Halloween Resurrection Non-Fan Fiction

This is the face I made through the entire movie.

This is the face I made through the entire movie.

Thinking that I might have been too harsh on it in it’s initial release, I recently rewatched Halloween Resurrection. I was hoping it would be entertainingly bad; instead, it was so bad that my tv doesn’t turn on anymore. I have to assume my TV would rather die than have to display that movie again, even if it was just to see if the commentary track had an apology on it.

A review of Halloween Resurrection is pointless; you don’t need me to tell you the Halloween film where Busta Rhymes roundhouses Michael Myers is terrible. Instead, enjoy this fan fiction I wrote about Busta’s character Freddie and the origins of his business plan. I call this chilling tale:

Freddie’s Dream

Freddie took the failure of his Karate school pretty hard. Despite having no formal training—most of his “karate” knowledge came from watching old Kung Fu movies while working at the local Movie Gallery—he had hoped his enthusiasm would be enough to sustain him through that crucial first year. It wasn’t.

Freddie took solace in the fact that judging from the pile of unrented Sonny Chiba videos he enjoyed for 32 hours a week, Haddonfield probably had as many Martial Arts academies as the market could support: zero.

Still, he needed something. The video store couldn’t last forever—he’d been on thin ice since the assistant manager issued him his final written warning for using the word “motherfucker” 15 times while trying to convince a 9 year old to rent Drunken Master—and he didn’t want to die a clock puncher.

The idea came to him in a dream, kind of. He had fallen asleep watching a Big Brother repeat and faded into consciousness during a news report about Michael Myers. Turns out Myers, who put Haddonfield in the national headlines in 1963 by stabbing his sister to death, finally stabbed the other sister he’d been chasing since 1978. It was a bizarre story that the local media loved to milk, even when the teat was dry. The fact that something had happened this year just meant that they didn’t need to make up any bullshit about runes or cults.

Watching the news reporter talk to a janitor at the sanitarium about why Michael came back after all these years made Freddie think “Man, the sick motherfucking events some of these motherfuckers will exploit for a piece of entertainment. That shit is dangerous! This is some dangerous entertainment!”

The thought stopped his body, but lit up his eyes.

He grabbed a notepad from the end table, scrawled a reminder to call the print shop in the morning, finished the last quarter of his Subway Cold Cut combo and went back to sleep in front of the TV.

Three weeks later, Freddie found himself outside Haddonfield Savings and Loan, his palms starting to sweat. He tried to sell his idea to some of the TV local stations, but they lacked vision and he lacked the phone number to anyone more important than the receptionist. He thought about public access but as he told his coworker Nora “that shit doesn’t have the reach I need to build the foundation of my motherfucking multimedia empire.” It was Nora who provided the missing piece of the puzzle “Big Brother has a live feed online. What if you did something like that?”


Having decided that his sweaty palms weren’t getting any drier, Freddie walked into the bank. He had prepared a small PowerPoint presentation in his Media Studies class, but felt he did better “in the room”, so left the slides at home. He felt instinct take over as he knocked on Mr. Akkad’s open door.

“Mr. Akkad? Freddie Harris. I’m here to talk to you about my latest business venture.”

“Yes, yes, come in, sit down, make yourself comfortable.” Mr. Akkad said, extending his hand. “So, you had mentioned this was some kind of multimedia project? I have to say, we usually don’t see that kind of thing here. It’s a welcome change from all the hardware stores.”

“Yeah, that’s my thing; I like to take a different approach. I tried to traverse the traditional route, but the thing is we’re living in a global economy right now. With the internet and computers now, there’s no reason that a small business can’t extend its reach cross country, you know, bring the people something they haven’t seen. And what’s the one thing that Haddonfield has that no other place has?”

The pause following Freddie’s question left Mr. Akkad a little taken aback. He had thought it to be rhetorical, but the silence indicated otherwise. “Uhhh….”

“Michael Myers.” Freddie said.

“What are you proposing?”

“We send a group of fresh faced college freshmen into the old Myers house, Big Brother style. We’ll do it Halloween night. Let the people watch it on the internet in real time. Put Haddonfield on the map!”

“Hmm. Putting aside my moral reservations for a second, tell me about how you’re planning to monetize this event.”

“Well, uh, we’ll have like ads and shit. Maybe some HP product placement, you know? This is just the calling card that’s going to make Hollywood pick up the phone and start dialing, you know?”

“And what do you plan to call this new venture?”

Freddie leaned forward in his chair, wanting to set the drama. He looked at Mr. Akkad with a conspiratorial half smile and said one word:


“Get out of my office.”

Being that Freddie had already applied the large Dangertainment decal to his mom’s Dodge Caravan, he left that office. But on the way home, he stopped by Staples and charged $527 worth of web cams to his credit card. He’d have to wait until he got paid before he could get the security monitors, fake arms and highchair chains, but he didn’t mind. Mr. Akkad may have squashed Dangertainment for now, but come next Halloween, it would be resurrected.

2 thoughts on “Halloween Resurrection Non-Fan Fiction

  1. Pingback: So It’s Come to This: A Halloween Clip Show | Can't Eat, Can't Breathe

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