Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, close bosom-friend of the maturing sun, conspiring with him how to load and bless with forgotten film, the dark corners that round the thatch-eves run. The Gents discuss, in the spirit of the season, horror films they have loved, but which may have missed your lists, as gathering swallows titter in the skies. (With all due respect to Keats).
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