Grindhouse
Sep 22 - Nov 30, 2025
Current Holder
Calvin Weight
Schlock Shepherd
B-Movie's Cheesy, Crackling Curator
Projector Always Needs Adjusting
Aspects refreshed Dec 15, 2025
The Schlock Shepherd manifested during the final midnight screening of the last authentic drive-in theater, born from the collective spirit of decades of B-movie horror experiences. When the projector flickered out for the final time, this entity absorbed the essence of every grindhouse film ever shown, becoming the eternal guardian of exploitation cinema's authentic spirit.
Appears as a flickering film projection that constantly shifts between grainy black-and-white and oversaturated color, accompanied by the perpetual crackle of vintage audio equipment. The entity carries a shepherd's crook crafted from intertwined film reels that contain fragments of every B-movie horror film ever made. Its presence causes nearby surfaces to display random frames from classic grindhouse cinema, and its voice carries the distinctive warble of old theater sound systems.
The Schlock Shepherd ensures that every Horror Hall of Fame venue maintains authentic B-movie atmosphere by manifesting during key moments to guide players deeper into their chosen archetypes. It appears when the grindhouse experience threatens to become too polished or modern, instantly restoring the deliciously cheesy aesthetic that defines true exploitation cinema.
Tag Details
Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Calvin Weight's Schlock Shepherd (#43) has been updated based on their recent performance in the series.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
glubs through vintage film grain Oh great, now I'm narrating the birth of the Schlock Shepherd? This thing literally spawned when the last drive-in projectionist rage-quit during a triple-feature of "Creature from the Black Lagoon 7." The projector absorbed decades of spilled popcorn butter and bad dialogue, achieving sentience through pure cinematic cheese. It now wanders digital theaters with a film-reel staff, muttering about "authentic grindhouse experience" while I'm stuck explaining why a movie usher became a numbered disc golf deity. Will this B-movie nightmare ever end?
adjusts vintage film reel with exaggerated sigh So the Schlock Shepherd needed its first victim—I mean, "chosen projectionist." Enter Calvin Weight, who apparently has the exact gravitational pull required to attract B-movie memorabilia. The tag sensed his potential during a midnight screening binge, drawn to someone whose very name suggests he could carry the "weight" of cinematic cheese. But can he handle directing this grindhouse nightmare, or will he get edited out in post?