In the olden, olden days a "penny dreadful" was a cheap, shitty book that was only worth a penny. You know, like something Dean R. Koontz would puke up. The Penny in this movie is a person though; she's afraid of cars because she was in an accident once, so her shrink convinces her to take a road trip to where the accident happened so she can be cured. I know a lot of psychiatrists read this site so I'm just throw this question out there: Is taking someone back to where the horror all began really a valid psychological approach? Either way it sure doesn't work out this time: due to a series of moronic circumstances Penny ends up locked inside the car, in the middle of the woods, with a flat tire, a blown engine, no cell phone service, and a twisted ankle. During a storm. With a corpse. And there's a homicidal maniac creeping around. Also she's in a wheelchair, she's handcuffed to a dead negro, and she has hysterical blindness. Okay, I'm kidding about some of that, but they might as well have thrown it all in there for how ridiculous this shit is. The only part of this flick that doesn't suck ass is some brief tit action supplied by a scrumptious little blonde who has absolutely nothing to do with the story but was the best thing about it anyway. Thank you, little blonde. Thank you for making 1% of this movie worth watching.