Devil Movie

In 1987, I lived with a family in London, England while I went to college at a third-tier British university for a semester. The family consisted of a single mom (not hot), her 19-year-old daughter (hotish, but hated me), and her 15-year-old son Toby.

Toby --- who worshiped Jimi Hendrix and the Velvet Underground --- and I got along great.

One Sunday, Toby, myself and his pet gerbil sat in the family room and watched the entire Omen trilogy which was being shown on England's ITV network. I don't remember much about the movies, except that they were over-the-top and kind of sucked. But Toby and I both could not contain ourselves during the dramatic crescendos of the films. When the story was building up to something particularly evil, the music would get really dark and there would be some background chanting in which some back-up singers from hell were repeating the words: "Damien. Son of the devil. Damien. Son of the devil." So Toby and I joined in with the chanting, which took a turn for the stupid each time we did it. In our version, it went: "Damien. Son of the gerbil."