Every night, vampires come out to feed on the living. Every full moon, werewolves make their transformations. But every first Saturday of the month, a different type of ghoul emerges. This is because the first Saturday of each month is another showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show (RHPS).

The RHPS is a cult classic, with roots from the late 1960s. RHPS viewers discover the film is actually a rock ballad, not a horror film. It is based around the strange and quirky plot of a couple getting lost in the middle of Transylvania and finding a spooky castle with eccentric residents and a mad scientist who wants to bring his lover back to life.

What makes the RHPS a unique movie experience is the fan interaction with the film. A cast of ghostly thespians acts out the entire movie in front of the screen. The spectators, however, are encouraged to shout obscenities at the antagonists and throw props such as rice and toilet paper.

Upon arriving at the theater I was astonished to see a line out the door extending 100 feet down the sidewalk. Gripped by mind-numbing fear, I walked past the hordes of scantily clad women in lingerie and a half-naked guy selling tranny packs.

Inside, one of the actors called all first time viewers, or virgins, to come forward for initiation. This was no Chevy’s birthday celebration; the lead man called at the top of his lungs, “Attitude check!” and was answered by “F-ck you!” from all the virgins.

The leader then picked four random virgins and had the rest sit down. I was pretty sure the next thing would involve blood drained from chickens. Instead, there was some sort of absurd sexual innuendo. The rest of the cast brought out four whipped cream pies and the virgins were to find the cherry in the pies with their mouths. Unfortunately for the virgins, there were no cherries, and they ended up just eating a tin full of whipped cream.

I had been transported into a parallel dimension where vampires, zombies, prostitutes and transvestites were supposed to be loud and obnoxious during the movie. The ensuing sensation was one of bewilderment and amusement. It was like watching a play and a cinematographic disaster simultaneously.

The movie itself was awful. I had no clue as to what I was watching. If it had been possible to hear the movie over the yelling and lines being thrown around, I probably would have left and asked for my money back.

There was singing and dancing, crazy rock and roll and an alien fight scene at the end. In actuality, the RHPS film was worse than the fourth Indiana Jones.

I left, however, completely enthralled and craving more of the zany antics of the RHPS. The performance, yelling, screaming, throwing of props and otherwise inconsiderate behavior was liberating. I had always wanted to swear loudly, throw toilet paper at the people behind me and see lots of women in lingerie at the movies. To some, this kind of behavior would be obnoxious.

Yet, the RHPS took a yellow-bellied suburban teenager like me and turned me into a crazed lunatic. Whether you like it or not, the RHPS will turn the mundane world upside down, juggle it a couple of times and then turn it inside out, just for kicks.

If people are looking for an extraordinary movie experience or just need a change of pace, they should go join the other weirdos at the Guild Theater of Menlo Park on El Camino on the first Saturday night of each month for $8.