Best of Scream (2)
"This movie is so typical," Maureen Evans sighed as she and her boyfriend Phil Stevens entered the posh New York movie theater, which was decorated with dog skeletons all over. "I mean, when have you ever seen a horror movie with black dogs? They're all white or brown! We could be seeing Sandra Bullock instead."
"Unless she's walkin' a dog I don't wanna see that movie," Phil replied. "Come on, baby, it'll be fun."
Maureen sighed. "I hate scary movies."
The couple entered the screening room, where hundreds of other people sat, some wearing ghost masks and carrying fake plastic knives. The sound of dog barking could be heard faintly in the background, followed by muffled screams. Maureen looked around in confusion.
The audience cheered as the screen curtain lifted and the words "Stab the Dog" illuminated the screen. The scene opened with a blonde girl preparing to give her poodle a bubble bath.
"Now why does the dog have to be naked? What does that have to do with the storyline?" Maureen groaned.
The audience cheered as the blonde girl lifted her poodle and set it gently into the foaming water, stroking its curls. Suddenly, her phone rang, and she turned to it and sighed, lifting her dog back out of the water. The audience booed.
"Hello?" said the girl into the phone.
"What's your favorite chapter of the American Kennel Club?" the scary voice on the other line replied.
"Is this some kind of a game?" the blonde girl asked.
"Turn around," said the voice.
The girl's mouth trembled as she turned to face her predator, dressed in a black cape with a ghost mask over his face and a sharp knife glinting in his hand. "It's time to make doggie stir-fry!" he cackled, and stabbed the dog.
The audience screamed, and some of the ghost-faces began chasing around their friends, pretending to stab them.
"I'm going to get some more popcorn," Maureen told Phil as she removed her face from his shoulder. She stepped outside, trembling, and walked up to the concession stand.
"This movie is real," Maureen overheard a girl saying to a friend. "It really happened in Pennsylvania, at the Mayflower Dog Show last year."
Maureen ordered her popcorn and retreated back to the theater. She stood outside of the door, trying to collect herself. Suddenly she heard a loud "BOO!" and turned around to face a man dressed in a ghost mask.
Phil started laughing as he removed the mask. Maureen slapped him. "Why do you do that? You know I don't like scary movies!"
"I'm sorry, baby, I had to," he apologized half-sincerely. "I'm going to the bathroom."
Maureen found her seat in the theater. Five minutes later, Phil, still in his ghost mask, returned, and sat beside her.
"You want some popcorn?" she offered him, but he shook his head.
Just as the next victim fell prey to the killer on the screen, Phil whipped out a knife and stabbed Maureen in the stomach. She stumbled to the movie screen and, in front of the entire audience, let out a blood-curdling scream. Then she fell to her knees and died.
Twenty minutes later Phil was found in the bathroom, also stabbed. A killer was loose again.
Back in Pennsylvania, Sidney Prescott was preparing for a sorority party. Her mother, Maureen Prescott, a professional dog groomer, had been murdered last year at the Mayflower Dog Show. This year's show was coming up in just two weeks, and Sidney was feeling depressed. She glanced out her window and saw news reporter Gale Weathers standing next to her news van.
"I need a new cameraman!" Gale cried.
A man appeared behind her. "Hey! Gale Weathers! I read your book, The Mayflower Murders, and I think it's awesome."
"You're hired," Gale told him. "What's your name?"
"Huh?" He looked confused. "I'm Joel. Joel Jones."
"Good. Welcome to my team. You're my new cameraman and assistant news reporter." Gale shook Joel's hand and then shoved a huge steady cam into it. "Start filming, Mister. We're covering the Mayflower Dog Show."
The news was spreading around the dog owners about the killings at the Stab the Dog premiere. Meg Swan and her husband Hamilton were entering their Weimaraner Beatrice this year, and Meg was pacing about her hotel room frantically. "Hamilton, there's a killer on the loose! I don't want him to just go psycho on us! Does this turtleneck match my sweater?"
"Of course it does, sweetheart," Hamilton assured her, smiling and revealing his braces, identical to his wife's. "And don't worry. I'm sure everything will be fine. We have Gale Weathers on the job."
"If we don't beat those stupid shi-tzus this year..." Meg shook her fist.
Beatrice whined.
Cookie and Jerry Fleck loaded their Norwich terrier Winkie into their van and started the long drive up to Pennsylvania from Florida. "We believe Winkie is a real champion," Jerry reported to Gale Weathers, who was doing a spot on the dog show. "We just hope one of those no-good hoodlums doesn't murder us this time." He chuckled.
"Jerry!" Cookie scolded.
"Hey, you look familiar to me," Joel noted, putting down his camera.
"Leslie and I have so much in common," Sherri Ann Cabot reported of her decrepitated rich husband, who was sitting in a wheelchair beside her. "We like talking, and not talking, and soup, and peas. We could talk or not talk for hours!" she giggled as she stroked her poodle Butch. "This year I've found a really great handler, Christy Cummings. She knows so much about dogs."
"I could just eat her up," said Christy, snuggling into Sherri Ann.
Scott Donlan and Stefan Vanderhoof prepared their hotel room as their shi-tzu watched them from the corner. "We just feel so confident we're going to win this year," Scott confided to Gale. "It's just a shame about those murders last time that had to spoil it all."
"Terrible shame. Terrible shame," Stefan repeated. "We have some tough competition this year, but I think we can beat Christy and Sherri Ann if we really try."
"Man, why do we have to travel all over?" Joel complained, setting down the camera as he and Gale trekked through North Carolina to meet the final dog owner, Harlan Pepper, who owned a bloodhound named Hubert.
"Joel, this dog show is the most important show in the world this year. It's the most news-making even we've had since last year's murder! Now do you want a story or not?"
"Some other girl was killed yesterday at a sorority party," Joel replied. "Cici Cooper from Omega Beta Zeta. I heard Sidney Prescott was there. Don't you even care about these people?"
"Cici Cooper?" Gale repeated. "Is that her real name?"
"No, it's Casey," Joel informed her.
"There's a pattern!" Suddenly the idea struck Gale. "Maureen Evans, Maureen Prescott. Phil Stevens, Orth. Casey Cooper, Casey Becker. These were all the people that were killed last year. The murderer is trying to replicate the killings!"
"Then who's next?" Joel asked.
"Another dog owner, I'll bet," Gale replied. "The dog show is in just a week."
"Good thinking," said Joel. "I never would have thought of that." He stalked off.
"Gale?"
Gale spun around and saw Sidney Prescott standing there.
"Sidney!" said Gale, hugging the girl.
"Get your hands off of me, Gale Weathers," Sidney threatened. "I know what you're trying to do. You're just trying to stir up trouble."
"What are you doing here?" Gale continued.
"I read your book, Gale. The one that says Cotton Weary didn't murder my mother? Well, I don't believe a word of it."
"Sidney! Sidney, wait," Gale begged, but Sidney slapped her and ran off.
That night, Harlan Pepper was killed. Hubert was found on the side of the road, howling. He was picked up by a farmer and used to herd sheep.
"This is big," said Gale. "Now we know a killer is on the loose."
"Would you get over it?" Joel asked her. "I thought we were here to report the news, not make it."
"Too late. We have to find out who that killer is," said Gale determinedly.
The week passed, and no one else was murdered, but a sense of tension still hung in the air as the dog owners prepared for the big competition.
"This is Gale Weathers reporting live at the Mayflower Kennel Club dog show," Gale Weathers announced professionally from behind her desk.
"And I'm Joel, her assistant," Joel added, poking his head into the camera view. For once, he didn't have to hold the camera, and he was happy about that.
"The first round of the show has commenced," Gale added, "and so far Norwich terrier 'Winkie Fleck' is in the lead!"
Suddenly a scream was heard from the back of the auditorium and Cookie Fleck fainted away, dead. The fleeting image of a black cape and a ghost mask sailed across the camera screen.
"This cannot be good," said Joel.
Sidney Prescott ran up to Gale and Joel, panting. "You guys!" she cried. "This same thing happened last year! My mom's dog was winning, and then...and then..." Sidney broke down in tears.
"It's all right, sweetie," Gale comforted her.
"It's Cotton Weary!" Sidney screamed. "It has to be him. Who else would know?"
"Commercial break! Commercial break!" Gale shouted frantically, and several makeup artists rushed over to her to touch up her lipstick. When they were through, Gale looked to Sidney and said, "Cotton didn't kill your mother. Accept that."
At the end of the second round of the dog show, the killer struck again. This time Stefan fell dead. Sidney sobbed into Joel's arms.
"All right, that's it. We have to get to the bottom of this," Gale insisted. She stood up from behind her desk, but it was too late. The third round had begun.
Hamilton Swan walked Beatrice into the ring and confidently guided her up to the judge. "Walk her around, please," the female judge instructed. Before Hamilton had the chance, Beatrice pounced on the judge, nearly knocking her over.
"We're disqualifying your dog," the judge told Hamilton. "Please remove her from the ring."
Devastated that her dog had been disqualified, Meg paled at the back of the audience and stormed out of the room.
As soon as the third round was over (and Sherri Ann had been knocked off), Gale traipsed into the grooming room for a probing behind-the-scenes look at the Mayflower Dog Show.
"This is the place where all the action happens," Gale said into her microphone. "And this is the place where we should discover the ultimate secret..." Haunting music droned in the background. "The killer!" Gale flung her arms dramatically and nearly dropped her microphone. She composed herself and walked toward the kennels, then stopped when she noticed something sitting on a chair. A costume. A ghost-face costume! Gale picked it up and examined it, sniffing the robe. "Blood," she said. "It's the killer's outfit."
Meg Swan emerged from the restroom and looked at Gale. Her face vaguely conveyed horror, and then she flashed her shining braces at the camera.
"Wait! Meg!" cried Gale, sticking the microphone under Meg's mouth. "How do you feel about the murders?"
"Shut up!" Meg begged, and broke down, hugging Gale's knees. "All right, I admit it, I did it to get back. Don't take me to jail!"
"Cut," Gale demanded sharply, throwing down her microphone. Police appeared behind her and handcuffed Meg, dragging her away.
"Wait a minute. This is the biggest news story of the year and you don't want to be in the spotlight? Is there something wrong with you?" Joel wanted to know.
"Be quiet. I'm going to find Sidney Prescott," Gale replied sharply, and strode off confidently.
"Gale!" Sidney wrapped her arms around the news reporter. "I heard about what you did. Thank you so much!"
"It was nothing," said Gale.
Sidney and Gale sat down in the stadium seats just in time to watch Winkie the Norwich terrier win. Jerry was sad that his wife had just died, but he was happy to get the prize money and recognition.
"Let's just hope it doesn't happen again next year, because then I'll be the one to go!" he chuckled as flash cameras snapped in his face.
Cotton Weary approached Sidney and said, "I'm sorry about all that's happened."
"That's all right," Gale said for Sidney, pushing the girl aside. "To reward you, I'm giving you your own television show!"
"Stay tuned," Cotton chuckled, and walked away.
Not Exactly to be Continued...