In life, rock and roll rebel Johnny was the laughing stock of his peers; in death, the slick haired corpse rises from a watery grave to ensure that those who once mocked him never get the chance to laugh again. At the onset of the free love era, some folks just weren't willing to hang up their blue suede shoes. Johnny "Flick" Taylor was a withdrawn Teddy Boy whose refusal to change with the times set him apart from the pack. A laughable relic of a bygone era to those who valued trend over substance, Johnny's sole refuge was the Palace Dance Hall. Come Friday night Johnny would be out on the dance floor shaking and jiving, his eyes steadily fixed on the beautiful Sally Andrews. One weekend, after months of reigning in his stutter, Johnny finally works up the courage to ask Sally for a dance. Instantly rejected by Sally and mercilessly beaten by her group of male admirers, Johnny flies into a murderous rage in which he kills and maims his oppressors before tossing Sally in the back seat of his car and punching the gas. In the ensuing chase Johnny's car spun out of control and went careening into a nearby river, though Sally miraculously managed to escape and make her way to safety. Forty years later Johnny's car is recovered from the river, the murderous young rebel's fists still clutching the steering wheel. Johnny's story isn't over yet though. It seems that the sounds of Rock-A-Billy radio have the power to bring the undead rebel screaming back to life, but only between the hours of midnight and two o' clock in the morning as the sounds of the fifties fill the airwaves. Now, as the supernaturally charged outcast embarks on a vengeful mission to slaughter those who scorned him and take sixty-two year old Sally on a ride she'll never forget, a Memphis cop on an exchange program from the UK must find a way to stop the music that drives the Brylcreem-slathered ghoul's dreadful rampage.