John Dies At The End

Synopsis: It's a drug that promises an out-of-body experience with each hit. On the street they call it Soy Sauce, and users drift across time and dimensions. But some who come back are no longer human. Suddenly a silent otherworldly invasion is underway, and mankind needs a hero. What it gets instead is John and David, a pair of college dropouts who can barely hold down jobs. Can these two stop the oncoming horror in time to save humanity? No. No, they can't.
Genre: Comedy, Horror, Sci-Fi
Director(s): Don Coscarelli
Production: Magnolia Pictures
  2 wins & 6 nominations.
Rotten Tomatoes:
99 min

Solving the following riddle

will reveal the awful secret

behind the universe,

assuming you do not go

utterly mad in the attempt.

Say you have an axe... just a

cheap one from home depot.

On one bitter winter day

you use said axe

to behead a man.

Don't worry...

the man's already dead.

Maybe you should worry, 'cause

you're the one who shot him.

He'd been a big twitchy guy

with veined skin

stretched over swollen biceps,

tattoo of a swastika

on his tongue.

And you're chopping off

his head because

even with eight

bullet holes in him,

you're pretty sure he's about

to spring back to his feet

and eat the look of terror

right off your face.

You now have a broken axe.

So you go

to the hardware store...

explaining away the dark reddish

stains on the handle as barbeque sauce.

The repaired axe sits

undisturbed in your house

until the next spring

when one rainy morning...

So you grab your trusty axe and chop

the thing into several pieces.

On the last blow, however...

Of course a chipped head means yet

another trip to the hardware store.

As soon as you get home with

your newly-headed axe though...

You meet the reanimated body of

the guy you beheaded last year,

only he's got a new head

stitched on with what looks like

plastic weed-trimmer line and

wears that unique expression

of you're-the-man-who-killed-

me-last-winter resentment

that one so rarely encounters

in everyday life.

So you brandish your axe.

That's the axe that slayed me.

Is he right?

My name is David Wong.

I once saw a man's

kidney grow tentacles,

tear itself out of a

ragged hole in his back

and go slapping

across my kitchen floor.

But that's another story.

More side effects.

It's always like this

when I'm on the sauce.

I dosed six hours ago.

My count had 5,829 grains

of rice on her plate.

The rice was grown in Arkansas.

The guy who ran

the John Deere harvester

was nicknamed Cooter.

I'm not a genius.

I'm not a psychic either.

Just side effects, that's all.

David Wong?

David Wong?

What, did you doze off there?

Hey, you're...

you're Arnie, right?

Arnie Blondestone.

Sorry I'm late.

You don't look Asian,

Mr. Wong.

I'm not.

I was born right here.

Had my last name changed though.

Thought it'd make me harder to find.

You know that Wong is the most

common surname in the world?

Mmm. Is your family

still around?

No, I was adopted.

I never knew my real dad.

You could be my dad

for all I know.

Are you my dad?


I don't think so, no.

Anyway, my adopted family

moved away.

I won't tell you

where they went, but...

Get out your pen, 'cause you're

gonna wanna write this down.

My biological mom,

she was institutionalized.

Must've been hard.

She was a strung-out,

crank-addicted cannibal,

dabbled in vampirism

and necromancy.

Blew her welfare check

every month on black candles.

Really? And I thought

my mom was bad

because she wouldn't

let me watch "space ghost."

- You pulling my leg?

- No, this is just what I do when I get nervous.

Um, she was bipolar,

that's all.

Couldn't keep a house. But isn't

the other story better though?

- I think you should use that.

- I thought you wanted

to get the truth out,

your side of it.

If not, what are we even

doing here, Mr. Wong?

You're right. Sorry.

So you guys are...

you're what?

You're some kind

of spiritualists?


Something like that?

- I could blow your world

- Away, Arnie.

If I show you

what's in this container,

you'll never feel at one

with the human race

until the day you die.

You ever shit yourself, Arnie?

'Cause you would've if you'd

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Don Coscarelli

Don Coscarelli, Jr. (born February 17, 1954) is a Libyan-American film director, producer and screenwriter best known for horror films. His credits include the Phantasm series, The Beastmaster, and Bubba Ho-Tep. more…

All Don Coscarelli scripts | Don Coscarelli Scripts

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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