If you’ve ever watched a horror anthology and thought, “This is fun, but I wish it felt more like a performance review in Hell,” Brimstone Incorporated is here to help. This microbudget indie leans hard into its premise: three tales of bad decisions, worse luck, and questionable life choices, all filtered through a bureaucratic afterlife where demons are basically middle management.
It’s scrappy, self-aware, occasionally rough around the edges, and exactly the sort of film that knows it’s small and leans into personality over polish. Think Tales from the Crypt meets an underfunded law firm.
The Wraparound: Tempter & Associates – Hell, LLC
The frame story, “Tempter and Associates,” is where the film quietly wins you over. Drew Fortier plays Gregory Asmodeus, a demon who isn’t so much a roaring beast of darkness as he is a bored office worker in a suit. His job?
Interview the newly dead.
Listen to their excuses.
Decide whether they belong in Hell.
He works for Damien Tempter (subtle, this movie is not—and bless it for that), a kind of underworld boss who runs damnation like a corporate entity. There are desks. Procedures. Files. It’s less Dante’s Inferno, more Satan’s HR onboarding.
Each character from the three segments gets hauled in for a postmortem debrief, trying to spin their behavior in the best possible light. It’s like an eternal exit interview where the only severance package is eternal suffering.
Fortier is low-key the MVP here. He plays Gregory with a sardonic, deadpan charm—more over-it office drone than cackling fiend. He’s not just there to introduce the stories; he actively reframes them by how he questions each soul, giving the wraparound a little bite instead of just functioning as connective tissue.
“First Date” – When Tinder Goes to Hell
The first segment is “First Date,” and it hits that very specific horror sweet spot: the moment a social situation turns from painfully awkward to “oh no, this person has a weapon.”
We meet Richard (played by James L. Edwards himself), a man enduring an awkward blind date with Renee (Shianne Daye) in a quiet diner. At first, it feels like a familiar kind of misery:
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The conversation is stilted.
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Renee is far more intense than the situation calls for.
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Richard radiates the energy of a man who just realized he should’ve stayed home and eaten cereal.
Then it escalates. Spectacularly.
Renee’s “overbearing” nature shifts from clingy to dangerous, and when she figures out Richard doesn’t feel the same way she does, she doesn’t cry, pout, or block him on social media. She escalates to taking the diner hostage.
Honestly, there’s a darkly cathartic logic here. How many catastrophic dates have you sat through where you wishedsomeone would just end it by causing a minor incident, if only to break the tension? First Date takes that impluse and cranks it to 11.
The segment succeeds because it keeps things tight and focused:
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One location
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A small number of characters
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A simple setup that spirals
It’s not subtle, but it’s sharp enough to leave a mark. Shianne Daye’s Renee is unhinged in exactly the right way: half tragic, half terrifying, and just believable enough that you rethink every “nice to meet you” you’ve ever said to a stranger.
And later, when Gregory in Hell listens to Richard’s version of events, you get that extra bitter chuckle: everyone’s the victim in their own story… even the guy who survived a romantic war crime.
“Mama’s Boy” – Helicopter Parenting, But With Demons
Second up: “Mama’s Boy,” the strongest of the three and the one that feels closest to a small, nasty campfire tale wrapped in psychological barbed wire.
Here we have Priscilla Parker (Sasha Graham), an overprotective mother who could smother plants just by worrying about them too hard. Her adult son Justin (Tim Hale) resents her, as adult sons with horror-movie moms tend to do. He blames her for ruining his love life because every girlfriend he brings home mysteriously vanishes from the narrative with alarming frequency.
At first, it looks like a classic “overbearing mom sabotages relationships” story, and you’re fully ready to judge her. Then the twist comes:
Priscilla isn’t just being controlling for fun—she’s protecting Justin from a demon that has a vendetta against her.
This demon possesses Justin’s girlfriends, one after another, just to torment Priscilla. Her solution? Murder the possessed dates before the demon can harm her son. So yes, she has been ruining his relationships… she’s just been doing it with knives and good intentions.
It’s gloriously messed up.
“Mama’s Boy” works on multiple levels:
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As a metaphor for toxic, overbearing parenting: the mom who “protects” her kid so much they never get to have a normal life.
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As a supernatural revenge story: the demon playing a long, malicious game of emotional torture.
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As a character study: Priscilla is both monstrous and weirdly sympathetic.
Sasha Graham absolutely commits to the role. She’s composed on the surface, but you can see the exhaustion and panic simmering underneath. She’s done terrible things out of love and fear, and in Hell’s little interview room, she has to somehow explain that “technically, the demon started it.”
Gregory’s presence in the wraparound adds an extra layer of dark comedy—because how exactly do you classify that? Matricidal, self-sacrificial, demon-fighting helicopter mom? HR is going to need a new checkbox for that.
“Skunk Weed” – Reefer Badness, Literally
The last segment, “Skunk Weed,” goes all-in on stoner horror. It stars Bennie Simmons, an agoraphobic jingle writer whose life is already small, contained, and not wildly stable even before the drugs show up.
His brother sends him a care package featuring a new strain of weed. Bennie, like any reasonable shut-in with a package and nothing better to do, lights up.
From there, things get weird:
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He starts seeing creatures.
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Morbid hallucinations pile up.
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The line between reality and paranoia dissolves faster than his self-control.
It’s a fun, trashy little descent into madness, playing like a PSA from an alternate universe where “this is your brain on drugs” comes with actual monsters. Rick Jermain sells Bennie’s meltdown pretty well—swinging between terrified, confused, and pathetically resigned.
And then the punchline hits: his spiral into insanity and destruction is indirectly caused by a missed fumigation notice. He didn’t vacate for the building’s pesticide treatment. So those “creatures”? Those visions? It’s what happens when agoraphobia, weed, and chemical exposure team up to absolutely ruin your week.
It’s mean, it’s absurd, and it lands more as a grim joke than as genuine terror, but that’s kind of the point. This is the “darkly comic misfortune” entry of the bunch: a man trapped by his own fear of the outside world, destroyed by the unseen dangers inside his own home.
It’s the weakest of the three narratively, but still fits tonally into the anthology’s bleak sense of humor: Hell is full of people whose lives fell apart over small bureaucratic oversights and terrible timing.
Anthology Vibes: Low Budget, High Personality
Look, Brimstone Incorporated is not pretending to be a slick studio horror juggernaut. You can see the seams:
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The budget is clearly modest.
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The effects are more practical than polished.
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Some performances are better than others.
But it’s also clearly made by people who love the genre and understand what makes horror anthologies fun:
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Distinct segments with different tones and flavors
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A cohesive wraparound story that actually matters
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Characters who are all, in their own ways, messes
The framing with Hell as a corporate entity is a clever touch. It gives the whole film a sense of cohesion and adds a darkly comic perspective: in the end, all these terrible, tragic, and ridiculous lives get funneled into the same fluorescent-lit afterlife office, where their grand justifications become just another stack of files.
Final Verdict: Damned, But In a Fun Way
Brimstone Incorporated is scrappy, uneven, and occasionally rough—but also genuinely entertaining, surprisingly thoughtful in places, and packed with just enough bite and black humor to keep you invested.
If you’re into:
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Old-school horror anthologies
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Morally messy characters trying to talk their way out of eternal punishment
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Stories that mix gore, irony, and a touch of tragic absurdity
…this is absolutely worth a watch.
Think of it as a tour through Hell’s intake department: three cautionary tales, one sardonic demon interviewer, and a reminder that at the end of it all, we’re all just one bad decision away from an awkward sit-down with someone like Gregory Asmodeus asking, “So… how do you think you did?”
