The 2016 Tales from the Crypt performances featured the work of MSMS students in five nights of production.  After five nights of tours, the 26th edition of the research and performance project concluded on Friday, April 8 and meet its goal of more than 2,000 visitors.  Below is a perspective written by Noah Hunt who performed a skit on the life of R. G. Gibson, Columbus farmer.

First Night (Broken Glass)

“If that kid had touched me for any longer, I would’ve shot him.” Comforting words to hear on your first night.

At some point in my 16 years on this earth, I apparently became a master at breaking lampshades. My plot is almost eerily devoid of substance; mostly grass, one still-standing tombstone and another half sunken into the ground. Added on is a smattering of shattered glass coating the earth that lies below it. It is on this plot that I lay my scene, switching between casual conversation and Baptist preacher yell in a matter of seconds. Naturally, I get pretty hoarse as the night goes along.

A corner store sits almost directly across the street from me. Sometimes when I got downtime, I considered asking someone to buy me a water.

Second Night (Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head)

Considering most of my research subject’s family died of pneumonia, it was only fitting that it was both wet and cold on the second night of performances. For those who have never performed in the rain, I would not recommend it; while I thankfully had a tree on my plot that could cover me, some of my peers were not so lucky. At least I avoided wearing a poncho.

But despite all this, people kept coming through. Group after group after group would walk past, and grateful as I am for the experience, there are only so many times you can repeat the same number of sentences without getting a little tired. But this Friday was nothing compared to the next Friday (but more on that later).

Third Night (Fading Memory)

To be perfectly honest, I barely remember anything that happened on Monday.

Fourth Night (The Soothing Sounds of “Bohemian Rhapsody”)

We all knew the forecast: projected rain, thunderstorms, etc., etc. Like that was really going to stop us. I had family coming so I had no desire for it to be cancelled, but I know some who felt differently.

Which led to this situation: 70-something people shoved under one kind of roof trying to avoid getting wet.

“You know, in these situations, the Tupelo people typically lead us in a group sing-a-long.”

Thanks, Mr. Yarborough. Backed into a corner, I had no clue what to sing. What do I know that other people probably knew the lyrics to? I could think of nothing, until it finally hit me – “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Nailed it.

This was a fairly low attendance night, so we got away a little early, which was pretty nice. At this point in the week, I was ready for Tales to be over; but, I still had one more night to go.

Fifth Night (The Final Round)

Words cannot explain the depths of my tiredness. If I had slept for an entire day beforehand, I still feel like there was no way I could have been ready. For three and a half hours, I delivered the same monologue over and over to groups and crowds that may or may not have even cared. Either way made no difference to me; I did my best to make it as energetic as I could for those that showed no appreciation and for those that laughed along.

Admittedly, there are only so many times you can pause after a joke to hear only silence without beginning to feel a little disheartened, but to quote my script, that didn’t stop me from persevering.

Seeing the final group brought a wave of relief so complete that I was afraid I would float away during my last performance; but, I managed to pull through. Every single performer seemed to have the same reaction — pure ecstaticism with an undercurrent of sadness that it was over. But who cares about sadness when you can finally catch a break.

Still, I remain extremely grateful for the time I spent performing in Tales this year. Considering I thought that there was no chance I would actually get to be a performer, I guess I did pretty well. If I ever have to deliver that script again, though, I will scream.