We must take a short break from the IAHTKY cavalcade to perform an important Kindertrauma ritual. Today is Arbogast Day! Although Arby has pulled the plug on his superlative blog, it is still necessary that we take part in his "The One I Might Have Saved" thing-a-ma-bob to insure a rich healthy harvest of traumafessions this year. To activate the sacrament I must simply pick one horror movie character that dies on film that I'd rather have not die. Nobody readily appeared in my head but then I remembered that I had just viewed FRIDAY THE 13TH: PART 3 again and had decided that I love the character Vera Sanchez as played by CATHERINE PARKS. I'm going to save Vera! It's a tough decision because her death is pretty awesome and it's Jason's very first kill wearing a hockey mask but the heart wants what the heart wants and all that jazz.
I'm sorry but I like Vera way better than that uptight final squirrel Chris Higgins. Vera's just as easy on the eyes (though her red outfit is a little too match-y-match-y for my taste), yet she is much more aware of the feelings of those around her. She defuses nerdy Shelly's advances in an understanding way and she's quick to stroke his ego after they both escape the most dangerous three member gang in the world. Aw, she even looks genuinely touched when she come across a picture in Shelly's wallet of him and his mom. Plus she's endearingly flawed too; butterfingers drops the darn wallet in Crystal Lake! Now if I'm going to point Jason's arrow elsewhere to spare Vera should I point it at Chris? I thought about that but no, the arrow must hit the eyeball of the bitch behind the counter at the grocery store wearing the pig T-shirt who has the gall to tell my Vera, "We don't accept no green stamps." Excuse me? Yep, that one deserves an arrow in both eyes. So, there we are done. "He who walks behind the rows" has been fed. Happy Arbogast Day everyone and Vera, don't ever change!
As much as I, too love Vera I think that I would opt for Shelly. I have always had a soft-spot for the insecure class clown, being one myself. Also, I think that at least one slasher needs a Final Dude, and what better dude than a funny NY Jewish guy in the woods? Woody Allen would be an awesome Final Dude. Richard Lewis? Well, he would probably merit a harpoon in the eye. Still, Jon Stewart, Gilbert Gottfried, Buddy Hackett, Harold Ramis, any of the Marx Brothers, I would even give up the dude part to see Sara Silverman hang the hockey-masked one from the hayloft.
Okay, I don't know where this is coming from. I think I just really wanted to see Shelly pull out of this one because you know he would tag the ending with some epic Catskillsesque humor. Something like, "My mother told be that camping could be bad for a city boy, but I had no idea…", or "Oof. And I thought Macy's on Valentines Day was a fight." Oh, the possibilities.
Vera, we hardly knew ye.
As far as I'm concerned, the true horror that Unk has uncovered here is that the "match-y match-y" clothes thing actually was a look that people went for at one time (other than black black match-y match-y – which will prob never be out of style). I was once a victim of match-y match-y and I cringe at the thought of it today.