From the first head down, I knew I had run into my favorite, clean bloody flakes. I like bloody and clean films, crisp cuts, clean and bright red blood, pale and delicate corpses...no sticky, dirty flesh covered in unidentified debris, no greasy arching and arching Disgusting fly larvae, no yellow and black rotten and festering limbs... The green manor, the hazy fog, the early morning sunshine, the beautiful girl, even the darkness is so textured, this kind of scenery, although there is no blood Its head rolled over from time to time, but it did not diminish its charm in the slightest.
The story unfolds slowly and unexpectedly. The neurotic Crane and the oil painting Katrina stage a story of love and trust in the rolling heads. Maybe I'm getting more and more perverted, and there are so many jokes in the story that I forgot that this is a horror movie at all. In the end, I turned the teacup over and looked at the wet table, and suddenly realized that it was a comedy.
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