Dinn Widdie Da Clown returns to The Dark Carousel not to play nice, not to sugarcoat, but to speak plainly and unapologetically about what it actually means to be a haunter. Coming straight out of Laurel’s House of Horror in Laurel, Maryland, this episode is about revenge in the real sense. Not bitterness, but reclaiming respect, pride, and identity in an industry that demands everything from you and rarely thanks you for it.

Dinn doesn’t hide behind the makeup. He talks about dedication, about showing up when it hurts, about earning your place through sweat, sacrifice, and consistency. He breaks down the passion that fuels him, the respect he carries for the craft, and the love and support that keeps him standing when the season ends and the lights shut off. This is not a performance. This is the mindset of someone who lives haunt life year round.

This episode reminds you that haunting is not just a job, a costume, or a scare. It is commitment. It is community. It is carrying the torch for those who take this seriously. Dinn Widdie Da Clown embodies that truth completely. No ego. No shortcuts. Just heart, grit, and loyalty to the industry that raised him.

This is what a true haunter sounds like when he stops playing a character and starts telling the truth.

This recap dives straight into the chaos, the artistry, and the unnerving dedication behind one of the most feral characters in the haunt world. The Brighton Banshee isn’t just a costume or a character… she’s a living, breathing psychological storm, and this episode cracks open the door to everything she pours into bringing that creature to life.

As the 2025 season closes out, she returns to The Dark Carousel to peel back her own layers, reflecting on the evolution of the Banshee, the emotional depth behind her performance, and the raw passion that fuels her night after night. She talks about how she built this twisted persona from the ground up, how she slips into the mindset of madness, and why this character means more to her than most people will ever understand.

It’s vulnerable. It’s intense. It’s the kind of conversation you only get with someone who doesn’t just play a monster… she becomes one.

This episode is a tribute to the heart behind the horror and to a performer who refuses to hold anything back.

For the 100th ride around this unhinged wheel of nightmares, Arthur and Steve decided subtlety can go cry in a corner. They show up fully transformed into Snagz and Mr. Sweets, stomping into the studio like two escaped fever dreams ready to break the internet.

This episode goes live with all the chaos the Dark Carousel faithful expect. Mr. Sweets (Steve) comes in swinging his bat like he’s conducting an orchestra of fear. Snagz (Arthur) looks like he crawled out of a meat locker, cackling like someone dared him to behave. Spoiler: he didn’t.

Then Arthur, in a moment of spectacular self-sabotage, hooks a TENS machine to “the boys.” It goes exactly how you think. He twitches, jerks, convulses, and basically Irish-step-dances in his chair while Steve tries not to pass out from laughing. The viewers get a live-action reminder that Arthur’s pain threshold is questionable at best, nonexistent at worst.

Between the costumes, the electric chaos, and the two of them roasting each other like it’s a competitive sport, this episode isn’t just a milestone. It’s a full-blown circus riot.

100 episodes. No filters. No brakes. No dignity.

This carousel will never stop spinning.

Tonight’s episode drags you straight into the workshop of Mason Lauster, the madman behind DreadWorks FX. This isn’t just makeup — it’s chaos bottled, shaken, and sprayed through an airbrush. Mason breaks down how he builds monsters that feel alive, the psychology behind haunt makeup, and the obsession it takes to keep an entire cast looking terrifying night after night. We dig into his past, his process, and the twisted passion that fuels every creature he creates.

If you’ve ever wondered what goes on inside the head of someone who crafts nightmares for a living… buckle up. This one hits deep.

This Carousel Never Stops Spinning.

She moves through the haunt world with the glow of nostalgic plastic pumpkins following her like loyal, grinning spirits. For 18 years, she’s poured her soul into this industry, shaping monsters with an airbrush gun that transforms bare skin into full-blown nightmares. Every blast of color carries intention, passion, and a craft sharpened by years of dedication.

Her old-school hearse sits quietly for now, resting like a slumbering beast. It’s down at the moment, but everyone knows it won’t be for long. When that engine growls back to life, it’ll return just as iconic as she is. Even parked, it feels like part of her legend.

Inside Pennhurst Asylum, her presence changes everything. She isn’t just brushing makeup onto actors. She’s breathing life into characters, building worlds on their skin, and pushing the boundaries of what haunt makeup can be. She’s proof that artistry isn’t just seen—it’s felt.

But beneath the horror she crafts is something far more powerful:

A sense of belonging.

A reminder that haunting isn’t just about scares.

It’s about family.

She gives hope to newcomers who feel lost, comfort to veterans who’ve forgotten their spark, and strength to anyone who needs a place in the chaos. Her work shows that haunting is more than a job. It’s a home for the weird, the creative, the passionate, and the broken.

This episode explores her journey, her airbrush artistry, her passion for Halloween treasures, and the light she brings into a world built from darkness.

She doesn’t just haunt.

She connects people.

She builds family.

And she reminds the entire industry why we fell in love with the dark in the first place.

In this emotionally charged and unfiltered episode of The Dark Carousel Podcast we welcome a phenomenal force from Field of Screams Maryland Avel

With nine years in the industry Avel has become more than just a performer in the fog They are a storyteller a truth-teller and a symbol of fearless self-expression in a world built on masks From the first scream to the final breath Avel shows us what it truly means to haunt not just the guests but the atmosphere the spirit and the moment itself

This conversation goes deep We explore the roots of their passion the creation of their character and the emotional strength it takes to live with authenticity in a world of shadows

Avel speaks on identity creativity discipline and purpose And through it all they remind us that haunting is not just an act It is a part of who they are

Whether you are a lifelong haunter a fan of the scene or someone who understands what it means to find yourself in darkness this episode will resonate in a powerful way

This carousel will never stop spinning

Step inside the madness. In this episode, we descend into the twisted domain of Snuggles—a performer whose terrifying presence at Woods of Terror is only matched by the passion that drives him. Beneath the smeared paint and grotesque smile lies a heart dedicated to the art of the scare. Every scream, every lunge, every chilling stare has meaning. This is more than just a costume. It’s a calling. We explore how he built his legacy one nightmarish step at a time, and how this craft became not just performance—but purpose. This isn’t just another haunt actor. This is a master at work. Welcome to Snuggles’ domain. You won’t come out the same.

This new episode is about confronting the weight of creation. It’s about how art made from blood makes people nervous but it also forces people to feel something real again. It’s about the way Vincent turns trauma into legacy. He walks right into his shadows and comes back with a masterpiece that can’t be faked. He takes the thing most people hide and uses it as the source of truth.

This episode isn’t sensational. It’s vulnerable. It’s uncomfortable. It’s human.

There’s this quiet power in hearing him speak plainly about why he does what he does. Not to shock. Not to offend. But because the soul deserves a medium that can’t lie. A medium that can’t be separated from the person who lived the pain.

This is what The Dark Carousel Podcast does when it’s at its best. You tap into the secret pulse beneath the haunt world. You find the ones who have carved something true out of all the things most people bury.

Vincent didn’t show you theatrics.

He showed you blood as memory.

Blood as ink.

Blood as proof we’re here.

🎠The carousel will never stop spinning.🎠