review here) director Billy Pon.
I first met Papa Corn back in 2014 when I first saw the glory that is Circus of the Dead … this is from Papa Corn himself. It does not reflect the opinions and statements of myself and co-writer Lee Ankrum!
I agree with Bill. These answers may be offensive, and are certainly NSFW. If you’ve seen Circus of the Dead, and you decide to keep reading … that’s on you, man.
PopHorror: Thank you so much for talking to me, sir!
Papa Corn: Peer through our keyhole and tell us what you see; our truth revealed will pluck out your eye, and then death will peer through thee.
PopHorror: Can you tell me about your first true experience in your nighttime profession?
Papa Corn: To our DeADy, we lament, Happy Father’s Day to you! An expert bastard, versed at beating junior black and blue. We thank you for your iron hand and bitter, hateful wit. If you hadn’t fucked our mother, we’d be mixed up in her spit. So, on this day we honor you, victim sperm to brutal dick. We hope your arsenic cake we baked doesn’t make you sick.
PopHorror: What’s with the Bingo cards?
Papa Corn: Candy will always taste better than air, and piggies will always settle for less than they need in exchange for more of what they want …
PopHorror: Have you ever gotten a Bingo?
Papa Corn: If you can’t beat ’em, you’re just not hitting hard them enough …
PopHorror: How many staplers do you own?
Papa Corn: Most “good people” we’ve encountered would buy Jesus Christ a box of nails for Christmas before admitting their true nature …
PopHorror: Have you ever gotten a rash from your makeup?
Papa Corn: Cunnilingus is for pussies…
PopHorror: Speaking of makeup, was yours inspired by anyone?
Papa Corn: The clown is of the highest lunatic stock. Only madmen would hide behind false expression and wield such sinister intent …
PopHorror: Are any of the members of the other circus acts homicidal, necrophiliac, serial rapists?
Papa Corn: If we had been talented, taller, and better looking, we could have been God. Instead, we became the devil.
PopHorror: Have you ever thought about getting married?
Papa Corn: We need a candy snack. So here we are again, waiting to be seated at our usual table. This one should yield a palette-pleasing morsel or two … Tastefully decorated with her concrete lawn-jockey, and the Beware of Killer Chihuahua sign so proudly displayed on her, to keep the bad people out fence. It’s not just the taste of the meal, it’s the presentation of the meal’s stupidity. We especially admire its pussy pink Brat mobile parked in the princess’s driveway, adorned with subliminal ideology meant to keep other drivers amused while they secretly want to fire a fucking slug through its windshield, tinting the glass with suburban grey matter. Mom’s taxi … Vote Bush. Papa always does … ‘What Would Jesus Do? What would Jesus Do?’ Hmmmm … What would He do? It wants the clown …
PopHorror: Have you ever thought about leaving Texas?
Papa Corn: If hell ever does freeze over, we will be the one wearing a parka made out of your family’s skin …
PopHorror: Does your penis ever get cold? It spends a lot of time in the open air.
Papa Corn: Wolves renting sheep, sodomizing Bo Peep. Mother Goose, can a wing job you lend? Go and ask Mary, making love quite contrary. Fabled whores know how fairy tales end.
PopHorror: Do you think horror movies are cathartic?
Papa Corn: Don’t pawn or sell us your second hand soul. When used, they lack taste, so we vomit them whole. Return him his gift, to which god you regard. Just expect a store credit and, at best, a gift card …
PopHorror: I noticed your friend with the chainsaw seemed to appear and disappear without much acknowledgement. I feel like he didn’t get enough credit. Can you tell us more about him?
Papa Corn: He has juggled grenades, barbed wire and blades, but chainsaws are what he prefers. When our whistle calls to this ghostly wretch, the devil inside him stirs. He broods silent inside his Pandora’s box when opened, Hell is unleashed. It’s the time of the mime, and you’re now on mime time, out of time with the mime you have reached.
PopHorror: What happened to his jaw?
Papa Corn: It’s so much easier to swallow a honey coated lie, than it is a bitter truth …
PopHorror: So, what’s next for you?
Papa Corn: She did not mind us picking her brain. For within, a penny was lost. We paid for her thoughts, not her insane. Pray this skull saw recovers our cost. Ours is the only cents she has left. She was dumb broke, but now penny wise. Shall we leave, Mr Lincoln, and forgive her of theft? He kills brain eating zombies with scythes!
Yeah, I have no idea what I just read either. He’s definitely insane, our Papa Corn. I think he should tour the country with his act. What about you guys?