All language subtitles for Pushing.Daisies.S01E04.Pigeon.HDTV-Caph.eng

Previously on Pushing Daisies...

- You only got a minute.
- I know.

- 60 seconds.
- I know.

What if you didn't have to be dead?

You touch murder victims,
you ask who killed them.

You touch them again,
they go back to being dead,

- and you collect the reward?
- Nobody can know.

- I can't even hug you?
- You can't touch me.

So a kiss is out of the question?

- Who's the funny girl stuck to Ned?
- Childhood sweetheart.

He digs her in a way
he definitely doesn't dig you.

Thank you for bringing me back to life.

People aren't used to this sort
of thing. Issues of morality,

how come she's not dead anymore?
You can't see your aunts.

It'd be a disaster.

This pie smells delicious.
We recently lost our niece.

Your niece, Charlotte Charles, is dead?
Presently?

Season 1 Episode 4
"Pigeon"

www.All-about-Subs.fr

At this very moment,
in the town of North Thrush,

young Ned was...

Lonely.

Unable to make friends
at the Longburrow school for boys,

he often found himself playing alone,

with nothing but memories
of happier times to keep his company.

What young Ned did not realize was that,

beyond the meadow
and under the same orange sky,

someone he loved was remembering him.

His dog, Digby.

In fact, three days prior,
Digby had made a decision.

Wearied by his own loneliness
back in Couer d'Couers

�and sensing his master's sorrow,

Digby set out on a mission.

Uncertain as to his exact destination,

he ventured into the great unknown,

guided only by the compass of his heart.

Despite numerous distractions,
Digby was determined to find young Ned.

the boy who had given him
a second chance at life...

And who was his best friend.

Upon doing so, Digby proved
that love can overcome any obstacle.

The reunion was bittersweet, however,

as they instantly remembered
the restrictions of their friendship.

They could not touch,

or Digby would die.

Still, it was enough.

That day, Digby vowed

he would never again allow himself
to be separated from his master.

The pie maker did not wish
to be separated from Chuck, who,

in turn, did not wish to be separated
from her aunts, Lily and Vivian,

who continued to be challenged
by social phobias.

Unbeknownst to the pie maker,

Chuck secretly baked homeopathic

mood enhancers into pies for her aunts,

hoping that a slice a day

would herbally lift their spirits.

You're up early.

- I couldn't sleep.
- Lumpy mattress?

Lumpy dreams.

They are a lot more vivid now
than they were before I died.

Isn't that interesting?
Just one of those... Little things.

What are those?

I...

Got bit.

Those are beestings.

How'd you get stung by so many bees?

And what happened to the bees that
stung you? That's a suicide attack.

Not in this case.

They, sort of stung me, died,
then they flew away again,

and some other bees died.

Do you think their honey
tastes different, cause they died?

Wouldn't that be interesting?
Just

one of those little things.

I want to show you something.

Bees!

Your bees.

My bees? You mean...

No, not those bees...
New bees.

Technically, still your bees, just

not the bees that you knew.

But I'm sure they're equally nice.

You do realize that beekeeping

within city limits
is completely illegal.

Yes.

And I'm almost sure I don't care.

I can not care enough
for the both of us.

We can plant wild flowers
on rooftops and be

unorthodox urban honey pioneers.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

If I could hug you right now,
I know that I can't, but

just know that I want to.

I do.

As Chuck considered her future

as an unorthodox urban honey pioneer...

Olive snook considered
how the man she loved

seemed to be in love with someone else.

Her affection for
the pie maker had not wavered,

despite the romantic
threat of a dead girl,

who wasn't dead.

I didn't know you could do that.

On the contrary,

Olive's resolve had only increased

since the realization that Chuck,

indeed, was supposed to be dead.

Good morning!

Olive assumed Chuck
had faked her own death.

She would keep the secret for now,

as Chuck kept her secret
from the pie maker.

There's a pie in my oven.

That's mine.
I was practicing.

It smells like cheese.

Is that a quiche?

I baked monastery gouda into the crust.
Tart apple filling.

I thought I'd try it.

You know what would be delicious?
Pear with gruy�re crust.

Bet that'd be real good.

Yeah, it would.

Unbeknownst to Chuck,

Olive understood the deliciousness
of pear and gruy�re...

Thank you.

Because she secretly
delivered that first

mood-enhancing pie
to aunts Lily and Vivian,

as she would deliver this one...

But not before a collision occurred.

I think she's dead!

- Can you feel a heartbeat?
- I don't...

d... do heartbeats.

Well, they feel like this.

Come here.

Is that a dead bird?

Why are you touching a dead bird?
Throw that away.

It's swimming with disease,
and you serve food.

Don't be such a drama queen.

Besides, it doesn't look diseased.

It's dead, and it's a bird.

It's diseased.

It's a miracle bird!

It's swimming in miracles, not disease!

- Maybe I should hold it.
- No, really, do you have to?

She's obviously been through a lot,

She seems really happy to be here.

Having brought
a dead thing back to life,

the pie maker fretted over who,

or what, would pay for that life

with its own.

I wonder how she lost her wing.

She doesn't seem to be in any pain.

She's probably not in pain.
But what do I know? I'm not a bird.

- Pigeon.
- Pigeon

Pigeon toed as a child, but

orthopedic shoes solved that.

What is the rate of exchange
on the life of a bird?

'Cause if it's equal to or greater than
mine, I need to get back to my car.

I'm more concerned for that squirrel.

Don't you worry.
I know just what to do with you.

I recently made the acquaintance
of a pair of bird lovers.

I'll consult them.

Olive was refering
to aunts Lily and Vivian.

Really?
Iused to know a pair of bird lovers.

Chuck also refered to aunts
Lily and Vivian.

Used to?

Did they die?

A death was involved.

How unfortunate.

They were both so busy
referring and inferring,

they failed to notice
that 60 seconds had passed.

The pie maker could
not afford such a luxury.

It's raining dead birds!

What's going on up there?

What was going on up there was this...

An out-of-control crop duster
crashed headfirst

into the broadview luxury
apartment complex,

killing the pilot instantly.

His body was catapulted
out of the cockpit

and into the living room
of one Conrad Fitch.

Does this...

Does this qualify as ambulance-chasing?

I'm asking without any judgment at all.

If you're asking without any judgment,
then, yes,

it does.
Look for body bags.

That's not our thing.

Your thing is waking up dead people.

My thing is finding dead
people for you to wake up.

Found one.

Why can't we just be here
as concerned citizens of the world?

Because big daddy needs some new yarn.

Just because there's a dead body
doesn't mean you're gonna get paid.

Just because there's vodka in my freezer
doesn't mean I have to drink it.

- Wait, yes, it does.
- He's not wrong.

Plane crashes into a building.
Could mean a civil suit,

criminal suit negligence, pain and
suffering, negligent pain and suffering.

Chuck faust her love of the law
by volunteering

as a stay-at-home juror
for a paraplegic judge.

We the jury find the defendant guilty.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Unable to catch Chuck when she fell,

the pie maker was forced to step aside,

allowing another man to catch her.

Thank you.

Forgive the mess.

The maid comes tomorrow.

Guess I should cancel that.

Do you live here?

- Until very recently.
- Can you put her down, please?

At least your collection
of nautical plates survived.

Those were Franklin Mint.

- I'm sorry.
- No, it's okay.

I'll be okay.

I was feeling like I needed
to simplify my life, anyway.

Chuck's heart went up

to the man with the plane
in his living room,

despite the pie maker wanting
her heart for himself.

Suddenly, ambulance-chasing
didn't seem like a bad idea.

The ambulance is leaving.

You go ahead. I'm gonna stay here,
see if there's anything I can do.

I'm sure he's fine. Statistically
speaking, his day can only improve.

dead pilot, on the other hand,
probably has lots of last wishes.

Yeah, like maybe he wished
he'd have turned left.

You don't need me for that.

- She's got a point.
- But...

Don't argue with the woman.

We got a dead guy to talk to.

The facts were these...

One Bradan Caden,
an agricultural aviator,

was 53 years, 21 weeks, 5 days,
6 hours, and 19 minutes old,

when his crop duster collided with
the broadview luxury apartment complex.

It was 17 minutes after the collision,

and Mr. Caden's insurance
agent had already rejected

the claim on his life policy

before the claim was even made.

Did you see the way
he just swept in there?

- Yeah, so?
- I don't sweep. I'm not a sweeper.

- Yeah, it's a little showy.
- It's a lot showy.

What's a rooftop full of bees
compared to someone

who can catch her when she falls?
I can't catch her, Emerson.

Can't suck on her toes, neither.

Some women like that.

Bradan Caden's wife, Becky,

believed her husband
was not suicidal and was,

in fact, a happy man.

He was a happy man.

These insurance people
making assumptions

about a person's disposition.

One should never assume.

An insurance agent can't speak
to the deceased's state of mind.

They didn't know the deceased.

You did.

Pardon me. I couldn't help but

overhear your conversation.
I believe I could be helpful.

May I have a word with you?

Why are you bothering this poor woman?

You and that white boy got some
kind of shifty going on?

I don't know what,
but you're shifty.

I'm here as a concerned
citizen of the world.

You making a dime, concerned citizen?

Maybe one or two to rub together.

Well,

then, flies land on me, they pay rent.

Excuse me. I'm j-just gonna...

Hello.

Are you the fellow that
jumped on my plane?

No. A fellow jumped on your plane?

I was hijacked.

Is that why your plane crashed?

Oh, yes, sirree.

Mr. Caden.

I was dusting soybeans,
or getting ready to,

and dippy in a prison-orange
jumpsuit climbed aboard.

Dippy was on board
when your plane crashed?

But you were the only dead dippy...
Body... They found.

Then dippy's not dead. Lucky him.

What in the hell?

The plane was hijacked.

How'd you come by that?

DNA... ish...

Olive Snook came to Couer d'Couers
on a wing and a prayer.

With a gilded cage
housing the monowinged bird

in one hand and a pie box in the other,

she set out to expose Charlotte Charles,
also known as "Chuck,"

as a faker of deaths.

It's a carrier pigeon.

Diseases or messages?

Both.

A bird with gossip.
How exciting.

Do you open other people's mail?

Well, who's the people
and how hard is it to open?

I don't know where that came from.

What's gotten into you?

What's gotten into you?

What had gotten into both of them
was their niece's homeopathic pie.

As with any mood stabilizer,

moods were
a bit inconsistent at the start.

Do you think you can fix her?

She'll only go out there
and get hurt again.

Coyotes will have their way with her.

She was meant to fly.

She needs to fulfill her destiny
and deliver that message.

A bird that stalks down his narrow cage

can seldom see through his bars of rage!

It wouldn't hurt to try.

That's the spirit.

And once we fix Pidge,
we can celebrate...

By taking a trip to the pie hole.

It's a nifty spot
with lots of interesting folks.

You never know who you might run into.

With that Olive Snook
set her plan in motion.

Why would we go out for pie
when you just brought us one?

I'll think of a reason.

While Olive Snook considered how to get
Lily and Vivian, out of their rut,

the pie maker was considering
worst-case scenarios,

not only for a rogue hijacker,

who he had been hired to find
by Becky Caden,

but for Chuck and the man who caught her
in a way the pie maker never could.

They're not here.
This is bad.

Well, maybe they went for a stroll.

- That would not make it better.
- Well, what's worse...

The two of them locked up
in the trunk of a hijacker's car

or sipping mimosas in a hotel room?

I'm not a fan of either scenario,
and what's that smell?

I thought it might be your cologne.

Who wears cologne?

I wear cologne!

Look.

They had coffee.

There's something bad in there.

Is that the hijacker?

What kind of fool hijacker hides
himself in a damn coffee table?

Damn gout.

I'm so cramped,
I feel like i'm stuffed in a trunk.

You are stuffed in a trunk.

Don't contradict an old man.
It's disrespectful.

Did you hijack that plane?

What plane?

Hell's fire.

That thing flew into my apartment!

This is your apartment?

What'd I just say?

There I was, enjoying my daily prunes

and the psyllium powder
and hoping for the best.

And suddenly,
I see that thing flying at me.

If this is your apartment,
then who is Conrad?

What is this...
The idiot brigade?

Hello.

Do you like pie?

It would be criminal not to like pie.

Everything I am,

everything I was,

everything that represented me
as a human being was in there.

I have to start over.

I lost everything once.

- And you know what?
- Did a plane fly your living room?

- No.
- Well, was it arson?

No, it was something else, but I felt
a queer thrill of opportunity.

To get new stuff?

To let go of everything about
me that I didn't like

and to hold onto
everything about me that I did.

I've just met you, but I

can't imagine anything about
you that isn't something to like.

Chuck's first thought
was to quickly pull her hand away.

Her second thought was how nice it felt

to have someone hold her hand.

Sorry.

Was that your boyfriend back there,

the one who
took a step back to let you fall?

He didn't let me fall. It was actually
a very affectionate gesture, in context.

If it only was the pie maker's hand.

Can I ask you a small favor?

Would you hold my hand
just for a moment,

but don't say anything?
And I'm gonna close my eyes.

All right.

In that moment, Chuck was holding
the pie maker's hand...

... if only by proxy.

It was the proxy,
that concerned the pie maker.

I got to pee.

- How did it go?
- Where did he go?

Conrad? He was going to the bathroom.

He's not Conrad.
He's the hijacker.

He's going to the bathroom
in my kitchen.

Boy, you miss one trip to the morgue...

Is this the hand you were holding?

Well, he's a great big fibber,
then, isn't he?

A great big fibber,
whose hand you were holding.

- What's that about?
- I was... I- if you must know...

I was pretending
I was holding your hand.

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

Well... Yeah.

On one hand it does make me feel better.

On the other hand
and you were holding. It doesn't.

Ned, he's an escaped convict.

You didn't know that
when you held his hand.

And p. s.,
only is he an escaped convict...

He's also a hijacker who's prevented

thousands of crops from
being aerially fertilized.

And he stuffed a surly old
dead guy in a trunk.

I'm not saying that he isn't guilty,
and I'm not saying that I am.

I'm just saying that it's not about him.

No, it's about our client, Becky Caden,
wife of Bradan Caden,

the woman your handyman
widowed when he decided

to crop-dust someone's living room.

Did you catch him?

That one-armed bitch was speedy.

But I checked in with
my people at the prison.

You got "people"?
That's so neat.

- Did you find out anything good?
- Yes.

And we're gonna need shovels.

Emerson Cod had learned three things...

First, the man
they knew as Conrad Fitch

was actually one Lemuel Winegard.

A low-level employee
of a company called Ornan Energy.

Second, Ornan was
an energy-based corporation

known for several types of trading...

Plastics, steel...

and insider.

The latter cost Lemuel his right hand.

It also cost him his freedom.

Third, during his incarceration,

Lemuel became known as "Lefty Lem,"

a name given to him
by his cellmate, Jackson Lucas,

an infamous diamond thief,

whose final escapade resulted

in a buried treasure
that was never recovered...

... even after he died.

He ended up in a prison
graveyard with his secret.

So Lefty Lem was
a white-collar criminal.

That makes much more sense.

Yeah, thank you.

Gonna get paid once
by the pilot's widow

when we prove
her husband's death wasn't a suicide...

Dead bodies always lead to paydays.

Yeah, yeah, "vodka in the freezer."

Gonna get paid twice by the feds

when they give us the reward
for kicking Lefty's ass

back to the clink, where he belongs.

Looking forward to that.

And gonna get paid thrice
by finding Jackson's buried booty.

Hey!

Hey.

Come to papa.

Wait, you might want to avert your eyes.

There's a good chance
he'll be on the dewy side.

Damn. I hate dewy.

Are you mad at me?

Why would I be mad?

For holding
someone's hand that wasn't yours.

Seriously...
in a prison graveyard...

That's where y'all are gonna
have this conversation?

You should...
breathe through your mouths.

I'd have preferred
a little more eyeball.

Just touch the damn thing.

No, wait.

For what?

A little dignity.

Thanks.

I can't see anything!

Am I blind?

The good news is, you're not blind.
Bad news is, you're dead.

Makes blind seem like
a walk in the park, doesn't it?

Where'd you bury your loot, Jack?

Why should I tell you?

Good karma.
It's like currency in the after-life.

In the old windmill on the Vonroenn
Farm, at the bottom of the stairs.

- How much that worth?
- Plenty. Ask him about Lefty.

Did you tell him where you buried it?

Of course I did.

I owed him that much.

What did you owe him for?

Keeping the fire alive.

All right, we got a windmill to find.

Chuck's fire may not
be alive, as far as

her aunts Lily and Vivian
were concerned,

but Olive was doing
her best to reidignite it.

Brackets.

Brackets.

Ribbon.

Ribbon.

Bejeweler.

Bejeweler.

Can I do one?

Maybe the last one.

If you like, we could bejewel
Pidge's birdhouse when we're done.

Pidge's house is only temporary.

No sense in bejeweling
an empty home, is there, Pidge?

There's something so sad
about an empty birdhouse.

When one of our birds dies,
we taxiderm it immediately...

Put it right back on its perch.

Vivian does wonders
with sand and thread.

And little marble eyes.

It's like our birds
never left us at all.

You can't put
everything back on its perch.

It must have been all kinds
of horrible for you when Charlotte left.

She didn't leave.

She died.

And no amount of sand or thread

or little marble eyes
will ever bring her back.

But Olive didn't need sand or thread

or little marble eyes
to bring Chuck back.

She need a confluence of events.

Wing.

And she was about to get one.

Wing.

Can I do the last bejewel?

I already did it.

What do you think, Pidge?

And while Olive, the aunts, and Pidge

looked forward
to the next step in their journey,

another journey had reached a dead end.

Is she dead?

Lefty lem has officially taken the lead.

Do you think fake Conrad killed her?

Ockham's razor...

All things being equal, the simplest
solution tends to be the best one.

I used to believe that until
you brought me back from the dead...

Kind of screws the theory.

Maybe your finger needs a new battery.

Here, let me try.

He did it.

Oh! I must have dozed off again.

Uh, can I help you?

We're looking for
a windmill, a Vonroenn variety windmill.

That's funny, a young man was just
in here, asking about the Vonroenn mill.

He didn't happen
to have one arm, did he?

As a matter of fact, he did.

Ockham's!

Bless you.

Thank you.

The windmill...

What happened to it?

Razed, wrecked, rebuilt, removed?

Retired.

No farm, no use.

Got shipped off to "Narm"
some 20 years ago.

Why did they send it to nam?
Did the vietnamese need windmills?

N.A.R.M.... National area retired mills.

Vonroenn mill has been
preserved for an historical landmark.

I have a map here.

Now, that's narcoleptic.

Necrophiliac's the other one.

Yeah.

Armed with a new plan,

the pie maker and associates left
the narcoleptic curator to her dreams.

Meanwhile, back in Couer d'Couers,

a tiny friend
was planning her own escape.

Olive's disdain
for Chuck was split in two...

One for stealing the pie maker's heart
and the other for breaking the aunts'.

You know you want
to read Pidge's message.

Lily would be so displeased.

There was an incident.

I read something that I shouldn't have,

and then life went
horribly awry.

Lily never forgave me.

She said she did, but...

she didn't.

Now I'm more interested in that story.

Let's put Pidge back into her house.

Pidge has left the building.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry her empty
birdhouse makes you sad.

Maybe you could fill it
with all your Charlotte

sadness and hang it
in a special place in your soul.

That's an awfully sad birdhouse
to have hanging in one's soul.

Hang it someplace
you don't have to see it.

It won't always be sad.

It'll be the happiest little
birdhouse when you're ready.

Make a little birdhouse in your soul.

Don't encourage her.

I think she looks divine.

Son of a bitch.

Wait! You forgot your message!

Pidge!

Pidge, wait!

You forgot your message!

As the aunts watched
Olive scream for help...

Pidge!

Help me! Pidge!

They considered their own birdcage

and wondered
if they were ready to leave it behind.

A few miles away...

Looking out across the fields and hills,

a beautiful woman named Elsita waited

for the man she loved
to make her heart complete.

Little did she know
Lefty Lem was already on his way.

What the hell do you want?

I'm from
the papen county historical society.

We'd like to photograph these premises
for our 87th annual "mills of the wind"

papen county collector's calendar.

Where's your camera?

It's in the car.

You're lying.

But I'm bored.

Never mind the singing.

Keep your eye on that bird.

You know what our problem is.

If you're referring
to the touching thing,

I see it as more
of an obstacle than a problem.

- It's a pretty big obstacle.
- Not compared to our other problems.

- We've got "other problems"?
- I'm gonna kill myself.

There's so much
I'm learning about you.

Such as?

You're romantic.

When the mood strikes.

And you're jealous
when the mood strikes.

Everyone's a little jealous.
If you're not,

you're probably...

Can we not talk about this?

The answer to your query is "yes."

No, actually, I want to talk about this.

I could let it go,
but like the cat, it will come back,

which I wouldn't call annoying,

but there's no way
of saying "half annoying,"

which it is a little bit.

See?
Isn't this neat?

We were thinking all
we had was one big problem, when,

in fact,
we have hundreds of little problems

that we got to sort out
before getting to the big one,

which means
we're like everybody else in the world.

Except I still can't catch you.

Yeah, we taking two cars next time.

That's a big ax.

I'm not gonna hurt you.
I promise.

This is...
just a precautionary measure.

Wouldn't it be easier if you put
the ax down, then tied the rope?

It's funny...
You really are a one-armed bandit.

Your name's not McClapping, is it?
As in The sound of one hand

'Cause names are destiny.

If you think Dwayne Cloggin
ain't gonna grow up to be a plumber,

then you just think again.

Oh, no, you didn't use
bows to tie me up, did you?

You take a hostage
like you tie your sneakers.

What is your problem?

Well, I was born into
the life of windmillery.

Are you gonna listen,
or are you gonna keep knocking?

I'm listening. You were born
into the life of windmillery.

Always waiting on
the wind to show up,

so you can start work,
and I'm no good at waiting.

I'm tired of it.

You sure it was the wind
that you were a-waiting for?

Did you just say "a-waiting"?

'Cause if you are mimicking me,

I will be out of these girly bows
faster than a snake through weeds!

I wasn't thinking, and I apologize.

it's just, well,
I have a lot on my mind,

and I'm in a bit of a rush.

Where you rushing to?

Well, I don't really know yet.

Well, maybe you better figure that out.

Go back to your knocking.

Come on, Pidge!

You can do it!

Not even a breeze
to help poor Pidge,

Which is kind of ironic,
given the surroundings.

Pidge! Come on!

The pigeon growing fatigued
with each flap of her taxidermied wing,

knew something the others did not.

Her journey was almost complete.

What was that?

It's my bird!

That's my bird.

What are you on about?
It's my bird.

I'll prove it.
I wrote the note.

Where's the note?

Hello!

Can I get my bird back, please?

- Your bird?
- Yes, my bird.

She's a carrier pigeon.

She has a message,
and she has to carry it.

It's what she does.

That's my message.

Elsa?

I'm Elsita.

Jackson?

I'm Lem.

Elsa was my mama.

Jackson was my prison bunkmate.

- Is "bunkmate" a euphemism for...
- Not in this case, ma'am.

There was a bitter chill
in the air the night Jackson Lucas

found refuge in the Vonroenn windmill.

already five days on the lam,
he knew the police were closing in.

To preserve his dreams of one day
owning an art gallery in Mexico,

Jackson decided to bury
his stolen treasure in the staircase

of the seemingly abandoned property.

His heart stopped, however,

when he saw an angelic
creature descending the stairs.

her name was Elsa,
and this was her windmill.

My name is Elsa.

This is my windmill.

It was love at first sight.

Knowing he had
very little time left,

he kissed her.

It was perfect moment.

The next moment...

was not.

I'll write you.

Elsa kept true to her word.

For the next 20 years,

she and Jackson continued
their love affair by correspondence,

letters sent to and fro

with the help of her virtually
untraceable carrier pigeon.

Until the day Jackson knew

he would no longer
be able to keep his promise.

Someone else
would have to do it for him.

After Jackson died,
I started to plan my escape.

It took me two years.

And all that time,
I kept writing to Elsa.

At first, I was writing out of loyalty

to the man who taught me
the ropes in prison, but...

after a while, I...

started to develop...

A condition?

For Elsa...

At least, I thought it was Elsa.

And mama made me swear on her deathbed
that I'd never stop writing to Jackson,

said it would break
his heart to learn that she died.

But each letter
was more beautiful than the last,

and I found myself
looking forward to them.

Well, your letters
were beautiful, too.

What's the big whoop?

Pidge brought them together.

How did she lose her wing?

I took her with me on the plane
when I busted out of prison.

She flew out the window after takeoff
and went right through the propeller.

Pidge crashed the plane.

Oh, Pidge.

- What happened to the diamonds?
- Diamonds?!

Holy crap!

Holy crap!

Now, now, let's not panic.

I'm sure it's just the mailman
or a windmill-to-windmill salesman.

Let me handle it.

As Olive peep through the peephole,
it occurred to her that,

while the carrier pigeon
was safe inside the windmill,

the same could not be said
for the sitting duck

currently waiting on the doorstep.

This was the moment
Olive Snook had been waiting for.

She need only open the door
to expose Chuck's deceit to the aunts,

and the pie maker could be hers.

It was everything Olive wanted...

and yet...

She knew that the aunts
would be traumatized by the discovery

that the late Charlotte Charles
was late no more.

In that moment,

Olive felt the angry fire in her heart

extinguished by a light breeze.

She had grown fond of Lily and Vivian

and could not bring
herself to hurt them.

Afternoon, gang!

- What the hell are you doing here?
- Pie delivery.

Tart apple, I believe.

With those two words,

Chuck knew.

Her aunts were inside.

If you know what's good for you,

and I think you do,
you'll give me two minutes.

- Why?
- What for?

- Okay.
- Goody, then.

Who was it?

Wrong mill. Must happen
a lot around here, huh?

Anyway, I feel just awful
that we've taken up so much of your day.

We should really be going.

Do you mind if we use the back door?

I just wanted to take a peek
at your garden on the way out. Thanks!

Bye!

Ned.

Do you remember before, when I told you
all the things I'd learned about you?

Jealous, romantic, jealous.

I felt I had to say it twice.

Right. Well,
now might be a really good time

for you to write down
all the things you learned about me.

Well, that way, if stuff happens...

just remember the list.

Time's up.

Well, now, wasn't that a nice outing?

I could use a drink.

Young people depress Lily
because she's afraid of dying.

As Lily wondered
whether she was afraid of dying

or simply missed feeling alive.

She allowed herself
one deep breath of fresh country air.

I don't think we've been out since...

Charlotte?!

No need to yell her name.

I think heaven's closer than we think.

I agree.

Hand up!

Lemuel, I'll write you!

The pie maker
and the girl he called "Chuck"

marveled at love's power
to conquer all obstacles...

Distance and time...

Hardship and pain...

A lack of reciprocation...

Even death.

Your husband was a great pilot.
He didn't kill himself.

A pigeon did, by accident.

With pidge's help,
the long-distance love affair

of Lefty and Elsita
continued to soar.

And the pie maker realized,

that while some obstacles
may never disappear...

Care to dance?

Yes, please.

You can always find
a way to work around them.

You caught me.

Capture: swsub.com

Sync: �AkaZab� & Toupack

www.All-about-Subs.fr