This Generations Greatest Gross-Out Artist

Oh the VHS movies, how as horror fans we are at their mercy. They promise the best new talent in the genre and do they deliver on this? Yes and no. To put it simply, the format is that of an anthology so as you expect, you see some of the best and worst coming from a bunch of young dudes trying to leave a mark. Most tend to be awful but you have to remember the budgets on these things and that it is just a bunch of mates having a laugh at the end of the day. Normally, though there is at least one standout and a few years later that director blows up and comes hot shit. So there's real appeal in discovering new artists as they emerge and following their careers. That one stroke of brilliance makes the terrible ones worth it.

I'm guilty of forgetting that every time, so believe me if you spend a good half hour screaming at your TV, "is this the best they can fucking do?" You're not alone. Best way to view these is like when you go checkout some local talent down at your regular spot. A few fucking awful bands don't tend to put a downer on your night do they? You just get a few beers down you, maybe chuckle to yourself and wait for the good act to appear. It's about the overall experience, hanging out with the fellas, sinking a few beers and checking out who's got the tools. Keeps you sharp. Good art shouldn't just be spoon fed to you every time, otherwise you'll forget what it is. Sometimes you have to actually do some work.

Looking back at VHS 1 from 2012 in a kind of where are they now way, there's only two segments I really remember. Adam Wingard's overarching story is the strongest with a group of robbers breaking in to a house and getting more than they bargained for when they discover some dodgy videotapes. We watch what they watch. Fantastic set up and use of technology. These filmmakers make no secret of their love of Amicus anthologies (not to be confused with Hammer Horror, The House That Dripped Blood is my personal favourite). These young guys though are essentially making a modern version of those in a new style with updated technology.

Many would have known Wingard was talented from his proper 80s throwback home invasion horror You're Next Following VHS he made his best to date, The Guest. Another home invasion movie this time actually borrowing from Theorem and combining it with Rambo and Jason Bourne. The man's forever got my support for that movie alone. Even has Deutsche Amerikanische Freundschaft on the soundtrack as the killer menacingly walks across the high school dancefloor to Alles ist Gut not something you see every day! Unfortunately, he lost a bit of credibility going down a step on his next two with Blair Witch and Death Note. Fully deserves the shit it gets does the latter. His Blair Witch sequel isn't as bad as its made out to be. Of course, he commits a great cinematic sin of showing the witch but the way it uses the woods itself and expands on the mythology is overlooked.

I'm sure we can all agree though he's back in everyone's good books with Godzilla Vs Kong . For that he turned the Kaiju movie in to a colourful Giallo with numerous buddy cop and action movie references. Regardless of your thoughts that was a full on blockbuster with a sequel on the way as well a Face Off follow up in production there's no denying this guy's made it. Personally, I'm a huge fan based on the fact he clearly loves his action just as much as his horror. Keep up the good work, son.

The other standout of the first VHS is David Bruckner who creatively sticks a camera in some horny teen boys glasses and does this piss take on frat boy culture and perverted dodgy attitudes. Talk about a literal male gaze. Very gonzo too. Bruckner's name you may recognise from the last issue as the director of The Night House and the most recent Hellraiser. Whether he's talented or not remains to be seen but evidently he's made it and has been successful since his offering to the VHS series.

Other notable names attached to the project were Joe Swanberg, Matt Bettinelli Olpin, Tyler Gillet and Ti West. Swanberg is part of that mumblecore crowd with Greta Gerwig and Mark Duplass. Odd how those two circles overlap like they do. Whilst quite firmly established in that mumblecore scene, Swanberg is yet to have a horror breakout like his buddy Duplass on the Creep series. Bettinelli Olpin and Gillet ridiculously overrated fraudsters in my opinion but they have somehow managed to make it big with Scream and Ready or Not. Both of which are bang average. On the other hand, Ti West is setting himself up as the best American director of horror right now, which is remarkable because I can't remember his segment in this at all. You may know him from his double attack this year of X and Pearl. Fans of those? Well then I recommend you go back and check out The House of the Devil and The Sacrament All the other directors on VHS, I have no clue who they are. They've even had a second chance so to speak with another well known anthology movie Southbound and still not got anywhere. Maybe it's just not meant to be lads.

WHS 2 has just the one amazing segment and it's that good it makes up for everything. I refer to the one directed by Timo Tjahjanto and Gareth Evans. Martial arts enthusiasts will know these guys for making arguably the two finest fight movies of the last 20 years with The Raid and The Night Comes for Us Everyone knows The Raid but if you don't know The Night Comes for Us, do yourself a favour! These two directors were incredible, effectively stealing attention from Thailand's Muay Thai movies of the 2000s (Ong Bak, The Protector) and initiating interest in Indonesia's Pencak Silat. As Prachya Pinkaew made Tony Jaa a star, these two gave us Iko Uwais. For their joint VHS 2 segment, they beautifully mapped out locations and demonstrated excellent handheld camerawork.

Although, I can barely recall their segments, VHS 2 has a couple of other big directors involved. Eduardo Sanchez, Mr found footage, the filmmaker behind The Blair Witch Project. Also, Jason Eisener, a low budget big boy with bangers like Treevenge and Hobo with a Shotgun. May not have delivered on the big occasion but both are recognisable names.

After two well received films by the horror community, it all seems to fall apart with 2014's VHS: Viral. Not an entry, I've seen but it is meant to have nearly tanked the series for good. Unexpected because it still has a few decent directors involved. Aaron Moorhead and Justin Benson's Spring is actually the second to last horror film to receive the full Kelly 5 Stars™ . Obviously, the last one being Na Hong Jin's The Wailing back in 2016. The Spring guys are high concept Lovecraftian dudes with a Linklater heart, surely they didn't contribute a bad short? Guess I'm gonna have to find out for myself aren't I! Nacho Vigalando is also listed as providing a segment, the director who made the well reviewed Colossal. Is VHS: Viral really as bad as they all say? Did these fellas all have an off day? I'll come back to this when I have the answers.

Luckily, last year Shudder took a chance and managed to revive the series with VHS '94. This time the overarching story is at its most impressive since the first with REC/Saw 2 vibes. Yep a SWAT team is busting in! Unfortunately, whoever's shot it isn't very good with a camera in their hands but it is saved by the Greg Anderson score. Sunn 0))) motherfucker! Bonus points for this. Don't get me wrong, I was a synth maniac in my youth but it's time we brought in more metal. And I'm not talking about Alice Cooper or fucking Kiss. Ok, it's worked in the past but there's been so many different forms of metal come in since the '90s, which are suitable and ready to be put with horrors most disturbing images. Yet, we're not using them. Why do we keep resorting to cheap John Carpenter rip off synths and cheesy 70s metal? When are we going to usher in the Electric Wizards? The Sunn 0)))'s? The Mayhems? The Bathorys? The Deaths? The Darkthrones? The Acid Baths? That hilariously trashy Mortician grindcore shit. Many will know that even better than me but its out there. All this shit is at a directors disposal and most of it was influenced by horror movies to begin with. It's time the horror movie caught up with these developments. Give me the Mandy's, The Devil's Candy's, Deathgasm's, Bliss's and Gummo's. I'm ready!

Winner of the best segment on VHS '94 is from a completely unknown (to me) director Ryan Prows. Chloe Okuno is now massive after the distinctly average Watcher Tjahjanto puts in another solid shift with some Tetsuo style mayhem. Steven Kostanski rocks up too, who many will know from Psycho Goreman and The Void. Now, this guy is actually the most popular of a group of horror collaborators known as Astron 6. Surprising because he's a far from my own favourite of the group. He's more interested in effects and monsters, which sure he's pretty gifted at doing but it doesn't interest me. I'm an Adam Brooks purist. Those unfamiliar with Astron 6's mischief should make their way through their two features, The Editor and Father's Day. Whilst I do prefer The Editor for the Giallo influences, the opening of Father's Day will teach you all you need to know about these guys. Brooks, dressed as Snake Plissken, chases someone down, gets out of a car, cooly delivers the absurd punch line, "Happy Father's Day" before blowing someone away with a shotgun. Boom straight in to the title credits.

If you happen to get converted like myself, then you're in luck, there's about a million short films you can get off their website. Some are on YouTube but yes you get the opportunity to download them as MP4s and pretend it's the file sharing and storage days before all this streaming business came in to play. By far the cream of the crop on these shorts are H.I.Z. and You're Dead. Wack on the former for a Friday the 13th 30 minute parody. Then lash on the latter for perhaps one of the only films of the last 20 years you could genuinely could convince me was made in the grindhouses heyday. Some achievement. From the cheap look, to the morally reprehensible viewpoint, it is nasty sicko shit like Maniac

None of these directors names matter on VHS '94 because as I said Ryan Prows emerges as the king and walks off with the prize. His segment is a mixture of Four Lions and 28 Days later. So wish I directed this and it definitely deserves a feature at some point. It's about a bunch of right wingers gathered together at a training camp when a zombie infestation breaks out. Trust me it's hilarious as it mocks the stupidity of its subjects. Chris Morris level of satire.

Ok, so that brings us up to speed for VHS '99, yes another 90s set one playing it safe. Out of the three I've seen in the series, this is my least favourite. No overarching story this time just some cheap looking stock motion. Female director Maggie Levin kicks off the proceedings with the utterly abysmal 'Shredding', an expectedly unconvincing effort at depicting a riot grrrl band to solidify the series DIY status. It falls victim to the yank trend of making punks too cartoony and unbelievable. Just a bunch of people wearing costumes. It'll make you cry out for someone convincing like Fairuza Balk, who lived and breathed roles. Rather just dressing up and making edgy pathetic statements in to a camera. Only causes films like Green Room to be even more of a rarity with its sublime performance from the late Anton Yelchin. This director also goes for some Avant Garde psychedelic editing, which can only be described as shoddy filmmaking.

Johannes Roberts suicide bid is easily the biggest disappointment of the lot. He's a British fella with a few hits to his name, in particular the 47 Metres Down movies, which will be known to the shark stans. Haven't seen his Resident Evil movie from last year but I really have time for his sequel to The Strangers titled Prey at Night Once you get past it being a misguided sequel ignoring the originals slow brooding atmospheric scares and torture porn, you can appreciate it for what it is, one of the best slashers of the last few years. It's so lovably old school! My love for that flick, had me thinking Suicide Bid was a segment to look out for. Had I not been aware who it was directed by I would have said he's a total amateur. In this story a bunch of girls meet up and one of them has clearly seen Buried too much as she stupidly decides to spend a night in a coffin. Awfully shot and the scares are just laughable. Once again, I can't get past how the US shoots its demons. Give me the Japanese fuzzy lo fi methods every time.

Leave it to the phenomenal musician Flying Lotus to save this VHS sequel, providing the elite entry and winning horse. 'Ozzy's Dungeon' is Dick and Dom in Da Bungalow on acid. A twisted throwback to the kid shows I grew up on in the '90s and early 2000s like Gladiators and Raven. The beauty lies in how much time he dedicates to establishing his chosen aesthetic. At first, I was like wow so you've proved to me you know your source material and you can recreate its look, something most directors fail at. But could you take it that one step further and do something interesting with it? Yes, he absolutely can as an act of gory violence causes us to go in to torture porn and revenge mode.

Those who caught Fly Lo's Kuso back in 2017, you will be acquainted with the particular brand of gross movie he's been trying to construct. A move away from the cringe comedy Animal House. The movie which first blended it with frat houses and led to teensploitation like American Pie and EuroTrip. His package is a lot less commercial and strives for midnight movie acceptance. Raw, shocking and transgressive art which takes nods from John Waters's Pink Flamingos, as well as body horrors such as Society, Tetsuo and Freaked. Maybe even a dose Frank Henenlotter and Troma movies. Expect puss squirting, faecal matter and blood to burst across the screen in abundance. The piss and shit abject art separating them from the blood splatter films like Blood Feast and Evil Dead 2. Make no mistake they are utterly disgusting works but in this territory, the grosser the better.

Difficult to score some of these highly, due to their unpleasant and downright foul nature but with Kuso, despite being a bit hit and miss, Mr Lotus clearly has a few talents in this department. His competition is former Tromaville employee James Gunn. Comparing the two reveals how they are on completely different paths. Gunn is sneaking his antics in to popular superhero franchises such as Guardians of the Galaxy and The Suicide Squad. I'm genuinely excited at the prospect of him taking over DC's output. Under his direction, it is as though we have a man on the inside, one of our own. A perverted maniac. He's an auteur finding success in the studio model and fair play to him. His unique humour still shines through on those increasingly bland superhero blockbusters. The fake leg gag in the first Guardians movie being a classic example of something unmistakably his snuck in the picture. Easily the best superhero director right now because he manages to make them his own.

Alternatively, Flying Lotus is bringing it back to the low budget roots with a more in your face, it is what it is, unavoidable style. His segment in VHS '99 refines his artistry even further and is a move towards being able to do something really special with it. Apparently, at the films premiere, it was this section that received the most laughs and stole the show. Deservedly so, it is the clear winner. Looking forward to what this guy has up his sleeve for us next. Hopefully, he continues to retain those jazzy wonky beats that make his images even freakier and truly individualistic.

Tyler Macintyre's 'The Gawkers' is the biggest surprise of VHS '99. Yet to see his Tragedy Girls but will have to seek it out after this. Was meant to be pretty well liked. He rehashes some of Bruckner's frat boy piss take. It lacks some of the wit with the technology but it eerily mirrors that scene in American Pie when they try to spy on the stunning Nadia. No game changer but very funny, especially just seeing the perverted dudes getting up to no good in a hangout way.

'To Hell and Back' causes VHS '99 to go out on a real low. A sequence directed by the Winter siblings, who's recent Deadstream was lauded by horror fans. Their participation in VHS '99 is an incoherent version of Dante's Inferno demonstrating the worst of found footage when people run around screaming without any trace of a script or idea. Truthfully, I don't rate Deadstream too highly either but I can see why people were calling that the Evil Dead 2 of the found footage genre. Doesn't quite reach its full gonzo potential but it's one man showmanship is admirable and the influencer culture satire proved funnier and more effective than Spree. No idea, what they were going for on 'To Hell and Back' and it brings very little too the table.

Unlike previous entries, the bad definitely outweighs the good on this year's VHS movie. Yet I ask that you forget this in a way because my support of the series has not faltered. Even acknowledging this as mostly a misfire doesn't change the fact these remain an effective way of locating new talent. This time allowing us to see more of Flying Lotus's developing style. It's pure grassroots that you can't ever lose touch with. Hence why I don't care how many sequels to VHS or ABC's of Death they make. I don't care how many dreadful segments I have to sit through. Keep them coming!

Not long after those credits I get a call from Long Tall Sally asking if I was still going this Halloween party. let her know I'd make it but I would be leaving early as I had my outdoor cinema job the next day up in Castleton. As any reader knows, when you say those words it never actually happens. In fact, you're better off just not saying those words. Regardless, the idea was to have a few drinks and get back early, so with that in mind when that Friday came I set of with those intentions. On the way, I get a text from Bonehead Bill asking if I was out tonight. "Absolutely not", I replied and continued on to my destination.

As I head on up to the gaff, an unfortunate sorry son of a bitch is throwing up in to a neighbour's bin and so I know I must be in the right place. The guilty party looks up at me awkwardly, possibly mistaking me for a neighbour. I flash him a quick toothy smile and thumbs up then proceed to enter the establishment to await what further horrors are in store for me this evening. Our hotel porter over here resumes the technicolour yawn. Oh, what fine hospitality.

Upon entering the abode, it dawns on me these guests are young and I don't have a clue who any of them are. Jesus, was I now that older guy floating round at the university house parties. Is the mid 20's too old for that shit or is this still socially acceptable? What's the cut off for that? To avoid that whirlwind of bottomless thoughts, I decided it was time to look for Long Tall Sally immediately.

This proved to be a difficult task. I was suddenly assaulted by a sea of pirates. Everywhere the eyes gazed there were picaroons dressed from head to foot in stripy loose fitting shirts, spotted bandanas, fake beards, neatly tied sashes and armed with children's cutlasses. What could have provoked such a unified landslide costume choice? There was not a new Pirates of the Caribbean movie was there? I would have known cause somewhere Mark Kermode would have been rattled and me and my boy Balthazar Marie would have been in the cinema doing lines off chairs with our cocks out singing, "Shiver my timbers, shiver my soul" whilst trying to follow the unnecessarily convoluted plot. Yes, me and Balthazar are huge pirate fans.

One time I recall being at this gathering. Not too many of us, an intimate thing. Suddenly, we run out of the Bolivian Marching Powder but we're all having a good time and want to continue. The tradesperson is being typically unreliable and so the host suggests switching to ketamine. That was the only thing there and available. Now I don't know how you feel about the special K but I hate it. It is a stupid drug that makes people do stupid things. The last time I'd messed with that shit I was walking home like Tom Cruise runs. So generally I try to avoid it... but as I said we were having a good time and didn't want the night to be over so quickly. Well I finally made it back to mine on the Sunday. My chest was wheezier than that penguin from Toy Story. My voice was completely gone from talking pirate. My joints ached from all hands on deck. What had happened during those Hallucinatory hours? I checked my Last.FM for some indication of where the evening had gone musically. There was something that stood out instantly. One song had been played repeatedly. Between the hours of 7.29AM and 9.20AM, 'He's a Pirate' from the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack was played non stop, no less than 32 times. I can't even begin to imagine the idiocy of those 2 hours but I would guess it was something like in part 3 when Captain Jack is trapped in Davey Jones's locker. Did we really turn a living room in to the Black Pearl? I return to my original statement that Ketamine is a stupid drug that makes people do stupid things.

Even my own son, The Impossible Kid opted to go for the pirate outfit this year. First he spoke about going as a "pumpkin" but then he changed his mind to a "skeleton". Had to be like "Hey Weng Weng. You can't do that surely. You went as a skeleton last year". Cheekily he replies, "Yeah that's cause I have noBODY to go with". The kids a joker. Could see there was no talking him out of his skeletal inclinations and said, "Funny huh? Anyway, you do you. Keep it real, son" before leaving out the door. Spontaneously on the big night, my man rocks up in full pirate gear. They say the town was recoiling in fear because a 3 foot Captain Barbossa was knocking on doors trick or treating.

Back to the Halloween party of 2022, I was still looking for Long Tall Sally. Decided to ask one of the pirates if they'd seen her. The wanker pulls out a compass from his pocket and says, "I don't know sport, my north hasn't been working as of late". His friends laugh along with him as he smiles mocking me. Maintaining firm eye contact, I sarcastically laughed straight back at him. The room fell silent and I continued my search elsewhere. These guys couldn't help me. They were not normal costumed party goers. These were Davey Jones's Dead Men. Had I stayed any longer in there they'd have sentenced me to three life times of hard labour aboard The Flying Dutchman. Was I ever going to find LTS?

Finally, I found LTS and I soon wished I hadn't, you see the seasoned hellion was wearing black gloves, a white shirt under a black apron and to top it off stood menacingly with a needle in her hand. "No. No. No" I say before attempting to make an exit. She walks on over and asks, "are you ready for this?" "Absolutely not", I quickly throw back at her. Without listening to me she slowly pulls out a piece of wire from her pocket and stretches it just inches away from my eyeballs. Was I scared? I was terrified. She seemed to be getting off on her own sick insanity and Jacob Kelly torture fantasies. Remind me never to fall out with that woman. Some women know only pain.

"You had to do it, did you? You had to come as the bird from Audition. The scariest woman of them all", I said. The response I got from this was so disturbing I'm not even going to write it. Just know it was along the lines of all men deserving to suffer and that it was the time of woman. Yes, I was given a lecture on man hating and how we were all going to get it. Normally, I'd have replied with something silly to wind her up like in the words of James Brown, 'It's a Man's, Man's World'. Yet, standing there all imposing with a big fuck off needle in her hands, something told me that it wasn't such a good idea. Now was not the time to be stirring angry feminists. As we danced, she kept tapping down on the top of the needle, as though reminding everyone any time she could use it. I couldn't help but notice a crazed look in her eye. This woman was mad no doubt about it.

Eventually, she asks, "just what the hell have you come as anyway?". Told her unless she was acquainted with 1910s French serials she probably shouldn't ask any further questions. LTS took this as an excuse for hostility and came at me with that big needle of hers. I was chased round the room and may have damaged a few household items in my struggle. Sorry to the host if you are reading this. I probably cannot afford to pay for the damages but I assure you, I'm very friendly and owe you a stern handshake and a drink sometime.

Told LTS to, "back off or I will palm you, bitch. Palm to the nose. That's an instant kill. It worked for Nicolas Cage in Con Air, it can work for me!". Shamelessly, I threw a defenceless woman on crutches who's name I didn't know in to the kill zone to avoid a deadly attack from that big ass needle. Didn't even look back as I sprinted in to another room. Not today! Wasn't taking any chances. LTS had clearly gone mad with power. The costume had taken over her. Apologies to the woman on crutches that found herself to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and is now possibly dead.

Moving towards the kitchen, careful to avoid Davey Jones's Dead Men, I chuckled, noticing a lone man stood in the corner with his back to me. He was dressed in full cassock and sunglasses, unmistakably trying to be Jim Jones. The fella looked rather mysterious and even more out of place than I was at this university house party. Couldn't quite get a proper look at him because he was hunched over the sink. Something struck me as odd though. Wait a minute, I'd seen this behaviour before. This guy was robbing drinks. Out of respect for his whole act, I walked over with a smile on my face, ready to surprise this guy and say, "Love the outfit, pal". Before the words could leave my mouth, the man turned round and I realised I was staring straight in to the eyes of Bonehead Bill.

"Fuck off, what are you doing here, lad?", I asked him politely. "was about to say the same", he replies. Asked him if he was robbing beers. He confirms. "Pass one then", I said relieving the tension slightly. Casually, he hands me a cold one over and leans back against the sink. "So ... I thought you weren't doing anything for Halloween?", inquires Bonehead. "Mmm... last minute thing. Sally said come down", I managed to add quickly and unconvincingly, scratching the back of my head. "Yeah, Yeah", replies Bonehead knowingly, shaking his head. I try not to laugh and fire back, "what about you?" "I was in the neighbourhood", answers Bonehead casually. Thought about that for a moment and decided to move on. Made reference to his Reverend Jim Jones outfit and how we might need to have a word about this. Could be a little too outrageous going to gaffs dressed as the man who arguably slaughtered 909 people. 304 of which were children.

He informs me his original idea was to come as Willie Dynamite in full blackface. Says he had "the coat, the hat, everything. Wasn't quite lamb but close enough" "Without even touching on the obvious here, what has Willie Dynamite got to do with Halloween?", I asked puzzled. "Alright who you supposed to be, punk?", he follows up rapidly avoiding the question. Not too sure when he started calling people punk but I let him know I'd come as a "Vampire. The head vampire to be precise". For some reason Bonehead instantly rejects this saying, "Na. Na. What vampires wear turtle necks and a balaclava, I must have missed that Dracula movie". Set him straight on the subject informing him, "No. Not that kind of vampire. As in Les Vampires. The French 1915 silent serial". "Oh fuck off, Kelly", he retorts angrily. "What?", I added defensively.

Bonehead proceeds to go on a long winded one. Saying something like, "Kelly, I have put up with a lot of shit from you. First it was the 50s creature features. Then the French New Wave. And then came the porn. A lot of people gave up on that. But I stuck by you. From this obsession to that obsession. And now this. Silent films from like...300 years ago. Lad, they couldn't even speak then. This is all I can take, man. I've had it up to here. This is the final straw. When does it fucking end? Can't you just like be normal? Get a grip. Get a fucking grip, Kelly!". In a moment of madness, he launches his beer in to the floor and storms off outside. Davey Jones's Dead Men glance on over to see what the commotion is and I'm just giggling to myself.

How had this happened? I'd been insulted by Davey Jones's Dead Men, viciously attacked by the bird from Audition and Reverend Jim Jones had just given me his most damning sermon. Honestly, if I was going to survive this night, I was going to go down in the history books as the greatest final boy since that fella in Hostel. To up my chances, I decided I needed to get one of my three attackers back on my side. Since, I didn't want to see that needle again and Davey Jones's Dead men were fucking geeks, I felt my chances of survival lay in the hands of Bonehead Bill. As always, for better or worse, I was drawn to my partner in crime. Our paths inexplicably crossed for the time being. Fate kept placing us together and as Gerard Butler said in Law Abiding Citizen, "You can't fight fate"

Grabbed two more beers and headed on outside to make peace with my agitated accomplice. We sink a few cold ones and Bonehead hits me with his theory that Creedence Clearwater Revival are the best band of all time. Honestly, he brings this up whenever he's had a few to drink. It's neither something revelatory or new in his thinking. The worst part is every time, I have to get dragged up in it so I'm the real loser. Each time I explain, "Look chief. We've all got our favourite bands. Mine is Electric Wizard. Yours is clearly Creedence Clearwater Revival. But we both know the best of all time is The Beatles. Ok so maybe I'll allow Kraftwerk or Radiohead but it's definitely not Creedence".

Not taking no for an answer, Bonehead comes back with, "The Beatles? Ha! The Beatles aren't even the second best band of all time". "Who's that then?", I ask. You know who he came back with? Deep Purple. For fuck sake.

Around this time, we began noticing people climbing on the roof of the house. Apparently, the view from the top across the city is meant to be stunning. Being the view appreciators that we are, without a word of dialogue or second thought, we instinctively stood up and headed over to where they were climbing up. Took a bit of effort and I nearly slipped a couple of times but it was all worth it. No word of a lie that view was really something. We sat back and took it in with a few more drinks. Bonehead even pulled out a couple of cigars that he'd been saving.

Numerous people began piling up on that roof but it was fairly spacious. Bonehead Bill decides to hit me with a question, "Do you know who the greatest solo artist of all time is?". I sighed but since he did bring the cigars, I humoured him, replying, "Go on". "Roy Orbison", he declares. My response is not really an intelligible word but more a sound like "ooooooo" and I klink drinks with Bonehead Bill in approval.

After about our sixth round of singing, 'Pretty Woman', having exhausted 'In Dreams', 'You Got It' and 'I Drove All Night', we had another look out across the city. It was at this point, I noticed our disagreeable foes arriving, those Nope loving pseudo intellectuals. I turned to Bonehead and said, "Oh no, The Pseuds have arrived" "What? Speak English Kelly!", piped up Bonehead. "Those two who couldn't get enough of Jordan Peele's Nope", I explained. Upon hearing this, Bonehead stands up and walks over for a look. "They're chatting about that A24 film Men. That was shite that hahaha. No way they're calling it the next big development in elevated horror. More like the death of A24 with that kind of unintentional parody", I said. "Alex Garland's a fucking fraud who needs to be pulled from the director's chair before it's too late. Also anyone chatting about elevated horror is asking to get their asses kicked. Which one's their car?", replied Bonehead.

No sooner had I pointed this out, Bonehead Bill made his move off the roof and towards the car. Asked him what he was going to do as I followed after him and he kept repeating, "CSR" "What? Like CSI the TV Show?", I queried. He refused to explain what he had planned, leading me to step in front of him and stop the damn nutcase in his tracks. "Look, man. If we're about to do some shit, I'm not against it. Lord knows these fuckers deserve it. I just wanna know so I know if I need to move quickly after, ok?". Bonehead smiles and says, "CSR. Trust me". Then he proceeds closer to the parked vehicle, leaving me somewhere between frustrated and baffled at being kept in the dark on this one. I was about to say something about how we need to work on our team work but before I could, I look up and see Bonehead is standing on top of the Pseud's ride. He squats down over the open sun roof, pulls down his pants and drops a fresh turn in to the automobile. All I could think was sure Flying Lotus, you're pretty good but you've got a while to go until you become this generations greatest gross out artist. And in that moment, I realised what CSR meant. Chicago Sun Roof.