A Civic Engagement Experience
Don't Dream It — Vote It
For fifty years, Rocky Horror has been a sanctuary for weirdos, misfits, and free spirits — people who refused to be told how to dress, who to love, or what to believe.
That sanctuary is under threat. The antidote is the same it's always been:
show up, make noise, and do the Time Warp.
The Voting Time Warp
…and then you register to vote. Four steps. No sequins required.
Why This Matters
Rocky Horror has always been a space where the different, the queer, the outrageous, and the defiant could breathe. That space exists because people fought for it. Not by wishing for it — by showing up.
Fascism doesn't announce itself with a villain monologue. It arrives through voter suppression, apathy, and the quiet erosion of the things that let us be weird together.
Voting isn't the only tool in the toolbox. But it's the one with a Tuesday deadline, and it matters.
Vote.org →"Don't dream it, be it."
By the numbers
50
states covered by Vote.org's free civic tools
8M+
young people eligible to vote for the first time in 2026
Registration Deadlines
Pick your state to see how to register — online, by mail, or in person — and a live countdown to your registration deadline for the November 3, 2026 midterm election.
Time left to register
Deadlines are based on Vote.org’s voter registration deadlines and calculated from Election Day, November 3, 2026. Rules can change — double-check with your state election office before you wait until the last minute.
Host a RockyTheVote Event
Whether you live in a rain-soaked castle or a sleepy little Denton — this is for you.
A RockyTheVote gathering is exactly what it sounds like: bring your people together, have an outrageously good time, and make sure everyone leaves registered. It doesn't need to be fancy. It needs to be yours.
The classic. A full RHPS showing with a voter registration table. Works anywhere you can project.
Performance first. Voter registration between acts. Sequins mandatory, ballots encouraged.
Living room democracy. Laptop on the coffee table, toast in hand, small group and real conversations.
Work with a local venue. Costume contest, themed drinks, a registration station at the door.
Host Scripts
"I didn't invite you all here to simply watch a film. I invited you here because you are — each of you — exactly the kind of magnificent, strange, glorious creature that someone, somewhere, is trying very hard to erase. And I find that... deeply unacceptable."
"There's a table near the entrance. On that table is a laptop. And on that laptop is the single most effective thing you can do — short of building a castle — to preserve your right to be exactly this weird for the rest of your life. Register to vote. Do it tonight. Do it while you're wearing that. They will absolutely hate that."
"Before we proceed — and we will proceed in style — I want to know who among you has not yet registered. Don't be shy. This is not a judgment. This is an opportunity. My people will find you. They have toast."
"Okay, I know this isn't exactly why you came tonight — and I promise the movie is happening and it is going to be wonderful. But I need about two minutes of your time first, because something is genuinely worrying me, and I think it might be worrying you too."
"The people in this room — the people who show up to something like this — you are exactly the people whose voices matter most right now. Not because you're special, although you kind of are. Because people who feel like they don't fit are the first people authoritarian systems go after. That's history. And voting is one of the things we can do about it. I know it doesn't feel like enough. It's not enough on its own. But it's real, and it's tonight, and there's a table by the door."
"If you're already registered, thank you. Genuinely. If you're not — please. Before you leave. It takes four minutes. We'll be here."
"Fifty years. This film has been running for fifty years. Every October, in theaters like this one — or rooms like this one — people keep choosing to show up. In costume. With toast. Despite everything."
"There is a registration table in this building. I'm not going to tell you it will fix everything. It won't. I'm not going to tell you it's fun. It isn't, particularly. What I will tell you is that the alternative — not voting, not showing up, deciding it doesn't matter — has been tried. It has a documented track record. I recommend against it."
"The table is there. The laptop is open. Someone from our group will help you. We'll get on with the evening."
"OKAY EVERYBODY LISTEN UP — I know, I know, you came here for the movie and the props and the absolute chaos and we are GETTING TO THAT — but first — FIRST — we are going to talk about something that I genuinely cannot stop thinking about and I think you can't either."
"Look around this room right now. Look at us. Are you seeing this? This is who we are. This is what we've always been. And there are people — powerful people — who have decided that we should be scared. That we should be quiet. That we should go home and be normal and stop making such a fuss. And my response to that — my sincere, heartfelt, deeply considered response — is: absolutely not and also we will register to vote while wearing this. TONIGHT. There is a table. There is a laptop. There is a person who will help you and she has excellent glitter."
"Who's already registered? SCREAM IF YOU'RE REGISTERED. Okay amazing, now — who ISN'T? No shame! The table is open! Go! GO! We'll wait! We have props!"
We've been doing the Time Warp since 1975.
We're not stopping now.
Register. Vote. Show up in costume if you have to.
Just show up.