Monthly Archives: October 2025

20 Horror Films For Halloween (10/29/25)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

Here’s 20 suggestions, some of which are obvious and some of which are not.

The Essentials

What would Halloween be without watching Halloween (1978)?  And, just to make clear, I’m talking about the John Carpenter Halloween and not any of that David Gordon Green crap.  John Carpenter’s Halloween continues to be one of the most effective horror films ever made and it’s also the rare example of a slasher film in which the victims are just as memorable as the killer.  I love Donald Pleasence’s performance as Dr. Loomis.  Halloween can be viewed on Shudder.

Halloween II (1981) picks up right where the first Halloween ended.  Jamie Lee Curtis doesn’t really do much in this version, other than spend her time limping through the hallways of Haddonfield’s nearly deserted hospital.  However, that just means that we get to spend more time with Dr. Loomis!  Halloween II is nowhere near as effective as the first film but it still introduced some really interesting ideas, like Samhain and Laurie being Michael’s sister.  David Gordon Green decided all of that unnecessary.  I disagree.  Halloween II can be viewed on Peacock.

Halloween III: Season of the Witch (1982) does not feature Michael Myers or Laurie Strode or even Dr. Loomis.  However, it does feature the Silver Shamrock theme song, Tom Atkins yelling like a badass, and Don O’Herlihy explaining the true meaning of Halloween.  “….and Happy Halloween.”  Halloween III can be viewed on Peacock.

The Exorcist (1973), William Friedkin’s masterpiece and the first horror film to ever be nominated for Best Picture, is one of the few horror film to remain frightening even after repeat viewings.  I will add that you don’t have to be Catholic to get The Exorcist but it definitely helps.  The Exorcist can be viewed on HBOMax. 

Suspiria (1977) remains Dario Argento’s best film, a dizzying masterpiece of horrific pop art that mixes blood, ballet, witches, music, and names that start with S.  From the moment that Jessica Harper (giving a great performance) steps into the rainy night to the shocking double murder at the red apartment building to the mind-bending climax, Suspiria is a brilliant mix of suspense and horror.  Do not see the remake.  (What is the deal with pretentious schmucks remaking brilliant horror films?)  The original is all you need.  It’s on Tubi.

Inferno (1980) is one of Argento’s more unfairly overlooked films.  A loose sequel to Suspiria, Inferno is a masterpiece of both horror and paranoia.  Irene Miracle’s opening swim is one of Argento’s most haunting set pieces.  The killer kitties are adorable.  The ending features effects work from none other than Mario Bava.  Sadly, the making of Inferno was not a happy experience for Argento and it temporarily soured him on working in America.  This brilliant film is on Tubi.

After his bad experience with Inferno, Argento returned to his giallo roots with Tenebrae (1982).  A series of murders in Rome are connected to an American writer.  Argento reportedly did not get along with star Anthony Franciosa but he still got a good performance out of him.  The wonderfully quirky supporting cast includes John Saxon, Daria Nicolodi, Christian Borromeo, John Steiner, Lara Wendel, Ania Pieroni, and Giuliano Gemma.  This film features several frightening and suspenseful set pieces.  The relentless dog still freaks me out.  Tenebrae can be viewed on Tubi.

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) — again, the original and not the remake — holds up surprisingly well.  Whenever I watch it, I’m shocked to be reminded of just how scary Freddy Krueger actually was in his first film appearance.  This Wes Craven shocker is available on HBOMax.

Poltergeist (1982) — the original, not the remake — also holds up well.  JoBeth Williams finding the strength after being thrown around her room to limp down that ever expanding hallway to save her children continues to be both horrifying and inspiring.  Craig T. Nelson’s over-the-top delivery of “YOU LEFT THE BODIES!” continues to make me smile.  Poltergeist can be viewed on HBOMax.

It’s not Halloween without Bruce Campbell and Evil Dead (1981) — the original, though the remake isn’t bad — is available on Tubi.  Though it lacks the humor of the sequels, the first Evil Dead holds up very well and one can definitely see why not only Bruce Campbell but also Sam Raimi went on to have active and successful career afterwards.

In my previous entry, I listed several Vincent Price/Roger Corman collaborations.  Somehow, I failed to include The Masque of the Red Death (1964), which is the best of them all.  Vincent Price is wonderfully evil.  Roger Corman’s direction is appropriately intense.  Nicholas Roeg’s cinematography is beautifully ominous.  It can be viewed on Tubi.

The Wolf Man (1941) — the original, even though I like the remake — is one of my favorite Universal horror films, even if it does leave me wondering how Lon Chaney, Jr. could possibly be the son of Claude Rain.  In future films, Larry Talbot would become a bit too whiny for his own good.  In this one, your heart breaks for him and his father.  The Wolf Man can be viewed on Peacock.

White Zombie (1932) is considered to be first feature-length zombie film.  It’s a bit creaky but it does feature one of Bela Lugosi’s best performances.  One should see it for its historical significance, if nothing else.  It can be viewed on on Tubi!

Odds and Ends

One can debate whether or not Targets (1968) should be considered a horror film or a thriller but it features what is perhaps Boris Karloff’s best performance, playing an aging horror star who fears that his old movies can’t compete with reality.  For once, Karloff is the hero, bravely confronting a madman who starts shooting at the people attending a showing of one of Karloff’s old films.  Targets can be viewed on Pluto TV.

The Dead Pit (1989) is a personal favorite of mine.  An amnesiac (energetically played by Cheryl Lawson) finds herself in an insane asylum where she spends a lot of time running around in her underwear while a doctor performs experiments and the dead rise.  Lawson’s committed performance and director Bett Leonard’s atmospheric direction elevate the entire film.  This is 80s, low-budget horror at its best and it’s on Tubi.

Night of the Demons (1988) asks the question, “Is it really a good idea to have a party in a deserted house?”  Night of the Demons is enjoyable in its shameless and demented way.  Linnea Quigley and Angela Kinkade throw themselves into the role of the two girls throwing the party.  The film is energetic, surprising, witty, and occasionally even scary.  It can be viewed on Tubi.

From the same director as Night of the Demons, Witchboard (1986) is the ultimate film about why one shouldn’t mess with a Ouija board.  I relate to Witchboard because it’s about a redhead who never curses.  Beyond that, though, this is a good horror film that features Stephen Nichols getting upset when everyone fails to take his Ouija board seriously.  This film actually has its share of very real jump scares.  It can be viewed on Tubi.

Wishmaster (1997) is well-remembered for Andrew Divoff’s creepy intensity as the Djinn but the cast is actually a who’s who of horror royalty.  Robert Englund, Tony Todd, George “Buck” Flower, Kane Hodder, Reggie Bannister, Joe Pilato, they all made appearances.  I like the fact that no one ever chooses their words carefully when speaking to Wishmaster.  The film is on Tubi.

Dead and Buried (1981) features strange things happening in a coastal town.  This film feels like a particularly gruesome episode of The Twilight Zone and features a strong performance from Jack Albertson as the coroner with a secret.  It’s on Tubi.

Exorcist II: The Heretic (1977) has a terrible reputation that is largely deserved but I have to admit that I find it to be strangely fascinating.  It’s such a misfire that you really can’t look away and it takes an all-star cameo approach to its story that feels so wrong that it leaves you wondering whether John Boorman was intentionally going for a parody or not.  Richard Burton doesn’t waste any time with being subtle.  See if you can figure out what’s going on during the flashback scenes.  It’s on Tubi and I dare you to watch it.

Click here for the weekend’s list!

 

 

 

 

Horror Review: The Void (dir. by Steven Kostanski & Jeremy Gillespie)

Posted on by Arleigh

“It’s not just the darkness out there… it’s the darkness in here.” — Sheriff Daniel Carter

Steven Kostanski and Jeremy Gillespie’s The Void is a grisly, atmospheric plunge into Lovecraftian cosmic horror and John Carpenter-inspired body horror, set within a nearly abandoned rural hospital shrouded in eerie blue light and creeping shadows. The film expertly conjures anxiety and dread, as fragile boundaries between dimensions begin to dissolve, threatening to swallow all inside.

At the heart of the story is Deputy Sheriff Daniel Carter (Aaron Poole), whose weighty grief and fractured relationships drive his reluctant heroism. He stumbles upon a bloodied man and brings him to the hospital staffed by his estranged wife, Allison Fraser (Kathleen Munroe), a focused nurse haunted by their broken family. Dr. Richard Powell (Kenneth Welsh) looms as the villainous architect of the unfolding nightmare, his obsession with conquering death fueled by personal tragedy, twisting him into a leader of occult horrors.

The supporting characters—Vincent and Simon, survivors hardened by trauma; Maggie, a pregnant woman caught in the web of cosmic corruption; and Kim, a vulnerable young intern—saturate the siege narrative with survival-driven urgency. Though less developed than the leads, they embody the raw desperation and existential threat pervading the hospital.

The Void wears its influences on its sleeve, drawing heavily from the siege tension of John Carpenter’s Assault on Precinct 13 alongside the paranoia and isolation of The Thing. These classic Carpenter motifs—claustrophobic settings, unrelenting external threat, and mistrust among survivors—penetrate the film’s fabric, amplified by a synthesizer-driven score nodding to Carpenter’s sonic signature. The nightmarish body horror, occult elements, and grotesque practical effects owe much to Stuart Gordon’s work adapting Lovecraft’s stories, blending visceral horror with cosmic dread.

Yet, while the homage is clear and affectionate, the film sometimes falters by blending these iconic elements into a decoction that resists full cohesion. Instead of synthesizing the inspirations into an innovative whole, it assembles a patchwork—rich in style and atmosphere but struggling to commit to a coherent, fresh narrative. The mixture of Carpenter’s claustrophobic siege, Gordon’s visceral mythos, and the cultist horror trope occasionally feels like pastiche rather than a confident new voice.

The technical craftsmanship shines throughout. Practical effects—from mutated creatures to grotesque body transformations—are lovingly crafted and tactile, restoring a physicality often lost in digital horror. The cinematography and lighting accentuate the oppressive mood, favoring muted colors punctuated by blood-red and luminous blues, thinking as much about shadows as solid objects.

However, the film’s narrative and character work often leave something to be desired. While Carter’s arc of guilt and reluctant heroism is thematically resonant, key emotional beats suffer from underdevelopment, with his relationships, particularly with Allison, only superficially explored. Dialogue oscillates between exposition-heavy and clipped, hindering audience connection with the cast amid the unrelenting terror. The supporting characters serve primarily functional roles, their deeper motivations and backstories sacrificed for the sake of grim spectacle and escalating horror.

The climax descends into surreal, fragmented sequences that evoke fever dreams more than narrative resolution. This abstract finale, while visually striking, challenges viewers seeking clarity and can be polarizing: some will appreciate the cosmic horror tradition of unsolvable mysteries, while others may experience frustration with the loose plotting and ambiguity. Pacing reflects these shifts—building steadily in the opening act before devolving into frenetic, disjointed bursts that occasionally undermine tension.

Despite these narrative and pacing flaws, The Void remains a memorable experience for lovers of practical effects and cosmic horror texture. It’s a film rich with unsettling imagery and mood, capturing a form of existential terror that goes beyond cheap scares. The filmmakers’ love for classic horror runs deep, even if the resulting fusion occasionally feels like homage without full reinvention.

Ultimately, The Void is a dark, unsettling trip into the unknowable—a sonic and visual descent into a hellish siege where logic unravels and time shatters. It’s a film that prizes atmosphere and physical monstrosity over smooth storytelling, inviting viewers to surrender to dread rather than demand explanation. For fans of Carpenter’s minimalist tension, Gordon’s visceral adaptations, and the tactile nightmares of 80s horror, The Void offers a rewarding, though imperfect, journey into the cosmic abyss—an evocative invocation of terror where humanity is both survivor and prey.

Alone in the Bathroom, AI Short Film Review by Case Wright

Posted on by casewright

No title card; so, I used this as the title card. *sigh*
This AI short gave me a little jump. It did have some suspense; so, I won’t feed the creator to the sharks. Sorry Sharks.

Woman alone brushing her teeth, but there is a malevolent force in there with her. The bathroom is by definition private and you’re almost always vulnerable. The film has some suspense and payoff.
It is worth watching.

Horror Review: A House of Dynamite (dir. by Kathryn Bigelow)

Posted on by Arleigh

“So it’s a fucking coin toss? That’s what 50 billion dollars buys us?” — Secretary of Defense Reid Baker

The end of the Cold War was supposed to close a chapter of fear. With the superpowers stepping back from the brink, the world briefly believed it had entered an era of stability. Yet that promise never held. The weapons remained, the rivalries adapted, and the global machinery of deterrence continued to hum beneath the surface. Kathryn Bigelow’s A House of Dynamite faces this reality head-on, transforming the mechanics of modern nuclear defense into something unnervingly human. On the surface, it plays as a high-tension political technothriller, but beneath that precision lies a deeply existential horror film—one built not on shadows or monsters, but on daylight, competence, and the narrow margins of human fallibility.

The premise is piercingly simple. An unidentified missile is detected over the Pacific. Analysts assume it’s a test or a glitch—another false alarm in a world overflowing with them. But within minutes, as conflicting data streams converge, what seemed routine begins to look real. The film unfolds in real time over twenty excruciating minutes, charting the reactions of those charged with interpreting and responding to the potential catastrophe. Bigelow divides the film into three interwoven perspectives: the White House Situation Room, the missile intercept base at Fort Greely, and the President’s mobile command aboard Marine One. The structure allows tension to grow from every direction at once, each perspective magnifying the other until the screen feels ready to collapse under its own pressure.

Capt. Olivia Walker (Rebecca Ferguson), commanding officer of the Situation Room, anchors the story with calm professionalism that gradually frays into disbelief. Ferguson’s performance is clear-eyed and tightly modulated—precise, disciplined, and quietly devastating. She stands as the rational center inside chaos, her composure the last gesture of control in a world that no longer follows reason.

Over her is Adm. Mark Miller (Jason Clarke), Director of the Situation Room, who represents the institutional embodiment of confidence. Clarke plays him with methodical restraint, a man who trusts procedure long after it stops earning trust. Miller’s authority is both comforting and horrifying: a portrait of leadership built on ritual rather than certainty.

At Fort Greely, Anthony Ramos brings an intimate immediacy as the officer charged with the missile intercept. His scenes hum with kinetic dread—the physical execution of decisions made thousands of miles away. Through him, the film captures the most primal kind of fear: acting when hesitation could mean extinction, knowing that success and failure are separated only by chance.

The President, portrayed by Idris Elba, spends much of the crisis in motion—first within the cocoon of the presidential limousine, and later, aboard Marine One as it carves through blinding daylight. Elba gives a performance of subtle, steady erosion. At first, he embodies unshakeable calm, a figure of poise and authority; but as the situation deepens, his steadiness wanes. Words become shorter, pauses longer. Every decision carries consequences too vast for resolution. It is a measured, understated portrait of power giving way to human uncertainty.

Bigelow’s direction is stripped of ornament and focused on precision. Barry Ackroyd’s cinematography heightens the claustrophobia of command centers—the sterile light, the reflective glass, the sense that every surface observes its occupants—while his exterior scenes pierce with harsh brightness, suggesting that no sanctuary exists under full exposure. Kirk Baxter’s editing maintains an unrelenting pulse, cutting with mathematical precision while preserving the eerie stillness of the moments where no one dares to speak.

​A House of Dynamite also shows how even with the most competent experts—military, intelligence, and political—working to manage an escalating crisis, there is no path to victory. The professionals at every level stop seeking to prevent the worst and instead focus on saving what they can when the worst becomes inevitable. The film’s scariest revelation is not the potential for destruction, but the paralysis that intelligence creates. If the brightest, most disciplined people in the world cannot find an answer, what happens when power falls into the hands of those less prepared or less rational? In its quiet way, the film poses that question that we see more and more each day on the news and on social media and we are left with silence and realization of the horror of it all.

Despite its precision, the film isn’t without flaws. Bigelow’s triptych structure—cutting between the three perspectives—works brilliantly to escalate tension, yet the repetition of similar beats slightly blunts the impact. Each segment revisits the same crisis rhythms—a data discrepancy, an argument over authority, another uncertain update—sometimes slowing the natural momentum. While the repetition underlines the futility of bureaucratic systems in chaos, the transitions don’t flow as fluidly as the rest of the film’s airtight craftsmanship. The result is a film that is gripping overall, occasionally uneven in rhythm, but never less than absorbing.

When the final minutes arrive, Bigelow declines to deliver resolution. No mushroom clouds, no catharsis. The President sits in Marine One, head down with the weight of the world on his shoulders as he contemplates his options in the Black Book (options in how to retaliate) and knowing that he has no good choices in front of him. The world remains suspended between survival and oblivion, and the silence that follows feels heavier than sound. The ending resists closure because endings, in the nuclear age, are an illusion—the fear continues no matter what happens next.

In a year crowded with strong horror releases—Sinners, Weapons, The Long Walk and Frankenstein among them—A House of Dynamite stands apart. Dressed in the crisp realism of a technothriller, it’s a horror film defined by procedure, light, and silence. Bigelow builds terror from competence, from the steady voices and confident gestures of people trying to manage the unmanageable. This is not the chaos of fiction but the dread of reality, a reminder that the systems meant to preserve and protect might one day fail to deliver on its promise. For all its precision and restraint, A House of Dynamite shakes in the memory long after it ends—the year’s most quietly terrifying film.

Nuclear Close Calls: The situation and question brought up in the film has basis in history as there has been many instances of close calls and false alarms. The film itself doesn’t confirm that the missile detonated, but the implications in past confirmed events just shows how close the world has been to a completed catastrophe.

Horror On The Lens: Little Shop of Horrors (dir by Roger Corman)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

Whenever it’s time to share this film for Horrorthon, I have a little story that I like to tell:

Enter singing.

Little Shop.…Little Shop of Horrors.…Little Shop.…Little Shop of Terrors….

When I was 19 years old, I was in a community theater production of the musical Little Shop of Horrors.  Though I think I would have made the perfect Audrey, everybody always snickered whenever I sang so I ended up as a part of “the ensemble.”  Being in the ensemble basically meant that I spent a lot of time dancing and showing off lots of cleavage.  And you know what?  The girl who did play Audrey was screechy, off-key, and annoying and after every show, all the old people in the audience always came back stage and ignored her and went straight over to me.  So there.

Anyway, during rehearsals, our director thought it would be so funny if we all watched the original film.  Now, I’m sorry to say, much like just about everyone else in the cast, this was my first exposure to the original and I even had to be told that the masochistic dentist patient was being played by Jack Nicholson.  However, I’m also very proud to say that — out of that entire cast — I’m the only one who understood that the zero-budget film I was watching was actually better than the big spectacle we were attempting to perform on stage.  Certainly, I understood the film better than that screechy little thing that was playing Audrey.

The first Little Shop of Horrors certainly isn’t scary and there’s nobody singing about somewhere that’s green (I always tear up when I hear that song, by the way).  However, it is a very, very funny film with the just the right amount of a dark streak to make it perfect Halloween viewing.

So, if you have 72 minutes to kill, check out the original and the best Little Shop of Horrors….

 

Music Video of the Day: People Are Strange By The Doors (1967, directed by ????)

Posted on by Jedadiah Leland

This was one of the earliest music videos, featuring a band that seemed to be destined to take advantage of the format.  The song was written a time when Jim Morrison was going through a period of depression.  While watching the sunset at Robby Krieger’s house, he suddenly had the realization that “If you’re strange, people are strange.”

Enjoy!

October Positivity: Revelation Road 3: The Black Rider (dir by Gabriel Sabloff)

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

Eric Roberts is not in Revelation Road 3.

I was hoping that he might be, even though his name didn’t appear in the credits.  Quite a few cast members from the first two films return for the third film.  David A.R. White is back as Josh McManus, the former super soldier who now drives his souped-car through the wastelands of America.  Bruce Marchiano is back, credited as the Stranger though we all  know he’s actually Jesus.  (Since Marchiano  appeared in all three films, I can only assume the Revelation Road films all take place in the same cinematic universe as The Encounter films and Sarah’s Choice.)  Brian Bosworth shows up briefly.

But there is no Eric Roberts.  Not even Eliza Roberts appears in this film!  It’s a shame and they are both missed.

However, Kevin Sorbo does show up.

Kevin Sorbo plays Honcho, a bandit leader who lives in the wastelands and who is worshipped by those who follow him.  Honcho occasionally speaks with an Australian accent.  Occasionally, the accent slips or disappears all together.  At first, I thought this was a case of bad editing, bad dubbing, or maybe Sorbo not really being that into the character.  However, there’s actually a rather clever moment in which Honcho tells Josh that he’s not actually from Australia.  He just speaks with the accent because it impresses his followers.  Without the accent, he’s just some guy who used to work at a gas station.  With the accent, he’s a warlord.

It’s a moment that made me laugh, largely because it’s true.  People love and fear accents.  If you’ve got a posh British accent, most Americans will assume that you’re planning a heist of some sort and that Sylvester Stallone or Harrison Ford is somewhere nearby, trying to stop you.  If you’ve got an Australian accent, the assumption amongst Americans is that you can survive harsh conditions, handle your alcohol, and jump out of a plane without a second thought.

However, Sorbo’s fake Australian accent also pays a sort of homage to the Mad Max films.  The Revelation Road trilogy was obviously envisioned as being a faith-based version of the Mad Max films, with David A.R. White cheerfully stepping into the somber shoes of Mel Gibson and Tom Hardy.  Using Mad Max as a model for a faith-based apocalypse film actually isn’t that bad of an idea.  Indeed, Gibson’s style of beatific madness opens up the original Mad Max trilogy to a similar interpretation.  Unfortunately, Revelation Road 3 is at time a bit too faithful to the Mad Max films, to the extent that it struggles to establish an identity outside of the films that inspired it.  That’s one reason why Kevin Sorbo’s character stands out.  He’s a character who genuinely surprises us.

As for the plot of Revelation Road 3, it finds Josh being sent on a mission to find The Shepherd (Robert Gossett), a mysterious figure who is gathering together a religious flock in the desert despite the fact that the new world government has outlawed things like religion and individual freedom.  While Josh’s wounded companion waits in a town ruled over by Mayor Drake (James Denton), Josh searches the desert and occasionally sees a mysterious rider on a horse.  The film mixes action and theology and the results are definitely mixed, with a few well-done chase scenes mixed with a lot of scenes of people talking.  That said, at its best, The Black Rider achieves a sort of desolate grandeur.

Late Night Retro Television Review: Pacific Blue 3.4 “Blood For Blood”

Posted on by Lisa Marie Bowman

Welcome to Late Night Retro Television Reviews, a feature where we review some of our favorite and least favorite shows of the past! On Tuesdays, I will be reviewing Pacific Blue, a cop show that aired from 1996 to 2000 on the USA Network!  It’s currently streaming everywhere, though I’m watching it on Tubi.

This week, the bike patrol is busy!

Episode 3.4 “Blood For Blood”

(Dir by Gary Winter, originally aired on August 24th, 1997)

Last week, Pacific Blue attempted to deal with Rave Culture.

This week, it’s Hip Hop Culture!

Rapper Gangster 47 (Ross Leon) is gunned down while leaving a concert.  Gangster 47’s daughter (Meagan Good) is convinced that the hit was ordered by Gangster 47’s rival, Trigger Dog (Ten’l Brunson).  Now, I will just admit right now that I’m having a hard time writing this review because I can’t type out the name Trigger Dog without laughing.  Even though everyone says that Trigger Dog’s feud with Gangster 47 was all for show, Gangster 47’s daughter is determined to shoot Trigger Dog.

Fortunately, noted gangsta rap fan Chris Kelly is on the case.  Seriously, Chris is portrayed as being a fan of Gangster 47.  Over the course of the previous 38 episodes, we have seen absolutely nothing about the very white and the very uptight Chris that would lead us to believe that Chris would be a fan of anything other than military marches but this episode opens with her rolling her eyes when TC says that rap isn’t real music.  Chris tells TC that he needs to realize there’s more to music than the Bee Gees.  Ouch!  You tell him, Chris.  And seriously, take that, Bee Gees!  How Deep Is You Love now, huh!?

Chris and TC have been assigned to protect Gangster 47.  Why exactly the bike patrol is protecting a celebrity who has been getting death threats — as opposed to real cops and real bodyguards — is never really addressed.  Gangster 47’s daughter hates cops.  When Gangster 47 is gunned down in a drive-by, it seems like his daughter has a point. Gangster 47 isn’t killed but he is in the hospital.

The show’s producers obviously figured out that it would be a little bit awkward for the show’s almost entirely white cast to be dealing with a case involving two gangsta rappers so we meet a supercool black detective named — I’m not making this up — Wishbone (Derek Morgan).  Wishbone mainly exists to clasp hands with TC and to back-up Chris, as if the show is saying, “See?  These two aren’t as dorky as they seem.  Wishbone likes them!”  With Wishbone’s help, they come to realize that Gangster 47 was shot by a white man and Trigger Dog is innocent.

The white man is a serial killer named Strob (Todd Cattrell) who is apparently trying to bring about the Biblical apocalypse by murdering celebrities or something.  TC spots him on the beach but, in order to chase after him, he has to get on his bike and this leads to urgent close-up of TC dialing the combination of his bike lock.  Hey, TC, if you had a car, you would have already arrested Streob by now!

While this is going on, Victor’s girlfriend, Linda (Vaitiare Hirshon) has witnessed a murder and, if she testifies, she may have to go into the witness protecting program!  That’s a big deal but, of course, Palermo acts as if it’s nothing because Palermo never seems to get that people actually have lives outside of whatever he needs at any given moment.  Victor doesn’t want to lose Linda.  Conveniently, the murderer pulls a gun on Victor, which gives Victor the perfect excuse to gun him down.  Palermo’s like, “Did he shoot first?” and Victor says, “Sure.”  Victor then asks Linda to marry him.

Personally, I just find it interesting that, with all the crime happening in Santa Wherever This Show Takes Place, it just takes five people on bicycles to catch all the bad guys.  I mean, if that works in Santa Monica, maybe it’ll also work in New York after Mamdani is elected.  Let’s hope so!