Soundclips

It's twelve midnite, and we just started... up until about one o'clock

She's crazy. There ain't no fog bank out there.

I hope no one else gets lost out there in the fog.

Evidence of deep penetrating wounds... cranial cavity.

I'm sorry. For what? Ever since... things seem to happen to me.

At the same time that fog rolled in... town came unglued!

This town sits around for a hundred years... whole place falls apart.

This has gotta be a joke.

Not a good sign.

I'm the sixth conspirator. I'm Father Malone. Take me.

(whack)