This film was pants-wettingly-scary, plenty of jump out of-your-skin moments.
True story: In 1984, my girlfriend and I went to see a Friday the 13th movie on a rainy, Easter Sunday before her parents took us back to Miami University. I remember thinking it was odd that there were so many small children in the same theater.
The movie was laughably bad, which is not always a bad thing with me. As I was explaining to my girlfriend that Jason was surely about to grab his next victim from under the stairs I paused long enough to jump out of my seat and somehow leap completely over her, landing on her lap and screaming the rest of my snarky comments about how predictable a movie it was into her ear, all because Jason Voorhees grabbed his next victim from under the stairs.
Better than drugs.