All language subtitles for Jonathan.Creek.S01E03.576p.00.59.00

Stand by, studio.

How's that mic? OK?

If you'd just clear the
group corner beyond row 3, OK?

We are recording. Quiet,
studio. And... cue her!

Good evening.

We start with a question for
all women in their mid-40s.

How would you like to look like this?

In your dreams? Not necessarily.

If you drool over this type of
beauty, it's available at a price.

Right. What you see is the result
of ten years of cosmetic enhancement,

to redefine myself physically until
I feel good about myself as a woman.

And if you're a sucker for the gory
details, this is the book to buy.

"Finding My Form" by our
guest tonight, Zola Zbzewski,

chronicles a bloodcurdling history

of face-lifts, tucks, bobs,
dermo-brasions and liposuctions

that transformed this
diffident 35-year-old

into a self-confessed plastic beauty in
control of her life, loves and career.

Zola, what do you say to those of us

who can't see anything wrong
with the way you looked before?

For 30 years of my life, I knew
what it was to be invisible.

My first boyfriend, when I was 19,
got me pregnant and walked away,

leaving me emotionally
shattered and with a daughter.

It taught me that to achieve any presence
in this world, looks are everything.

So, you saved up to go to a
plastic surgeon, Dr David Churchin

with whom you struck up a
rather bizarre relationship.

You describe him as
a... "a sad obsessive,

"who viewed me much as a sculptor
views the shapeless clay he will use

- "to fashion something of exquisite beauty. "
- It was like a fixation.

We'd be having a romantic supper and he'd
offer to drain off fat from my thighs.

Slowly, over the years, he rebuilt
me into the fantasy figure he craved.

Until finally you left him for
a Swedish swimming instructor.

I imagine he felt bitter about that.

Well, you'd have to ask him that.

Well, why don't we? He's kindly
agreed to join us here this evening.

Your surgeon and former lover
- Dr David Churchin!

Good evening, Dr Churchin. Welcome.

What is this?

Having ploughed through this
so-called record of our relationship,

I was surprised to find
it called biography.

Fantasy fiction is nearer the mark.

Here come the cheap cracks!

The operations were at her insistence.

She's the one who was obsessed with this
insane programme of total reconstitution.

What was I going to do?
For my sins, I loved her!

You loved the woman you were creating!

I didn't recognise
who you were becoming!

This is a sick mind! My lawyers will
make sure it never reaches the shelves!

My client doesn't need thisl

I'll throw seven kinds
of writ on all of you!

For defamation,
misrepresentation, I'll...

We've been joined by Miss
Zbzewski's manager, Sam Brickman.

I said, CUT!

Get this scalpel-happy quack out
of here or this interview is over!

As I made you, I'll destroy you,
at any cost and that's a promise!

- That God-awful
man! - What happened?

- What happened?
- Didn't I say he'd try to ruin me?!

Churchin? Since when
was he in the interview?

The interview was fine. We re-ran
it and your mother was fine.

It'll go out tonight and nobody
will know. Sally? Sam Brickman.

- Is he there?
- I'll be in the pool.

No, I'll hold.

Look... who is he? He is nobody.

Oh, I know, petal.

He's just a twisted, jealous nobody.

Like one half of the human race, but
we don't let them get to us, remember?

Hi, Adam Klaus's dressing
room, please. Jonathan Creek.

Isn't he?

I just wondered how rehearsals
went with the elephant levitation.

Oh, don't!

You're kidding me? Where is it now?

Now? Under the stage and singingl

It's jammed under the trap
and they can't shift it!

They were meant to check the
hydraulics before the dry run!

It's not very dry here at the moment,

by all accounts.

We have a five-ton elephant with irritable
bowel syndrome stuck inside a metal cage

with an audience coming in at 7.00I

It'll take more than a can
of air freshener, believe me!

TIE A KNOT IN ITS TRUNK!

Brilliant How's Adam taking it?

Adam's fine. Walked through here
a second ago laughing his head off.

That'll be drugs.

I'm sure they're working on it. Hopefully,
it'll be sorted by the time I get there.

OK, then, Ted. Bye.

- Has Rudi gone?
- Hmm? Thursday is his Tai Chi.

Sam said he'd drop by later. Go
through the itinerary for next week.

What time does that show go out?

10.35, after the News.

Woe betide them if they use so
much as one second of that...

What is it?

He's out there again. That
weirdo with the video camera.

They've had five reports in a fortnight!

I think I scared him away,
but be careful, please.

Someone could climb up that scaffolding.

Funny, I never thought he'd have the guts
to destroy everything I've worked for.

Things will sort themselves.

They always do.

Have a good time.

Hiya.

How are things on the pachyderm front?

Or shouldn't I ask?

Manage to get her out in one piece?

No trumpeting now, anyway.
Must be a good sign.

What?

What?

Good evening, Mr Creek.

I can't believe it.

Dead!

How can she be dead?

Are you sure it wasn't the
tranquilliser dart? Maybe she's dozing.

I don't think so, Mr Creek.

I think it was a coronary.

She was 57. It could
have happened at any time.

A coronary! We hired an
elephant with a heart condition?

I was in there feeding her iced buns!

I won't lie to you, Mr
Creek, she was overweight.

Know her biggest problem?
She never got enough exercise.

I was always telling her.

But, you know, she loved
the business so much.

I think it's the way
she'd have wanted to go.

Trapped under a stage,
knee deep in elephant dung

Bringing a little magic
into our lives, Mr Creek.

It would have made her very proud.

If you're a sucker for the gory
details, this is the book to buy.

"Finding My Form" by
our guest, Zola Zbzewski,

chronicles a bloodcurdling history

of face-lifts, tucks, bobs,
dermo-brasions and liposuctions

that transformed...

...diffident 35-year-old to
a self-confessed plastic...

Let's say I'm making up
for years of celibacy.

Hello? Barry! How are you do...?

Hang on a sec, let me kill this.

...Leaving me with a daughter.

It taught me that to achieve any presence
in this world, looks are everything.

So you...

So, what did you think?

Obviously we need more material, but...

Oh, great! Great.

Mmm. Tell me about it tomorrow. Are
we still on for lunch at Peschey's?

Brilliant. OK, Baz, see
you there. Love to Jason.

...but beauty?

Then, to enhance my mouth, he sucked
out a little fat from my behind -

believe me, there was plenty -

and implanted it in my upper lip.

My new breasts, he always teased me,
he modelled on the London Planetariuml

Our season continues next
week with "Espresso Bongo".

I don't think any publisher alive,
which I am barely, could say otherwise.

The crimes are colourful, consuming, with
a great crusading curve to the writing.

Plus, I adore this magic
character you've roped in.

For consultative purposes only.

I've got this theory that Jonathan
Creek is himself an illusion.

Just when you think you've found
him, he drifts away like smoke.

It's no good, Barry, I've got to have
that wardrobe. I'll be two seconds.

Barry Opper.

Oh, she was. She's just popped to buy...

Give me that again.

Uh-huh.

No, I will the minute she
gets back. For sure. Bye.

Three months I've been looking
for that exact wardrobe!

Have you heard of a
woman named Zola Zbzewski?

Have I? I nearly threw up watching her
have bits of her bottom sewn into her mouth!

- What about her?
- SOS from her daughter.

She's been arrested for murder.

By some miracle, we've
got bail till next Friday.

The rest of it is like a nightmare.

You're good at this, right?
Finding another side to it?

Why pretend I had no motive to kill him?

If he lived, he'd have sabotaged my book,
wrecked my plans for cosmetic surgery.

More than anyone else
alive, I wanted him gone.

Yes. I wouldn't dwell on that aspect in
the witness box. Juries are funny things.

You've got a bit of tissue on
your bottom lip... top lip, sorry!

Top lip. I don't know
why I called it that.

Um... we're looking at two
problems here, aren't we?

Churchin was killed at 10.37.
That's when a neighbour heard a shot.

For which time, you have no alibi.

I was here in this house on my own.

I worked through till quite
late, then got ready for bed.

10.30, just after, I remembered that
the interview I'd recorded was going out,

so I watched that, had
a bath and went to sleep.

Mmm. Problem number... two:

The police found one of your
earrings on Churchin's doorstep.

They found someone's earring.
I've never owned one like that.

I've never seen Zola
wearing that earring.

- Bless him, and he'd know.
- I like to lick around them.

What's rather tricky is there were skin
cells containing your DNA on the pin,

which suggests it had
been through your ear.

I have no explanation
for that. I'm sorry.

She's innocent, for God's
sake! You believe that?

This is like something
seriously weird is going on!

Unless...

Of course.

I'm supposed to be
meeting someone in town!

Leave this with me. I'll
put my thinking cap on.

Tell me there's a way
out of all this, somehow.

It's probably a mad idea, but...

What?

Churchin performed how many operations
on your mother over the years?

He'd have all manner of skin tissue and
cell samples filed away at his clinic.

Just maybe someone who was very clever
could use that to their advantage

to set her up for murder.

I'll be in touch.

...Which is one advantage of...

Hi.

- What are you doing here?
- We're next door with the show.

Of course you are! Of course.

How's it going?

Oh, we've had a few hiccups this week.

Right. One or two. I saw the News.

Anyway, I was...

- I'm Shelford.
- Sorry, this...

- Pleased to meet you.
- Jonathan Creek.

Madeleine's a little shy because... Shall I
tell him? The two of us are on a blind date.

Get out of here!

I placed an advertisement in
one of those contact columns.

Madeleine replied and here we
are, testing the water as t'were,

to see if we want to
get into bed together.

Not literally, I hasten to add.

That's just a term we use
in corporate management.

Though, speaking for myself, I must say,
one of Cupid's arrows has found its mark!

So... anyway... I expect
I'll be seeing you around.

- Unless you fancy a bite to eat?
- Not really. I'd...

Oh, I say, great idea!

I think I'm going to risk the
home-made vegetable lasagne.

Sounds good to me,
Jonathan. I'm on for that!

First of all, I need to pay a
visit to the little boys' room.

You are really enjoying this,
aren't you, watching me squirm?

To a large extent.

- Where is it, then?
- What?

The ten-year-old photo he sent you, before
he ballooned up and started moulting.

You've really got a nerve!

Do you think I'm so shallow
that I'd only meet someone

if I had proof they were young and good
looking?! I find that amazingly offensive!

Can I see it?

Frightening.

This may be unique
- a rare example of the passport syndrome in reverse.

Oh, um... two lasagnes, please.

I don't know what I
want. I'm not even hungry.

Drop of chilli with some rice.

And a spot of salad...
and some garlic bread.

A jacket potato.

Oh, and some crisps.

Anyway, what's the SP on Zola
Zbzewski? Think she did it?

Oh, what is this now? Not mind
reading, I can't cope with it!

The case is in the papers, her book's in
your bag. I wasn't trying to be clever.

It's early days, but
it doesn't look good.

Police found an earring
outside the victim's door

on which they found traces
of Zola's skin cell tissue.

She swears it's not one of hers.

Could be doctored it
with genetic material...

Yes, I had managed to
work that out for myself!

Any obvious candidates?

Daughter seems devoted,

boyfriend's like Judas Iscariot
with highlights, on another planet.

Haven't seen her manager, Mr Brickman.

He'd like to get Churchin, but he'd
hardly want to frame his own client.

- Tricky.
- Yes, but I'll get there,

so don't go worrying yourself!

- It's not my fault, all this.
- What?

This plan to make me jealous by
turning up with some stunning hunk

that has all gone wrong, thanks to
the bastard son of Forrest Gump here.

You must've known it was a risk.

That is the most arrogant,
egotistical thing...

That was unfortunate. I misjudged
the water pressure on those taps.

It went everywhere.

Fortunately, it's not
urine, so it won't stain.

I'm just having a new front put on.

Old habits die hard.

Sam and I were just talking.

- Have you had breakfast?
- Not yet.

Intriguing theory. Is it possible?

Somebody could have broken into his
clinic to get this cell tissue of Zola's.

Somehow applied it to
the pin on the earring.

It's a bit lumpy, I'll admit, but...

Who'd go to all that trouble?

Someone who wants you
put away for murder.

One or two of the more militant feminists
have been in touch in the past few weeks.

They weren't very nice people.

But why not go straight for Zola?

Why kill Churchin? I
don't see the logic.

I have to be elsewhere.

Keep me posted on any developments, OK?

Don't lose hope. We'll get there.

Is Victoria around this morning?

There's a couple of
things I wanted to ask her.

She's around. I'm not
sure that she's up yet.

Let me just check.

Sweetheart?

Nothing shocks you, does it?

My daughter and I have a
policy of share and share alike.

It's no different to lending her my car.

How do you know? There could be a motive
for your Swedish shwim... Swedish shwim...

Couldn't you have picked a
Danish one? It's easier to say.

Rudi's talents extend to
fornication and the back stroke.

It's inconceivable to me that he'd...

- What? What is it?
- That pervert!

He's been round here making home movies
for weeks. The police have never got him!

Careful, there may be prints!

I said he was out there,
before I left for the party.

This is Thursday, look.

The date on your desk
- the 6th.

Well, he certainly got his
money's worth, didn't he?

That's when I realised
the show had started.

Can you believe some sad
specimen goes out taking this?

He wants his whammer shutting in a door!

Actually...

...I'd give him a medal.

Forget the floor show. Look at the TV.

The programmes that
were on each channel.

Don't you see what this is?

This is proof that you were
at home on Thursday night.

Zola... this is your alibi.

We'll be in touch as
soon as we hear anything.

That'll give them
something to think about.

And for when it accidentally gets
raffled off, we've got copies as back-up.

I think that covers it.

Don't go without yours.

Thank you... for everything.

It's all part of the service.

It still doesn't tell us who killed
David and tried to put Mum inside.

No.

But it's a start.

Jonathan Creek.

Oh, sorry! Sorry. I'm looking at the
wrong number here. What am I like?!

I wanted Creative Hairstyling.

You're probably doing something important.
Killing an elephant, or something.

Yes, thank you I'm getting enough
grief from Adam, don't you start!

She was old. It wasn't my fault. What
was I to do? Ask to see her bus pass?

Check whether she puts her
tusks in a glass at night?

How are you doing with the human
Barbie doll? I've had some thoughts.

Want to meet? Toss a few ideas...

You're talking about Zola Zbzewski?
It's all tied up, actually.

With a big ribbon.

Yeah, I've managed to
establish a watertight alibi,

which we're expecting to lead
to a retraction of charges,

but thanks, anyway, I know you
meant well. Got to dash. Bye-ee!

I'm not in. I'm not in!

- Yup?
- Wardrobe for Magellan.

Oh, great! I'll be right down. Thanks.

Hi. I'll just give it the
quick once over before we start.

Yes!

Brilliant, I love it!

Just sign there, please, love.

I'm afraid I live on the top floor and it
won't fit in the lift, which is unfortunate.

Unfortunate is the right word.

Um... can you hang on
for us a sec, darling?

YOU BASTARDS! You complete bastards!
I can't believe you did that!

Morning.

Is this a coincidence?

One of our biggest clients
is round the corner.

Can I be of any help at all?

No problem.

Oh, thank you very much!

Careful.

Right.

In here will be lovely.

Yeah, um... try not to
scratch it if you can help it.

That's it.

Yeah, I think... probably, uh-huh.

Just against this wall for now.

What can I say?

You're a trooper.

I've got... an appointment at 12.00.

Have you?

You'd better look lively, then.

Yes.

So, you'll... give me a ring maybe?

Hmm?

Yes. Definitely.

Thanks ever so much.

Bye, Maddy.

OK, bye.

I don't care if he is
arranging an elephant's funeral,

just find him and tell him to
get his arse round here NOW!

So, let's run through this from the top.

The wardrobe was empty.

You closed the door.

You brought it upstairs,
through this door...

...and along here.

Mmm.

Around here...

...and into this room.

Against that wall.

By which time, somehow or other,
the cupboard has acquired a body,

brutally battered to death
across the back of her head.

Hmm.

- It's a good one, isn't it?
- A good one

Is that all you can say?

Somewhere between here and the ground,

someone has planted a corpse
in there and I didn't even see!

The cops think I'm mental.
It's seriously impossible!

What floor is this?

Fourth, and there are
eight flights of stairs.

Anyone else come near you
at any point on the way?

Mrs Barnstable, the next floor down,

brought out some
lemonade, but otherwise...

Mrs Barnstable the
celebrated lemonade doper,

with her trick of switching
cabinets under the victim's nose.

Zola Zbzewski is dead!

First someone tries to
frame her for murder,

and when that fails, they use a blunt
instrument and dump the body here,

presumably to try and rattle me!

If the best you can do is make
glib remarks, you can go home now!

Jonathan?

Nope. All seems pukka.

No panels, no breakaways,
no phantom joints.

Just a wardrobe, really.

So...

- Want to know how it was done?
- Yes!

That makes two of us.

NO! NO!

NO, SHE CAN'T BE!

Ah.

Yea... I don't know, sorry.

So you think it happened
on the third floor landing.

They pushed Zola in through the back of
the cupboard while it was by the window.

Mmm-hmm.

40 feet above ground, someone's shinned up
a sheer wall with a body over their shoulder?

- So, what? It's impossible?
- It can't be, because you saw it.

I can see you, you're still
impossible! What's that?

It's two things. Firstly, it's the head
off one of Mrs Barnstable's geraniums

which I found lying on
the ground out the back.

And, more importantly,
it's a point on the graph.

Another one...

Oh, I dunno.

What?

That overflow pipe below the kitchen window
has very recently been scratched and bent.

A few more co-ordinates, we'll start
to join them and see where this is...

...leading.

I get nervous. I have to eat.

It's a good combo. Have you never put
them together as ice cream flavours?

Did anything else out of
the ordinary happen today?

Any strange sounds,
visitors, phone calls?

Suspicious people with rope
ladders and large sacks?

Phone! There was a message, or
rather, there wasn't, on my machine.

But no one spoke. I suppose
someone got a wrong number.

- Have you had any incoming calls since?
- No, not incoming.

The caller's number
should still be logged.

If we dial 1471...

No number recorded.

- Could be blocked. More likely a mobile.
- Is this remotely relevant?

Probably not.

Madeleine Magellan.

Yes.

What?

A- A-And they're
absolutely sure that...?

Right. No.

Thanks, Jim.

I appreciate it.

Police. They found iron piping outside
Zola's house with her blood on it.

They've also matched the pipe to some
iron filings found in her head wound.

So, either someone went back
there to dump the murder weapon...

Or she was killed at home and then
brought five miles across town here

to my flat!

Jonathan!

Hmm?

It's called respect for the
dead. How many more times?

Do you know, this could be
another point on our graph.

What's that?

Do you know the difference
between a tracking shot and a pan?

Beg pardon?

That fence in her garden that this
was filmed over, how high was it?

Around six foot.

That tells us how tall our snooper was.

Over six feet, I
suppose he'd have to be,

to get these pictures and then
drop the camera over the side.

What's this to do with
a body in a wardrobe?

You think he was over six feet, do you?

Interesting.

What's that supposed to mean?

Sometimes it's useful to
look beyond the obvious.

What rubbish are you talking now?

Rubbish?

Rubbish. You could have a point.

- Where are you off to?
- To investigate the clue of the geranium.

Morning.

It's the bad penny!

Actually, it's my day off, so... um...

I don't know how you're fixed.

Oh, I bought you some underwear.

Oh, Shelford.

I think you'd better come in for a sec.

Look, it's not that I
don't find you attractive...

- Oh, good.
- No, that's not true.

It is that I don't find you attractive.

It's no reflection on you as a person.
You're very warm and kind and... generous.

But I don't want to spend another
second of my life in your company.

Do you understand?

It could never work, not
even as science fiction.

You and me are a total no-no.

Still, it's early days, isn't it?

And from little acorns,
mighty oaks do grow.

And the other thing is, I'm
already sleeping with Jonathan.

Where have you been?!

Love rocket, come here
and give me your tongue!

I'll... um... see myself out.

What in hell do you smell of?!

Two-week-old
halibut,

rotting chop suey.

I had to do that.

It was the only way
to get through to him.

Well, it seemed to work.

Oh, God... I need a bath.

What were you rummaging
around down there for?

At least we now know who
murdered David Churchin.

And it goes a long way to
explaining the miracle on the stairs.

Is there anything at all I can...?

SAM!

I... hope you don't mind.

My friend, Jonathan, has been
helping me with this story.

It's down to him that
we've got to the truth.

You mean, you know?

Victoria, I don't think we
should be talking to reporters.

I brought her in to help Mum, which she did,
so we can listen to what she has to say, OK?

What are they?

Two videos, which between
them tell the whole story.

Before that, Mr Brickman, what is
the number on your mobile phone?

What's that got to do with anything?

It's a simple enough question.

0850078674.

- Interesting.
- What is this?

Why did you ring my flat
without leaving a message?

I never did! Why would I ring your flat?

So, how come when we called 1471,
it was your number we wrote down?

You rang me at 11.45, the same
moment the wardrobe arrived,

because you wanted to make
sure there was no one at home.

You...

...killed my mother.

- YOU KILLED HER!
- I LOVED HER!

I LOVED HER!

I loved her.

Like every other man who ever met her!

God save us all!

You loved her, and that's why you
filmed her, isn't it, Mr Brickman?

On this tape.

May I?

This isn't real!

We talked about the
fence being six feet high.

You saw a tall man looking over the top.

I saw a short man standing on a box.

It's all to do with the
movement of the camera.

A tall man on the ground would
have walked along the fence

to follow her from room to room.

A man standing on a box swivels
the camera to keep her in frame.

A subtle distinction fairly
meaningless in itself.

Until we come to this.

#... Summer holiday,
no more worries for... #

It taught me that to achieve
any presence in this world...

That's the same thing we just saw

on the TV Zola was watching.

Not hard, was it, to whack it together.

"Porridge" and "Summer Holiday" are
available at the local video shop,

and the "Newsnight" titles you
just taped the following night.

Of course, Zola's interview
you'd recorded off air, anyway.

In other words, everything
we just saw was a fake.

She knew you were filming her because
that's exactly what you'd arranged.

When she pointed the remote at the set,
she wasn't watching live television at all.

She was switching on the
video to play this tape.

- No!
- When you filmed her it wasn't Thursday.

It was Friday. She wasn't
here on Thursday night.

- It's lies!
- That's when she went to murder Churchin!

NO!

She rang me soon afterwards, when
she realised about the earring.

She had no alibi.

She started to panic.

I had the idea of the Peeping Tom.

If we could make it look as if someone
had caught her on camera that night...

...it might see her in the clear.

So I was brought here
as an impartial witness

to be present when the tape was
"accidentally" found in the garden.

And, for a few hours,
that put the lid on it.

Till we realised you'd
got the wrong tape.

Yes. I think to leave your specially
edited tape lying around was careless.

So Victoria could give it to
me by mistake to take home.

We knew you'd realise when you saw it.

So we had to get it back fast.

Next morning, I picked her
up. We drove to your place.

We rang to make sure
there was no one there.

Yes, we got the machine.

So we assumed it was safe.

Zola went round the back
to look for a way in.

She told me to sit tight
in the car and wait.

That was it.

God knows how long I sat there.

Then I heard sirens.

So I knew something was
wrong, but I didn't know what.

In the end...

...I panicked and drove away.

But I think we can make an
educated guess at what happened.

Once inside, it doesn't take
Zola long to find the VHS,

which she switches for the
one you were meant to have.

But then, just as she's about
to leave, it all goes wrong.

Instinctively, she hides in the spare
bedroom and gets rid of the evidence.

On its way to the dustbin, it decapitates
a geranium from the floor below.

She probably thinks she's in the
room you're least likely to go into.

But by a cruel twist of fate,
it's the one you do go into.

She gets behind the door. What will
she do? She's cornered and frightened.

But something else is happening, too.

When they found her body with
the dent in the back of her head,

it was natural to assume
she was bludgeoned to death.

None of us considered
the real explanation.

When I first arrived to pick her up...

she was coming out of the house.

Oi!

It knocked her for six.

I sat her down, asked her if she
wanted a doctor, an ambulance.

But after ten minutes, she
just seemed to snap out of it.

Said she was fine.

We weren't to lose any
time getting this tape back.

Of course, she wasn't fine. The
concussion was already fatal.

A burst blood vessel in the brain which
didn't kick in until she was in the flat.

She was feeling groggy. She
was about to be found out.

What were her options?

There was an outside chance that
wardrobe would not be immediately opened.

She could lie low and slip out
later when no one was about.

That's it. Well done.

Seconds after she's inside,
she suffers a fatal haemorrhage.

So, when Maddy opened the doors...

...she found a dead body.

I suppose some people
might call that justice...

...but I...

Hang on a minute.

That 1471 number doesn't store mobiles!

- You couldn't have got my number that way.
- I didn't.

I wrote it down when she read it out.

Little bit of graphite
under the thumbnail.

It's as old as the hills.

Sorry about that.

You OK?

I shouldn't have gone. I'm not good
at funerals at the best of times.

It was so upsetting.

My God, I couldn't believe it when they
dropped the coffin outside the church.

- I know.
- When it broke open and her trunk fell out!

It's just... so undignified!

I thought they'd never
get that crane repaired!

You know Adam. Never
does things by halves.

We could have done without the ten
elephants trumpeting the Last Post.

I know. It sounded
more like a traffic jam!

I'm not a violent lady, Miss Magellan,

but I'm also not so pig ignorant not to
see how you're trying to steal my husband!

Now I'm giving you fair warning.

Keep your claws off him and
your nose out of our marriage,

or next time, you
won't have a nose left.

You know, it's funny, but the
humour of this completely escapes me.

Actually, I had noticed a pale line round
his finger as if he normally wore a...

wedding ring.

I'll go stick my head
down a toilet, shall I?

Make sure you flush it.