I remember the first time I saw The People Under the Stairs. I grew up in Akron, Ohio, in a neighborhood called Highland Square. The hub of the neighborhood was a stretch of Market Street that was a collection of storefronts and small businesses. By the time the 1970s rolled around and American cities turned into rancid shitholes, just about every other business on this stretch of road was a bar. There was a joint called The Bucket Shop. It had an informal slogan, ripped from an old Arlo Guthrie tune: you can get anything you want at The Bucket Shop... anything. Continue reading “October Horrorshow: The People Under the Stairs”