“What to review next on my show?” That was what Myles asked himself as he strode down the frigid Port Coldstone streets near his home after getting off the bus. It was only 6:30 PM, but the winter season brought on the darkness of night all the sooner. Myles usually enjoyed the looming night and atmosphere it alluded to. His dark wool coat covered several layers of goth attire beneath, but it was already bleeding what warmth he had gained while on public transit. His breath hung in the air as he muddled over what obscure film he might look at and pick apart for what passed as enjoyment in his life.
“Alone in the Dark? Cannibal Holocaust?” he questioned this under his breath as he fiddled with his phone, chipping the edges of his black nail-polish as he tried to type. A text came in from Sarah, which he summarily ignored in the face of his current priority. Not an action out of malice, just obsession. Maybe he’d find his muse on one of the half-dozen sites he frequented for features. It was enough distraction that he didn’t notice the disheveled figure shambling at a quickened pace in his direction. After the sudden impact of a collision and fall to the icy sidewalk, Myles was trying to catch the license plate of the guy who had hit him. All he’d seen at the last moment was a flurry of dirty blurred clothes and a whispered chittering of someone who was probably lacking a permanent home.
The hobo, shuffling in a panicked manner, was nearly out of sight, rounding the corner of a dilapidated brick house. All that remained of his hasty hit-and-run passage was a wafting stench of refuse in the air… and a VHS tape he had dropped not 3 feet from where Myles had fallen.
“What…?” The confused anger of being so rudely accosted was replaced with confused curiosity as he looked at the antiquated media and grabbed it before picking himself up from the wet, cold ground. It was an old, scratched cassette with a worn and frayed cover and masking tape on the side, with a title written in permanent marker.
“30 Minutes Or Else!” He read and looked again for the hobo, long gone at this point. He looked back at the tape and gave a slight smile. He had been looking for something to review, and if nothing else, this would certainly provide an interesting side story if it turned out to be shitty porn. Seriously though, who would be carrying a VHS on their person in this day and age? Was that homeless guy freshly plucked from the 90s? Fitting the tape in his deep coat pocket, he continued on his walk home, surprisingly happier than before due to the seemingly serendipitous incident which had occurred.
The camera was set up in its usual spot, plugged into the laptop and sitting atop a pile of old, long unused college textbooks. The red blinking light signified that it was recording, and Myles sat before it, in his usual position, on an old, well-used and comfy chair. He had spent most of the night watching the tape and amazingly it wasn’t porn. Myles then set about typing up his thoughts of it to review on camera.
“Good Evening dear viewers, tis I: Myles Macabre! Here to share the schlokiest fright fests I can dredge from the abyssal pits of cinema. Tonight is no exception, for the film I’ve uncovered here… or should I say was literally dropped at my feet, is quite the relic of it’s time. Let me tell you about ‘30 Minutes or Else!’
“It’s a slasher flick from 1980, according to the credits, and stars a bunch of no-name actors whose IMDb profiles don’t even exist. They must have really gone places after this film, huh? The setup is that a pizza delivery guy gets a ridiculously large order from some jock and bimbo troped characters named (ironically enough) Myles and Sarah. I guess you could say this film was made for me? Though given the acting and portrayal involved, I’d like to send this back to the kitchen. Anyway, with only a shotty address in hand, the pizza guy takes his bike out with the pile of pizzas to deliver to the teens. He reaches the address, but is over the 30 minute period and loses his paycheck that night, much to the enjoyment and ridicule from the annoying teens, I think you can see where this is going. On route back to the Pizzeria, named ‘Fred's Discount Pizza’, he’s killed in a traffic accident and sent skidding down the street by a car. To be perfectly blunt, it’s pretty standard gore fare for these types of films.
“Jump ahead some span of time, probably a couple of days, and these shitty teens order pizza again but get a weird voice on the line when they call Fred’s. The film even displays a phone number as the teens dialed, which scrolls across the screen. The voice says that he’ll bring them their order in 30 minutes… or ELSE! and without actually taking that order, hangs up. What follows is just over 30 minutes of slow and “tension building” (in quotes) silliness as the killer hunts down these teens, cutting a swath of bystanders in his pursuits, and eventually murders the duo with that cheesy visceral abandon that you only really get in the bygone era of schlock slashers, trying to imitate the greats of that period.
“Speaking of, this is such an obvious homage or maybe just a straight up cash grab that the director goes by the name Jon Carpenter (without an H), not to be mistaken for the better and original Master of Horror (who has an h in his first name, by the by). Either this filmmaker was a fan and used a pseudonym, or he had been incredibly blessed… or some might even say cursed at birth.
“The killer in this feature also has some copied abilities from better films. The killer, if it wasn’t obvious, is the late delivery guy, back from death to take revenge on the kids who had ruined him. He had what seemed to be teleportation abilities, able to appear in the perfect jumpscare spot to kill his victims. I will give the film this, while most would expect this killer to wield some iconic big knife, he actually uses something thematic: a Nasty looking pizza-cutter, complete with a large crust-blade on the back and an incredibly sharp and durable blade wheel.
“His fashion is surely nothing to shrug off either, as it's practically branded. He wears a basic white t-shirt with the logo of the pizza joint, complete with the slogan: ‘Home of the Nice Slice!’ and also dons a leather jacket and jeans, all bloodied and dirtied from his death, completing the ensemble with a ballcap. His face is horribly scraped and cut up on the one side and the kids off-handedly dubbed him “Pizza Face” for this early on after a first encounter with him. Honestly, it’s a pretty weak-sauce slasher name, all things considered, too obvious for my tastes.
“The film ends with the killer victorious over the teens as he returns to a closed Pizzeria, where he remains as the screen fades to black with the sound of a phone ringing.
“As we bring this episode to a close ourselves, there is one funny thing in this piece of retro hacky slash that I discovered while watching it. The Pizzeria: Fred’s Discount Pizza? It’s the same name as a Pizzeria in the town I live in! I’ve passed it before and, while it looks like it is on the brink of closing, the phone number in the movie is the same, according to the Yellow Pages. So for a little fun, and because this tripe has made me a bit peckish, I’ll give the number a call on the show, just to see what happens.”
Myles went for the phone and dialed up Fred’s. After a short moment, a preprogrammed voice came on. However, It wasn’t Fred’s machine; instead, it was that voice you get stating that a number is not in service. His smug smirk fell to a disappointed frown as he hung up and looked at the camera.
“Well that was as much a waste of time as this fi-” The phone began to ring. Myles looked at it incredulously and picked it up.
“Hello?”
The voice that responded was raspy and graveled. “Hey, this is Fred’s Discount Pizza. We got your order, dude, and I’m comin’ over to deliver it to ya. Ciao!”
The person on the other end hung up before Myles could object. He hadn’t even given an order?... He put the phone down, shaking a little as he was taken aback by the call, then looked to the recording camera. He turned it off.
“What was that? I didn’t even place an order or give out my address?” These thoughts sailed through Myles’ head as he tried to figure out what had just happened, then he realized.
“Oh, fucking Andrew!” Andrew was his neighbor next door, they shared a wall that was pretty thin, occasionally the guy had banged on Myles’ door telling him to keep things down, either when he was getting very excited in a performance for the show, or heated in a game on Xbox. The jerk must have heard the review through the wall and decided to prank Myles, all because he was probably cranky for being woken up. It was Myles’ fault the guy worked an early shift.
Myles left his apartment, pivoting in place to face the other door on this level where the other apartment had been partitioned. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of leaving his back turned to the third door in this glorified mudroom that led out to the street, he began hammering at Andrew’s door. A few minutes later the door shot open and big Andrew was there, bleary eyed and pissed.
“WHAT?!” Myles shrunk a little under the intimidating appearance of the man.
“Uh… hey, dude, did you call me a minute ago? I know I get carried away sometimes when recording my stuff but like, that wasn’t very cool if you did.
“What? I just got up… from you here. Jesus man, grow up! Some of us have jobs in the morning. Don’t got time for this.” Thinking he was about to get punched, instead Myles only had the door slammed in his face as Andrew ended the conversation right there and then. Left with that as his answer, Myles took a look toward the exterior door, the lights of the street the only details to be seen in the darkness of the evening, he quickly retreated back to his own little hovel.
“Safe” inside, door locked, Myles tried to shrug off the strangeness of those last few minutes on recording and started his prep-work for the editing phase. Maybe that would distract his mind.
It really didn’t.
As he took the footage off the camera and looked it over on his computer a couple of times, he found himself trying to comprehend what had occurred. It had been about ten minutes of this, when another call snapped him from his thoughts. He picked it up.
“H-Hello?”
“Hey bud, so...um… I’m almost at your place with your order - 30 minutes or Else, right? But I can’t recall. Is it a 6 or an 8 on your road?” The voice was the same rasping wheeze but also burdened by heavier breathing… Was this guy riding a bike? In this weather? It sounded like a goddamn bike. Myles didn’t like any of this.
“Listen, I didn’t order anything, I just called the place for a laugh… who are you? Are you that hobo? Is this… is this some kind of prank?” The voice responded but didn’t answer Myles’ frantic questioning.
“Right, it was a 6! Should be there in another 5 minutes. Ciao!” The phone went dead and Myles looked even more confused and panicked.
“Shit… it is a 6.”
Myles wasn’t having any of this. This had to be some prank from that asshole hobo. He didn’t know how or why, but it had to be… right? Myles suddenly felt very exposed, he didn’t want to be here. He wasn’t gonna be here when this homeless nutter… or WHOEVER arrived to get his kicks at freaking him out! Why was this happening? Where should he go?
That’s when his phone chimed. Myles dreaded checking it, but then realized it wasn’t an actual call, but a text: It was from his friend Sarah again. She wanted to know if he wanted to come over and game.
Sarah and Myles had been friends for years, getting stoned and gaming since high school, and Sarah’s apartment was only a few blocks away, there was no way this guy knew where she lived… right? Even if he did, there was safety in numbers RIGHT?! He grabbed his keys and coat and left, not even turning things off. He barely made an effort to lock up. Myles just hit the sidewalk running, nearly slipping on some ice. On the way, he would frantically look back to see if he was being followed, even almost getting attacked by an old lady’s small dog as he wasn’t looking where he was hoofing it.
“Young man, be more observant? You could very well die if you aren’t!” Said the perturbed old woman as she pulled back her yapping purse dog. Myles only just stumbled from that encounter before going into a full sprint toward Sarah’s apartment building. Upon arrival and waiting for her reply to buzz him in, he looked for anyone on the street beyond. No one else was around this late at night, as far as he could see.
Sarah was curious and then increasingly worried when Myles explained what had happened, and his panicked tone didn’t help either. They sat down in her living room, a familiar and safe space. She had been playing some Left 4 Dead 2 and she offered to restart to let him in, to help calm him. When he declined, Sarah got up and started for her kitchen.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure…you got any ru” Sarah’s phone rang. She left her route to the fridge and went to take the call. After a minute she looked to Myles, wide-eyed.
“It’s uh…it’s for you...”
“W-who is it?” he asked, but she didn’t reply, simply handing the phone to Myles.
“Hello?”
“Bud! You can’t do that! You can’t leave your home when you have a delivery coming in. At this point I won’t be able to make it to you with your order before the 30 minutes is up! It’s gonna come out of my pay! But don't worry, you’ll still get your delivery! Ciao!” The voice was more angered by the end of the call, and then the phone went dead. Myles was as speechless as Sarah. 15 minutes - 15 painful minutes - went by. Then 30 minutes passed and nothing had happened. Myles and Sarah sat on her couch, the game in the lobby menu for the entire time. They sat there in relative silence, not even touching the bong that Sarah had been using earlier, trying to figure out what to do and why this was happening. How did this guy know what he did, and why was he so hell-bent on giving Myles his pizza? Was he actually from that stupid movie? Was Myles… and now Sarah trapped in some crappy film scenario? He thought he was going insane. The 2 of them remained quiet on the couch.
Sarah eventually broke the silence.
“Maybe we-” The doorbell rang, launching both to their feet. Myles stared at the door, as there came another ring on the bell. After a painful moment he looked to Sarah, who nervously urged him forward - after all, this had all started with him. Not wanting to make a sound, he cautiously made his way to the door. He looked through the peephole. Sure enough, there was a man with a pizza just outside. His face was partially concealed by… by a toque. Clad in a thick winter coat to match the seasonal temperatures, he looked totally normal. Certainly not the villain from some dumb horror film at all. Myles turned away from the peep-hole back to Sarah.
“Hey… you didn’t order Pizza did you?” A dawn of realization flew across her face.
“Oh shit, yeah like right before I texted you, from Pizza Viking! They have my favourite dipping sauce!” They both breathed a sigh of relief. Myles turned back to the door, relaxing for the first time tonight. As he opened the door he didn’t quite hear, but Sarah was mumbling something.
“I wonder who buzzed the guy in?”
In front of Myles was indeed the pizza delivery guy from Pizza Viking, but the pizza was now on the ground, having fallen when the man lost muscle control in his arms after getting his throat slit. Myles looked on in renewed horror as the man gurgled and squirted his red life blood outward and down from his now opened throat. The guy soon followed, to the floor of the hall outside of Sarah’s apartment. Myles looked down at the pizza guy, a now lifeless corpse, and then at the pizza box. There was a message scrawled over the box top in permanent marker:
30 MINUTES OR ELSE!
Myles stared at it for only a second before turning around to warn Sarah. He found Sarah was being sliced and stabbed over and over mere feet away in her own apartment by Pizza Face himself, THE Pizza Face from the film, blood splattering about like pizza sauce on the walls and floor. Myles fumbled back toward the exit and turned, hoping to escape, only to see Pizza Face already there. In a flash, the already used pizza-cutter ripped through Myles’ jugular and he began to feel cold and numb as things went dark. The last thing he saw as he collapsed to the floor, was a stained t-shirt under a ratty leather jacket with a logo for “Fred’s Discount Pizza: Home of the Nice Slice!”
Written by ReviewCultist
Content is available under CC BY-SA