Another Period (2015) s02e10 Episode Script
The Duel
1 Previously on Another Period Well, I met a boy I like.
[giggles.]
Laverne Fussleforth the fifth.
What do you say about getting married in, oh, I don't know, the next 45 minutes or so? We'll have to wait for Bertram.
I can't have a wedding without my grandson here.
How wonderful to finally meet you, Grandma! I might be in love with Hortense.
What could you possibly see in Hortense? Well, I suppose I don't see much of anything on account of my glaucoma.
[yells.]
Earthworms don't change into butterflies, Chair.
Someone took photos of us.
Sexual photographs, Beatrice.
You're no longer welcome here.
Oh, Frederick! Get ye to a nunnery! Mother? Beatrice, I live here.
May I have the ring, please? Put it on my finger.
[hip-hop music.]
[groans.]
[crowd gasps.]
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 [crowd gasping.]
Everyone just relax.
Laverne's just taking a nap.
Give him some air! I am a registered Red Cross lady of the Perpetual Watch.
[dramatic music.]
[groans.]
Oh, oh, I think he's just playing charades.
[laughs.]
Sack of onions! Dead industrialist! Does anyone else have any guesses? Oh, my God.
Laverne has passed.
[exclaims.]
No! You think you're "no"? I'm no! No! Laverne is in a better place now-- not engaged to Lillian.
Oh, but this still counts though, right? Listen up, everyone.
There's something I must confess.
Laverne was very old! [crowd gasping.]
Yes, it is true.
I've known for some time.
But let me say this-- Grandpa loved life, but more than that, he loved love, and I love you [giggles.]
- Hortense.
- [sighs.]
[swelling instrumental music.]
Where's Grandpa's ring? - Here it is.
- No, that's my ring! Well, seeing as you never actually married Laverne, I am the legal heir to his possessions and fortunes, so technically it's my ring.
But actually, it's Hortense's ring if she'll have it.
Wait, is this even legal? I don't know.
I'm ship captain.
Yes! I will marry you! Wait! You've never even seen her.
By Job, you're right.
I want to see my beautiful bride.
But should we check with the doctor before you take those off? And how necessary is it really to see the bride before one's marriage? Oh, foo-fah! I want to see your face, damn it.
[tense music.]
So bright.
So clear.
I can see.
Oh, my heavens.
You're Hortense? [laughs.]
You're much more beautiful than I ever could've imagined.
[exclaiming.]
[laughing.]
[applause.]
No! [laughing.]
I'm so happy! I'm so happy! [laughing.]
[upbeat classical music.]
[dramatic music.]
[yells.]
God.
Oh, God.
Fuck, yes.
Beatrice, you do not need to flagellate yourself to get into heaven.
This is the fifth time I'm telling you this.
Oh, I know.
I was doing it just in case.
This may sound dramatic, but I really don't want to go to hell.
My dear [clears throat.]
Sit down.
You are not going to go to hell.
Only people who don't believe exactly as we do are going there.
Right.
Except for people I like.
No, people you like will be going to hell.
A lot of them.
- What? - Oh, yes.
One day you'll see someone you love, and that's really wonderful, but the next day, just know that they'll be drinking and smoking and eating taffy at the gates of hell.
Drinking and smoking and eating taffy at the gates of hell? God works in mysterious ways, but the devil works in plain sight.
Well, what about Lillian? - She's not going to hell, right? - Tell me about this Lillian.
Well, she sins all the time and she doesn't believe in anything, but deep down, she's really pretty.
She's gonna go to hell.
- Oh, no.
- Oh, yes.
Maybe I should flagellate on her behalf.
- No.
- [yells.]
Yeah, no, I don't think that'll help.
You cannot save another person.
If that were the case, then the Lord would save all of mankind and no one would go to hell.
Why doesn't he? Well, because.
Oh, yeah.
The best thing you can do for those you love is forcefully push your beliefs upon them.
Thank you.
Oh.
[yells.]
[hip-hop music.]
[static crackling.]
[light piano music.]
Sweet Dodo, may I have this one last dance? Oh.
[clears throat.]
- [yells.]
- [laughs.]
Tits on a frog! Oh, we've done it! It's official-- the Bellacourt fortune has been saved.
Yes, and now it's time to make us official.
Oh, you're right.
[classical music.]
To love.
To money.
[laughter.]
I'm a simple girl.
All I want is a little RBP-- rubies, beluga, and property.
And here we go, you retched, horrible creature.
Soup for you, you hideous old child.
[choral music.]
Eat up, old hobo.
Gee, thanks, missus.
'Tis the best bowl of soup I ever did eat, I did.
Oh, I almost forgot.
You've been served.
[stammering.]
They're divorce papers.
You are not an easy woman to track down.
Shit on my tits! all hands on the limousine, bitch [light piano music.]
Brunch, did you recently catch obesity? Oh! [laughs.]
You're fat.
Well, sir, it's Blanche, and no, I am with child.
- Oh.
- [laughs.]
Well, that would be adorable if not for your chilling lack of a partner and basement-level social standing.
It's sad.
My husband and I are going to raise this child together.
Victor, would you ever want to have a child? Sometimes I hunger for a womb of my own.
Yes.
Yes, I think with my thin, aristocratic blood and my familial propensity towards large-scale violence, this child would have sure footing in this life.
I'd be willing to rear my own spawn if it had almond-shaped eyes and dressed primarily in sailor suits.
Mm.
Forgive me, but don't you both have multiple children already? - [scoffs.]
- Oh, my God.
Are you brain damaged or just organically stupid? Not from our wives.
Love child.
Yeah.
A child who would have mud-brown hair, very straight spine.
His name would be Tiberius and he would only communicate through dance.
Tiberius, handsome name.
Like the proud Roman emperor who oversaw the administrative apparatus that killed Christ.
Oh! I have a wonderful idea.
We will take her child and raise it as our own.
Mm.
Well, what if it's a girl? Well, we do live next to the Atlantic Ocean.
We can teach her to sail with the old heave-ho.
[both laugh.]
[laughing.]
We would drown her.
swear I'm always on grinding 24 and all - Hi, Mother.
- Oh! - [exclaims.]
- It's me.
I stowed away like a piece of luggage.
What are you doing here? - I'm on a very special mission.
- So am I.
I'm going to get Lillian to repent for all her sins so I don't have to go to the heaven party alone.
Please let me come.
I hate going to parties by myself.
Aren't you worried about Frederick finding out? He and his henchmen seem quite intent on keeping you in the abbey.
Mother, I can't be in danger with God protecting me.
It's not always as black and white as that.
Yes, it is.
Look at my outfit.
That is not actually a refutation of the argument.
Well, I'm not worried about my reputation.
Now that I'm saved, God will give me anything I want and nothing bad can ever happen.
That's how it works.
[mellow pop music.]
- in my dream - in my dream you're there in a warm embrace a warm embrace Welcome home, Lady Dodo.
And me, Beatrice.
I'm here too as well.
Yes, and Lady Beatrice.
Peepers, do you have your horsehair brush? Of course, madam.
Shall I brush your hair? No, the carriage rolled through a pile of cow shit.
Scrub the wheels.
Yes, madam.
And in that moment, I've never been more proud to be head butler.
[hip-hop music.]
It's been a long while since I've been home.
Well, it's not really your home anymore, is it? Welcome to my home, Dodo.
I have nothing to say to you.
I need audience with the Commodore.
[groans.]
His schedule has been so busy, what with making love to me and buying me everything I want, but I'll check and see if he has an opening other than my vagina.
[retching.]
Beautiful morning for a garbage dump, isn't it? Yes, the breeze really brings out the trash notes in the garbage.
[garbage clattering.]
Yes.
There's something almost romantic about it.
[garbage clattering.]
Cliffside garbage dump, huh? [chuckles.]
Oh, just the thought of it makes me horny.
Hamish we were having a private conversation.
Garfield, you know when you're taking a piss, you're like, "Wait a second, when's the last time I drank a bottle of hot sand and broken glass?" Ho! 'Cause that's what's coming out of it.
I don't-- I don't know that.
[sighs.]
Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on there.
Don't throw that away, huh? Cheese never goes bad, but I bet you do, right? [grunting.]
Please.
That really hurts.
Makes me feel very unsafe.
[stammers.]
I'm sorry.
I-- you don't know this-- why would you? But that-- that actually was a major setback for me, saying that.
It's a thing I do.
Sexualizing women, it's-- it's really just insecurity, or rather self-hatred masking as aggression.
I-- I read that in a book.
I just learned to read, by the way.
[whimpering.]
Sorry.
I'll go.
[sighs.]
Oh, Laverne, I wish I knew you longer.
Maybe you had more worldly possessions than this lap blanket.
I guess I'll never know.
[exclaims.]
[ethereal music.]
What else can I burn? [yells.]
[sobbing.]
Oh, Lillian, there you are.
[dramatic music.]
Beatrice, would you like some [in distorted voice.]
taffy? That's the devil's chew! [yells.]
Don't take this the wrong way, but you're going to hell.
Because of taffy? No, but the good news is I'm here to save you.
Laverne is dead.
Hortense is married.
[hiccups.]
I'm drunk.
No, Lillian, listen to me.
All you have to do is say you're sorry for everything you've ever done and you can attend the heaven party with me.
The only thing I'm sorry about is that this cocaine wine bottle's empty.
[sobs.]
[exclaims.]
Now I'm gonna go do some drugs and drink all the liquor in the house.
And then you'll say you're sorry? Uh no.
[laughs.]
But I'm trying to stop you from going to hell! This is really bad.
[hip-hop music.]
Dodo! I know what you're going to say.
Oh, that I find divorce embarrassing? A social failure befitting the likes of a Scottish viscount? No.
That I would be the first woman in my family's 3,000-year lineage to end a marriage for a reason other than a bear attack? No, that you want me back.
Oh, I assure you, I do not.
This charade has gone on long enough.
I'm prepared to sign the papers.
Like a fingerless man attempting to operate a doorknob, I know when I've been defeated, but I'm going to want a few things-- the October home in Prague, the eldest emu, the little man that we bring out every Christmas to scare the carolers.
- Terence.
- No! No Terence! No homes, no large flightless birds.
You get nothing! Commie, you're not really going to let her to do this? You gave all my money away to charity.
Dodo, this seems like justice.
Well [sighs.]
I suppose I'll just take the abbey then.
Wait.
We own an abbey? Yes, the Newport Abbey and Balsamic Vinegar Sanctuary.
You see, I-- I need a place to go to live out my life in my solitary humiliation.
Well, that shouldn't be a problem, Dorothea.
No.
When I say I want it all, I want it all [dramatic piano music.]
From bean to bar, nook to nunnery.
[whispering.]
You get nothing.
Darling, who gives a crap? We've the Fussleforth fortune.
I give a crap! I want your money, your man, and your dignity.
Oh, my dignity? Suck a plum, that's good.
I'm giving you almost everything, and you know deep inside you're worth nothing.
You'll never be better than that Montreal brothel in which you were spawned, you miscreant floozy.
I'd be careful.
She won't have sex with you if you talk like that.
I might be a miscreant floozy, but I'm the miscreant floozy who's gonna own that abbey.
Well, I suppose there's only one respectable way to settle this-- with a duel.
I will gladly duel you, old hag.
A duel! [groans.]
What the hell is going on here? Um, Lady Beatrice locked up the liquor.
Oh, that little bitch is gonna find God sooner than she thinks.
Oh, Garfield, I need alcohol! Where can I find alcohol? Where? Where? Where? Where? Where? Well, at the-- there's always a bar.
A bar? A bar of what? A bar is a place where people go to drink alcohol.
Oh.
Take me to this bar you speak of.
I want to go where nobody knows my name.
[claps.]
Madam, Mademoiselle.
[dramatic music.]
Your dueling swords.
Whoever draws blood first wins.
In the event of a tie, we will do a sudden death round wherein whoever suffers a sudden death loses.
Mademoiselle.
En guard! Aging madame.
And one, two, buckle my shoe.
Let us go and have a duel! Lillian? Mary, have you seen Lillian? [eerie music.]
Oh.
Mary, don't be afraid.
I'm a child of God now.
You can tell me.
You can tell me anything.
As long as it's not a den of sin or a place where alcohol is served, no harm will come to you or your family.
Where is she, Mary? Where is she? Ah, yes.
Classic Double Conundrum.
Pig in a Poke, Reverse Foghat, Schoolmarm's Got a Secret, and Hooray for the Circus Boy.
[laughs.]
[exclaiming.]
Where's my Caustic?, Backwards Bishop, A Rose for a Mute, and a Portuguese Goodbye! [upbeat music.]
Paling into a Gypsy's Rendezvous.
It's time for you to fold, Chair.
Never, you bitch! My glasses! [yells.]
Oh, A Poke For Polly.
[giggles.]
[yelling.]
[yells.]
[yells.]
[laughs.]
Well, there was a great bit of swashing and buckling from both sides, but I think it's very clear that Celine "Chair" Bouffant is the victor.
[laughs.]
Look at you.
I have your family, you fortune, your manor.
[dramatic music.]
Everything.
[laughs.]
You're right.
You've won.
Just kill me.
You're pathetic.
Keep your little abbey.
[giggles.]
Laverne Fussleforth the fifth.
What do you say about getting married in, oh, I don't know, the next 45 minutes or so? We'll have to wait for Bertram.
I can't have a wedding without my grandson here.
How wonderful to finally meet you, Grandma! I might be in love with Hortense.
What could you possibly see in Hortense? Well, I suppose I don't see much of anything on account of my glaucoma.
[yells.]
Earthworms don't change into butterflies, Chair.
Someone took photos of us.
Sexual photographs, Beatrice.
You're no longer welcome here.
Oh, Frederick! Get ye to a nunnery! Mother? Beatrice, I live here.
May I have the ring, please? Put it on my finger.
[hip-hop music.]
[groans.]
[crowd gasps.]
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 [crowd gasping.]
Everyone just relax.
Laverne's just taking a nap.
Give him some air! I am a registered Red Cross lady of the Perpetual Watch.
[dramatic music.]
[groans.]
Oh, oh, I think he's just playing charades.
[laughs.]
Sack of onions! Dead industrialist! Does anyone else have any guesses? Oh, my God.
Laverne has passed.
[exclaims.]
No! You think you're "no"? I'm no! No! Laverne is in a better place now-- not engaged to Lillian.
Oh, but this still counts though, right? Listen up, everyone.
There's something I must confess.
Laverne was very old! [crowd gasping.]
Yes, it is true.
I've known for some time.
But let me say this-- Grandpa loved life, but more than that, he loved love, and I love you [giggles.]
- Hortense.
- [sighs.]
[swelling instrumental music.]
Where's Grandpa's ring? - Here it is.
- No, that's my ring! Well, seeing as you never actually married Laverne, I am the legal heir to his possessions and fortunes, so technically it's my ring.
But actually, it's Hortense's ring if she'll have it.
Wait, is this even legal? I don't know.
I'm ship captain.
Yes! I will marry you! Wait! You've never even seen her.
By Job, you're right.
I want to see my beautiful bride.
But should we check with the doctor before you take those off? And how necessary is it really to see the bride before one's marriage? Oh, foo-fah! I want to see your face, damn it.
[tense music.]
So bright.
So clear.
I can see.
Oh, my heavens.
You're Hortense? [laughs.]
You're much more beautiful than I ever could've imagined.
[exclaiming.]
[laughing.]
[applause.]
No! [laughing.]
I'm so happy! I'm so happy! [laughing.]
[upbeat classical music.]
[dramatic music.]
[yells.]
God.
Oh, God.
Fuck, yes.
Beatrice, you do not need to flagellate yourself to get into heaven.
This is the fifth time I'm telling you this.
Oh, I know.
I was doing it just in case.
This may sound dramatic, but I really don't want to go to hell.
My dear [clears throat.]
Sit down.
You are not going to go to hell.
Only people who don't believe exactly as we do are going there.
Right.
Except for people I like.
No, people you like will be going to hell.
A lot of them.
- What? - Oh, yes.
One day you'll see someone you love, and that's really wonderful, but the next day, just know that they'll be drinking and smoking and eating taffy at the gates of hell.
Drinking and smoking and eating taffy at the gates of hell? God works in mysterious ways, but the devil works in plain sight.
Well, what about Lillian? - She's not going to hell, right? - Tell me about this Lillian.
Well, she sins all the time and she doesn't believe in anything, but deep down, she's really pretty.
She's gonna go to hell.
- Oh, no.
- Oh, yes.
Maybe I should flagellate on her behalf.
- No.
- [yells.]
Yeah, no, I don't think that'll help.
You cannot save another person.
If that were the case, then the Lord would save all of mankind and no one would go to hell.
Why doesn't he? Well, because.
Oh, yeah.
The best thing you can do for those you love is forcefully push your beliefs upon them.
Thank you.
Oh.
[yells.]
[hip-hop music.]
[static crackling.]
[light piano music.]
Sweet Dodo, may I have this one last dance? Oh.
[clears throat.]
- [yells.]
- [laughs.]
Tits on a frog! Oh, we've done it! It's official-- the Bellacourt fortune has been saved.
Yes, and now it's time to make us official.
Oh, you're right.
[classical music.]
To love.
To money.
[laughter.]
I'm a simple girl.
All I want is a little RBP-- rubies, beluga, and property.
And here we go, you retched, horrible creature.
Soup for you, you hideous old child.
[choral music.]
Eat up, old hobo.
Gee, thanks, missus.
'Tis the best bowl of soup I ever did eat, I did.
Oh, I almost forgot.
You've been served.
[stammering.]
They're divorce papers.
You are not an easy woman to track down.
Shit on my tits! all hands on the limousine, bitch [light piano music.]
Brunch, did you recently catch obesity? Oh! [laughs.]
You're fat.
Well, sir, it's Blanche, and no, I am with child.
- Oh.
- [laughs.]
Well, that would be adorable if not for your chilling lack of a partner and basement-level social standing.
It's sad.
My husband and I are going to raise this child together.
Victor, would you ever want to have a child? Sometimes I hunger for a womb of my own.
Yes.
Yes, I think with my thin, aristocratic blood and my familial propensity towards large-scale violence, this child would have sure footing in this life.
I'd be willing to rear my own spawn if it had almond-shaped eyes and dressed primarily in sailor suits.
Mm.
Forgive me, but don't you both have multiple children already? - [scoffs.]
- Oh, my God.
Are you brain damaged or just organically stupid? Not from our wives.
Love child.
Yeah.
A child who would have mud-brown hair, very straight spine.
His name would be Tiberius and he would only communicate through dance.
Tiberius, handsome name.
Like the proud Roman emperor who oversaw the administrative apparatus that killed Christ.
Oh! I have a wonderful idea.
We will take her child and raise it as our own.
Mm.
Well, what if it's a girl? Well, we do live next to the Atlantic Ocean.
We can teach her to sail with the old heave-ho.
[both laugh.]
[laughing.]
We would drown her.
swear I'm always on grinding 24 and all - Hi, Mother.
- Oh! - [exclaims.]
- It's me.
I stowed away like a piece of luggage.
What are you doing here? - I'm on a very special mission.
- So am I.
I'm going to get Lillian to repent for all her sins so I don't have to go to the heaven party alone.
Please let me come.
I hate going to parties by myself.
Aren't you worried about Frederick finding out? He and his henchmen seem quite intent on keeping you in the abbey.
Mother, I can't be in danger with God protecting me.
It's not always as black and white as that.
Yes, it is.
Look at my outfit.
That is not actually a refutation of the argument.
Well, I'm not worried about my reputation.
Now that I'm saved, God will give me anything I want and nothing bad can ever happen.
That's how it works.
[mellow pop music.]
- in my dream - in my dream you're there in a warm embrace a warm embrace Welcome home, Lady Dodo.
And me, Beatrice.
I'm here too as well.
Yes, and Lady Beatrice.
Peepers, do you have your horsehair brush? Of course, madam.
Shall I brush your hair? No, the carriage rolled through a pile of cow shit.
Scrub the wheels.
Yes, madam.
And in that moment, I've never been more proud to be head butler.
[hip-hop music.]
It's been a long while since I've been home.
Well, it's not really your home anymore, is it? Welcome to my home, Dodo.
I have nothing to say to you.
I need audience with the Commodore.
[groans.]
His schedule has been so busy, what with making love to me and buying me everything I want, but I'll check and see if he has an opening other than my vagina.
[retching.]
Beautiful morning for a garbage dump, isn't it? Yes, the breeze really brings out the trash notes in the garbage.
[garbage clattering.]
Yes.
There's something almost romantic about it.
[garbage clattering.]
Cliffside garbage dump, huh? [chuckles.]
Oh, just the thought of it makes me horny.
Hamish we were having a private conversation.
Garfield, you know when you're taking a piss, you're like, "Wait a second, when's the last time I drank a bottle of hot sand and broken glass?" Ho! 'Cause that's what's coming out of it.
I don't-- I don't know that.
[sighs.]
Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on there.
Don't throw that away, huh? Cheese never goes bad, but I bet you do, right? [grunting.]
Please.
That really hurts.
Makes me feel very unsafe.
[stammers.]
I'm sorry.
I-- you don't know this-- why would you? But that-- that actually was a major setback for me, saying that.
It's a thing I do.
Sexualizing women, it's-- it's really just insecurity, or rather self-hatred masking as aggression.
I-- I read that in a book.
I just learned to read, by the way.
[whimpering.]
Sorry.
I'll go.
[sighs.]
Oh, Laverne, I wish I knew you longer.
Maybe you had more worldly possessions than this lap blanket.
I guess I'll never know.
[exclaims.]
[ethereal music.]
What else can I burn? [yells.]
[sobbing.]
Oh, Lillian, there you are.
[dramatic music.]
Beatrice, would you like some [in distorted voice.]
taffy? That's the devil's chew! [yells.]
Don't take this the wrong way, but you're going to hell.
Because of taffy? No, but the good news is I'm here to save you.
Laverne is dead.
Hortense is married.
[hiccups.]
I'm drunk.
No, Lillian, listen to me.
All you have to do is say you're sorry for everything you've ever done and you can attend the heaven party with me.
The only thing I'm sorry about is that this cocaine wine bottle's empty.
[sobs.]
[exclaims.]
Now I'm gonna go do some drugs and drink all the liquor in the house.
And then you'll say you're sorry? Uh no.
[laughs.]
But I'm trying to stop you from going to hell! This is really bad.
[hip-hop music.]
Dodo! I know what you're going to say.
Oh, that I find divorce embarrassing? A social failure befitting the likes of a Scottish viscount? No.
That I would be the first woman in my family's 3,000-year lineage to end a marriage for a reason other than a bear attack? No, that you want me back.
Oh, I assure you, I do not.
This charade has gone on long enough.
I'm prepared to sign the papers.
Like a fingerless man attempting to operate a doorknob, I know when I've been defeated, but I'm going to want a few things-- the October home in Prague, the eldest emu, the little man that we bring out every Christmas to scare the carolers.
- Terence.
- No! No Terence! No homes, no large flightless birds.
You get nothing! Commie, you're not really going to let her to do this? You gave all my money away to charity.
Dodo, this seems like justice.
Well [sighs.]
I suppose I'll just take the abbey then.
Wait.
We own an abbey? Yes, the Newport Abbey and Balsamic Vinegar Sanctuary.
You see, I-- I need a place to go to live out my life in my solitary humiliation.
Well, that shouldn't be a problem, Dorothea.
No.
When I say I want it all, I want it all [dramatic piano music.]
From bean to bar, nook to nunnery.
[whispering.]
You get nothing.
Darling, who gives a crap? We've the Fussleforth fortune.
I give a crap! I want your money, your man, and your dignity.
Oh, my dignity? Suck a plum, that's good.
I'm giving you almost everything, and you know deep inside you're worth nothing.
You'll never be better than that Montreal brothel in which you were spawned, you miscreant floozy.
I'd be careful.
She won't have sex with you if you talk like that.
I might be a miscreant floozy, but I'm the miscreant floozy who's gonna own that abbey.
Well, I suppose there's only one respectable way to settle this-- with a duel.
I will gladly duel you, old hag.
A duel! [groans.]
What the hell is going on here? Um, Lady Beatrice locked up the liquor.
Oh, that little bitch is gonna find God sooner than she thinks.
Oh, Garfield, I need alcohol! Where can I find alcohol? Where? Where? Where? Where? Where? Well, at the-- there's always a bar.
A bar? A bar of what? A bar is a place where people go to drink alcohol.
Oh.
Take me to this bar you speak of.
I want to go where nobody knows my name.
[claps.]
Madam, Mademoiselle.
[dramatic music.]
Your dueling swords.
Whoever draws blood first wins.
In the event of a tie, we will do a sudden death round wherein whoever suffers a sudden death loses.
Mademoiselle.
En guard! Aging madame.
And one, two, buckle my shoe.
Let us go and have a duel! Lillian? Mary, have you seen Lillian? [eerie music.]
Oh.
Mary, don't be afraid.
I'm a child of God now.
You can tell me.
You can tell me anything.
As long as it's not a den of sin or a place where alcohol is served, no harm will come to you or your family.
Where is she, Mary? Where is she? Ah, yes.
Classic Double Conundrum.
Pig in a Poke, Reverse Foghat, Schoolmarm's Got a Secret, and Hooray for the Circus Boy.
[laughs.]
[exclaiming.]
Where's my Caustic?, Backwards Bishop, A Rose for a Mute, and a Portuguese Goodbye! [upbeat music.]
Paling into a Gypsy's Rendezvous.
It's time for you to fold, Chair.
Never, you bitch! My glasses! [yells.]
Oh, A Poke For Polly.
[giggles.]
[yelling.]
[yells.]
[yells.]
[laughs.]
Well, there was a great bit of swashing and buckling from both sides, but I think it's very clear that Celine "Chair" Bouffant is the victor.
[laughs.]
Look at you.
I have your family, you fortune, your manor.
[dramatic music.]
Everything.
[laughs.]
You're right.
You've won.
Just kill me.
You're pathetic.
Keep your little abbey.