All language subtitles for Pushing.Daisies.S01E03.The.Fun.In.Funeral.HR-HDTV.eng

Charlotte was a nice girl.

What if you didn't have to be dead?

Nobody can know.

You touch murder victims,
you ask who killed them.

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

and you collect the reward?

That's it in a nutshell.

Who's the funny girl stuck to Ned?

- Childhood sweetheart.
- Do they touch much?

Wish they would.

What's she doing here?
Dead girl's got to go.

Dead girl's not going anywhere.

We haven't seen each other in 20 years.
Don't you want to know about me?

- I want to know everything about you.
- We all have secrets.

Season 1 Episode 3
"The Fun in Funeral"

www.All-about-Subs.fr

At this very moment,
young Ned was 9 years,

34 weeks, 12 hours,
and 54 minutes old.

He was a gifted boy...

Not academically, nor athleticly.

He was gifted,
in a way no other boy was gifted.

Young Ned could touch dead things
and bring them back to life.

But if he touched the dead thing twice,
it died again...

Forever.

The consequence
of not touching a dead thing twice

was as cruel as any consequence,

and that was...

something else had to die.

Young Ned rationalized
this consequence was beyond his control.

He was not to blame.

But to remain blameless,

he had to understand.

He realized to give life,

he had to take it.

Death however,
had a grace period.

What young Ned did not know
was how long that grace period was.

One minute.

Fearing the consequences of his actions,
Ned vowed to never,

ever again bring a dead
back to life for more than a minute...

Until he did it again.

The expression "pie in the sky"

entered popular culture in 1911.

It refers to a dessert so sweet,
it can only be found in heaven.

If you're craving something
before you die,

I recommend where the pie maker
makes his pies.

But if you're like Chuck,

you may enjoy the pie
even after you die.

Her 60 seconds came and went.

She stayed alive,

and instead,
someone else had to die.

He kept Chuck blissfully
unaware of this fact.

She was alive again.

That was that.

Which birthday do I celebrate?
I've got two of them now...

The first day I was alive,
the first day I was alive again.

One that requires less explanation.

You remember my 8th birthday,
right before my dad died?

You remember what you got me?

A t-shirt.

With a beaver on it.

He had little
lipstick kisses on his cheek,

and he was holding a sign saying,

"Be kind to animals. Kiss a beaver."

I suppose I should be celebrating
every minute now, shouldn't I?

I could be anybody now,
anybody I want. I like that idea.

l'm gonna give that some thought.

The pie maker liked that idea as well,

as long as her thoughts didn't fall on.

Why is it only a minute?

- A minute seems awfully arbitrary.
- A minute's a long time.

A lot can happen in a minute.

Besides, the longer someone's around
and that's not supposed to,

the more likely it is
that something will happen...

Not necessarily directly
or by any fault of theirs,

but, you know,
butterfly wings and such.

- What about 'em?
- They cause hurricanes.

Oh, right. Am I a hurricane?

A little bit, but I...

I like the weather.

You really shouldn't do that.

Chuck wasn't the only storm
brewing in the pie hole that evening.

An innocuous low-pressure system

was forming that would soon
become hurricane Olive.

Watching the pie maker kiss
the woman that wasn't her,

Olive stopped breathing.

It was as if all
the oxygen had left the room.

Espresso, please.

We have coffee.

- You have an espresso machine.
- It's broken.

Sits there being pretty,
but nobody touches it.

Decaf or regular?

- No flavors. Hazelnut, french vanilla?
- Why can't sugar be enough?

Here's your sugar.

Oh, I forgot to breathe.

Ever feel like all
the oxygen left the room?

Oh, my, yes.

In that moment, Alfredo Aldarisio

recognized a kindred spirit
in Olive Snook.

He also lived in constant fear
of the oxygen leaving the room,

but his pathology ran much,
much deeper.

He was haunted by the notion that,
at any moment,

the Earth could lose its atmosphere,

and he would be sucked
into the vacuum of space.

Excuse me.

A traveling salesman by trade,

Mr. Aldarisio sells
pharmaceutical alternatives,

which he also uses
to manage his condition.

Medicinal.

You're not wrong
about the oxygen leaving the room.

The planet is losing atmosphere.
It's affecting gravity.

Volumes aren't what they used to be.

They had to adjust the kilogram.

Well, if you ask me, the kilogram
needs to be taken down a peg.

Decaf or regular?

Regular, lots of sugar,

more than enough.

Emerson Cod, private investigator,
made a business of murder,

but before he could
get down to business...

I feel like ice cream.

Musing on the idea
of setting someone on fire

doesn't mean you really
want to set them on fire.

Just thought of it that makes
you happy, but only for a second.

Then you feel bad,
but that second can be a lot fun.

You thinking of setting someone on fire?

I was just speaking
in the figurative.

But figuratively speaking, someone
should set you on fire for throwing

my heart under the bus when
you told me he didn't want me.

- That was the truth bus.
- That wasn't the truth bus.

That was the bitchy crosstown express.

By "bitchy",
you mean "frank and honest"?

If I want frank and honest...

I don't want frank and honest.

I never want frank and honest,
so let's just take it off the docket.

While we're on the subject of frank
and honest, I don't like that girl,

not one bit.

Emerson Cod liked her even less,
so much so,

it warranted a private conversation
with the pie maker,

but not private enough.

- So, somebody died?
- How did they die?

They died mysteriously.

He somebody or she somebody?

He. I told you
I wanted to discuss this in private.

Chuck is private...
Part of my private.

She ain't part of mine.
I don't know her.

So, what's the mysterious part,
the way they died or the circumstances?

Did you find him with a noose
around his neck and you didn't quite

know how it got there, did he drown
in his bed, but the sheets were all dry?

You're obsessed.

Am I?
Do you think dying has made me morbid?

Come on.

- How did the somebody die?
- Said it felt like

life just got up and left him,
like I'm gonna leave you.

You know what it could be?
It could be one of those untraceable

poisons, or a four-stage poison,
when you have to,

like, touch four things before
it actually kills the person.

It could be that.

What did you say it was
besides mysterious?

- I have not yet expressed my opinion.
- Would you care to express it now?

My opinion is,
you need to take a coupon for

for this conversation
and redeem it at another date.

- I want to use my coupon now.
- Redeem it tomorrow.

There's somebody in the county fridge
I need you to talk to...

Um...

In private... My private...

Which doesn't include her,
so she better not come.

I can write a book
on hand moisturizer.

Nobody wants the last thing they've
been touched with to be ashy and dry.

Take a gander.

Smooth.

You got some serious
cracks going on there.

Put those up here.

Hi.

Thought you just came by to say "hello."

- You won't even know I'm here.
- 'Cause you leaving?

- No.
- Come on.

It makes her happy.

You remember
what that happiness looks like.

Redeem your coupon.

Now you're gonna listen to me.

I ain't gonna say another word.

"Future me," though, is going,
"I told you so," up one side of you

and down the other one, but "now me"
is just gonna sit back and watch.

Oh, no.

"Oh, no," what?

The facts were these...

Cunning and corrupt,

Lawrence Schatz
was a funeral director who made a living

off the dead above and beyond
his job description.

2 days, 8 hours,
and 43 minutes before his death,

he was exposed as a grave robber.

I was just prep'ing the body for burial.

Your wife's gorgeous.
How did you guys meet?

But before any legal action
could be taken

and before the spoils
of his grave-robbing could be found,

Lawrence Schatz found himself
in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He was 44 years, 17 months,

10 days, 6 hours,
and 9 minutes old

when he found himself
in close proximity of the pie maker.

But to keep
his sleeping beauty alive

meant that someone else had to die.

What if you didn't have to be dead?

And one minute later,

the pie maker took a life...

And gave it to someone else.

Why are you running away?

Vertigo... Dizzy.
The room started spinning, and I...

I think it's my shoes. They're...

stiff, and they pinch, and I...

I think they're cutting
off my circulation.

That was mean.
That was a very mean thing you did.

Really? 'Cause "future me" is here now
and he's got something to say.

But if you didn't touch him,

hsow're we supposed to find out
who killed him?

Already know who killed him.

So the mysterious
part is how he was killed.

Already know that, too.

Okay, how was he killed,
and who was the killer?

Yeah. Who was the killer?

The pie maker's eye twitched

in anticipation of the lie
he was about to tell,

but, instead,
what he told was the truth.

Me.

What?

You killed someone?

Why did you kill?

- I didn't.
- You didn't. That's why somebody died.

Please stop talking.

You didn't what?

Look, you need a ticket to ride
this ride. If your ticket gets punched,

then you got to take
somebody else's ticket.

- Why are you still talking?
- I'm ripping off the band-aid.

I'm not a ripper, I pull up a corner
at a time, I run it under

warm water, and I pull
it up a little more. It's a process.

Let it rip.

I didn't actively kill.
I'm not an active killer.

I'm not a killer.

You killed someone for me?

It wasn't my fault.

It's a random proximity thing.

There was no choice or decision-making
whatsoever. It just happened.

But you knew it would happen.

I was incapacitated
with not being able to think.

I had one thought in my head and it was
of you and it clogged me up so no other

thoughts could get through, including
the one telling me to touch you again.

So every minute I've been celebrating
wasn't really mine to celebrate.

As Chuck considered the life
she was living that was not her own...

Olive considered
the life she was not living.

- Might I make an observation?
- Compliment or criticism?

A neutral thought, I would say.
It's neither complimentary nor critical.

Neutral thought gives me pause.

Neutral for only this portion
of the conversation,

but I do have complimentary observations
as part of a follow-up discussion,

which I intend to headline with an
offer to repair your espresso machine.

- What's your neutral thought?
- You seem decidedly unhappy.

- I haven't decided that.
- No anxieties, neuroses, pathologies?

Garden variety.
What are you beating at?

I'm beating at happiness.

I've beaten it into submission

and bottled it for convenience.

It's homeopathic.

Meaning it deeply relate to gay people.

"gay" only in that they are bright
and happy.

You never have to worry about the oxygen
leaving the room again.

Don't go bothering
the customers with this.

This is a pie house,
not some herbal crack den.

Chuck, say something.

I can't, for the life of me,
think of anything to say.

I forgot...
It's not even my life, is it?

Not now.

I feel violated.

That was my information.

There's your information,
and then there's my information.

That was our information.

You let a man die on our time,
a man who could have been me.

- It wasn't.
- But it could have been.

That was a business associate of mine.

Who do you think hooked
us up with corpse bride?

But he stole stuff off dead people.

Regardless of how he ran
his own business,

he never interfered
with how I ran mine.

But you, made me
an accomplice to a murder.

Stop saying that.
I didn't murder anyone.

There was no malice
or forethought. Okay, maybe...

accidental, involuntary manslaughter.

You accidentally,
involuntarily let dead girl live?

Well...

Yeah, that's what I thought
you was gonna say.

Lawrence Schatz
was murdered enough for his brother

to hire me to find out who killed him.

Why did you take this case?

You want me to take this case.

I'm making sure nobody else solves it.

Look, I didn't want to go down
this road with you.

I'm sensitive to your experience.
I understand that it's traumatic.

But now I need to chat with Lawrence
Schatz before he goes into the ground...

tomorrow.

I'm not going back there.
It's returning to the scene of a crime.

That's just sloppy.
And by the way, to ask him what?

I want to ask Lawrence what he did with
all those precious family heirlooms.

So you can...

Return it to the families end
help heal the greving?

Yeah, 'cause after the grieving stops,
you have joy,

and with joy comes money,

and Louis Schatz will stop asking
questions about how his brother died.

I'm not touching Lawrence Schatz.
It's too traumatic.

I am fragile on this issue.

- That how it is?
- Yeah.

That's how it is.

Whatever you say...

Killer.

The pie maker rationalized circumstances

beyond his control were responsible
for Lawrence Schatz's death.

He was not to blame.

Rationalizing those rationalizations

to the man he inadvertently killed
was something he'd rather not do.

I want to talk to Lawrence Schatz.

I want you to talk to him, too.

Why would I do that?

So you can apologize,
and I can say "thank you."

As the pie maker found himself back
at the scene of his crime,

Chuck found herself back
where her second life began.

Now, with the understanding
of how it began.

Have you already been here?

- Lawrence Schatz?
- Louis.

Lawrence is dead. Hey, Emerson.

Hey, Louie.

Darling Mermaid Darlings.

Yeah, we just buried their niece,
lonely tourist Charlotte Charles.

You see, they're on tour.

I do. It's so exciting.

Tour was canceled.

They're in a dark place,
some kind of an emotional relapse.

- Have we met before?
- No.

The cause of the Darling Mermaid
Darlings emotional relapse was this...

After losing Chuck,

aunts Lily and Vivian had a better

appreciation
of the preciousness of life.

With luggage packed, bonnets cinched,
and sunscreen vigorously applied,

they were ready at last to start
their long-awaited comeback tour,

but not today.

To their surprise, there was
something waiting in the morning mail,

along side The Thrifty Nickel
and The Penny Saver.

It's from Charlotte.

In that moment,
only for a moment,

aunt Lily forgot Chuck was dead...

Or, at least, dead to her.

Then she remembered.

Poor, poor Charlotte.

And with that,

the Darling Mermaid Darlings
canceled their comeback tour.

I'm having a Martini and going to bed.

You know, Larry died
on the same day

we buried lonely tourist
Charlotte Charles.

We don't often bury a celebrity.

Celebrity.

Burying a celebrity, even
a pseudo-celebrity who's only famous

for how she died, must be a coup
for any funeral home, I'd imagine.

It would be, if it wasn't for Larry's
grave-robbing scandal or his murder.

He's in here.

I got it locked,
so no one can defile his dead body.

- Are you sure he was murdered?
- I've been putting it all together.

Boy, do I have a tale to tell?

And this is the tale Louis Schatz told.

He detailed a series of events

that began when he caught
his brother Lawrence in the act.

I was just prepping the body for burial.

Your wife's gorgeous.
How'd you meet?

Larry.

How could you?

When word of Lawrence's
grave-robbing ways

spread through the sleepy hollow
of coeur d'coeurs,//

there was public outrage.

Bulk hate mail and death threats

by the hundred frightened
the truth out of Lawrence.

According to Louis
he only confessed his sins

to the one person
he knew would forgive him.

I buried it all
where no one could find it.

You have to give everything back.

But I buried it really deep.

Louis insisted what
his brother Lawrence did not confess

was where he had hidden
the spoils of his grave-robbery.

That secret he took to his own grave

when he presumably
died of heart failure.

But as Louis was besieged
by angry families

seeking the return of stolen heirlooms,
he began to wonder...

What if it wasn't heart failure?

What if his brother was murdered?

What if, in the hundreds
of letters addressed to Lawrence Schatz,

threatening his life,
one of them was a promise?

What if his brother was murdered,

and what if his murder was next?

I told Larry it was bad karma.

The whole thing makes me sick...
Just sick.

You know what it's like to live in daily
fear that one minute you could

drop dead right where you're standing
because of something somebody else did?

I feel like I could smoke
a cigar with you.

I don't smoke. That was Larry.

Here. Take it.

He would.

It's true what they say about twins...
His life was my life.

It's strange to share someone's life.

I feel like mine's tainted now.

I would love to give back what he took.

We have a moment to pay our respects,

while you go rustle up
that hate mail to go?

As they stood over the man
who died for one of them

and was killed by the other,

Chuck and the pie maker
carefully planned their words.

Yes?

I'm sorry for what I did.

It was mostly an accident,
but partially on purpose.

However inadvertent,
I am sorry I did it.

That's all.

Hello.

Lonely tourist Charlotte Charles,
are you part of my welcoming committee?

More like a beneficiary, in that I'm
still alive, which is why you're not.

Am I a human sacrifice?

Hey, Emerson.

Hey, Larry. What'd you do with all that
stuff you stole off them dead people?

Why don't you ask Louis
what he did with it?

- Louis said you buried it.
- And you believed him. You met Louis?

Hey, how did I die?
Did somebody kill me?

- Hey, did Louis kill me?
- Nobody killed you, per se.

Y- yes, they did.
It was so that I could live.

It wasn't personal.
I didn't pick you.

Selection is purely random but it didn't
help that you were in the next room.

- Louis has all that stuff you stole?
- We stole...

It was a family business.

Louis has everything but this watch.

My dad gave me a watch just like that.

You were buried with it.
Well, you were supposed to be.

Caught me in the cookie jar.

You stole that off my dead body?

Your dead body wasn't
doing anything with it.

Hey, what are you doing?
Hey! Hey!

It's stuck.

- You better be playing.
- 29 seconds.

Oh, hell, no!

One minute's time
was nearing its end.

Random selection was about to begin.

5 seconds!

Maybe
I should let him have his life back.

Not how it works.

No regifting!

That wasn't cool, you guys.

Look.

That was so sweet of
my aunts to bury it with me.

My dad had it, and then I had it.

Then I suppose he had it,
which really steams me.

You got it back?

Yeah, I did.

It's nice to get things back.

My aunts canceled their tour.

I was really looking forward
to hiding out in the crowd

with a big pair of sunglasses
and a parasol, watching them perform

in their mermaid suits.

He said they were in a dark place.

He said they had some
kind of emotional relapse.

Couldn't we just...

You can't see your aunts.

I'm sorry.

If Chuck could not regift
the life she'd been given,

she at least wanted
to find a way to share

it with her aunts Lily and Vivian.

Anybody dead back
there that shouldn't be?

No.

Sweet.

After Lawrence Schatz
was exposed as a grave robber,

the mailbox at the Schatz brothers
funeral home received

1,867 hate letters,

each one a catalog of heirlooms
feared stolen or lost.

Louis Schatz is a big, fat liar.

And I say "fat" in reference
to his size as a liar,

not as a judgment
of his physical appearance.

I'm not mad at him for lying. If I could
pin my crimes on some...

dead relative.

Especially some guilty dead relative,
I'd certainly consider it.

Sucker played me like
boo-boo the fool...

Hiring me to make him look innocent.

He knew all along where
that dead-people treasure was buried.

It's all right, though.

I'm gonna follow his lying fat ass
until he lead me right to it.

Then I'm gonna take it.

You can't steal dead people's stuff.

I'm not the one who stole it.

I don't condone what they did,
but it's once removed now.

I'm not the pirate...
I'm just looking for treasure.

The pirate metaphor is weak.

It's apt.

I find a dead pirate treasure
at the bottom of the sea,

I take it, doesn't matter whose it was,

if whose it was is dead,
'cause it's mine now.

This... This isn't a doubloon.
This is somebody's something.

Stealing from a pirate
who already stole is still stealing.

- It's not once removed.
- They don't want that something

if they buried it with somebody
who can't use it.

What if Lawrence Schatz
was murdered for this buried treasure?

Well, was gonna be before
you got to him.

Why'd you have to say it like that?

There's a lot of hostility
in these letters.

Do you realize how angry someone
has to be to put pen to paper?

I mean, these people are furious.
Anyone of them could be the killer.

Lawrence Schatz wasn't murdered.

He was accidentally,
involuntarily manslaughtered.

- I appreciate that.
- There ain't no killer.

Be that as it may,
murder was on someone's mind.

As Chuck catalogued
another missing heirloom,

she considered what her aunts had lost
and how it could never be returned.

This is depressing.

Did you say "depressing"?

FDA-approved
pharmaceutical-grade herbology.

Like a bully for your emotions.

Emotions need to be bullied,
or at least groomed.

Indulging depression is like
indulging a horrible, willful child.

You allow it to run roughshod, you find
yourself catering to its every whim.

So, bully it, and bully it good.

Everyone needs to be bullied sometimes.
Do you have any literature?

I have a pamphlet,
if you'd like to read that.

Our herbs for depression contain
proven ingredients in the proper doses,

manufactured with the strictest
of quality control.

"Herbs depression" sounds so much
more civil than "antidepressants."

- And with fewer side effects.
- Can I have these?

I can't just give it to you.

It's a controlled substance.

But I have a sample pack.

Chuck wasn't thinking of herself.

She was thinking of her aunts.

For the life
she was living was not her own

Chuck found a way for her living gift
to be the gift that kept giving.

She took responsibility

for Lily and Vivian's hapiness,

and took action.

Even after she was dead and gone,

Chuck found a way to do
what she had done all her life...

Care for her aunts.

Oh, you forgot one.

Outside my zone.

It's not so far.

Do you want to be a delivery boy
or a delivery man?

Boy. You be a man.

But it's my day off.

And I'm a girl!

In her own way, Olive identified
with the plight of the abandoned pie.

It was meant for someone,
and without a little effort,

it would never be with the one
it was meant to be with.

And tragically for Louis Schatz,

he was meant to be with his brother.

Hey, I didn't he you leave this morning.

I didn't hear you come in last night.

I was having conversations with myself.

What did you guys talk about?

I asked myself,
"if I were storming a castle "

to save a sleeping
beauty from the jaws of death,

and in the melee,
my sword of truth flew swift and sure

and killed an unfortunate
outlaw huddled nearby,

how would I feel?"

Did you successfully rescue
sleeping beauty?

In this scenario, yeah.

And how would you feel, hypothetically?

I'd feel happy and then bad,
and primarily happy, and then

I'd think about it too much,
and then I'd feel bad again.

That's kind of how
I feel/exactly how I feel.

Well, I don't want you to think
I'm a killer.

I don't want to think
you're a killer, either.

I want to think of you
as prince charming.

I'm not setting a standard
for you to leave up to, its just...

That's not good.

Did you...?

No.

No!

As Chuck and the pie maker considered

the dead Schatz brother
in the freezer...

Olive snook considered the consequences

of driving several towns
away to make a delivery

to an address that was not part
of the regular delivery route.

As she drew closer
to the front door,

Olive considered
the sheer number of crimes

against delivery people

and how they were on the rise.

S.O.S.! O.S.! O.S.! S.O.S.!

This pie smells delicious.

Pies for breakfast
always remind me of mother.

Vermouth always reminds me of mother.

Why are we having pie,
and who the hell are you?

Forgive Lily.

The last time had visitors,
there was a home invasion.

That was all over the evening news.

You're Darling Mermaid Darlings
Vivian and Lily Charles.

I saw you perform
at the Callum County Country Fair

when I was a little girl.

Olive is in the pie industry.

Really?

Someone has made you the happy
recipients of a pie from the pie hole,

as in "shut your."

Or, in this case, "open your",
'cause it's real good.

The pie hole... I like it.

It's provocative.

Well, you must love pie
to make it your life's work.

Lots to love at the pie hole.

There's gruy�re baked into the crust.

I didn't even know we did that.

Charlotte loved gruyre.

We recently lost our niece...

lonely tourist Charlotte Charles.

It's all over the news.

I am so sorry for your loss.
I'm sure you're sick of hearing it.

I don't want to beat a sentiment to d...

I'm so sorry for your loss.

This has to be from that young man

who lived next door
when Charlotte was a girl.

He had a filthy mind as a child.

He gave Charlotte a beaver T-shirt

for her 8th birthday.

- What did we call him?
- "Beaver boy."

Beaver boy.

Seems like he grew up
to be a nice young man.

Beaver boy did say
he was a pie maker.

I imagine he gives
lots of people pie.

Beaver boy's a pie maker?

Who was childhood
sweetheart with your niece,

lonely tourist
Charlotte Charles...

who is dead?

Presently?

The truth about the dead girl
who wasn't dead

vibrated on Olive's tongue.

She dare not let it out,
so she took another bite.

Not realizing Louis Schatz
was dead and wedged

between chilling dough
and yesterday's eggs,

Emerson Cod prepared
to monitor every move he made,

in hopes of finding buried treasure.

- Hi... one of the Schatz brothers...
- It's Louis.

Louis is in my freezer,
I'm not sure how he got there,

because it doesn't look like
it was his own doing,

- he's dead and all.
- You being set up.

He said we're being set up.

Why would anyone want to set us up?

No, you being set up.

- Why would anyone want to set me up?
- Hell if I know.

Maybe they figure,
since you killed the other one...

Have I been exposed?
Does somebody know?

Somebody knows something,

and that somebody
probably already called the police.

Hey...

the police are here.

Hi. You need to follow us.

- Where're we going?
- You're going to heaven.

I got in?

Yeah and heaven's
closing in like five minutes.

- Or one, actually.
- Heaven's closing in like one minute.

Hey, Emerson, you going to heaven, too?

Yeah, we all going to heaven.

That's so weird.
We died at the same time.

- The rapture.
- No way.

Yes way.

Is Larry here?

Yeah, he told us to ask you

what you did with all that stuff
you stole off those dead folks.

Yeah, but first, you got
to tell us who killed you.

- Heaven would want know.
- I choked on a piece of tongue.

Yours or somebody else's?

In this instance,
the tongue belonged to a cow.

Although Louis Schatz
had been limiting his portions,

they weren't so small
they couldn't block his windpipe

when he was confronted
by an angry customer.

He said something
about a civil war heirloom.

Then I lost consciousness.

I usually cough it up
before I pass out.

- 5 seconds.
- There's no seat belts in this car.

Wait!

What did you do with all that stuff
you stole off those dead... Folk?

Sorry.

What are we gonna do with the body?

We're gonna put Schatz back
exactly where he died

and show whoever this sucker
was who tried to frame you

how a sucker gets framed.

- We don't know who this sucker is.
- Yes, we do...

Wilfred Woodruff.

In Chuck's cataloging of heirlooms

feared stolen by professionals,

she came across
a particularly angry death threat

written by one Wilfred Woodruff.

Mr. Woodruff claimed
a civil war heirloom,

supposedly buried with his grandfather,

was offered in an online auction,
which was traced back

to the brothers Schatz.

Mr. Woodruff clearly stated in writing

that punishment for insulting
the Woodruff family honor

in such a way...

was death.

It's all locked up.

What?

- I ain't gonna fit.
- You'll fit.

There's plenty of room.

The window looked bigger from up there.

Are you stuck?

No.

Yes, you are.
You're like winnie-the-pooh.

Give me your paws, pooh.

You people stop pulling me!

This isn't good at all.

What part of "do not resuscite"
don't you people understand?

Honey, did you turn off the gas?

Wilfred Woodruff?

The pie maker considered
the choices he made

that brought him
to this very moment,

a moment that may be his last.

The irony of being struck down
by the man who murdered

the twin of the man he killed
was not lost on the pie maker.

Also not lost... His agility.

Oh, my god!

What's going on in there?!

Wilfred Woodruff found his sword!

I propose to fight it out
on this line if it takes all summer.

What line? It's autumn.

Ulysses S. Grant said that...

Not all of it, just the last part.
Bad-luck missionary ridge...

My great-great-great-great-grandpappy

fought proudly
against him with this sword.

Are you adopted?

Wilfred Woodruff was not adopted.

On a hot day
in the summer of 1863,

Wilfred Woodruff's
great-great-great-great-grandfather,

Phan Bing Wu, was laying track
for the Central Pacific Railroad.

The decision was made
to find a better life.

As the civil war was still raging,
the other men chose to go northwest.

Why Phan Bing Wu chose
to run southeast is not known.

Some said it was the hand of destiny.

Others felt it was heatstroke.

Eventually, Phan Bing
was forced to steal

the clothes off a former soldier.

Returning to his journey,
he soon realized he was not alone.

Phan Bing immediately realized

he did not belong
in this place at this time.

But this time and place seemed
more than happy to have him.

Decorated for his bravery
in the battle of missionary ridge

and the second battle of Murfreesboro,

Phan Bing went on
to found his own branch of...

the Woodruff family tree.

This sword was supposed
to be buried with my grandpa.

Instead, it shows up
in some online auction,

at which... I take umbrage!

Remember, mind over
matter makes pooh unfatter.

I might be stuck...

but I can still reach my gun.

Now you should know

that I was thrice named
alternate swordmaster

at the southern area regional volunteer
infantry re-enactment regiment.

I wanted to be a Jedi.

You killed Louis Schatz
and stuffed him in my freezer.

I put food in there!

It wasn't my fault,
it just happened.

Not like you killed
Lawrence Schatz.

Did not!

- I saw you.
- You didn't see squat.

Wilfred Woodruff saw more than squat

when he approached Lawrence Schatz

about his great-great-
great-great-grandfather's sword.

He saw the pie maker fleeing
the scene of Lawrence Schatz's murder.

I didn't touch Lawrence Schatz,

not 'till after he died,
and in his coffin.

I didn't touch Louis Schatz,

not until after he died
and I rolled him onto a dolly truck.

- All because you wrote a nasty letter?
- I wrote a death threat.

Then someone died.

That has a way
of coming back to haunt you.

Unless you frame someone
for murder, you ass!

I had no choice.

Of course you did.
Everything we do is a choice.

Oatmeal or cereal, highway
or side streets, kiss her or keep her?

We make choices,
and we live with the consequences.

If someone gets hurt along the way,

we ask for forgiveness.
It's the best anyone can do.

I can do better!

Ned?

Help! Kick, pooh, kick!

At that very moment,

Chuck saw the pie maker,

perhaps not as he really was...

but as he would always appear to her...

her prince charming.

Olive Snook's blood

stirred with revelation
and opportunity.

She could see Chuck had faked
her death for some nefarious purpose.

I can smell trouble on her

like she stepped in it
and it's stuck to her heel.

What she couldn't see

was the distant glimmer
of her own prince charming.

The broken espresso machine,

sitting there, being pretty,
with no one to touch it,

had been touched...

filled with water,
and packed with coffee grounds.

For the time being,
the romantic gesture was lost on Olive.

Her espresso was much too bitter,

but this would not be her last cup.

Not bitter at all was Emerson Cod.

He learned a lesson
from the brothers Schatz.

It wasn't what he had gained,

it was what he wanted to lose.

he didn't want
to lead the life they led...

Not to say he no longer wanted
to make a living off the dead.

He made a decision

while wedged in the window
that day never to be wedged again.

At that same moment,

Lily and Vivian Charles were enjoying
a wedge of happiness

with gruy�re baked into the crust.

Woodruff was charged today
for his involvement

in the death of Louis Schatz...

A key player
in the grave-robbing scandal.

The gift of life Chuck
had been given was, indeed,

the gift that kept giving.

She went about matching
hate mail with heirlooms

and regifting them
to their rightful heirs,

like she had been regifted
to the pie maker.

I would do it again.

I think it's nice the way it is.

No.

I made a choice,
and I would do it again.

I...

let Lawrence Schatz die,

and if I was faced with
that choice right now,

I'd make the same choice.

You could put me in a loop,
I'd make the same choice every time.

That's how confident I am that it was
the right choice for me to make.

I'm sorry if that makes me
a bad person, but...

I'm not sorry that you're alive.

I like that you made that choice,

and the fact
that you did it on purpose...

Well, it makes it far more fun
than if you did it by accident.

I'm gonna see
if I've got some plastic wrap.

Capture: swsub.com

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www.All-about-Subs.fr