All language subtitles for Sister.Boniface.Mysteries.S04E02.A.Murder.of.Crows.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-RAWR

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 fund raise.

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 arm our

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 arm our?

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!