But here you'll have to settle for the trailer because TS is about 99.99% certain that this flick is NOT in the public domain.
A Bucket of Blood Trailer
A young nerdy waiter who works at a beat cafe envies the talents of his various artistic customers and tormentors and tries his hand at sculpting, but, alas, he has no talent, just the yearning for fame and riches.
What a loser!
After he accidentally kills his landlady's cat, he has a flash of inspiration: he could mold the sculpting clay around the dead creature! Why not? He didn't mean to kill the poor kitty! Maybe some good can come of this tragic death.
His first sculpture is a rousing success, and his former tormentors are amazed.
Suddenly, he's hot, hot, hot, and he must keep "creating," and animals are no longer cutting it! He makes an important decision and this formerly sweet nebbish turns cold-blooded killer.
A must-see for those who have morphed Plan 9 From Outer Space into cult film status.
But if gore
Isn't your score
Some teen beat poetry:
A great clip from the 1958 teen B movie High School Confidential. This clip features Phillipa Fallon as a beat poetess. That's Uncle Fester, AKA Jackie Coogan, on piano behind her. Turn your eyes inside and dig the vacuum. Tomorrow... drag xoxo
"High School Drag"
(From High School Confidential)
MGM 12661 released 6/58
Performed by Phillipa Fallon
My old man was a bread stasher all his life.
He never got fat. He wound up with a used car,
a 17 inch screen and arthritis.
Tomorrow is a drag, man.
Tomorrow is a king sized bust.
They cried 'put down pot,' 'don’t think a lot,' for what?
Time, how much? And what to do with it.
Sleep, man, and you might wake up digging the whole
human race giving itself three days to get out.
Tomorrow is a drag, pops, the future is a flake.
I had a canary who couldn’t sing.
I had a cat who let me share my pad with her.
I bought a dog that killed the cat who ate the canary.
What is truth?
I had an uncle with an ivy league card.
He had a life with a belt in the back.
He had a button-down brain.
Wind up a belt in the mouth with a button-down lip.
We cough blood on this earth.
Now there’s a race for space.
We can cough blood on the moon soon.
Tomorrow's dragsville, cats.
Tomorrow is a king size drag.
Tool a fast shore, swing with a gassy chick.
Turn on to a thousand joys.
Smile on what happened, or check what’s going to happen,
You’ll miss what’s happening.
Turn your eyes inside and dig the vacuum.
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