Facing down about a dozen people wielding makeshift clubs of chairs and musical instruments, you plan your moves. If you time it just right, you estimate you can slice off the heads of the front line, their bodies then making a roadblock to buy you time to formulate your next strike. Judging the distance carefully, you take a short run up. However, just when you are about to pounce into the air, you trip on a fold in the rug. Sprawling face first onto the ground, you try to get up but the mob is on top of you. After pounding you with musical instruments for the better part of half an hour, the movie resumes. However, the copious amount of blood that now coats the musical instruments makes the melody they play sound awful. Call that revenge from the grave if it gives you something to grasp onto.