All language subtitles for Carnage.For.Christmas.2024.1080p.WEB.H264-WakefulUncoveredLobsterOfReputation_track3_[eng]

[static noises]

- Okay, so imagine this scene.

- Sure.

- A shitty motel in
some one-bus town--

it's familiar, a cliche even.

A girl, 18 years old
right out of high school,

a runaway-- her name is Annie.

- Seriously?
- I know.

I know.
It's a hard knock life.

Anyway, she's not
an exploding ginger.

She's blonde, super thin,
wavy hairdo, and so on.

She's run away from
home to get away

from her violent shit of a dad,
an old-fashioned bikie.

You know,
leather jackets and logos.

- Mm-hmm, The Wild Angels.

- But uglier.

Crazy movie, by the way.

Anyway, this piece of sentient
dick cheese has sent out

an underling of his to
track her down, real greasy,

white trash shit the
gang calls Floppy,

because of a drunken incident
in which he couldn't--

- Oh, gross.

- Indeed.

The thing is, Floppy
has ulterior motives.

- Of course, he does.

- He's got beef
with her dad, right?

And he has no intention
of actually finding her.

[suspenseful music]

- My God.
Are you serious?

- Mm-hmm.

So as it turned
out, not only did

she know that he
was following her,

but she was counting on it.

So when he threatened
her, she was ready.

- I have mixed feelings
about this one.

- Mm, me too.

You see, Floppy
deserved it hands down.

But as far as I can gather,
the other three out of five

were seemingly unrelated.

I think she might have
just gotten a taste for it.

And guess what.

- Mm.

- That's right, dear listener.

Annie is a subject of
next week's podcast.

So if you want to
know more, you're

just going to have to tune in.

- You're such a tease.

- Always.

Any emails this week, Riley?

- Oh, do we have emails?

We have two dick pics.

- Mmm, any good?

- No, nothing to brag about.

- Ugh.

Wandering through the desert
out here, ladies and gents.

- But we do have an email here
from a Spring-Heeled Jack.

- I swear we get more
references to Jack the Ripper

on this murder podcast
than there are Jesuses

in a mental institution.

Although, I always appreciate
a history buff among us.

- I guess you could say he
had a spring in his step.

- Oh, Riley, this is
an upscale podcast.

We can't be having dad jokes.

- Anyways, I'll
just get into it

and see what Mr. Slinky
Shoes has to say.

"Dear Riley and
Lola, new listener,

big fan of the podcast.

This question is for Lola.

What got you into
murder cases?"

- Hmm.

I haven't had this
one in a while.

What do you think, Riley?
Should I tell him?

- Yes, yes, please.

I love this story.

- So my shitty little home town
that I grew up in, there was

this urban legend slash
coming-of-age age ritual

amongst boys mostly,
but it really

had the town in its grips.

Probably still does.

These dark things--

[disturbing music]

- they tend to linger.

There was this old, abandoned
house not far from my place

that all the kids
were scared of.

You see, the house belonged
to an old man in the 1930s.

Nice guy.

The kind of guy you'd be happy
to have as your neighbor.

And he used to make
these toys out of wood.

Beautiful things.

Dying art really.

And every Christmas,
he'd run about the town

dressed as Santa, handing out
toys to the neighborhood kids.

But everyone else knew
that he had a dark side,

a real jealous streak.

One night, he wakes up from
a dream where his wife has

cheated on him and
he's in a blind rage,

decides to murder
his whole family,

chops them up, wraps
them in wax cloth,

hides them around the house.

The attic, in the walls,
under the floorboards.

They found him swinging
from the rafters upstairs,

dressed in a Santa suit.

The only one left
unaccounted for was

his youngest daughter, Nell.

Our parents told us
it was all bullshit.

But you try telling a town
filled with teenagers that that

never happened, which brings
me to the aforementioned coming

of age ritual.

My so-called friends, Barry
and Brick, said they'd done it,

so they made me do it.

It went like this.

You get blindfolded, and you're
put in this old house alone.

And I remember you had to
say these specific words.

You stand in this old house
and you say, Toymaker,

Toymaker, crawl up from hell.

Show me where you buried Nell.

I promise I won't tell.

And then at this
point in the legend,

he either kills you
with his hammer,

or he shows you the
body of his dead kid

and swears you to silence
or he'll follow you

all the way home and kill you.

- I do feel it is important
to say to the gentle listeners

that this is, in fact, not
a work of horror fiction

and is our girl
Lola's real life.

- That's right.

And it was just then that
I heard the floorboards

creaking behind me.

"Still playing
this old game, eh?"

It was just old man Beer Ken,
as kids used to call him that.

He was just a local drunk.

"Don't worry, kid," he said.

"I'm not the old
Toymaker's ghost."

And then he stumbled
over to the peephole

and peered through it.

I wasn't sure what
he was up to so I

ducked away into a cupboard.

- Ah, I gobbled up your little
mate, and I'm still hungry.

[screams]

- I suddenly realized there
was a secret compartment

in the cupboard, a fake back.

I always noticed these kind of
things, things that were off.

If I'd been there
back in the day,

I would have noticed the marks,
the scratching mice and rats,

and knowing that they must have
been after something behind it.

I'd done, by accident,
what the police never did.

Staring into those
empty eye sockets,

that's when I realized
I could have found her,

maybe even saved her
or someone like her.

And so I had to figure it out.

Who was the Toymaker?

And what makes a person
who's kind enough

to hand out gifts to
children at Christmas snap

and kill their entire family?

And how do you catch
someone like that?

Anyway, that is the story
that started it all.

- And sadly, I feel like we
have to say goodbye because we

have gone way over time.

But tune in for next week's
podcast, "Riley and Lola

on the Nancy Crew Show."

All right.

Smell you later and
beware of the old Santa

at your local shopping center.

- Sweet dreams.

[punk music]

- It's so good.

- Are you kidding me?

You could have waited for me.

- Sweetie, if we waited
for you every time,

we'd starve to death.

There'd be two skeletons
sitting at the booth.

- That'd be a mystery to solve.

- Yeah, I think the cops
could solve that one.

- Are you sure?

- You could at least order
some garlic bread next time.

- Garlic gives me the farts.

- Because you're
a vampire, right?

- I wish.

Eternal life sounds fun.

- Yeah, but could you have
eternal life without pizza?

I guess she's not that
committed to being

a vampire then.

- It doesn't stop her from
feeding on other people's

lives, though.

- Feeding off of
other people's lives

is literally what
journalists do.

Touchy.

I hear you told your story
on the podcast today.

So when are you going
to let me write it?

- One day, dear Watson,
you can chronicle

the many adventures
of my fantastic

life, when I have them.

I mean, if I have them.

- Careful what you wish for.

- You will.

You're always poking into
every mystery you can find.

One day, one will poke back.

- That's what I'm
worried about.

- Well, if it makes either
of you feel any better,

I spent my entire
week just cataloging

and doing legal bullshit.

- Fuck, I hate both
of those things.

- You've got that thing
with the bugs next semester,

though, right?
- Bug thing?

- Oh, my God.

Corpse eating carrion,
like flesh-eating bugs.

- Uh-huh.

- You'd be surprised
what you can

find out from a body by what's
eating it from the inside out.

- Like maggots and shit?

- Uh-huh.

- That's it for me.

- Oh, come on, Farrah.

Don't act like
it's not amazing.

- Yeah, but gross.

- Totally gross.

That's what I'm hoping for.

Always spend the entire time
just fucking cataloging bugs.

- So how are you
feeling, my love?

- Fine.

Whatever do you mean?

- You know what, Lola.

- Oh, just my imminent return
to my oppressive little

shithole town that I'm from?

That?

- How long has it been
since you were back?

- I think I escaped
when I was like, 16.

- Are you, like, totally
fucking nervous about it

or what?
- Delicate, Farrah.

- I mean, I'd be lying
if I said

that I wasn't
a little bit nervous.

It's not exactly
like I ran around

where I left telling everyone
that I was coming out as

trans or--

and fucking
everyone's going to be

there because it's Christmas,
so everyone's returning.

And it's, like, going to
be a fucking shit show.

And it's just like,
I'm not ready for all

the fucking questions.
Do you know what I mean?

And it's just like--

[loud clatter]

Fuck.

- Hm, preaching to
the choir there.

We wouldn't know
anything about that.

- Guys, look, I know I'm
not the only queer person

with a tragic backstory.

Sorry.
- No, don't apologize.

We were sharing
our family trauma.

- Well, how healthy of us.

- Just let me know if
you need anything, okay?

- And if anything goes down
in that Gothic town of yours,

you know where to find me.

- I do.

I love you guys.

- I love you too, bitch.

You got this.

[club music playing]

[lively chatter]

[alarm goes off]

- Too early.

What's the rush?

- There'll be trucks
and cars full of kids

getting to Christmas.

You know the drill.

- Don't go.

- Baby, you know I have to go.

- [groans]

- I love you.

I love you.

- I love you more and better.

- [chuckles]

[techno music]

♪ Hush, hush, hush now

♪ Hush, hush, hush now ♪

♪ You're being too loud

♪ You're being too loud ♪

♪ Welcome to my illusions ♪

♪ My refute is your delusion ♪

♪ Welcome to silent options

- The pack of Yeti menthols.

- Get back to work, Barry.

[ominous sounds]

[car starts]

- Lola.

- Uh-huh.

Danielle?

Your sister is here.

You remember me, right?

- How could I forget?

You gave me my first
nipple twister.

- [laughs] Yeah.

Welcome to the house, bitch.

[pleasant music]

- Lola?

Oh, my gosh.

You're beautiful.

Isn't she gorgeous?

- Scrubs up well, I guess.

- Oh, put your stuff in the
first bedroom on the left,

and then come to the lounge
for a glass of bubbly.

- You're not gonna
break out the good stuff

for this little shit, are you?

- Ignore her.

She's the same old butch bitch.

- Oh, nice.

- And everyone at
school was right.

She was a dyke all along,
so watch out for her.

- Yeah.

Not my type.

- [mouthing] Be nice.

[TV show dialogue]

[crickets chirping]

- Did I tell you Danielle's
brother's back in town?

- I thought she was trans.

- Yeah, sure whatever.

- Come on.

Don't be all classic
transphobic like--

- I'm not transphobic.

- Yeah, sure.

Okay, just be nice to her and
shut up and jump me, okay?

I've got the night shift
in hour and a half,

and I wanna feel
lighter on my feet.

- The fuck?

[screaming]

[music box music]

[cries]

[haunting music]

- Fuck, shit.
Oh!

[kettle whistling]

Jesus, Danny.

Get yourself a decent
coffee machine.

Your not washing your clothes
down by the river, are you?

- No, Lola, we don't.

We just don't have
real coffee much.

So I went to the store and
bought you a nice brand,

and now it's burnt.

I'm sorry.

- Well, don't be.

Even burnt coffee is better
than no coffee at all.

Has Julie hopped it?

- Funny you noticed.

I swear she sneaks
out of the house

like I'm her mother
or something.

- It's a bit Freudian.

- Right?

She usually comes home, though.

- Do you think it's me?

- Oh, no, it's--
no, I doubt it.

I mean, she's a bit--

but she wouldn't hide away.

- You're right.

The Julie I know would
stay just to pick on me.

- She's changed a lot
since we were teens.

- Could have fooled me.

You have though.

What happened to the metal
t-shirts and skinny leg jeans?

- They were called stovepipes.

And I don't know.

Things change.

- You're right.

- She could've
messaged me at least.

Things aren't like they were
out there when we were kids.

- Hm?

- The economic crisis
hit us pretty hard.

Farms were lost,
businesses closed.

I mean, things got a lot
better later, in general,

but it got a lot
rougher around here.

Bad people got a lift.
- I had no idea.

- I guess they don't care
much for small town problems

in the big city.

- No, they don't care about big
city problems in the big

city either.

They step over homeless
people like they're

trash on the sidewalk.

I never could get used to it.

[door bell rings]

- Maybe Julie forgot her keys.

[ominous music]

I don't understand.

Is this a joke?

- The Toymaker.

Would Julie do something
like this just to scare us?

- No way.

- Are you kidding me?

And what's this supposed to be?

- It's evidence.

- I don't have time for this.

- Looks like you've
got plenty of time.

- Who is this?

- My sister.

- I didn't know
you had a sister.

- Well, now you do.

Are you going to look for her?

I'm not going to call
a search for Julie.

She's probably out
scissoring someone's wife.

- I beg your pardon?

- Look, if it'll keep your
panties out of a twist,

I'd do a call to keep
an eye out for her.

If she's still AWOL
in a couple of days,

you can file a
missing person thingy.

- I'm sorry, a
missing person thingy.

This guy's a fucking moron.

- Hey, I could
have you arrested

for just talking like that.

- Constable Banks.

- Senior Constable.

- Congratulations
on the promotion,

Senior Constable Banks.

Are you at least going
to look at the card?

- Creepy.

Looks like a prank.

- It's clearly threatening.

- If Julie was fiddling with my
wife, I'd be threatening

her, too.

Look, you have no idea how
many kids or even grown ups

are pranking us with
this Toymaker bullshit.

If we investigated every
prank or Toymaker sighting,

we would have no time to
catch any real criminals.

- Oh, my God.

Forget about it.

Come on.
Let's go.

So I'm guessing
there was an incident

involving someone's wife?

- Sort of.

Small town bullshit.

Cassie Connor-- well,
Cassie Summers then--

but she was already
separated from her husband,

and Julie had a
little fling with her.

That's all.

The entire thing was
blown out of proportion

by a ton of fucking Karens.

- Wait, wait, wait.

Summers?

As in Barry Summers?

- Yeah, his brother Paul.

- Swear to God.

This town has more fucking
soap opera bullshit

going on than Ramsay Street.

- Uh-huh.

Yeah.

- Do you know where
Julie's friends live?

- No, but I don't have to.

They all hang out
at the Nowhere Club.

- What?

- The Nowhere Club.

It's a gay bar.

- Sorry, a gay bar.
Here?

- Well, it's more of
a nightclub really.

- A nightclub in this town?

[dance music]

[bar chatter]

- Hey.

- Well, well, well.

Look what the cat dragged in.

- Does that make me the cat?

- Jed says that every time.

It's the one with
the loud mouth.

- The nerve on this one.

- Everyone, this
is my sister, Lola.

- I've heard so much about you.
- Oh, no.

- Oh, yes.

Your sister's quite
the town gossip.

- I'm not.

Okay, maybe I am a little bit.

- This is Kit.

Her sister's name is Kat.

I shit you not.

- Yeah, look, the parents
had a bit too many.

- Obviously.

- This is Abby.

- Hi.
- And the lady Sarah.

- Don't listen to
this silly bitch.

- I am a baroness.

- Really?

- No, but I just like to think
I'm classier than these girls.

- Lola, darling, you don't
recognize me, do you?

- What?

- Mr. Proctor?

- One in the same.
- No.

- Wait, what's this?

- I was actually a teacher at
St. Jones High back in the day

when Lola was in town.
- Wow, really?

- Yeah.
- You're a teacher?

- Mm-hmm.
- What'd you teach?

- Business maths.

I actually used to teach the
girls hockey team as well.

Danny here was quite
the pro back in the day.

- I was okay.

- I remember you teaching--

- No, don't say it.
Don't you say it.

- Yeah, what?
- No, seriously.

I'll take it to my grave.

- Religious education.

- No, you fucking didn't.

- Yes, yes, I did.

You are a mean girl.

- Well, you failed me.
- No, I didn't.

- You did in year 10.
You failed me.

I had to take that class twice.

- Wait a minute.

The essay saying
that the apostles--

- Faked the Resurrection.

- Oh, my God.

No, seriously, I
was so mad at that.

That was you.

That was you, wasn't it?

Oh, my God and she
was so good about it.

Like a bloody
detective, she was.

- Wait, weren't you the kid
that found that skeleton

of the missing girl?

- That was her.

- That's fucking amazing.

And obviously really horrible.

That would have been, like,
a really horrible experience.

- Has anyone heard from Julie?

- I thought she hopped off.

- She's probably snuggling
somewhere with Kat.

- No, I mean, Kat's on
night shift all weekend.

I mean, I didn't
speak to her today,

but that's not
actually unusual, so.

- Where does she work?

- Greenleaf station on Main.

- Julie snuck out to see
her last night, I'm sure,

but she never came home.

- That's-- that's weird.

I might call her and
just see where she is.

- Is she usually so secretive?

- Not with us.

- I mean, it's not necessarily
safe to be out here,

if you know what I mean.
- I see.

- No, no, no.
Don't bring up her ex.

- Fucking Jerry.

Still has eyes on her.

He's a fucking creep.

- Wait.

Jerry.

As in Brick Kelly?

- Yes.

- Sorry, Brick?

- That's what we used
to call him at school.

He was-- is a little
stupid, I guess.

[laughter]
- Come on.

He's not that stupid.

He's just kind of
lazy and aggressive.

His parents own that big
chicken factory up on the hill,

so he never had to
try at anything.

And they ignored him,
which made him act out.

How did Kat end up with him?

- Kind of charmed his way in
with her at the beginning.

I mean, like, the family
wasn't doing great at the time.

He just came in with these
rugged good looks and swept--

- Whoa, stop, stop, stop.

Rugged good looks?

- I hate to admit it.

He came out of the awkward
teens looking pretty good.

- Ew.

- What other fucked guys from
my childhood got a glow up?

- Well, I don't
know about Barry.

He stayed the same, really.

But Dave went to
the city for uni

and had some kind of
argument with his family,

and now he runs a
history society.

- Seriously.

Wow.

- People change, I guess.

- I guess.

Anyway, ladies, raise
'em if you got 'em.

Danny and I have to go.

I got a paper to write.

- And, honey, be sure
to come back anytime.

Suffice to say, I
don't teach anymore.

I actually own this
shithole, so you got

a home away from home here.

All right?
So just remember that.

- I will.
Thank you.

- Nice to meet you.

Do you mind trying Julie again?

- Yes, I can.

- If Kat doesn't
answer her phone,

I'm gonna fucking kill her.

- Let me guess.
We're going to the Greenleaf?

- Uh-huh.

- You haven't changed a bit.

- This town sure fucking has.

- That's for sure.

For better and worse.

- You know, your friends
are pretty fucking cool.

- Yeah.

They're Julie's friends really.

They're so nice to me.

- Danny, they're nice
to you because they're

your friends, too.

- I guess.

- No.

Kat isn't here today, and she
never woke up for her shift

last night either.

So if you see her,
tell her to not

bother coming back in again.

- Lovely.

Is she usually so
unreliable with shifts?

- What are you, a cop?

- No.

- Well, if you're not
gonna get any fuel,

wanna come inside and have
a cup of cruelty-free,

fairly acquired
coffee I got in there?

- Listen, I don't think
we're gonna waste any more

of your valuable time.

[ominous sounds]

It's still the same
shitty town, just

glossed over a little bit.

There's like cafes with real
coffee and fancy servers

and even that queer bar.

I don't know.

It's the same, but different.

- I guess you can paint over
the walls of a haunted house,

but the ghosts are still there.

- Hey, that's poetic.

You should give that to Farrah.

- No way.

She can come up with
her own material.

- Anyway, Charlie, I'm really
worried about this thing--

- Lola, the TV, quick!

It's about Julie!

- Well, authorities
have said that she

was likely a victim of a
robbery gone tragically wrong.

The police have refused to
go on record about the state

of Kat Lancaster's body,
which was discovered

by local teen Mark Palomo.

Miss Lancaster was
last seen with Julie

Lane, who has been missing
since the night of the attack.

- I can't believe
I let you talk

me into letting you tag along.

- You're so friendly.

Besides, it's not safe
for you out here alone.

- We may not even be
safe out here together.

So keep the
flashlight down, okay?

- Do you see anything?

- Police made a fucking
mess of the scene.

There's footprints everywhere.

You know they towed the car,
but I don't think they even

fucking dusted for prints.

Wait.
- What-- what is it?

- Are these hammer marks?

- Lola?
- Nothing.

[police car chirrs]

Shh, get down.

[police radio chatter]

- Do you think he saw us?

- I fucking doubt it.

The cops in this town always
have one hand on their dick

and one hand on their phone.

- But we need to
be careful, okay?

- What did you find?

- I think Julie got away.

- Are you sure?

- Yeah, but I don't
know for how long.

Wait here.

- Fuck that.

Lola, wait for me!
- Don't come here.

- Why?
- Trust me.

- [screams]

[disturbing music]

- So Julie's parents
never showed them?

- No, they disowned
her after-- you know.

And Kat's parents are
both passed on, so.

It was a car accident.

The twins were 17
when it happened.

It was terrible.

- Poor Kat.

- All alone in the world now.

- No, she's not.

But it's sure gonna
fucking feel like it.

- I don't know.

Twins are different,
especially when it's--

- Piece of fucking shit.

I know it was you.

- Fuck are you talking about?
- I'm gonna fucking kill you.

- Get the fucking away.
- Hey!

- I didn't fucking
touch your bitch!

- Any more of this, you're
gonna spend the night in jail,

Kit.
- Are you fucking serious?

- Back away.

- At my sister's funeral.

- Back away.

- What are you
gonna do about it?

- Back away.

- You haven't done
anything about it.

What are you gonna do about it?

- Back away.

- [sobbing]

- Was that Harry Thatcher?

- Yeah.
Old man, Beer Ken.

- Still playing
this old game, eh?

- Poor guy.

- What, his liver
finally popped.

- No he was bashed to death.

[squelching, splattering]

They found him by an old pub.

Botched robbery, they said.

- There's a lot of
fucking botched robberies

going on around here.

- You.

Lola or whatever.

Sergeant Kelly wants
to speak to you.

- Well, why don't you
lead the way, Constable?

- Senior Constable.

- I want to come with you.

- Just stay here.

[wind whooshing]

- Grab a seat.

I understand you came back
to town a couple of days ago.

- That's right.

- It says here you
were christened as--

- I know what I
was christened as.

I had it changed
to Lola legally.

- I see.

And you here for Christmas?

- Correct.

- With your family?

- My sister.

- You only have your sister
and your father here.

Is that correct?

- Obviously.

- Have you seen your father?

- No.

- Why not?

- Listen, is this any of
your fucking business?

- Look, Lola,
here's what I know.

This town hasn't
seen a crime worse

than shoplifting or a drunken
fight in quite some time.

Then you arrive from the big
smoke, and we have two murders.

- You think I'm the killer?

- I am aware of what you do.

Student of forensic
science, and you're

a host of a radio
show about such--

- Podcast.

- A podcast, then.

- Details, Sergeant.

They're everything,
wouldn't you agree?

- When you were a little--

when you were a child,
you discovered the remains

of Nell Jenkins,
the missing girl

of this town's only murder.

- Only murder?

Are you for real?

- I beg your pardon?

- Murders in Purdan.

Quite a history
of them, actually.

1853, an Indigenous family is
murdered, including two kids,

after the father is
suspected of stealing eggs--

fucking eggs.

1923, Bethany Jans is murdered
by her psychotic fucking

husband in a blind drunk rage.

He got off too.

Temporary insanity,
just like he

was temporarily
insane every time

he beat the living
Christ out of her.

1946, war time.

Michael Arata, a
Japanese abattoir worker,

he was murdered.

What was his crime?

Being Japanese?

He had blunt force trauma
consistent with three

police cudgels.

But your boys did a mighty fine
job of covering that one up.

Not quite good enough, though.

And I've come back to town only
to find that old man Thatcher,

old man Beer Ken, the town
drunk when we were growing up,

he was murdered in a
botched robbery attempt.

There's a fucking ton of
botched robberies going around,

wouldn't you say?

- Yes, yes.

I see your point.

- Do you?

Because I could go on.

- I'm sure you could.

The point is, these killings
took place after you

arrived back in town.

Now, I'm not saying
you're the killer,

but I do think you're
a troublemaker.

Where people like you
go, trouble follows.

And I don't want
trouble in my town.

There is a possibility
that whoever the killer

is followed you here.

A famous local who
solved an old case now

gets to solve another one.

You, person with a checkered
history and a dubious--

what would you kids
call it, a fan base?

Furthermore, I don't think
it's unreasonable to assume

that the anonymous caller who
found the body of Julie Lane

wasn't just some passerby
taking a piss in the bush

but rather someone who
was looking for her

or knew where she was.

And though I can't prove this,
knowing your preoccupations,

there is a distinct possibility
that you made that call.

- I'm free to leave.

- You can leave this
office whenever you like.

We're not holding you.

- That wasn't a question.

- I see.

As I said, you can leave this
office whenever you like.

But the town, no,
not until I say so.

You're still a person of
interest in this case,

after all.

- Well, that's great because
I fucking love it here.

Merry Christmas, Sergeant.

- One more thing.

You're gonna stop interfering
in our investigation

or I'm gonna have you arrested.

- Well, then I'd get
to investigating, then.

- Yes, it's me.

Get Constable Ken to keep
an eye on Lola Darling.

I want to know every
move she makes.

[sinister music]

[raven caws]

- Calling Unit 1,
code 212 at the bottom

of South René Street.

- Can't hear.

A code what?

- Someone on night
shift witnessed someone

abducting Sarah Whitmore.

- No identification?

- They said it
was the Toymaker.

- The fuck?

- That's what he said.

He saw the Toymaker
just carry her away.

- Yeah, sure.

[tense western music]

[knocks on door]

Ladies.

- So let's get one
thing straight.

You're watching the house
the entire time that Sarah

was getting abducted?
- Well, actually--

- Why are you here?
Why aren't you looking for her?

Do you do anything?

- Hey, don't talk to me like--
- Fuck you, Jim.

- Listen,
I'm just doing my job.

I was told to come here and let
you guys know that I was here

when everything happened.

So neither of you
are under suspicion.

- No shit.

But if you know anything,
you need to tell me.

- We were here the entire time.

What could we possibly
fucking tell you?

- We have the whole town
waking up to the rumor that

a ghost from the fucking '30s
is going around killing people,

Okay?

And the sergeant has us looking
for any suspicious people

following you around.

- Is that possible?

- No, I don't think so.

- Do you have any
enemies or any stalkers?

- Lola?

- No, I mean, any trans
woman on the internet

gets a lot of shit.

Terfs, religious idiots,
incels, the occasional chaser.

- What's a chaser?

- Chaser-- someone chasing
a chick with a dick.

They ride in on their
white horse-- wine, dine.

But in the end, they're
just looking to get it in.

- Right, right, right, right.

Any chaser or stalkers?

- No, I'd know.

- Yeah, you would.

Hey, listen.

I like your
podcast, by the way.

- Oh, thanks.

- Yeah, it's pretty good.

I'm kind of into that stuff.

It's the whole reason
why I became a cop.

Look, the senior constable's
the old-fashioned prick.

You know, find the most
convenient suspect,

get enough dodgy evidence on
him, and then put him away.

But look, if you're doing
your own investigation,

I want to help, but you
need to help me, too.

- Why should I trust you?

- Well, I was here last night,
so I'm not the Toymaker.

- Right.

Here's how this is gonna go.

You're gonna give me
everything you have,

and then I'll decide
if I can trust you.

And I come and go as I please.

Is that clear?

- Fine.

And if anybody asks you,
you're tired of the sight

of my handsome face.

- Fine.

And if you catch me anywhere
I'm not supposed to be,

no, you didn't.

Deal?

- If I turn a blind eye
to any unlawful activity,

even for the greater
good, I could lose my job.

Fine.

Give me your phone.

This is my number.

Track me, and call me
if you need anything.

Okay?

Now I gotta go.

I have an avenging
ghost to catch.

- Nice piggy.

- I bet you know his whole
life story, don't you?

- No.

Well, yes.

- Well, it'll have to wait.

- Where are you going?

- I'm not looking
for an avenging

ghost, that's for sure.

Stay here.

Lock the door.

Arm yourself.

Don't answer to
anyone but me, okay?

And tell the others
to do the same.

I'm sure this
fucking sick idiot

is out there looking for them.

- I will.

And you be careful too.

- Me?

Always.

- She hasn't changed
a fucking bit.

- Dave?

Dave Roberts?

- Lola, hey.

- Oh, my God.

You've changed.

- Yeah, I guess so.

- You look good.

- You too.

- Danielle said
that you worked here, so...

I, um, here I am.

Decent gig?

- Yeah.

It's volunteer for now,
but I like it.

- You know, I love
these old typewriters.

- Well, here, this uh--

I wish this one worked.

You can't actually get
the ink threads anymore.

But if it were up to me, I'd
probably just ditch the laptop

and just have this in the
office instead, if it worked.

- I'm guessing you don't get
that many people through here.

- Yeah, you're the
first one this year.

- That sounds like heaven.

I work at this big burger
joint back in the city,

and we get tons of drunk people
in and out all night, so.

- That'll be hell for me.

- Hey, listen.

I was actually hoping
to run into you.

I was hoping you could help
me with a little research.

- Yeah, of course.

What's happening?

- Do you remem--

do you remember the
old Toymaker house?

- I remember dropping a
nugget in my pants because

of the old Beer Ken, yeah.

- Really?

- Yeah, that's--

I always wanted to
ask you actually.

You planned that
with him, right?

- No, he was in there
sleeping off a hangover.

He scared the shit
out of me, too.

- Right.

Um, I--

- Yeah?

- I really regret the way
that we treated you

back then.

- Hey, don't worry about it.

Everyone treated me
like that back then.

Small town filled
with small people.

I can tell you've changed.

- Yeah, I'm really
sorry about--

[sniffles]

Look.

Sorry.

What were we
talking about, the--

the house, did you say?

- Oh, my God.
Right.

- Yeah.

- So I'm looking for
anything about anyone that

lived there after the murders.

- Right, Nancy Crew on
the case then, yeah?

- You're a listener.
- Of course.

- You know, I never thought I
would have anyone in this town

listen to my podcast.

And now I found out that I've
got two fans since coming back.

- I mean, there's
probably more.

I know some of the
high school kids do.

You're the closest thing this
town's got to a celebrity,

besides the Toymaker.

Well, anyway, I don't--

I don't know if there's
anything interesting.

- You don't believe
in ghosts, do you?

- Sometimes I do.

With all that's happening now,
who knows what's real anymore?

Yeah, legends have--
legends have power.

If it were up to me, I would
make a museum of the Toymaker

in that house and then have
the legend attract tourists.

- Dave, that's really dark.

[whispering]
I think it would work.

- You know, I asked
the mayor and council.

They didn't want
anything to do with it.

They said they
didn't want a town

where everyone were, like,
freaks and ghost hunters and--

- That's a pity, because I
like freaks and ghost hunters.

- Yeah.

Look, if there's any
records or anything,

they'd probably be
in the office, so.

[phone ringing]

- What's up?

- Hey, pig.

Listen.

I need you to dig
up something for me.

I was just at the old
Historical Society.

That place is fucking dusty.

Anyway, can you look up
a police record for me?

- Seriously?

You know that's not as easy
as it is, like, in the

movies, right?

- Yeah, trust me.

I know.

Something happened in 2018 that
relates to the Toymaker myth.

All I could find was newspaper
clippings and articles,

but they were all
redacted or snipped out.

Seriously, why doesn't this
town fucking digitize anything?

I figure if there's
anything that's left,

it's at the precinct, right?

- Yeah, no need.

I know what it is.

It was a botched
murder attempt.

A group of French backpackers
were going through the town,

stayed a few days.

One of them was, uh, trans.

- Go on.

- Well, apparently was
arrested by a few locals

at the Fox and Falcon pub.

- Who?

- Uh, B something.

Barry Summers.

Gerard--

- Barry and Kim?

- Huh?

- Nothing.

Go on.

- Well, apparently
somebody else

tried to attack her
when she went out

for a packet of cigarettes
a few days later,

tried to drag her through the
alley, beat her with a hammer.

But she fought him off,
gave the ghost a good kick

in the olives apparently.

[screams]

- Nice, that's the stuff.

- Yeah, well, the victim
didn't see the face,

and a witness walking her
dog said, and I quote--

[dog barking]

- He was wearing a
creepy Santa costume

like my grandpa used to wear.

- And let me guess.

Sarge said it was just some
unrelated out-of-towner, right?

- Yep.

- Fucking idiot.

At least he couldn't put that
one down to a botched

robbery, right?

Listen, you've kept up your
side of the bargain.

[gags]

Constable?

Kent?

Constable Kent, are you there?

- Yeah, I'm here.

Are you anywhere near
that old Toymaker's house?

- Yeah.
Why?

- I wanted you to see it first.

It's against every
fucking regulation,

but the others would just
fuck it up before the state

forensic team gets here.

The fuck did he do?

- Blood Eagle.

- What?

- Blood Eagle.

It's a Viking execution.

More like a torture really.

- Looks like a fucking
Christmas angel.

- That would be
consistent to theme.

No note.

No toy, nothing.

The fucker wasn't done here.

- I should dust for prints.

- Don't fucking do that.

Then they'll know
you were here.

Plus, anyone that's
this meticulous

isn't exactly
gonna leave prints.

Do you see those boot marks?

- Yeah.

They're work boots.

I used to have the
same ones when I was

19, working at the abattoir.

Still kept standard.

- Still got 'em?
- No.

And fuck you.

- Hey, who else used
to work with you there?

- Lots of people.

It was the town business once.

- Barry Summers?

- Yeah.

Why?

You think he's a suspect?

- I wouldn't say so.

Barry's not exactly
the creative type.

- Maybe not.

But he sure loved killing.

He was on the death squad,
as we call them.

- What?
- The death squad.

They make the livestock,
the dead stock.

The others always
said that he used

to have this creepy grin every
time he would bolt a cow.

Even gangbang.

- Yeah, why does
that not surprise me?

See there on the forearm?
- Uh-huh.

- From the look
of the bruising,

I'd say she was dead before
he tied her up, thankfully.

- Fuck, I can't--

how the fuck is he that
strong to do all of this?

- Sarah wasn't exactly huge.

He dropped her a few times
trying to get this right, too.

So we're not exactly
looking for Hercules then.

Did you call this in?

- No.

I'm supposed to
be watching you.

- With that door
open, the whole town's

gonna be here from the smell.

So we need to get the
fuck out of here now.

Go.

[foreboding music]

Lola's Corpse
Collection Service,

you rack 'em, we pack 'em.

- Lola, what the fuck
is going on down there?

- Listen, Charlie, I was
gonna call you today,

but there was no time.

- Brutal murders in
the town of Purdan.

How the fuck did you think
I was not going to find out?

- I'm surprised it took you
this long, to be honest.

- News broke minutes ago.

I found out hours ago.

- Seriously?
How?

- Probably because no one gives
a shit what happens out there.

But I only found out because
I know a guy that keeps track

of rural broadcasters
chasing corruption claims,

and he saw the report
of a first killing

on the Purdan News.

He contacted the local
station, but the police

told them not to report
on anything too scary

so they don't cause a panic.

But some AV nerd
told him that they

knew the kids that
found the first body,

and they'd gone to
the media about it.

And now there's a hundred
TV news vans on their way

right now, and so am I.

- No fucking way, Charlie.

Do not bring your ass here.

- Lola, I know you've got your
Nancy Drew ass in the middle

of whatever the fuck is
happening down there,

and there's nothing that
you can say that's gonna

stop me from coming.

- Charlie, it's not
worth it for a scoop.

- This isn't about some story.

This is about me
white knighting

your ass out of that horror
movie you call a town.

- Fine.

- Send me your
sister's address.

And for God's sake,
please keep your head

down and stop snooping.

- Charlie, I need you
to do something for me.

- Lola, stop it.

- It's not like that.

Listen, I could be
in danger either way.

I need you to
contact your friend

and ask them if
they can find out

anything about Sergeant Kelly.

All right?

- Okay, fine.

Shit.

But you have to promise me
to text me every 10 seconds

so I know where you are.

- I will.

Sergeant Kelly,
have you got that?

- Sergeant Kelly,
yeah, I'll remember.

I'll see you in a few hours.

- I love you, Charlie.

- I love you more, and better.

[haunting music]

- I was about to call you.

The state cops are coming in.

All hell is breaking loose.

- Listen, I know.

Was one of Kat's ears
missing from her body

when you found it?

- No, none of them were.

Why?

- Oh, my God.

- What is it?

- You need to find Kit now.

- Kat's sister?
What happened?

- There's a severed ear
on my sister's front porch.

That's what's happened.
And now Kit is missing.

- The sister?

Shit.

- Where are you?

- I'm near the bar,
The Nowhere Club.

- What, why?

- I was actually watching
your sister's house, like I'm

supposed to be doing for once.

But I saw her leave,
so I followed her.

- You didn't see anyone
deliver anything to the house?

- No, but I wasn't there
the whole day, as you know.

- Right.

The other pigs found Sarah?

- Both Banks and Sarge
are there with the ambos.

You know, it's fucking weird.

- What is?

- I was listening on the
radio when the Senior

Constable found the body.

He immediately called
dispatch and told

them to call it in to state, as
we are under obligation to do.

But when Sarge found out that
he'd called the state police,

he started going on about going
over his head as if he were--

- Changing the
line of argument.

- Yeah, exactly.

- The Sergeant has been burying
this from the beginning.

The first two
deaths, that bullshit

about a botched
robbery, he's been

trying to make sure the
state police didn't find out,

and the media.

But why?
- I don't know.

Maybe he didn't want
the town to be overrun

by reporters and detectives.

There's been enough chaos
here in the recent years.

But at the cost
of people's lives?

- He doesn't think of
these victims as people.

Nobody in this town does.

- Hmm.

Then maybe you're right.

Wait.

- What is it?

What's going on?

- Someone's-- I'll
call you back.

- Kent?

Fuck.

[tense music]

[thud]

[cracking, squelching]

- Oi.

- Oh, for fuck's sake, not now.

- Well, look at this, mate.

Faggot's back in town, and
he's telling the fucking pigs

that I killed Julie.

- Babe, I never said that.

- Don't fucking lie to me.

- Yeah, don't
fucking lie to us.

- Barry, Brick, I haven't told
anyone that you killed anyone

because I think you're
both too fucking

stupid to pull off
something as meticulous

as this, especially you.

Because you wouldn't
have two brain

cells to string together
to switch on a fucking

Christmas ornament.

So why don't you get
the fuck out of my way

before anyone else gets
murdered by a real psychopath?

Not two fucking
cowards who could

only murder someone
if they were old

and fucking defenseless.

[suspenseful music]

[car approaches]

- Let's go.
- Lola?

- Let's go.

Go.

- Lola, were they--
- No.

Oh, my God.

Why the fuck aren't you
at Danielle's house?

- Bitch, you knew I was
gonna come looking for you.

- We need to get to
The Nowhere Club now.

- The what?

- The Nowhere Club.

[foreboding music]

What did your friend find?

- A fair bit.

He dug up some stuff
on your Sergeant Kelly.

He's brothers with the mayor,
and both are in some redneck

oligarch farming
family with ties

to conservative groups,
oil companies, you name it.

During the financial
crisis, they bought

up all the farmland in Purdan.

They went and turned it into
some rich arsehole golf resort.

They even bought out the
old meat slaughter place.

- The abattoir?

- Yeah, right.

Look at those fuckers are going
to buy a million cow ghosts.

- They'd probably do anything
to protect that kind of wealth,

including covering up a murder.

No, a murderer.

A murderer in the
family could bring

the whole fucking thing down.

- This is insane.

- No, someone in their
family is insane,

and the cops are
covering it up.

Did he say who else in town
was connected to the Kellys?

- Uh, a few other families,
actually, by marriage.

The Banks family, the
Kents, and Robert's family.

- So everyone else in town.

Wait.

Unless it's--

- Shit, you just had one
of your Sherlock Holmes

brainstorms, didn't you?

- Fuck, yeah, I did.

- Lola, where are
you going now?

- Just inside the bar
there, and I need you to go

to the Historical Society.

It's not far.

I just need you to go
there and break in for me.

- Oh, so I need to break in
and check on something for you?

- Bitch, do you know who
you're fucking talking to?

You know who you're
dating, right?

I bet you still have that
lock pick that I bought

you for your birthday, right?

- Yeah, all right.

- And be on the lookout, okay?

This is the kind of sick
fuck to lay booby traps.

- [scoffs]

Booby traps.

- Charlie, grow the fuck up.

- No, I won't.

[zapping]

[sinister music]

- Jack in the box?

[muffled voices]

- Hello?

[muffled voices]

Hello?

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

Hold on, hold on.

I've got you.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, shit.

Oh, fuck.

Shit.

I'm-- I'm with Lola.

I'm with Lola.
I'm with Lola.

You're good.
You're safe.

You're safe.

You're okay.

Okay, let's get you
out of here.

What the fuck?

[ominous music]

- Lola.

Lola.

Lola!

I showed you my
little girl, Lola.

[muttering]

You did it all.

So I had to come.

I had to.

I had to kill to
bring you here.

Give yourself to me.

And remember all the shit.

Hm?

Close your eyes.

Give yourself to me!

- So what?

Now you're the phantom
of the fucking opera?

Spring-Heeled Jack?

- Spring-Heeled Jack.

- I always appreciate a
history buff among us.

Jack in the box?

- Do you have any
enemies, any stalkers?

- You're the closest thing
this town's got to a celebrity.

- Podcast evidence.

- Not very inventive, Dave.

- Dave is dead.

Okay?

- You wish.

- Dave is dead!

Okay?

- The Toymaker
didn't get you, Dave.

They did.

Barry, Jim, the
whole fucking family.

I know what it feels
like when the people

who are supposed to love you,
reject you for who you are,

Dave.
- Shut up!

Shut up!

- So when Barry killed
old man Beer Ken,

you knew you could
get away with it, too.

The botts? boots?

- I used to have the
same ones when I was

19, working at the abattoir.

- Nice touch.

Hoping that they'd
pin that on Barry?

Not good enough, Dave.

[slam]

I found your porn
collection, Dave.

- If it were up to me, I would
make a museum of the Toymaker

in the house, have the
legend attract tourists.

- That's really dark.

- Any chaser or stalkers?

- In the end, they're
just looking to get it in.

It must have really pissed
you off when that trans

backpacker rejected you.

But we're not all that
easy, are we, Dave?

That must have made you
so fucking mad, mad enough

for murder.

- [grunts]

- My life is very
bad too, Dave.

Every day, every night.

You're hurting innocent people.

- Enough!

- All these people.

[body thudding]

[zaps]

- Hey, look at me.

Hm?

I-- I hate you.

- No, Dave.

You fucking love me.

[thuds]

[techno Christmas music]

[grunting]

- You fucking faggot.

[choking]

- Get off of her!

[thud]

My parents made me
learn Muay Thai,

but I never thought
I'd need it.

- We're a great team.

You know martial arts, and
I used to teach woodshop.

- No, don't hurt him.

We could have been
friends, Dave.

Merry fucking Christmas.

[zapping]

[thud]

[flatulence]

- Did he just shit on my floor?

- Lola?

Lola?

Lola.
Are you okay?

- I'm fine.

I'm fine.

Hey, it's just--
it's just a scratch.

Did you find Kit?
- Yeah, I found her.

I took her straight
to the hospital.

She's hurt and she's
in shock, but she's okay.

- The hell happened to you?

You know what happened here.

Your nephew, the
monster of this town

made, the monster
your family made.

- You're not going anywhere.

- Fuck you, porky.

And one more thing,
evidence that Barry

killed old man
Beer Ken is already

in the hands of a journalist.

So I suggest you start
making some arrests

before the state police do.

- You're gonna pay to
clean up this mess.

You got that?

[clank]

[triumphant music]

[police sirens wailing]

["auld lang syne" playing]

- Then we were stuck in
town for another week or so,

getting questioned
by the state police.

It felt like forever.

- It must have been hell.

- To be honest, it
really just flew by.

There was a lot to go over.

Last I heard, the perp
was out of hospital

and in some sort of maximum
security institution.

- Well, here's to him
never getting out.

[sinister music]

[screaming]

- Hey, hey.
What's wrong?

It's me.
It's me.

Hold my hand.

Squeeze my hand.

It was a dream.

[sobbing]

- Yeah.

Anyway, with Barry in jail
for killing old man Beer Ken,

it brought down this web of
corrupt families one by one,

totally ruined any
idea that they had

of turning the whole
thing into a resort.

I think another company has
bought it all up now, though.

- Anyway, listeners, if
you want the full story,

"The Toymaker Murders"
by Farrah Stone,

it's her first official
publication through

our new label, Nancy
Crew Publishing,

which is really exciting.

And it's going to be out soon.

So we'll let you know
if she's doing a signing

and where and when, because
it is a fucking crazy read.

- Are you the real Lola?

- Uh-huh.

- Three of my friends
have gone missing,

and I think someone's
following me.

No one's doing
anything about it.

- Hey, it's all right.
Come with us.

Let's see what we can do.

Tell me all about it, okay?

- Here we go.

[music playing]

♪ Toyland, Toyland

♪ Little girl and boy land ♪

♪ While you dwell within it

♪ You are ever happy there ♪

♪ Childhood's joy land ♪

♪ Mystic, merry Toyland

♪ Once you pass its borders ♪

♪ You can never return again

♪ Childhood's joy land

♪ Mystic, merry Toyland ♪

♪ Once you pass its borders

♪ You can never return again

♪ Once you pass its borders ♪

♪ You can never return again ♪