20

What Is In The Cellar?

Spencer was sure that life would be much easier if Floyd would stop contradicting himself. It was something he did though along with the constant lies and the continual abuse. He did it so often and with such ambivalence that Spencer didn't think Floyd even knew he was doing it. The lies used to be almost harmless. They were to make Floyd feel better about himself. He slipped into denial and nothing could drag him out of it, but this was different. He was saying he could help Sam and then saying he needed to remove his head, but that was just one thing. He would offer Spencer Sam for his own use and then get annoyed if he thought Spencer actually wanted what was offered. He was now both being told to carry Sam downstairs and in the next breath screaming abuse because Spencer had dared touch Sam.

'I have to touch him if I'm going to carry him!' Spencer shouted back.

'Then wrap him in something.' A snarled response. 'I don't want your filthy hands touching him.'

As Spencer wrapped the body carefully in a blanket he asked another question. 'Why do you need him back downstairs again?'

'It's where the fucking cellar is you moron.' Floyd was pacing but still keeping an eye on what Reid was doing with Sam. 'You know if you touch him I'll smell it. I'll smell him on you. I'll smell you on him.'

Reid wanted to tell Floyd that if he will go around sniffing people he's going to smell things he doesn't like and maybe that's a habit he needed to curtail, but he didn't bother. He needed very much to escape from this situation somehow alive and by arguing that was going to diminish his chances a lot. He couldn't place an actual statistic on it but he guessed it was around ninety nine point nine percent chance of death if he made a fuss about this. 'I wont touch him.' Spencer told Floyd and he really didn't want to. The flesh was cooling. Sam's lips had gone from the original blue hue to a horrible bloodless white. He carefully covered the face over and then slipped his hands under Sam and lifted him limply from the bed. There was a smear of blood on the sheets Sam had been laying on, but Spencer avoided looking too hard at it and then tried to push it to the back of his mind. He knew he'd never forget it, but he would do what Floyd was trying to do with whatever was inside of him and push it away. It was an unwanted and un-needed image. At least that's what he considered for now. Floyd walked in front.

'Mind your fingers don't slip and slide up where Sam would want them.' Floyd told him.

'They wont.' But Spencer moved his hands away from Sam's butt and adjusted how he was carrying him just in case Floyd thought he would. Just to stop Floyd's accusations which Spencer thought would arrive soon anyway whether he did something as vile and unthinkable as fingering Sam's corpse or not. They exited the bedroom and walked slowly down the stairs. The treads creaked and moaned with each footfall and Spencer wasn't happy that he couldn't hold the hand rail. He had a feeling that the stairs would suddenly disappear and become a slippery ramp. Floyd walked in front as they slowly descended but Reid could see that something was wrong; at least more wrong than things already were. Floyd had his hands in tight fists and his head was cocked slightly to the side. He was sniffing the air like a dog picking up on a scent. Floyd was two treads from the bottom when he stopped and went into a crouch – not quite sitting on the step above. He gave Spencer a cutting gesture as though to silence him. And then the hammering started on the door. It made Spencer jump slightly but it made Floyd's head scream in agony. His fists went to the side of his head and he started making an odd almost keening sound from somewhere deep inside.

'What? Who is it?' Spencer whispered and again got the cutting gesture from Floyd. 'I cant stand here like this.' Reid hissed.

'Shut the fuck up!' Floyd hissed back at him.

'Hello?' A voice called from the other side of the door. A normal voice. Normal in as much as it didn't sound like a demon who'd been ripped right from hell. The door handle moved and the noise Floyd was making increased not in volume so much as in what Spencer thought sounded like distress.

'Get the fuck out!' Floyd shouted as someone appeared in their hallway. 'You're not invited. Get the fuck out of my house!'

Spencer stood a few treads above Floyd with Sam wrapped in a blanket. 'Can we help you?' He spoke more in a moan than a real voice.

'I'm Father Morris.' The man said. 'I'm here to help.'

Spencer wanted to ask him to go away and come back another time, but he also wanted to run to him and give him a hug and beg him never to leave. This was the priest Sam was going to Spencer suspected. The body resting in his arms suddenly felt very heavy. 'One minute.' Reid finally managed to say. He manoeuvred down the last few steps and handed Sam over to Floyd who fairly snatched Sam from his arms and held him in close. He was still though making those peculiar noises. 'Wait there.' Spencer said to Floyd and wiping his hands which suddenly felt slick with sweat he walked with great caution to the priest. 'Is there something you wanted?' Reid asked.

'A young man came to see me. He asked for help.'

Floyd made a low groaning sound.

Spencer tried a smile but it made his face hurt and so he gave up trying. 'We…' He gestured behind himself. '… could maybe do with some help…'

'Spence you fucking cunt! Don't…'

Reid carried on. '…You know the history which goes with this property?' Spencer enquired.

'I know the stories, which is why I'm here. I have information which might be of use to you, but I don't know how involved I want to get in this… this matter.'

'I need you to fucking get out of my house.' Floyd snapped.

Spencer nodded. 'Your help might be needed. If you have the information we require. If you understand the situation.' The priest was attempting to look around or through Spencer to get a better look at Floyd. Reid turned and looked at the man he'd missed so much and saw not that person but some kind of monster who'd taken his place. He pulled a cheroot from his pocket and quickly lit it with his disposable lighter and took it over to Floyd whose hands seemed to be shaking. 'He can help.' Spencer hissed to him. 'What's to lose?'

'Lives.' Floyd replied, but took the cheroot and started a manic puffing on it. 'And sanity.'

Believing that sanity was lost a long time ago Spencer turned back to the priest. 'In the cellar. We were going to the cellar.'

'Ah.' Said the priest.

'Tell him to fuck the fuck off.' Said Floyd.

'This way.' Spencer ignored Floyd and took hold of the priest's arm. It felt oddly comforting. It felt almost as though my touching the priest he's formed a bubble of invulnerability around him self. It was foolish he knew, but he sucked up the comfort like a man who'd had no water for a month. Floyd slowly stood and followed at a distance muttering under his breath about ripping entrails and nibbling on warm body parts. Spencer could hear him and tried to talk to the priest to distract him from what was going on behind.

'We know that there's a curse.'

'It's not a fucking curse you slag.' Floyd's voice cut in.

'We know that there's a curse.' Spencer repeated. 'Please ignore him. He's drunk… We know that a priest was here before. There are holy wafers in the cellar. If you can help… maybe try in interpret what was going on? Do you have a name?'

'Father Morris.'

Spencer shook his head. 'I meant a name for the demon we are dealing with.'

'Spencer you're going to fucking regret this when I'm tearing your throat out with my teeth.' A hissing voice from behind them.

'I know the name of the demon.'

There was a thumping sound just as they reached the cellar door. Spencer and Morris turned to see that Floyd had dropped Sam – or the bundle to the floor. A pale arm slipped from under the blanket and a foot stuck out of the end. 'Well excuse me.' Floyd snapped at them both. 'Please don't let me stop you from going in the cellar. If you don't mind though I'll give it a miss. I've been down there. Not somewhere I want to go back to. See to this Spence Babes will you? I'm going to get a drink and maybe go for a long walk. Nice meeting you Fr Morris, very nice, but you're making me want to puke up every morsel of food that's ever passed my lips and I think it will make a mess, so good bye. Have fun. Spencer?'

'We need you to come with us Floyd.' Spencer walked forwards trying to kick Sam's hand back under the cover. 'You need to come back down into the cellar. We had plans. Things to do remember? I cant do those things alone. An axe? A knife?' Spencer bent down and covered Sam's foot. It's not that he wanted to encourage Floyd to get an axe or to remove Sam's head, but he needed to keep Floyd on track and with them. He kept his voice down hoping that Morris wouldn't understand what was being said and Morris seemed very interested in the door they were standing in front of. He was rubbing his hands together and then scratching at his neck and licking his lips. Fr Morris could feel something. He wasn't sure exactly what it was he could feel, but it was tingly and maybe even exciting. He reached out and touched the door with his finger tips.

'He knows the fucking name.' Floyd hissed at Spencer. 'Do you know what'll happen if he does the wrong thing? Do you have any notion of the damage he can cause? I suspect that the other fucking priest started this mess and he's going to just make it worse. He cant help Spence. He'll end up dead and we'll end up just as dead.'

Reid reached for Floyd and pulled him close almost tripping him over Sam. 'It cant get worse than it already is and if we don't accept his assistance we are both going to be dead anyway. Do you want that thing controlling you? Do you want something ordering you around and forcing you to do things like you did to Sam? Do you really want that?'

'No… no of course not.' Floyd glanced down at Sam. 'However…'

'Pick Sam up and bring him down to the cellar. I have a feeling he's going to be needed in some fashion. I don't want to think about exactly what but the three and now four of us are here for a reason and we have to stay together. Sam was led to get a priest. You tried to stop him.'

Floyd shook his head. 'I didn't try Spence. I succeeded.'

Now Spencer gestured to the priest who had his hand on the door handle. 'No you didn't succeed because the priest is here. You failed. Now pick him up and don't fail again.' Reid's words carried more confidence than he was feeling.

'I'll kill the motherfucking priest.' Floyd said between clenched teeth. 'I'll fucking kill him.'

Spencer said nothing but pointed down at Sam and then turned his back on Floyd. He paused waiting for the hand to grab him and readied himself for impact on the back of the head, but he heard a soft moan from Floyd as he picked Sam up again. 'Ok Fr Morris. If you're sure about this.'

'Never been so sure about something in my life.' He crossed himself and pulled open the cellar door.

Reid spoke before the priest could go further. 'I think it would be a wise idea to let Floyd go first.' The wisdom being that Spencer really didn't fancy being shoved from behind or having a body hurled at him when walking down the wooden steps leading down to the cellar. Floyd grumbled and hissed between his teeth as the priest nodded and stepped out of the way.

'You're going to have to learn to trust me.' Floyd thought that was fairly reasonable and Spencer thought it completely unreasonable considering what Floyd had in his arms. 'But sure, I'll go first if it will stop you pissing yourself in panic.' He adjusted how he was carrying Sam and again an arm dropped out from under the covering. Spencer lifted the pale slightly warm hand and frowned as he covered it again. Something was niggling at the back of Spencer's mind but he put it down to the fear he was feeling about going down into the cellar for the first time, even though Floyd had said that there was nothing down there – Spencer thought he knew otherwise. Floyd walked down slowly into the darkness, but Spencer pulled the light cord at the top of the stairs which caused a dull flickering light from down at the bottom and a slight buzz from the strip lighting which Spencer thought looked as though it would really rather not be there; as though the light it self didn't want to see what was there.

Floyd moved across the floor and deposited Sam over by the wall. Reid and Morris stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked around. The room which looked to be about twenty foot square had a low ceiling which was only just high enough for Spencer not to have to duck down a bit. The walls had maybe once been painted white. The floor was bare concrete. There was a dreadful oppressive feel to the room and a smell of damp old death with maybe a touch of fear, which Reid thought maybe was wafting from his own pores. The walls were covered in splatters of blood which looked as though it had been spread around by fingers or hands. There was blood sprayed over the ceiling and in places it was puddled onto to floor. There was writing also this was what Floyd had said they must not look at and Spencer could see that Floyd was looking down at his toes and avoiding looking at the mess around him. There were also a few candles which looked as though they'd not burnt for long and a couple of holy wafers sitting next to a particularly big splat of blood. Floyd moved back to where he'd left Sam and crouched, placing an almost protective hand over the bundle he'd placed there and if Spencer didn't know otherwise he may have believed that it was a protective hand, but he knew otherwise. Floyd then sat with his back to the wall and pulled Sam still wrapped in the blanket onto his lap and began again to make that odd keening sound which seemed to be louder here in the confined space. Morris was looking at the writing over the walls and so now that Spencer knew that Floyd was settled he moved in next to the priest.

'Don't read it.' He told him softly. 'It's some kind of summoning I think.' Though Reid had been avoiding looking at them, that was what Floyd had told him the writing was and so he was warning Morris.

Morris shook his head and knelt on the floor next to the wafers. He then pulled out a small silver coloured box with angelic engravings on the lid. 'Protection.' He muttered to Spencer and then reached for his hand and pulled in to kneel next to him. 'In the box – holy wafers and water.' Floyd moaned a bit louder at this and said something about needing to puke. Spencer glanced at him and then looked back at the priest.

'Do you have prayers to counter what's on the walls?' Spencer asked as he watched the priest open the small silver box.

'You talk as though I'm a witch and you want magic spells. It doesn't work that way – and as I said the writing on the wall is not dangerous. They are prayers. They're protective.'

Reid looked at Floyd again who had slipped his hands under the blanket and was very obviously stroking Sam. 'You said…'

'Fuck what I said. Fuck it all. You believe him over me?'

'I think so.' Spencer had two cheroots in his pocket. He pulled one out and offered it unlit to Floyd. 'You need this?'

Floyd shook his head. 'Whatever the pair of you are going to do – get on with it. The floor is damp and you know what sitting on cold damp surfaces does to your arse don't you? Apart from making it cold and damp… Get on with it while I still have a small amount of control here.'

Reid stared at Floyd. He could hear him speaking and it sounded like the Floyd he knew (and loved?) but there was still that odd keening noise going on. He carried on watching Floyd as the priest laid out the few things he'd brought with him. Floyd pulled a blood smeared hand out from under the covers and began licking at it.

'He's got a nose bleed.' Floyd said to Spencer's puzzled face. 'I knew a witch called Laura. Do you remember Laura Spence? I don't know if you will or not, but anyway she knew the herbs. She was good at this protection shit. I don't think a poxy priest is going to have a lot of hope to pull forward and then expel what's inside my head.' Floyd looked down at the blanket and pulled a face at it and then tipped it off his lap. 'Fucker's pissed himself.' Floyd muttered.

Spencer was going to race over there and see what the hell was going on. Sam couldn't be bleeding or emptying his bladder. He was dead. That sort of thing would have either happened or stopped hours ago. Reid looked down at his hands and then over at Floyd. He was thinking about how Sam's hand had felt warm to touch, how there was blood in the bed, how Floyd seemed to be making a lot of noises which had Spencer not known better would have thought were coming from Sam. He opened his mouth to say something, but the priest drew back Spencer's attention by pulling on his arm.

'I have some bibles.' He said to Spencer. 'Take one to your friend. We can read aloud together.'

Reid though shook his head. 'I don't think that's going to work. My friend wont do that. He's sort of…' Spencer wanted to say that Floyd was agnostic, but he wasn't, it was something else Floyd was. '…not a believer in…' But that was wrong too because Floyd was a believer. 'He's… he wont…' Reid shrugged. 'He's against organised religion.' He finally said. That seemed the best way to say it without actually saying that Floyd batted for the other team.

'Very well. If you'd like some form or protection then it's available.' The priest looked over at Floyd who looked as though all colour had drained from his face. Floyd shook his head.

'I've all the protection I need right here.' He pulled back the blanket to reveal Sam who had blood smeared over his face and lips and the odd keening sound seemed to be suddenly louder.

'Can you comfort him?' The priest was trying not to show his alarm that the thing Floyd had been lugging around was the lad who'd come to his house asking for help. Help which he'd initially refused.

Spencer stood. He felt his hair brushing against the low ceiling and he would have smacked his head on it if he'd jumped up to his feet a bit harder. 'What the… what…? What the hell!'

'Well maybe you'll believe me in future when I say I can fix something?'

'But it's not possible!' Spencer walked over to Sam. He could see black bruising beginning to form over his neck where before there'd been nothing. He could see colour returning to Sam's lips. He could see behind the closed lids that Sam's eyes were flickering back and forth. 'He was dead!' Spencer shouted. 'I saw him! I felt… I felt him!'

'I'm sure you did. I knew you'd cop a feel when I wasn't paying attention. Now I suggest that you go back to good old Morris over there and blah blah blah some fucking words which you know as well as me wont work. I'm going to get that axe or a sharp knife. Don't mind me. Carry right on with your crap. It's not going to work. You know it's not going to work. The thing – who will remain nameless requires a sacrifice.'

Floyd stood and started to walk to the stairs.

'No!' Spencer was there pulling Floyd back. 'Don't be insane! You cant!'

The priest was muttering words under his breath which Spencer hoped were going to help and heal and comfort. He could hear Floyd's heavy breaths as though the words Spencer wanted for comfort were causing Floyd pain. 'Get the fuck off me Babes or it's your head I'm going to offer up.'

'He's alive!'

Floyd spun on Reid and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. Spencer felt his feet leave the ground as Floyd seemed to pick him up and push him back until Spencer's back was against the wall. 'You want it to be you? You're willing to give your life and damn your soul to an eternity of wandering and pain? You want what I have? You want to be something no one will ever like or want to be near? You want to be avoided and reviled and accused of shit you never did – or at least didn't mean to do? You really want to take his place? You want to be a filthy cunt who rubs his cock against any hard surface you can find? You want to dry hump fags and rent boys in back streets? You want to relieve the pain in your head by sticking needles in your arms? Is that what you want? You want to go from being the perfect fucking F fucking B.I. boy and Gideon's love and Aaron's little treasure to being a whore and a boy cunt whose only use is to drop his pants or give blow jobs? You want to be like Sam? You want me to arrange that for you?' He shook Spencer and moved his free hand to grip around Spencer's neck. 'You want to sacrifice yourself for that thing who doesn't have a reason to live apart from humping everything and anything he can find. Oh think what Derek Morgan would say… how would Emily feel when you rip her sweet little black silk panties away from her cunny and stick your fingers up her… or your raging red hot cock… how will they feel about you then Spencer?' He gave Spencer another small shake. 'Open your fucking eyes and listen to me! Are you going to try to tell me that you can resist the urges boiling away in your balls?'

Reid could feel an almost forgotten feeling of his life being crushed out of him by Floyd's hand. He wanted to answer. He wanted to give Floyd a sensible and reasonable reply but all he could manage to do was try to knee the man in the groin. It was something Spencer wouldn't have attempted a few years ago. He would have let this feeling of a slow choking death invade his mind and he would have allowed Floyd to continue with his rant, but not now. Things had changed. Spencer had coped with Floyd being away. He'd learnt how to keep himself safe knowing that there was no Floyd to come running to his aid if he got into trouble. He was not the same Spencer who Floyd had battered into submission. At least not totally the same Spencer. His knee made good contact. Unfortunately it had absolutely zero effect on Floyd and only made his squeeze tighter.

'Don't you fucking fight me you mother fucking slut! Try that again and your death is going to be long and painful.' He released Reid though and turned to the priest who was standing there holding up a small golden cross and muttering holy words at Floyd. 'Shut the fuck up you stupid arse. If you want to help then… Actually no. I think I know how you can help. Do you like boys Morris?'

Morris continued to mutter the words he knew by rote.

'Do you touch boys up Father? Do you like a bit of little boy cock in your hands?'

The words of protection continued.

'I've an idea. I've a wondrous idea. Spencer get to your fucking feet and don't you dare touch Sam. Leave him alone. He's sulking but he's got what he wanted. You happy with the results Sam? Are you happy that the priest is here muttering his filth at us? Is it making your head hurt as much as it is mine?' Floyd raced up the stairs, pulled the cross off the door and then raced back down again taking them two at a time. 'Sam got what he wanted. Spencer… well Spence Babes… is this what you wanted? Is this what you expected? Are we all happy with how this has turned out? This thing here…' Floyd waved the cross at the priest. '… has no power. The guy who put it there had nothing in his heart but greed and lust for things he couldn't have. He'd locked his mind away behind prayer and a false god in an attempt not to go out doing what he shouldn't. I cant tell exactly what that thing was but it doesn't feel lustful. I don't think he was of that breed. He feels like a drinker and gambler… maybe a thief…but it's irrelevant because whatever charms he placed down here… Are they called charms Father? Whatever they are he placed them but his heart was corrupt and they didn't work. They almost did though. I can feel the thing inside of me panicking so I do know at least that the other bloke was almost there, but now back to you. Are you pure of heart Father Morris? Do you fuck boys? Do you take money from the poor to put wine on your table? Do you wonder about what it would be like to fuck a nun? Do you secretly watch porn on your laptop? What's your vice Father Morris?'

The priest stepped towards Floyd. 'My vice is maybe a greater sin than those you're attempting to discredit me with. I know what's out there. I've seen it. I've felt it. It's why I've been sent here. My vice comes to me in the form of fear. You want my confession? Will that please you? You would like to know what dreadful things I harbour in my mind and secrete behind prayer and my undying belief in what I am? It's purely that I've seen beyond and I know what's there and yes that scares me. Yes I confess that I will sometimes come across someone who will make my skin crawl and my heart pound. I will hear something in the back of my head telling me to run… ordering me to get out while I can… but I stand firm. I have this…' He waved his cross at Floyd. '…and you might have a filthy mind and a disgusting mouth, but I have my faith and you…' Another wave of the golden cross. '…beings… people like you don't shake my foundations… they underpin them…they make them firmer, because all the time there are people like you walking the planet I know that what I believe in is The Truth. I wont be shaken by lesser beings when I have The Power of the Greatest living inside of me.'

'Has everyone lost their fucking minds?' Floyd bellowed. 'Spencer get over here now! Don't crawl! I'll assume you're going to blow me and I don't have fucking time for that now. Get on your damned feet and go over there with Sam. Keep him back. Hold him… hell fuck him if you feel you want to. Do anything but keep him the hell away from me or his brains are going to be mixed with who ever already made the mistake dear Morris here already made. Get over out of my way. Gag him… with your cock if you have to, but keep him quiet and don't let him start moaning that I killed him when obviously that's about as true as me… me… about as true as me never… never having… Cant think of something but you know what I mean? Good. Hold on tight. Now Father Morris are you going to shut the fuck up and let me do this, or are you going to stand there trying to repel me with your saintly verbal script? I don't care which, to be honest with you. Either way you're going to take the place of my Sam over there. I can live a life time without you in it, but I'm afraid that Sam's sort of precious. Especially on those nights when the wind is blowing and the snow is falling… oh a bit like tonight really, well as I was saying… on nights such as that or this, it's nice to have something small and hot rubbing against your arse or having an arse to rub my own heat against. You'd not understand that though would you? Do you masturbate Fr Morris? Do you get hot and hard when you read the words in that book? I'd imagine you would. Do you get the pages stuck together when you read about how he sacrificed himself or his kids or whatever to whomever? Does that excite you Morris? Do you get your cock out when you lay in bed thinking about your sermon? I'm sure you do… oh I can just imagine how you stand there with the lectern in front of you to conceal the filth going on in your mind. Don't try to dissuade me Morris. All men are the same. Their balls would explode if they didn't wank occasionally.

'But you're not a real man are you Morris. You're castrated… not physically but mentally. Not a real man, but still good enough for my purpose. You want insight into my purpose? Do you want to know why I'm going to consign you to the pits of hell? I could stand here all fucking day telling you every detail and just as I'm about to do what I'm going to do – and I'm actually not going to tell you – then the cavalry comes flying down the stairs and my evil plan will be thwarted. So I'd best get on with it. Spencer I can hear Sam crying. Give him a hug damnit. But not too much off a hug, or put your hand over his face and quieten him. Father Morris cant concentrate with Lazarus over there moaning like a fucking zombie. Right…' Floyd held onto the cross he'd taken off the door with both hands. It was hefty and made of wood. It would serve Floyd's purpose. 'Father Morris would you please kneel for me and avert your eyes. Let's not make this harder than it already is. I'm not talking about what I'm going to do but damn… priest killing always turns me into a rampant and rather wanton mother fucker and my balls are about to explode and I do believe I'm going to make a mess in my pants… kneel please if you don't mind and move it… faster… good boy. If you would like to shut the fuck up… that would help too, but you may if you wish carry on. It'll make no difference. Spencer why are you moving? Stay at the wall and keep Sam away from me before it's his brains I smash out of his skull and not the priest's… and ouch… sorry Morris. I've told what I'm going to do to you now. I hope you can cope with that. Morris… Before we start – are there any last words you'd like to make. A confession? A final prayer to your gods or god? A message to send onwards to someone who may or may not miss you? Anything? Nothing? Just a little mutter of anything?' Before the priest could reply and before he could look up to see what Floyd was going to do the heavy wooden cross came down on the back of the priest's neck. There was a horrible sickening crunching sound and the rest of what happened Spencer chose to pretend never happened.

Reid ignored the way Floyd ripped into the man and pulled flesh away from bone. He ignored the way Sam shuddered and twitched and seemed to convulse on his lap. He even ignored the animalistic screams Floyd was making as he tore out bits of priest and started to eat. He didn't listen to the way bone cracked, smashed, squelched. Flesh tore, ripped, splattered and those noises… that sound of sucking and moaning and Spencer put one arm over his head and pulled Sam closer with the other so that Sam was sitting on his lap facing him and pressed in tightly. Spencer thought that Floyd was screaming, but he wasn't sure. He didn't want to make sure either. He just sat and tried to pretend that he'd just been to see the most dreadful 3D movie ever made – one which seemed to have smell-o-vision too. Spencer felt right there with warm bits occasionally dripping onto him and with Sam (who should be dead) wriggling on his lap and with Floyd screaming in something mixed with ecstasy and pain… yes Spencer thought he had a right to not be ashamed to cry.