I rented a DVD of Roald Dahl's Tales of the Unexpected.
Roald? Too posh for Ronald?
Dreadful 70s/80s production values, classic British actors, vaguely spooky stories.
Why am I watching? It reminds me of being terrified as a kid. I'd watch this in the dark at my grandparents house. They had windows with dark curvy handles, and a tree that kept tapping on the glass. Ah, wonderful childhood memories.
Just watched a 20 minute show where a crazy old broad thinks a stray cat is the reincarnation of Franz Liszt.