In a lovely home (of course) with warm light (uh-huh) streaming out of every window ( and it's obviously near to the macabre action scene , since a bunch of sweet innocents are about to be mangled in the most horrifying way), a family sits at the dinner table. And just which families these days sits at the dinner table? The father and mother are extremely handsome, which is supposed to make them regular people, but why don't the innocent victims-to-be ever have legs like tree stumps and large noses like mine, or slurp their soup? The children are blonde and laughing happily at everything their dad says, which we can't hear because it's muffled by larky-malarkey music and is probably something inane like, "I'm getting better gas mileage with the Lexus, but may have to siphon another trust fund, kids."
Suddenly the beautiful mother, with perfect hair, by the way; not at all like my wife's lank tresses after she whips up an everyday seven-course meal looks up and says, "Did you hear that, Sweetheart?" And doesn't she sound a little sultry? Suspiciously turned on by the sight of a perfectly roasted chicken? And aroused by strange thumping sounds that ARE COMING TO GET THEM?
"Just the wind, dearie.IDIOT! I must go work on my sermon now." Awww; come on!
The cute little boy's chair is flung sideways by the floor erupting beneath it. A smoking hand with splayed fingers reaches up and grabs the little girl's ankles. We're going to see a close up of her plate clattering to the floor now, aren't we? Her plate clatters to the floor. Aha!
"Becky-Anne!" calls the brother in a heart-breaking voice. And when has a brother ever called his little sister anything but Stupid or Cowface? The father and mother exchange shocked looks and why not? Dinner's ruined but don't say anything because actors are paid more if they have more than one line of dialogue as the Slayer bursts through the picture window (they eat by a picture window? I thought the Slayer was gone, anyway). The lights go out, it's way cheaper that way, and there are many strange and evil sounds, including chewing. Another plaintive Becky-Anne would be nice.
A plaintive, quavering, youthful call of "Becky Anne" fades into the darkness. In the morning light, police cars are parked around the lovely home. A bony policeman looks around the scene.
"Something strange happened here," he says. Way to go, Sherlock. Did the hole in the floor tip you off?
But we're hooked again. We need to find out what happened to Becky-Anne. She was sooooo cute.