What's in the Basket?!

I used to have a twin sister.  Yes, it's true.  We were conjoined twins.  Actually, she was more like a parasitic lump on my back.  She only had one eye, a tooth and a finger.  I got so tired of her always scratching at me with her little tooth or finger.  She was such jerk.  I had the doctors remove her and ship her off to the Mütter Museum of Medical Oddities where she can be probed and gawked at, you know, for science.  Anywho, Mistress Violet Strychnine here serving up another slice of pain pie.  Tonight I give you the 1982 Frank Henenlotter gorefest Basket Case.  If you're going to name one of your twins Belial, after one of the crown princes of Hell, you really have no right to get upset when they go on bloody murdering sprees.  It's not his fault.  He's just a little possessive of his brother, wants a steady hot dog supply, and a nice cozy blanket for his basket he lives in.  Is that too much to ask for?  I don't think so.  So when people come snooping around the blood rage kicks in.  He sure does get around for a little flesh lump with arms.  He must work out.  Anyways, only 21 days left my lovely meat sticks.  Oh, and be sure to check your body's nooks and crannies for extra bits of hair or teeth.  You just never know, perhaps you have a twin and you didn't know it. xoxo