Another Period (2015) s02e04 Episode Script

1 Previously on Another Period Hamish learned Chair was having an affair with the commodore and decided to blackmail her.
Lillian slept with Hamish, hoping she would get some attention, but when all of the Bellacourt family's secrets appeared in the newspaper and a reporter wound up dead, Chair framed Hamish for the murder.
Confused? You won't be after this episode of Another Period.
Sounds like someone's got a case of the Mondays.
Oh, buddy, do you really want to spend what could be your last moments just pacing around in worry? You got to enjoy the little things, like sunlight or sitting on the very bucket you're pooping in.
- [keys jangle.]
- Hamish! You've got a visitor.
Now, keep it to deep kissing only.
We're not lovers! He's my brother.
[dramatic music.]
Deep kissing only.
What's the matter with you? You cannot tell anybody that we're brothers.
I don't care about keeping your little secrets anymore.
I die at sunset.
[sighs.]
I'm scared too.
Remember when we were younger, we used to play that game? Lighting Daddy's warehouse on fire for insurance money? No, not Jewish Lightning, dummy.
The other game, the vaginal description game.
Oh.
He never made it past first grade, but, my God, there was no one better at guessing what a woman's crinkle looked like than old Hamish.
Oh, that sounds like a hell of a time.
Do one now.
Do Mary Todd Lincoln.
Oh, I don't want to.
Not in the mood.
Lost your touch, eh? Yeah, right.
Powerful first impression.
Old man frowny face.
Smells of freedom, which smells like onions.
That is exactly right.
I know.
I paid for a glimpse at the state fair.
I have a gift.
Had a gift.
Hold tight, Hamish.
I'm going to get you freed.
Guard? While you're at it, is there any chance of you getting me freed too? We'll see.
He-- he said it like a yes.
It was a no.
I mean, you just got a bad attitude.
No, I know him.
He's a terrible person.
I want the money, I want the fame I want the whole world to know my name this is mine, I got to get it I got to get it, got, got to get it Another Period [lively classical music.]
Ah! Beatrice, what are you doing? Well, I can't go to trial without doing cocaine.
Well, why are you shooting it into your eyeballs? 'Cause it'll get to my brain faster.
Flobelle, do my hair into maize rows.
I, uh, don't do hair, my lady.
Oh, I guess I'll never stop being surprised around here.
Miss Lillian, I do hair.
Do you think I'd trust some pussy fanner to touch my head on a day like today? Get back down there and fan my pussy! I want it bone dry for the trial.
[sighs.]
Technically, Hamish is the one being tried, but I've been called to testify due to the fact that I'm his former lover.
And also I'm beautiful, charismatic, sexually intoxicating-- I just want to see someone die-- from hanging or firing squad or dynamite or even old age.
[clears throat.]
Yes.
Well, who doesn't? But let's not try to shift focus off of the person who matters here-- me.
Oh, give me the P.
But I wanted to wear Mr.
Plume.
Beatrice, I can't have you upstaging me.
If you want more attention, you should start sleeping with more murderers.
Fine.
Oh, great.
Cripple mom is here.
[laughs.]
Lillian, why are you dressed like a Prussian whore on payday? Lillian's wearing Mr.
P because she's the star witness and I'm not.
Just as I coached you, Beatrice.
Well, I don't have to coach anyone to convince myself I'm important.
It is my testimony that will determine whether Hamish lives or-- Dies! Dies.
Or dies.
See you in court, Chair.
Oh.
Ah! Help her with her drugs.
[whimpering.]
[stately classical music.]
Don't you see? Hamish is innocent.
I killed that reporter, and now Hamish stands to be executed for what I did, for my sin.
Guide me, o willow.
Yes.
Yes, of course.
You're right.
O willow, I must confess.
Yes, they will kill me, but I must be willing to face that.
And this, this being my last day, I shall live as I never have before.
Anyhoo, enough about me.
How are you? How are Fern and the kids? [lively electronic music.]
One more photo, ladies.
- One more.
- [women singing.]
Oh, my.
If it isn't Brussels Sheridan from "The Looky-Loo.
" Look, a woman smoking in public.
Real taboo stuff happening here.
Is that supposed to be some kind of political statement? Yes, you might want to write a little article about it.
And since you've asked, as survivor of a sexual encounter with a poor person, I-- If this trial continues, I will bathe myself in the blood of 12 pigs.
And I will eat those 12 pigs, rub their guts on my body, and set myself on fire if Hamish is not freed by sundown to be my star lover.
I was in the middle of a speech, gals.
I realize you're all having a psychic love affair-- Girls, over here.
Over here.
What about me? Get out of the photo! They're my backup dancers.
There are so many desperate things happening here, it's hard to decide which is the worst.
Oh! Oh.
[women singing.]
[screams.]
Judge Henson, it's very embarrassing that my employee is on trial for murder, so the quicker this goes away, the better.
I have another idea how justice can prevail.
According to Rhode Island state law, should no judge be present and qualified to try a case, any sworn federal officer may step in and act as judge.
Ah! Oh, Papa, I love my new dress.
Son, remember what we discussed.
Mm-hmm.
Well, with all due respect, Father, I am the selected official, and I will do whatever you say.
Which is to declare a Dogfight.
- No, mistrial.
- Yes, mistrial! Ooh, I love the feeling of this law hammer.
What's it called? [sighs.]
Who cares? I'm king of the lawyers.
[laughs.]
Bye, Father.
[solemn orchestral music.]
[grunting.]
Well, if it isn't my betrayer.
What do you want? I'm just here to do to you what you did to me.
Oh.
[chuckles.]
I'm gonna tell them about all the bad things you did to me and what a sad, sad girl that made me.
And while I'm doing that, I want you think about all the reasons why you shouldn't have blackmailed me.
Oh, well, at least I'll die being cranked by the best in the biz.
Oh, ain't nothing crippled about that hand, is there? - Oh.
- [coughs.]
Enjoy your blue balls.
No, no, no, no.
I hear they compliment a broken neck.
[yelps.]
No! Get back here! Oh, come on! Oh, come on! I need a release! Oh, God, please, if you can just grant me anything, help release me! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Wow.
Thanks, God.
[snoring.]
[clattering.]
All rise.
Now sit down if you're a sexual deviant.
Oh! Twain.
[hip-hop music.]
damn, what I got to say to get a piece of that? damn, what I got to say to get a piece of that? damn, what I got to say to get a piece of that? damn, what I got to say to get a piece of that? na-na, na-na Excuse me, sir.
Charleton Wimbledon representing the state.
Objection! Relevance? You're simply repeating legal terms you've heard before.
Is that correct? Overruled! Yeah, that's what it sounded like.
[clears throat.]
Mark Twain here.
America's premier storyteller stepping up to the bar for the defense.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury-- Sorry.
My mistake.
Women aren't allowed to serve on juries.
[laughter.]
My client may be a bad man.
Hell, he may have even killed Scoops LePue! The state rests.
Uh, you're not-- you're not the state.
I'm the state.
And you don't rest until the end of the trial.
Wanna bet? It's very disappointing.
- Not a great lawyer.
- No.
No.
It does me no great honor to tell you I indulged myself for the first and last time.
One, uh, rahvay-olay.
Ravioli? - Huh? - Ravioli.
Yes, uh, medium rare, please.
Prego.
Thank you.
I'm eating in a restaurant.
Your Honor, I think it may be time for me to call my first witness.
[clears throat.]
'Twas a cold October morning.
The pumpkins were ripe then and pregnant with possibility, like my pregnant friend Carla.
Poor Carla.
Autumn had sprinkled itself throughout the land.
It's really not her turn to speak.
Order! It is not your turn to speak, Lillian.
Thank you.
The state calls-- Oh.
Lillian Bellacourt.
[dainty classical music.]
Now, you've said that you and the defendant were lovers.
Can a woman who has laid with a man who has trouble getting an erection truly be called that man's lover? That's not really what we're here to determine tod-- I am the victim here.
- Traitor! - Curse you! You may have had his body, but we will have his soul! Your jealousy doesn't bother me.
I own what you crave! Oh, fuck you! - You're okay with all that? - Order! They're not really with me.
- Bitch! - Order! That bitch! If it please the court, I have to go number one.
Beatrice, would you take over for me, please? - Take over? - Me? - Yes.
- Oh! You can't just have someone-- I've never done anything like this before.
That's not-- that's a problem.
You can't just have anybody come up and be the judge.
- What are you doing? - Here I go! I don't know.
[giggles.]
Execute him.
No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
We're not there.
We need to have a trial.
Well, sorry.
I'm not perfect.
This is my first time.
This is not even your first time, because you're not a judge.
You're really hurting my feelings.
I'm sorry.
I don't mean to hurt your feelings.
You're forgiven.
Lillian, you may continue.
I don't know what I was talking about.
[traditional Italian music.]
Uno raviolo.
Ah, thank you.
Yes, please.
[inhales sharply.]
More.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
While I understand your point, I feel like murder should maybe be malum prohibitum instead of malum se.
I don't think it's internally naturally an evil thing.
Sometimes murder is justified, and maybe in Hamish's case, even though we know - Beatrice? - Oh, yes.
What were all those fancy words? What? Execute him.
Bye.
No, that was-- that was interesting.
That was good.
What she was saying was helpful.
Order, order, order.
Okay, everyone, I have a little announcement.
It was only number one, but I did it sitting down just in case.
[clears throat.]
Anyway, I am back from my break.
Oh, just in time for another break.
If anyone needs me, I will be in my chamber, playing a solo game of Duck, Duck, Goose.
[scattered conversations.]
[remixed classical music.]
[bell tolls.]
[bell tolls.]
Aye, missy! What are you doing up there? Who, me? Nothing.
Darling, this ain't a maypole for you to be dancing around.
This is a death machine.
I just like it when people go poof and then they aren't there anymore.
Oh.
Well, you'd make a good police officer, wouldn't you? [chuckles.]
You want to try it on for size? Mm-hmm.
Okay, well, you take the wonton criminal, and you put him up here like so.
And then you take the noose, and you slip it over his head, making sure to make it nice and tight.
And then you hang him until his eyes pop out of his head like cherry tomatoes in a day-old salad.
Tighter.
You know, it gets lonely down at the precinct.
[gasping.]
Tighter.
All right, even this is even weird for me.
[gasping.]
- You okay? - Uh-uh.
- Kelly, what are you doing? - Oy! You know you're not supposed to have women out here without me.
[laughs.]
Yeah, that's right.
Right, bring her in.
Ah, here you go, you wee sunflower, you.
Yeah, give her a nice kiss there.
[gasping.]
Kelly, she's dead! She's dead! Bring her back! - Bring her back.
- Oh, no.
- My goodness! - Oh, boy.
Oh, I can't do this! Oh, my God! Okay! We-- [all laughing.]
I didn't know what to do.
He came out Scoop's office with murder in his eyes.
He held a knife up to my pregnant belly and said, "Woman, if you tell a soul, I will cut your unborn baby out of you and hang it from the clock tower!" [crowd murmurs.]
You monster.
- He loves abortion.
- No! He's always aborting this and aborting that.
Anyway, I told him to leave me alone and I would never tell a soul.
But that poor man.
That poor Scoops LePue.
[crying.]
Your Honor, I know this is unorthodox, but I would like the opportunity to testify against my client.
What? You've cost me my entire savings, but you were worth it, ravioli.
What wonderful surprises await every bite of your mystery innards.
Mmm! Waiter! More Chianti.
Will there be anything else? We are about to close.
How long have I been here? Signore, you have been slicing that ravioli for almost three hours.
Oh, my goodness.
The trial.
Thank you, Giuseppe.
Arrivederci.
Arrivederci.
Grazie.
Mr.
Peepers, go! Italia is behind you.
Mr.
Crassus, would you say that you're an angry person? No, I would say that I'm a very calm and happy man.
What if I were to call you a filthy, stupid, bearded idiot? You take that back, you pile of shit! I'll kill you while your whole family watches, and then I'll kill them! I've killed men for less! Murder's my favorite! Oh! Oh! Damn it! I have no further questions.
It's a joke.
Well, I'm ready to render my "guilty" verdict.
[suspenseful music.]
- Hamish is innocent! - [people gasp.]
He has an alibi! He can prove it! [breathing heavily.]
He's just protecting the woman he's been having an affair with.
- Is it you? - I don't know.
- Her! - What? Martha, the-- the pig butcher's wife? I don't know that woman.
Enough of this martyrdom, son! Your life is on the line! Just before the trial, he was telling me what her feminine parts looked like.
Isn't that right? Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
Jeez, I, uh-- yes.
I didn't want to say anything, but we are having an affair.
That's not true.
I know just what her scrunchy looks like.
[laughs.]
It's dark, and-- and puffy, yes.
- Puffy? - Very puffy.
And-- and thinly lipped, like-- like carpaccio.
[laughs.]
Yeah, yeah.
It kind of resembles the coastline of New Hampshire.
Well, is that true? Is that what your vagina looks like? Well, I don't know what my vagina looks like.
I've never seen it.
Oh! I've seen a pig's vagina.
That's because we butcher pigs.
And I've seen a dog's vagina before - [gasps.]
- Just on the street.
Well, there's only one way to solve this mystery.
Show us.
I'll show mine.
It's tight and smells of chutney.
Lillian, have some dignity.
This is a court of law.
Ma'am, please stand up and show everyone your vagina.
If it pleases the court.
That remains to be seen.
[suspenseful music.]
[triumphant music.]
I give you the coastline of New Hampshire! [squeals happily.]
New Hampshire! Seems our problem has been solved.
What? No! No, no, no.
You can't decide a trial based on the shape of a woman's vagina.
That's not an alibi.
What is the matter with you people? The man is guilty! - This man is innocent! - [gasps.]
I killed Scoops LePue.
[both gasp.]
I killed Scoops LePue! No, no, I mean it.
I really did.
I-- I killed him.
I killed Scoops LePue.
- [banging gavel.]
- Order! And then I got his blood on my face.
all: I killed Scoops LePue.
- I killed Scoops LePue! - Order! I killed Poops LeScue! I would have killed Scoops LePue.
I was happy when he died.
[all talking.]
I killed Scoops LePue.
- What? - [silence.]
Oh, you did? Yeah, that works for me.
Yeah, me too.
I guess I didn't kill him.
- Off we go.
Come on.
- Okay, here we go.
No, I just got caught up in the moment.
I thought this was a thing we were all doing.
Sorry, you're coming with us.
[laughing.]
I'm free! Ha ha! I'm free! [triumphant music.]
Well, today was a complete waste.
Everyone ended up in the paper except me.
"Hamish Crassus Not Guilty.
" "Blonde Becomes the First Woman to Hold Gavel.
" "Vagina Shaped Just Like New Hampshire.
" I mean, who the hell knows what New Hampshire's shaped like? [ominous music.]
No! Will you eat with us? No, thanks.
I have somewhere to be.
[light upbeat music.]
Welcome home, Hamish.
- Welcome home.
- Thank you.
Did I tell you guys that I learnt to read? I did, I did.
I learnt.