All language subtitles for Sister Boniface Mysteries S04E02 A murder of Crows

Ah, good man.
We need an extra hand.

Actually, no,
I'm here to see CC Lowsley.

But, erm, what is going on?

The most important two days
in Great Slaughter's calendar,

that's what.

No, no, no. Not yellow.

I need red, white, and blue
for the Queen.

Yeah, okay.

The Queen is coming?

She's over there.

Her throne's not ready yet.

Your majesty.

You're right on time.

Preparations are almost
complete,

but we could still
use some help.

For-- For what exactly?

Well, the Great Slaughter
Scarecrow Festival, of course.

Right. It makes sense
why my hay fever is acting up.

Good of you to step in
as official police liaison.

No, actually, no, sir.
I was--

Wonderful.
Great to have you on board.

Erm, sir, if I may have a moment
of your time.

Yes, yes.

It's a nightmare, isn't it?

Hm.

I hate how the scarecrows
just stare at you.

Gives me the heebie jeebies.

Yeah.

Just like that one.

What is that one even
meant to be?

Aah!

Morning Sarge.
Good of you to volunteer.

It didn't exactly happen
like that.

Yeah, well, I'm just here
to watch this year.

Wouldn't miss it for the world.

Me neither.

I thought you said that--

It's all so fun really,
isn't it?

Course it could be
the last year it's on,

depending how the vote goes.

Vote?

To see if it's
gonna come back or not.

After what happened last year,
half the village want it banned.

That was all blown
out of proportion, Norm.

Tell that to Mr. Carter.
He's still got the scar.

Yeah, but it's all
for a good cause.

What about the Farmers'
Youth Charity?

After tomorrow, they might need

to find another way
to fundraise.

Sergeant Livingstone?
We're starting.

Might need you on crowd control.

Don't tell me you support
this nonsense?

It turns the whole village
into a public house.

I'm not complaining.

Sisters, please tell me
we can count on your vote

to free us from this
straw-filled stranglehold.

Well, erm, well, no, actually.

I think it's rather wonderful
what people can create

with straw
and a bit of imagination.

And I can't say no
to a cash prize.

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,
to this,

the annual Great Slaughter
Scarecrow Festival,

all in support
of the Farmers' Youth Charity.

Now, we have
a wonderful weekend ahead of us,

helping this great cause,

and I'm sure you'll all agree,

bringing much joy
to the whole village.

Tomfoolery, more like.

Now,
you will find scarecrows

scattered all around
the village,

each themed
for different categories.

Now, the individual winners
will then go on to compete

for the grand prize at
the closing ceremony tomorrow,

and then the overall winner
will go home

with a cash prize of...

...£7.

£7.

It was £10 last year.

Yes, now,
after last year's events,

I think it prudent that
I should remind you all that,

well, any instances
of scarecrow sabotage

will result
in instant disqualification.

We will also not tolerate any
fighting, kicking, punching...

or biting.

With all that said,
it gives me great pleasure

to announce this festival
well and truly...

♪ Underway! ♪

Ha ha!
Moses parting the Red Sea!

Oh!
A strong start, Sisters.

I think we've cracked
it this time.

Doesn't Moses bear
a striking resemblance

to Joseph from last year,

just without the coat
of many colours?

Alright.
Keep your voice down.

Everything alright?

Yeah, my, er, scarecrow's head
won't stay on straight.

Needs more straw.

Why don't you take some
of our leftovers?

Oh, sorry, hay fever.

Thanks for this.

Very generous of you,
helping out the competition.

Charlie Sanderson?
Competition?

Ha! Ha ha!

Sergeant Livingstone,
you're a man of good sense.

Surely you can help us
put an end to all this.

There's no need to swear, Tom.

They steal his straw, you know.

Well, can we count on your vote?

Well, I wouldn't think
it would be quite appropriate

for me to say, while I'm
working in an official capacity.

Of course.

Mm-hmm.

Ahh!
Another fine effort, Martin.

Get back.

Took me hours to get his cigar
at the right jaunty angle.

Martin's won the last six years
in a row.

I heard your head's fallen
off... again.

I'm fixing it.

And who's running the shop,
while you're faffing about here?

Are you all right?

Oh, I slipped off a ladder
doing inventory at the shop.

You work at Sanderson's,
don't you?

Oh, you came in
the other weekend.

Yeah, you remembered.

Not too many customers
these days.

I'm his Godfather. I help him
run the shop, for my sins.

Oh, thanks for your help.

Excuse me.

Oh, gosh, not now.

Oh, here, let me.

Oh, Sandra, you're an angel.

It won't take a moment.

That's my Auntie Sandra.

That?

Yeah, well,
not my auntie-auntie,

but my Mum's best friend.

Do you know she was the one
who convinced me

to become a WPC
in the first place?

Everyone else
said it was a silly idea,

but she always told me
never to give up.

Well, we owe her many thanks.

Sarge!

What are you doing?

Just lending a hand.

That is an egregious breaking
of the rules.

No outside help.
It's collusion.

Oh, have a heart.

He hasn't got one.

Sour grapes, Clementine?

I must insist.

I think we'll allow it
this time, huh?

So, what have we here?

Ah, yes!

For our fairy-tale category,
Rapunzel in her tower,

waiting for her knight
in shining armour

to whisk her away from her life
of drudgery, I presume?

Oh, come here.

I'm sorry.
I'm just having a bad day.

Moving swiftly on.

Oh, wait!

You haven't seen
my scarecrow.

You've entered?

You finally convinced me.

How could you?

My own sister?

I've been telling her
to enter for years.

She's so talented.

It's "Breakfast at Tiffany's."

You know, I love that scene

where they're looking
for the cat at the end.

Oh, Sarge, you big softie.

Does she do any other poses?

What are you doing?

Please, it's just
the prize money.

Ah, Martin, time to settle up.
I'm just collecting entry fees.

I've already paid.

There's no record
of any payment.

Check again.

Ah, here we are.
Ha!

My mistake.

I'll deal with you later.

We'll kick things off with the
award for Best Bible Story.

This was a really tough
decision,

but the winner is...

the Sisters of St. Vincent's.

Huzzah.

Five times in a row.

Weren't the Sisters
the only one in this category?

No one goes up against the nuns.

Good morning.

You do know they're full
of straw, right?

Hello.

I've got to see this Churchill
everyone's banging on about.

Martin is
our main competition now.

I wouldn't worry.
That's a terrible Churchill.

Aaaaaaah!

I heard there was an incident.

A murder,
I think we can safely say,

from the obvious cause of death.

Petechiae to the eyes and face,
bruising around the neck--

all hallmark signs.

Strangulation.

But we're shouting distance
from half the village.

Surely someone heard
a cry for help?

Well, note the straw stuffed
in his mouth.

Taking care of that problem.

Ooh, there's something sticky.

And no one in the other displays
reported

seeing or hearing anything
out of the ordinary.

I'm afraid this rather dashes
our hopes

of potential fingerprints.

But I can check
for incriminating fibres.

Not much to go on
in the meantime.

Well, leaving us rather
clutching at straws.

Come on now.
Don't be corny.

Oh. Very good.

Now, what do we have here?

That's Winston Churchill,
Martin's scarecrow.

Why is it all scrunched up?

Maybe he weren't happy with it.

Unlikely, given he was
the bookie's favourite.

Mrs. Clam did report seeing
him doing finishing touches

to his scarecrow at around...

10:00am.

When everyone else was
at the first judging ceremony.

Let's find out who else
wasn't at that ceremony.

If I might have
your attention, please.

I am afraid that Martin Hubbard
has been found dead,

and tragically,
it would appear to be murder.

I'm sorry to be the bearer
of bad news.

We'll cancel the Morris Dancers,
of course.

Sister Boniface:
Yes, of course.

Sir, do you-- do you think
it's appropriate

if we continue with this at all?

No. No, no, no, no.

I'm sure Martin would
have wanted us to go ahead.

I think he'd prefer
to still be breathing.

Besides, his death blows this
whole competition wide open.

Oh, Sandra,
I'm so sorry about your brother.

I can't believe he's gone.

And the last time we spoke,

we argued
about this stupid competition.

I'll have to drop out now.

Are you sure?

It just wouldn't be right.

I saw the killer.

What?

After Sister Reginald
went to fetch help,

I heard footsteps behind me,

and when I turned around,
there was a scarecrow.

So who did you see?

A scarecrow.

A scarecrow?

It must have come alive
and killed Martin.

It's ali-i-i-i-i-ve!

That's what I saw.

Wait, did you see anything else?

Now then, who ordered
the carrot cake?

Perhaps Martin's house
will have something

more substantial to go on.

That sends quite the message.

Hm. It was the last straw
for someone.

Ha!

Oh, very good.

Hmm, looks like a sharp blade's
been used on his shirts.

Hm.

Kitchen scissors, perhaps.

And in quite a frenzy,
judging by the jagged cuts.

But they failed to consider
our old friend, Locard.

There's traces
of something there.

Looks like... metal filings.

Hm.

I need to take
a closer look back at the lab.

Sister?

Look at that.

Oh, yes. Well spotted.

We've narrowed our list
of suspects

to those who weren't
at the first prize ceremony.

They all claim that they were

keeping an eye
on their displays.

This is the last thing the
festival needs after last year.

What exactly happened last year?

Someone accused
the Great Slaughter WI

of sabotage,
and then everything kicked off.

Before you knew it, there
were limbs flying everywhere.

Scarecrow limbs,
we should clarify.

Do you think Martin's death
could have something

to do with the festival?

He was the frontrunner.

Well, we certainly
can't rule anything out.

Well, here's one thing
we do know.

This mystery substance we found
on the straw in Martin's mouth

is insoluble in water.

gas chromatography confirms
it's petroleum jelly.

Though I haven't the foggiest
idea why that would be there.

Lubrication isn't
exactly efficacious

when it comes to strangulation.

And here's another enigma.

I've checked the handwriting
against other samples

in Martin's house,

and they aren't a match.

Meaning?

Well, meaning,
someone else drew them.

Could someone have helped him
with his scarecrow?

But that's against the rules.

I'll need handwriting samples
from our suspects

to see if one of them
drew them instead.

Oh, and, er, one more thing.

Note the contusions
on his knuckles.

Martin was in a fight recently.

Martin and Charlie
weren't getting on this morning,

and Charlie had
some kind of injury.

But Martin's
Charlie's godfather.

They're-- They're like family.

Well, they didn't seem
too friendly earlier.

The judges and I will now
confer, and in a few moments,

we will announce the prize
for our next category,

Best Celebrity.

Can we have a word?

Martin loved this category.

Can't believe he's not here.

We'd like to talk
about your injury.

You said it was an accident
at work?

Martin had bruising
on his knuckles.

Want to tell us
what really happened?

Erm...

Look, it was nothing really.

It was just an argument.

Bad enough to come to blows?

I had a few ideas about
how to expand the business,

But Martin wouldn't listen.

Why not?

He said we weren't
in any place to be taking risks.

He called me a... halfwit.

And that caused a fight?

My mum never went to school.

People called her stupid
all her life,

even though she opened the shop.

So how did Martin end up

getting involved
in the business?

My mum died,
and I was all on my own.

I was only 10.

And Martin stepped up to help?

He's my legal guardian,
and the shop was in a bad way.

He saved me, really.

But he wouldn't let
you make any decisions

about your own family business?

No, but I'm only 18.

I can't inherit until I'm 21.

That must be frustrating.

I wouldn't even have a shop
to worry about

if it wasn't for him.

I owe him everything.

And the prize for Best Celebrity
goes to...

Alan Yarrow for the Queen.

Oh! What utter nonsense.

Her Majesty the Queen
is not a celebrity.

Now, where is the man
of the hour?

Oh, here he is.
Photo for "The Bugle," Alan?

Not now.

The Queen!
It's sabotage!

Look, she looks fine.

Her corgis are gone.
This is high treason.

I turn my back for a moment,
and this happens.

What if Dottie's
claims were right?

What claims?

She saw a scarecrow fleeing
the scene of the murder.

- What?
- Norman, if you could just

clear the scene for me... now.

Right. Look, I'll ask around,
and see what I can find out.

I found a handwriting match
among our suspects.

I know who drew
Martin's designs.

I'm afraid it was Sandra.

There has to be an explanation.

Well there's only one way
to find out.

What's this
about a killer scarecrow?

Don't believe any of that, Norm.

So there have been sightings?

It's just nonsense.

Were you and Martin working
together to win the competition?

Of course not.
I-I didn't need his help.

But he needed yours?

I was the one behind
Martin's displays.

I designed them,
and I made them.

So why did you decide to enter
the competition this year?

Well, did you know I was once
offered an apprenticeship

in London, Saville Row?

Oh, I was all set to move away,

until Martin convinced me
that I-I wouldn't cut it.

But you're so talented.

Oh.

Well, I couldn't give up
on my dream, you see,

of owning my
own dressmaking shop.

It might not be Saville Row,
but it was something of my own.

And watching Martin win
every year with my designs,

I just wondered
if I could do it.

And Martin didn't like that?

He liked the idea
of winning too much.

Could we could both enter?

No.

This is the one thing I love.

And you're ruining it.

Oh, please, don't be like that.

It's just the prize money.

Oh, yes, for this ridiculous
shop of yours.

But what do you know
about running a business?

And who are you going to turn to
when it all fails, eh?

I always say,
stick to what you know.

I just wanted to try.

And you didn't care about
betraying me in the process.

- Please!
- Well, I've got
friends at the council,

people who owe me a favour.

I'll make sure they reject
any application you submit.

Even if you win,
you won't get your shop.

And that was
the last time we spoke.

And now he's gone.

How could I possibly stay
in the competition?

Don't you owe it to yourself
to try?

Never give up on your dreams.
That's what you always told me.

Ohh.

I'm not young and brave
like you, Peggy.

Oh!

Oh, be careful.

Oh, don't mind me.

They're about to announce
Best Sporting Legend.

I think I have a good chance
against Muhammad Ali.

Not something
you can say everyday.

What are you up to?

Those shiny particles
on Martin's shirt

were traces of gold paint,
so I'm taking samples.

We've already done
the Queen's crown,

Rapunzel's hair, and
Audrey Hepburn's earrings.

I know his head's a bit wobbly,
but everyone loves Bobby.

All finished.

Ah, just in time.

Ah-ha, now you are talking!

Well, congratulations to you.

Best Sporting Legend.

I can't believe it.

Oh, your mum would be so proud.

Martin said I didn't stand
a chance.

Well, Martin wasn't
always right.

Cheers.

Mm.

I'm sorry about your brother.

Thank you.

I know what he meant to you,
as well.

I don't know how I'll manage
the shop without him.

He was telling me
about some of your ideas--

a home-delivery service
and a-a loyalty scheme.

I thought they were very clever.

Nah. I should just stick
to what I know.

Well, that's what Martin
always said.

Do you know, your mum didn't
let anything hold her back.

No?

If you don't try...

Speaking of which...

there's something I need to do.

Would you excuse me please,
Charlie?

Excuse me, Hector?

I'd, er...

I'd like to re-enter
the competition.

You can't do that.

I will have to confer
with the other judges.

Sandra, what category
were you in?

Er, I was Audrey Hepburn
for Best Celebrity.

Ah, that's already been judged.

Well, alright then,
I'll make a new scarecrow.

Which categories are still open?

Er, well, just, erm,
Local Heroes tomorrow.

Local Heroes it is.

This is an outrage.

Now, now, Alan.

Your help organising
this festival is invaluable,

but please remember you are
a competitor, not a judge.

What's going on?

Oh, nothing to worry about.

He's letting Sandra re-enter,
after she voluntarily withdrew.

How gallant.

And now you're fiddling
about with the rules, are you,

as if the festival itself
isn't bad enough?

What do you mean "bad enough"?

Why does everyone have to fight?

Somebody help me!

What on earth's the matter?

The killer scarecrow!

- What?
- It was alive!

- It shushed me.
- Here we go.

They're everywhere!

See what this festival's
reduced us to?

People keep telling me
this festival's meant

to be bringing you all together,

but it seems
to be doing the opposite.

I'll admit, you're
not seeing it at its best.

- Can we have a little decorum?
- We need to unmask them!

- Come on!
-Where's she going?

- Oh!
-What are you doing?

What's she doing now?

- This is all your fault.
- No!

- Every year, something
dreadful happens.
-Wait!

Stop that!

Stop!

Oi!

Everyone, calm down!

Thank you, Sister Reginald.

Never seen anything like it.

Sarge had to threaten half
of them with disqualification.

That would rather put
the damper on festivities.

Oh, did you hear?

My Auntie Sandra's
only gone and re-entered.

Oh, bravo.

Though I've no idea who
she'll choose for Local Hero.

It's not like anything goes
on round here.

Well, in 1947, Sister Helena,
previously of Saint Vincent's,

single-handedly defended
a mission

against Venezuelan
revolutionaries.

Though she is quite
a niche prospect.

Aha!

Oh, you found a match?

Note the thickness
of the undercoat

and the topcoat of glitter.

We've struck gold.

So, whose scarecrow is it?

So why did you cut up
Martin's shirts?

That's quite the act of passion.

I loved him.

You were Rapunzel, and he was
your knight in shining armour?

I thought he was.

He ended it, just like that.

I were ready to start a new life
with him, but...

he didn't care.

So you wanted to hurt him back.

I didn't kill him.

I-I just wanted
to send a message.

I snuck into his house last
night, and I saw his shirts.

But then I heard him
arguing with someone.

Did you see who it was?

I daren't look.

I could only really hear Martin
saying something about cheques.

"You can't back out now
you've cashed them."

Did you hear anything else?

I snuck out the back door,
quick as I could.

I know how guilty I must look,
but I swear that's the truth.

Good morning.

Oh, no, erm, what's happened?

What does it look like?

Sorry, I'm just-- Sorry.

A most savage attack.

Must've been
sometime last night.

First Alan, now Charlie.

Any one of us could be next.

Maybe we should pull out
of the competition?

Might as well,

now that my chance
at the prize money's gone.

Surely you can fix it
before the grand prize ceremony?

Maybe.

Have you seen this?

"Killer Scarecrow Stalking
The Streets."

Norman. Whalley by name,
Whalley by--

This'll cause a panic.

The festival won't stand
a chance at the vote later.

Surely people will know
that this is all nonsense?

Ah, this looks familiar.

From the local bank?

Sister Boniface:
Yes, from Martin's fireplace.

Must have been
a financial document--

a statement, perhaps?

I'm afraid the rest
is too burnt to salvage.

Martin's accounts
could shed some light on this.

Allow me. I've been
looking for an excuse to
see the desk clerk again.

It's a Sunday.
The banks are closed.

Not a problem.
I've got her number.

I know what I saw.
And I'm not the only one.

They walk among us.

This festival has turned
the village into a madhouse.

We didn't need much help there.

Well, if you'll excuse me,

I need to make my way
to the station.

He's over there!
Over there!

-Huh?
-Over there!

Over there! Look!

- What's over there?
- The scarecrow!

So I see.

Well, we'll make sure
we keep an eye out.

Oh.

I don't want to know, do I?

I'd thought you'd be happy to
finally get a break in the case.

Okay, so what did Martin's
statements say?

Several large outgoing payments
to Alan Yarrow.

What exactly
are these payments for?

Y-You didn't tell anyone,
did you?

Stop worrying
about your reputation

and answer the question.

To buy my silence.

Go on.

Martin was embezzling
from the Farmers' Youth Charity.

No wonder he was such a fan
of the festival.

I confronted him, but he--
he offered me money instead.

Why didn't you come to us?

I've got debts.

I couldn't say no
to that kind of money.

I-I knew it was wrong,
but by then it was too late.

He had quite a hold over you.

Perhaps one
you wanted to be free of.

You-- Wh--
You think I killed him?

Why would I kill Martin
when he was paying me?

You're not gonna tell
the judges are you?

No, but we will need
to investigate you

for possible corruption.

But-- But-- But I'm a pillar
of the community.

Really?
Then start acting like one.

Wait.

Oi, what are you doing?

Stop!

It's alive.

Stop! Stop!

Oh!

I told you!

Don't you dare!

Be careful.
It could be any one.

I can't believe this.

I know.
Miss Thimble was right.

Ah, the fibres match those
found on Martin's neckerchief.

This glove belongs
to our killer.

But why is our killer
attacking scarecrows?

A vendetta against the festival?

Speaking of which,
we'd better fill the Chief in.

Oh, while you're there, erm,
could you fetch me something?

Er, well, someone.

Impressive work to get
a scarecrow made so quickly.

Has she made a new one?

Sorry.
Who did she pick?

Well...

why don't you
have a look yourself?

Me?

I think she's got
your smile quite perfectly.

I can't believe you chose me.

First WPC in the county?

I mean, how could
I have chosen anyone else?

Is that a smile I see, Vera?

Don't be ridiculous.

More petroleum jelly.

But why?

Sister, erm, sorry,
but why do you need this?

Well, her majesty is here
for her own protection.

And she's evidence.

Well, she's evidence
that makes me want to...

Oh...

Bless you, Felix.

And thank you.

Get Sam.

-Huh?
- Sister Boniface: Get Sam!

Sorry.

I now announce the final
category of the festival,

Local Heroes.

Now, this was
a unanimous decision

by myself, erm,
and the, er, other judges,

so please, the winner is...

Sandra Hubbard.

Oh, well done, Sandra.

Lovely scarecrow,
beautifully stuffed.

Now Sandra will now join
the other finalists

for the grand prize ceremony,
which I will be judging shortly.

But in the meantime,
please remember

that the ballot boxes are
now open for your votes.

So please...

♪ Vote wisely ♪

Charlie, stop!

Well done, Auntie Sandra.

- Oh!
- Stay back.

Put the lighter down, Charlie.

- Look, we know you
killed Martin.
- No.

Disguising yourself as a
scarecrow was an ingenious idea,

but it must have been
torture on your sinuses.

You can't prove that was me.

You used the age-old trick
of smearing petroleum jelly

under your nose to catch pollen.

And I'm quite sure that
we'd find traces on you now.

Martin was stealing
from the festival,

and business wasn't good
at the shop either, was it?

Was he stealing from you, too?

We found bank documents in his
house that he tried to destroy.

Martin never let me
look at any of those.

He said I wouldn't understand
what it all meant.

But when we received
a final notice on the rent,

I had to see what was wrong.

Instead, I realised the truth.

What do you think you're doing?

You've been stealing...

from the festival, from
the shop, all this time.

Don't be stupid.

You let me believe
it was my fault.

But it was you.

You ungrateful brat.

How long
have I looked after you?

Wait.

Did you do this to Mum, too?

That's why
she was almost bankrupt.

She blamed herself,
and then she...

When everyone finds out...

And who would believe you?

Come here, you...

He made her think
it was all her fault,

and she killed herself
out of the shame.

I don't have a mum
because of him.

So it was revenge.

I wanted justice...

for Mum.

But it wasn't enough.

You wanted to bring
the festival down with you.

The whole thing's a sham.

Oh, Martin said it was
for such a good cause,

but the only person
he was helping was himself.

But you're not like that,
Charlie.

You care about what's right
and wrong.

Don't you come any closer!

Look, you said
that you wanted justice,

but this is not the way.

Please, put the lighter down.

what would your mum think?

She's gone because of Martin.

Don't you think Martin's caused
enough pain and destruction?

Don't be like him.

You care about the people
around you.

And they care about you.

No, it doesn't matter.

Of course it does.

Think about what this would do
to Sandra

and this whole community.

Don't do it.

It's too late.

It's never too late to try.

You can make things better.

I just...

just wanted
to make things right.

We know.

Thank you.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen,
for your patience

whilst we resolved
an urgent police matter.

You'll have heard
that Charlie Sanderson

has been arrested for reasons
that put our festival to shame.

Oh, that's putting it lightly.

Thank you, Vera.

Please do cast your vote
for the future of our festival,

because I believe-- I believe
that we can turn this around.

Should you not hang up
your scarecrows for good,

I promise to restore this
festival to its former glory.

Well, with all that said,

let's crack on
with the grand prize ceremony.

And how about a round
of applause

for our four wonderful
contestants and finalists?

we have Clementine Bell,
Sister Reginald,

Alan Yarrow, Sandra Hubbard.

And don't you go forgetting,
you chaps,

that only one of you gets
to take the grand prize home.

Anyway...

after much deliberation,

it gives me enormous pleasure

to present this grand prize
to...

Sandra Hubbard!

Thank you.

Well done.

Oh, thank you.

Yes, I thought
you'd have clinched it.

Oh, well, I only really entered
to impress Martin, so...

Well, you impressed me.
Your Rapunzel was magnificent.

Apart from the tatty sleeve.

Nonsense.

I'll need some help
in the dress shop

when I finally open.

You mean me?

No, but Margaret in the village

is really good
with a sewing needle.

Of course I mean you.

Oh! Thank you.

I really thought we had it
in the bag.

Well, there's--
there's always next year.

Mm.
Time to think big.

How about Last Supper,
all the disciples?

Yes, well, we'll have to start
stockpiling straw then, Sister.

Assuming that the festival
is happening next year.

Ah! You've got to be in it
to win it.

Yes.

Ahh!

It's gonna be close.

This beer tent has addled
their brains.

Well, we've counted the votes,
and it seems to be a tie.

Oh.

I don't know what
the protocol is.

Did you vote, Sarge?

No, erm, I was pre-occupied
with the killer scarecrow.

Sir, we've got another one here.

- Come on.
- You know what to do.

Just remember to do
what's best for the community.

We have a decision...

The Great Slaughter
Scarecrow Festival...

will continue!

- Hooray!
- Hooray!

And seeing
how you're such a fan,

you can be the official liaison
again next year.

Can you forgive me,
Mrs. Clam?

Well, of course, I blame you
for being a bad influence.

Man of the hour.

Right, this deserves
another round.

Oh, yes, make mine a shandy.

I'm in the mood to celebrate.

Oh, I'm so proud of you,
Auntie Sandra.

Ah, finally! I can get back
to some real journalism.

Enough with all
these silly scarecrows.

Not that I was scared.

- Aah!
- Aah!

Oh, get up.

Peggy!

Boo!

You stop! Stop!

You're a madwoman!

Get away from me!

Aah!