In the cinematic gem “Devil Times Five,” viewers are treated to a heartwarming public service announcement disguised as a horror romp: please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t let the “Ralphs” of the world procreate. Ralph, the lovably retarded hired hand, serves as the film’s cautionary mascot. When a busload of criminally insane kids survives a crash and decides to redecorate a remote cabin with the viscera of their guardians and gatekeepers, the movie connects the dots with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. The implied thesis? Society must draw a line at the gene pool, lest we be overrun by an army of Ralph’s aka retards and his new retarded little friends. It’s a family values message, really, if your family values include eugenics and child-led homicide.

Don’t be fooled by the youthful cast; this is not a movie for your kindergartener, who in desperate need of Adderall breaks the teacher’s wrist when upset. It’s a darkly comedic case study of juvenile psychosis, exploring the vibrant world of kids who would make your local school’s behavioral problem look like a poet. We meet a pyro-girl, a hair-obsessed nun-impersonator, a mechanically gifted African American, Brian (discriminated against, who builds a custom death machine for Ralph), and David, a 12-year-old whose critique of a woman’s dress—“green goes with the color of my eyes”—adds a dash of fabulous flair to the murder spree. After efficiently dispatching their guardian, one tiny psychopath simply declares, “I am hungry,” reminding us that even budding serial killers need a “snack snack.” It’s a bizarre, inappropriate with nudity, and strangely pointed time capsule that suggests the real horror isn’t the ghosts that might emerge—it’s the little monsters already among us.