Original subtitles

- Good morning, Father. - Good morning, my dear.

- Oh, careful. - Eh?

Oh, I'm sorry. You should know better than to barge in here when I'm busy.

- Busy? - Now, none of that.

When I'm on holiday this is what keeps me busy.

- Mail, Father. - I don't want to read it.

- There's a letter from Cornwall. - I don't know anyone in Cornwall.

Yes, you do. Peter Tompson. I'll open it.

Oh, Peter. What's he doing down there?

Oh, Father, you're impossible. You know he's got a job down there.

He's General Practitioner.

So he did. What's he up to, then?

Well, why don't you read it and find out?

- No, you read it. - All right.

Ah... ah... ah... ah!

"Dear Sir James..."

A typical doctor's handwriting. it's worse than yours, Father.

Oh, here. Give it to me.

Hm. "Just a brief line to inform you...

"For some time our village has been...

"beset by a number of mysterious and fatal maladies.

"People have been dying off...

�Lassitude, no will to live...�

Well, this doesn't sound like Peter. it's very rambling.

I wonder what's it's all about.

Well, we could easily find out.

"l desperately need your advice. Symptoms can't be attributed to..."

- Find out? How? - By going to Cornwall and asking him.

Go to Cornwall? it's miles away.

Well, you can fish just as well in Cornwall as here, Father.

Didn't your school friend...

What's her name? Didn't she marry young Tompson?

- Alice? Mm. - Ha.

I suppose your suggestion that we should go to Cornwall

has nothing to do with the fact that you'd like to see her again, eh?

Shall I pack your things?

I don't know why I give in to you so easily.

And look up the train times.

I don't know why I put up with you at all.

- I should have drowned you at birth. - Thank you, Father.

I knew you'd understand.

- Come on, then. Come on, then. - Whoo!

Oh, look, Father!

Look! A fox!

I've seen a fox. Several of them, in fact.

I've no doubt your fox looks very similar to all the others.

Oh, they're hunting him!

Father, those men are hunting that fox.

Men have always hunted.

For food, yes. Not for blood lust.

Well, can't you do something, Father?

I have not come all this way to interfere with local customs

and antagonise the people just to satisfy your sensitivity

about the welfare of wild animals.

Father, you must agree that...

Just because you are my daughter doesn't mean I have to agree to...

Whoa, there!

Now what's happened?

- You, have you seen him? - Who, sir?

- The fox, you idiot! - No, I haven't, young sir.

I've been keeping my eyes on the road.

Idiot!

Is it a fox you're looking for?

Well, my dear young lady, that was the idea.

I saw him. He was running that way.

You'll have to hurry to catch him. He was running fast.

We'll catch him. Never fear. Come on.

I have a distinct feeling you were not telling that young man the truth, Sylvia.

Your distinct feeling is correct, Father.

Oh. Well, the fox will be grateful.

I doubt if the same can be said for the young man.

I only hope you don't meet him again.

- What is it, Sylvia? - A funeral.

Come on!

Come on then. Whoa!

Oh!

What the devil do you think you're doing?

So the fox went that way, did it?

You'd better stay out of my sight, young lady!

How horrible. They should be reported.

I expect they will be, my dear.

And no doubt those your ruffians will say it was an accident.

- Is there anything we can do, Vicar? - Yeah, you can keep away from us.

Please, it was not our fault!

Leave us alone!

- But surely... - I said leave us alone!

I know it wasn't your fault, my dear.

That was the poor lad's brother in the coffin.

The Lord is punishing us for our sins.

Whoa!

Oh, put the bags down there, please, Coachman.

I'm sorry. The doctor isn't in.

- Alice? - Who is it?

Alice, don't you remember me?

- Sylvia? - Yes!

Oh, Sir James.

What a wonderful surprise. Why didn't you let me know?

Well, come in. Do come in.

Thank you.

- When did you arrive? - We got here about half an hour ago.

Well, it�s nice seeing you again Mrs Tompson.

- Oh, Father, call her Alice. - Yes, please do.

Very well, Alice.

Hello, what's this?

It's nothing. it's just a cut.

- Well, I hope you're taking care of it. - Oh, don't fuss so much.

Well, you can't be too careful about these things.

Would you like me to have a look at it?

It's all right. My husband is a doctor.

Ah, yes. So they tell me.

- He is a very good doctor. - Father is only joking, Alice.

Peter was his favourite pupil, remember?

- Now, let me have a good look at you. - No!

No, please don�t. I...

I look so untidy

Well, I don't know about that,

but you don't look too well to me.

- Are you eating enough? - Oh, Father, really!

Don't take any notice of him, Alice.

Oh, why didn't you let me know you were coming?

I'm so sorry. You must think me very inhospitable.

No, not at all, my dear.

If it's inconvenient we can always stay at the inn.

Oh, no. I wouldn't dream of it. Of course you'll stay here.

It's just that I...

Well, the house isn't very clean.

Can I get you something? Some tea?

We'd both love some. Come on.

Kettle won't be a moment.

Hm. I suppose there isn't anything stronger, is there?

Well, I'll ask, but I don't expect...

Oh, don't worry. I'll slip out later.

Well, where's that husband of yours? Out on his rounds?

Yes, I expect so.

- Plenty of patients? - Not as many as we'd like.

Oh, really?

There's been a lot of trouble.

What sort of trouble?

Oh, I...

I expect Peter would rather tell you about it himself.

I'll see to the kettle. Excuse me.

You go and have a gossip about your old school days.

I'll slip into the village and see what I can find out.

All right, Father. Don't be long.

- Charlie. - Aye, aye.

Will you have a drink with me, Martinus?

Thank you, but I'll buy my own.

Beer, Tom.

I... I did my best for him.

I'm sorry.

- Wasn't good enough, was it? - Apparently not.

What do you think it were, Doctor?

- That killed him? - Aye, that killed him.

What was it that killed them all?

I don't know.

You don't know.

And you call yourself a doctor?

You won't let me find out. If you let me carry out one post mortem.

It's no good cutting him up after he's dead. It's too late.

- You're being ridiculous - Ridiculous is it?

There's my brother lying dead out there.

And twelve others like him. Twelve.

How long have you been with us, Doctor?

Twelve months, isn't it? That's one a month.

- Steady, Tom - One a month.

Not a very good record, is it?

Are you trying to say no one died before I came here?

At least we knew what they died from.

And if I was to tell you they died from swamp fever or the plague

or some other nonsense, would that make you happier?

- Yes, if it were the truth. - Well, it wouldn't be the truth.

I'm not going to start telling a lot of ridiculous lies

just to keep you people satisfied.

It's not good enough.

Oh, so we are not good enough for you now?

- I didn't say that. - it's what you meant, though.

Well, let me tell you something, Doctor.

You're not good enough for us.

Do you understand me? You're not good enough!

- Ah, Doctor, there you are. - Sir James!

- Good afternoon, gentlemen. - Good afternoon.

We've met before in rather distressing circumstances.

May I now introduce myself?

Sir James Forbes, Professor of Medicine at London University.

And this young man was my cleverest and most able pupil.

I hope you realise how lucky you are to have him here.

Landlord, see these gentlemen have a drink with me, will you?

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

Come on, Peter, are you ready?

- Good afternoon, gentlemen. - Good afternoon.

- Sir James, what are you doing here? - You've lost weight, my boy.

- Alice not feeding you properly? - Yes, but...

- Aren't you glad to see me? - You've no idea.

- Why have you come? - You wrote to me.

It's very kind of you to come all this way, sir.

I've just seen Alice. She's not looking well.

Poor Alice. I'm afraid she needs a holiday badly.

- You both do, by the look of you. - Can't manage one at the moment, sir.

- You've no idea what it's been like. - Well, we'll talk about it later,

without any of this hocus pocus you put in your letter.

Ah!

That was an excellent meal.

You girls are to be congratulated, eh, Peter?

Oh, yes, Sir James. Indeed.

Still, what I always say is, cooking is a science and not an art.

If you get it right once

there's no earthly reason why you shouldn't get it right every time.

Now, you girls run along to bed. Peter and I will do the dishes

- But, Father, you can't... - But Father, nothing.

You've had a long day and I'm sure Alice is tired.

Yes, I am tired, it's true.

Good night, Peter. Father.

Good night, my dear.

It's so nice to see you again, Sir James.

Thank you, my dear. it's nice to see you, too.

For you, Sir James?

No, thank you.

That's not the answer, you know, Peter.

I know.

I wish I knew the answer.

First of all, we have to decide what the question is, don't we?

This disease seems to be more mental than physical.

Yes, but you were a little obscure, Peter.

You said there was no attributable cause for this mental affliction.

I'd like to Know a little more about the symptoms.

- What about appetite? - The patient show a loss of appetite.

Skin colour?

In every case a loss of skin colour, too.

- Reflexes? - Retarding

Hm, like someone in need of a holiday in fact, eh?

- You don't mean Alice, surely? - Now, now, now.

Don't let's jump to any conclusions.

- What did the autopsies show? - I didn't make any.

You didn't make any? What's come over you?

It is not permitted to make any.

- Well, who stopped you? - The villagers.

They don't want the bodies of their love ones cut about.

What about the coroner? Surely he supported your applications?

- There isn't one. - No coroner?

This isn't London, sir.

This is a Cornish village, inhabited by simple country people

riddled with superstition and all dominated by a Squire.

He acts as coroner and magistrate, judge and jury.

And who is this jack of all trades?

Hamilton, sir. Squire Hamilton.

Master?

Tonight. Tell the others.

They are not back from the chase, Master.

Tell them to prepare just as soon as they return.

I do hope you meet him, Sylvia. He's such a charming man.

- Is he now? - And so handsome.

- And rich. - And unattached?

Yes. Yes, he is, as a matter of fact.

You're not trying to marry me off by any chance?

Well, you could do a great deal worse.

He's got a lovely house and a lot of money.

And what does Peter think?

He doesn't like him.

He thinks he's arrogant and overbearing.

But he's wrong. He is wrong.

- Good night. - Alice.

You're trying to tell me something else, aren't you?

No!

No, I'm not, but I...

- I must go. - What did you say his name was again?

Clive Hamilton.

Goodnight, Sylvia.

I'm sorry.

Don't apologise to me, dear boy. It's your Crockery.

Here, you'd better let me do the drying.

- I really do need a drink. - Rubbish.

What you need is an end to your worries.

So far we've nothing to start on, nothing to help us at all.

I know.

We must have a body to examine. We can't possibly work without one.

If you�re thinking of applying for an exhumation...

Apply for nothing. We'll dig one up.

- We'll what? - Dig one up.

That lad they buried today will do. Nice and fresh.

Then we might learn something.

- But we can�t just go out and start... - We�ll do it tonight.

There's a full moon. Couldn't be better.

We'll start off about midnight.

Alice.

Alice!

Alice?

Is that you Alice? Aah!

Wait a minute. I know you.

I know you!

Come on.

Oh!

Oh!

Ah.

Oh, oh.

Go away!

Oh, no. No!

Hey, Tom. Get her off!

Oh, let me go!

Leave me alone. Oh, oh!

- Come on. - Let go!

Let me go! Let me go!

- Catch. - Catch.

Oh!

What's it to be, lads? Aces high?

Aces high.

Cut.

Ten of spades, four of diamonds, Jack of clubs

Jack of hearts.

Let her go.

King of hearts.

Very appropriate.

Don't... Don't touch me.

- Don't you dare touch me. - Come on, little fox.

Go to ground.

Leave her alone!

Get out of my sight, the lot of you.

Get out!

Get out!

Miss Forbes...

I know that it is useless to ask you to forgive my friends.

Such behaviour is beneath contempt and beyond forgiveness.

I only ask that you accept my solemn word

that I knew nothing of what was going on.

How do you know my name?

The arrival in as small a village as this

of a beautiful young lady and her distinguished father

could scarcely go unnoticed, Miss Forbes.

My name is Hamilton, Clive Hamilton.

Will you kindly take me home, Mr Hamilton?

I fear you have not forgiven me yet.

Your fears are well founded, Mr Hamilton. I have not.

Now, will you take me home or do I have to walk?

Is there nothing I can do to persuade you of my personal innocence?

Nothing. I take it, then, I have to walk?

My carriage is at your disposal.

Unfortunately, I can't leave at this moment

but I shall instruct one of my young guests...

- Thank you. I prefer to walk. - Miss Forbes, you can't walk.

You might be attacked, Miss Forbes.

I've already been attacked.

And it was here in your house.

Now, please open the door.

Thank you.

And tomorrow I shall go straight to the police.

- Please don't do that, Miss Forbes. - Why shouldn't I?

I am the Squire of this little community

and responsible for the welfare of everyone in it.

Should any scandal attach to my name,

the effect could be disastrous for all these people.

I can't expect you to understand why that should be.

I just ask that you believe it.

And what about those...

...your charming young guests?

Will you leave me to punish them in the way I think most fit?

I promise they'll suffer for what they've done.

Or would have done.

If it hadn't been for you.

Yes, that's true, I suppose.

Very well, Mr Hamilton.

I won't go to the police.

- This time. - Thank you.

Are you sure you can find the way?

Thank you, Mr Hamilton. Good night.

Please take great care not to stray from the path.

There are tin mines under this land.The ground sometimes subsides.

Denver!

Everything is ready, Master.

. Ah.

Alice.

Alice!

Good evening, Officer.

You just step up here a moment, gentlemen, please.

I... I realise this looks...

it's a serious charge you'll be on in the morning.

What charge?

Who might this gentleman be?

Sir James Forbes.

- Good evening, sir. - Good evening.

What are you going to charge us with?

Body snatching I should think, sir.

I see.

Well, in that case I suppose...

you don't mind if we have a quick look.

I don't care who you are, sir!

Well.

What's going on, sir?

I don't know, Sergeant, any more than you do.

Now, look, Sergeant, I need your help.

My help, sir?

Say nothing of what you've seen here tonight.

Now look, Sergeant, it doesn't need me to tell you

there's something very wrong in this village.

All these young men dying and now this.

Well, some people say it is the marsh fever, sir.

Oh, marsh fiddlesticks.

In any case, it couldn't cause a body to disappear into thin air, could it?

- No, sir. - Well, then, will you help me or not?

I'd like to help you, sir. Really I would.

My boy was one of the first to go, sir.

Well, then, help me for his sake.

Very well, sir. I'll withhold my report for 48 hours.

I dare not do more than that.

Thank you, Sergeant.

You won't regret it. I'm sure of that.

What are we going to do about this, sir?

We'll fill it in, make it look as if it's never been touched.

We can manage this on our own, Sir James.

Why don't you wait inside where it's warm.

Thank you, Peter. Yes, I will.

- Good night, Sergeant - Good night, sir.

Right-ho, let's get on with it.

Sylvia?

Have you seen Alice? She's not in her room.

Come in, Peter, and sit down.

- Sit? - Please sit down.

I have some shocking news for you Peter.

- What is it? - Alice.

Then she was ill.

- I must go tell her. - Wait.

- I have to see her. - She's not here.

- Where is she? - Control yourself, Peter.

She's not here. Now, listen to me.

She's outside somewhere, on the moors.

She's dead.

No.

Sylvia found her.

No.

No.

Oh, God.

Forgive me.

I killed her.

- That�s not true. You know it isn�t. - Yes, it�s my fault.

- I should have known. - That's nonsense, Peter.

If she's been struck by this disease, it's no fault of yours.

Take me to her, wherever she is.

Yes, I will, Peter. I will.

But there's one thing we have to do.

We must find out about the disease, find out what it is and destroy it.

You will have to let me perform an autopsy.

- God. - We have to, Peter.

And I shall need your help.

- I'm ready, Father. - Yes, very well.

We'll ask the sergeant to come with us.

- Hey, Martinus. - Heh?

Come on, wake up! Come on, let's have a word with you.

No!

Extraordinary.

- No sign of rigor mortis. - Hm.

When did she do this?

- Some days ago. - How?

Piece of glass, I think. She was rather secretive about it.

- Oh? - It was a clean wound.

Well?

It's not human.

- it's not human blood. - Exactly.

She's been splashed with the blood of some animal.

Do you think she might have been attacked?

By an animal?

There are no external signs of violence. None at all.

Then how did she die?

That's what we are trying to find out, Peter.

How did she die?

Stop it! I can't stand any more.

It's not a matter of what you can or can't stand, my lad.

- it's the truth that matters, the truth. - I'm telling you the truth.

- Look, Jack. - Sergeant.

Sergeant. Look, I was up there.

You saw me so it's no use my denying it.

And she... And the body was found right by me, all right.

But I didn't kill her. I didn�t kill her!

So you say, but you was drunk.

And so I'll go on saying, because it's the truth.

All right.

What was you doing up there, anyway?

I told you. I'd just had a skinful. I don't know why I went up there.

Just to get away from everything.

Are you sure you didn't see her?

- And follow her into the woods? - No!

You'd had a row with her husband. There's plenty who'll swear to that.

Now, I put it to you that you wanted your revenge.

- So you saw her and followed her... - No, I tell you, no!

- Is that the truth? - Yeah, it is.

I'm sure of that, at least.

What do you mean by that, "at least"'?

What do you mean by it?

You wouldn't believe me, anyway.

You leave that to me to decide.

You saw something else up there, didn't you?

What was it? What was it?

My brother.

- You saw your... - My brother, yes. The one that's dead!

The one that's buried out there.

I saw him just as clear as I see you now.

All grey, his eyes staring.

I saw him.

And yet I know he's out there, lying in his coffin.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Peter, you'd better go up and get some rest.

You've been on your feet for 24 hours.

I can't rest. I'll just go and make all the arrangements for the funeral.

Yes?

- Excuse me, sir. - What is it, Sergeant?

The front door was open so I took the liberty...

Well, what is it?

- it's young Martinus, sir. - What about him?

You should have a word with him.

Oh, very well.

I did see him, sir. I swear it.

Everything I told the sergeant is the truth.

I'm telling you, sir.

I did see him, sir. I saw my brother.

Your brother is dead and buried.

I know that, sir. Didn't I bury him myself?

But I saw him in his shroud.

- Standing, staring at me. - How could you see him?

God only knows, sir. But I saw him.

God only knows, indeed.

That's all, Sergeant.

You don't believe me, do you, sir?

On the contrary, I believe everything you say.

Well, are you satisfied now, Sergeant?

No.

- You just heard the gentleman say... - I know what the gentleman said.

But I'm the law here.

And I'm responsible for you until I have made further investigations.

Put him in the cell, Constable.

Father.

Feeling better, my dear?

Feeling well enough to talk?

Now, when you told me about Alice, you said there was a man with her.

Did you recognise him?

No.

You remember the young man we saw

who was following the funeral procession,

the one who shouted at us to go away?

Yes.

- He's been arrested. - But it wasn't him.

But you said you didn't recognise the man.

Is it possible that the man you saw

was the man in the coffin?

It was, wasn't it?

But how?

Never mind how, my dear.

Just one more question and then you can rest.

When we found Alice

was she in the same place where you saw her with this man?

No, no she wasn't.

It was up by some old mine works. I don't Know exactly where.

Well, I'll try to find them. You go back to sleep.

No, I'll be getting up in a few minutes. Thank you, Father.

Very well.

Ah, Peter.

- How is she? - Oh, very much better.

She's talking of getting up.

Well, I feel like a stroll. Care to join me?

Yes.

I want a word with the sergeant so we'll call in on the way.

Where are we going, sir?

Up on the moors.

A breath of air will do us both good.

I didn't know this place even existed.

What did they mine here?

- Tin, sir. - Tin?

Yes, there's a rich vein runs under here sir, worth a fortune.

Then why has it been allowed to fall into decay like this?

There was a lot of accidents, sir.

Miners killed and maimed.

They wouldn't go down there. They said it was unlucky.

Old Squire was furious, but he had to shut it down.

Has young Hamilton tried to reopen it?

Oh, no, sir, but then he don't need the money.

- Where does he get his money from? - I can't rightly say, sir.

He was away when his father died in foreign parts.

The old squire left him the house and a lot of unpaid bills.

When young Squire come back here,

he shut himself up there, wouldn't see nobody.

Then suddenly he had a lot of young people down staying there

and spending money like water.

It's creepy.

- They do say, sir, that it's... - What do they say, Sergeant?

- That it's haunted? - Well, how did you know that, sir?

It doesn't take much guessing, does it?

Come on, Peter, we mustn't leave Sylvia alone too long.

Thank you, Sergeant.

- May I come in? - Please.

Thank you.

What can I do for you?

At our last meeting you made it abundantly clear

that my attentions would not be welcomed,

that you would as soon never see me again.

I appreciate your feelings and the reason for them.

I wouldn't dream of imposing myself on you, only...

Only I felt I had to come and tell you how terribly sorry I was

to hear the news of your friend, Alice Tompson.

I knew her, you know, not very well

but enough to realise what a very fine lady she was.

Please accept my sincere condolences.

Thank you, but would they not be better given to her husband?

I fear they would not be accepted, Miss Forbes.

- Oh? - Doctor Tompson doesn't like me.

You are not alone in your opinion of me.

I can't imagine that the opinion of others affects you very much.

Oh, I should like to be popular, of course.

I should be lying if I said otherwise.

But I realised long ago that in order to be popular one must conform.

I find that too big a price to pay.

Conform?

Well, to the standards of conduct dictated by convention.

I have my own standards. I conform to them.

At least you are honest, Mr Hamilton.

Probably my only virtue.

I'm always honest, even with myself.

I wonder how many people can truthfully admit to that.

Not many, I agree.

I am becoming a bore. I have taken up enough of your time.

Oh, I wonder,

could I impose on you for a glass of water?

Oh, yes of course. Unless you prefer sherry?

Please, I don't want to put you to any trouble.

It's no trouble.

Do you believe in life after death, Miss Forbes?

- That's an odd question. - Odd?

To ask a stranger.

I was hoping that you no longer considered me a stranger.

Very well. Yes, I do believe in life after death.

Do you?

I'm sure of it, Miss Forbes.

I'm sorry.

- Here, let me... - Oh!

How clumsy of me. I'm so sorry.

It's nothing, really.

This should prevent the risk of any infection.

You must think me a clumsy idiot.

I really do apologise.

One cannot be too careful.

There. Is that better?

- Thank you. - A safety pin should hold it.

I have one in my bag.

Allow me.

May I say that I consider you to be a very brave young lady.

Because of this?

Because of everything, Miss Forbes.

I'll see myself out.

it's the Master. Open.

Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live

and is full of misery.

He cometh up and he is cut down like a flower.

He fleeth, as it were, a shadow and never continueth in one stay.

In the midst of life we are in death.

Yet, O Lord God most holy,

O Lord God most mighty,

O holy and most merciful Saviour,

deliver us not into the bitter pains of eternal death.

O holy and merciful Saviour,

Thou most worthy judge eternal,

suffer us not at our last hour

for any pains of death

to fall from Thee...

...for as much as it has pleased almighty God in his great mercy

to take unto Himself the soul of our dear sister here departed.

Vicar, may I ask a favour of you?

I am given to understand that you have a fine collection of books

on a variety of subjects.

I wonder if you have any on witchcraft or black magic.

If so, may I have the use of your library?

- Come with me. - Thank you.

Come in, sir.

No, no, please sit down.

Oh, hello, Peter.

Peter...

Have you ever heard of voodoo?

- it's a form of witchcraft, isn't it? - Exactly.

It's practiced in the Caribbean, in Haiti to be precise.

Please sit down, Vicar.

I find all kinds of witchcraft slightly nauseating

and this I find absolutely disgusting.

You're not following and there's no reason why you should

if I don't explain properly.

- Unless you would like to... - No, I'm ignorant in these matters.

Oh, well.

Sylvia tells us that she saw something on the moors,

something that was a man and yet not a man.

Her description was of a walking corpse,

the corpse of Martinus' brother.

Now...

...young Martinus also says that he saw something on the moor,

something that he insists was his brother.

But we know that his brother is dead.

We also know that he is not lying in his coffin.

Now, what do you make of that?

That he was buried alive,

that he somehow freed himself and he's out there.

But I've told you, Peter, I saw him.

And he was as dead then as any corpse I have ever seen.

No, that's not the answer.

Then, what is? What is the connection with voodoo?

Someone in this village is practicing witchcraft.

That corpse wandering on the moors is...

...an undead, a zombie.

It's incredible, sir.

How can you, a man of science, believe that?

I have an advantage over you there, Peter.

I spent the afternoon reading up the subject in the vicar's library.

And it's all there.

It's all clearly scientifically stated.

And we have the evidence of two sensible human beings.

What can be done?

About Martinus' brother? Nothing.

I'm thinking of Alice.

- Are you saying that Alice is...? - Peter, I am.

I pray that I'm wrong.

But I�m going to watch over her grave tonight with the vicar until daybreak.

I'll come, too.

I�d rather you didn�t. I think you need some rest.,

- I am rested, sir. - Well, I'm...

If anything were to happen, I'd rather you weren't there.

I'm coming with you.

Very well.

- Vicar? - What?

I think you should go home now. it's very late.

Dr Tompson and I will stay on.

- If you're sure. - Yes, yes. Quite sure.

All right.

- Good night, Sir James. - Good night.

What happened?

- Who attacked you? - I don't know.

He wore a mask.

We'll take you home.

I shall be all right now, thank you. If you should need me...

Don't worry. We won't hesitate to call you.

Thank you, Sir James.

We must get back. This may have been a trick.

Zombie.

- Oh. - Peter?

Peter, it's all right. it's all right now.

You had a nightmare.

A nightmare?

Then, it wasn't Alice?

I'm afraid that part of it was true.

You fainted and we brought you back here.

And Alice?

Reburied properly.

The vicar gave her absolution.

She will be at peace now.

Peace? Is there such a thing?

There will be, my son, and with God's help

and the energy of your good friend, I am sure of it.

Well, I must get back to my church now.

Thank you for your help, Vicar.

It is I who should be thanking you. I shall pray for you both.

Would you care to tell me about your dream?

It sometimes helps.

I dreamed I saw the dead rise.

All the graves in the churchyard opened and the dead came out.

All the graves were empty.

In heaven's name, where are they? What's happened to them, sir?

It is essential that none of the villagers should know of this.

We must get these graves filled in before anyone is astir.

Very good, sir.

Sergeant, I want another word with your prisoner, young Martinus.

- You want to see him right away, sir? - Yes, immediately.

He's got away, Sergeant!

Anyone can see that. The question is how?

The question is, where did he go? Has he joined the others?

- The others? - You know what I mean.

But he's not dead, sir.

Not yet, Sergeant.

But he soon will be.

Did the prisoner have any visitors yesterday?

- Well, did he? - Er... No, sir.

- Are you sure? - Yes, sir.

Well, only the squire, that is.

- What did he want? - He wanted a word with the prisoner.

I didn't think there was anything wrong.

- What did they talk about? - Oh, I didn't listen, sir.

I didn't think it would be right.

They just talked? Nothing else?

- No, nothing, sir. - Are you sure?

Well, of course I'm sure, sir. They just talked.

Oh, the Squire asked for a glass of water.

For the prisoner. He said he was thirsty so I got him one.

Where is it?

- The water? - The glass!

I threw it away, sir. It got broken.

- Who broke it? You? - No, the Squire.

And young Martinus out himself?

How did you know that?

Never mind.

Sylvia.

Sylvia?

- Yes, Father. Whats the matter? - Oh, there you are.

Oh, nothing, I...

I was just getting a little worried about you.

Why? I'm all right now. I'm just clearing up.

- How's the finger? - Fine, thank you. Almost healed.

I must get on.

Ah, Peter. I have to go out again. I want you to do something for me.

Don't let Sylvia out of your sight until I tell you it is safe to do so.

- But, sir... - Please.

Believe me when I say she is in danger.

- What can I do for you? - We have met before, young man,

in somewhat disturbing circumstances.

However, I shall not hold that against you.

Is Mr Hamilton in?

He's in but he's busy.

Good. Will you tell him that I want to see him?

I've told you, he is busy.

I'm glad to hear it. I, too, am a busy man.

But as I have found the time to come all the way out to see him

I think that he could come out to see me.

Would you tell him that, please?

Well?

Yes, thank you.

- Are you being funny? - No, I'm not being funny.

I'm just trying to remember my manners.

I wish I could say the same for you.

My name is Forbes. Yours is Hamilton, I believe.

What do you want?

I want to talk to you, Mr Hamilton.

In private.

Get out.

What do you want to see me about?

About Alice Tompson.

About young Martin us.

- About my daughter, Mr Hamilton. - What about them?

And about many others who should be at rest now,

at rest in their graves.

- What has happened to them? - How should I know?

I don't know how but you do know.

You know very well what has happened to them.

Are you mad?

I almost wish I was. This business is so appalling.

Mr Hamilton...

Am I right in thinking

that you have spent a large part of your life in the Caribbean,

in Haiti, to be precise?

And while you where there,

did you learn something of the practice of voodoo?

You are mad!

No, I'm not. But can the same be said of you?

Get out of here!

- I'm not going. - Yes, you are.

Good night, Mr Hamilton.

Well, I'm ready.

Kada nostra. Kada estra.

Kada nostra.

Kada estra.

- Kada nostra. - What was that?

Nothing, Peter.

Come to me.

You will come to me.

- What is it? - Some water, please.

Come and sit down.

Sylvia?

Aargh!

Help! Help!

- Hamilton, where is he? - I don't Know.

- Where is he? Where is he? - I don't know.

- Do you want to burn to death? - No, no, no!

- Where is he? - He's in the mine.

Get to the mineshaft, all of you!

Peter, look out! Peter!

Ohh!

Hurry!

Ah! Let me out!

Who the hell is that?

What? Son of a bitch.

Good Lord, I think that one's alive.

Let me see about that one.

Middle of the night...

Paul, light that other lantern for me.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Hurry up with that lantern.

Hey, Alan, I can't find the sail bag.

It's forward.

I looked, I can't find it.

Oh, Christ, I'll get it.

- Hey, Paul. - Yeah?

This island doesn't smell so hot.

Well, that's because they probably don't bury

their dead too deep.

This place is creepy.

Are we really going to dig up a dead body?

That's what he said.

Sort of makes him a ghoul, doesn't it?

- Boy, that's typecasting. - Shh, he'll hear you.

So.

So, you'll be an unemployed actress.

Paul, use this.

Well, I don't see any dead people.

Oh, the, uh, the graveyard starts right

up around that bend.

Where's the cottage?

Oh, a few hundred yards from the graveyard.

Say, um, Paul, I was thinking. Since, uh, Terry's a new member

of the company, sort of, uh, coming into her theatrical

puberty, so to speak, ha ha,

I just might have to invoke the rule of primal juncture.

Primal juncture, what's that?

It means he gets to make it with me first.

Sort of like the slave master breaking in all

the new virgins, right?

Well, crudely put, but, uh, basically accurate.

Well, Paul?

Well, you'll have to ask the virgin.

You're about ten years too late.

I lost it when I was a Brownie, to an Eagle Scout.

Oh, really?

Scout's honor.

Uh, how many merits does an Eagle Scout

get for seducing a Brownie? - I don't know, you'll have

to check that in your Boy Scout Manual,

under Things to do in the woods."

Clever girl.

Everybody grab your suitcases.

Hey, Alan, who's your travel agent? Count Dracula?

I feel like I'm on the Late, Late Show.

I'd whistle past the graveyard, but my lips are afraid

to be separated.

Gee, I wonder if Tab Hunter started like this?

Oh, I haven't laughed this hard since Granny

got caught in the wringer.

There's a light ahead.

- What is it? - That's the graveyard.

What the hell are they doing

with a street lamp out here?

This used to be a resort island. Come on.

Oh, and don't vorry, they only drink

kosher blood here, and all the vampires have their health

cards and they get inspected once a week.

You know, Alan, you're really weird. You oughta be in a wax

museum somewhere.

Kneeling right under the guy in the black hood.

Well, there it is. Ulalume, the sanctum of Satan.

It's a set, you had it built.

It's a masterpiece. The vibrations are powerful.

Why the hell would they build a graveyard out here?

Ah, yes, a logical question, uh, to which there is

a logical answer. The island you see has a history,

which I shall relate. But first, the ten cent tour.

Which we get for only a quarter.

This area is the pauper secfion.

All the corpses here were buried recently.

Kelly just, urn, levels off a section of ground, throws

the stiffs in it until the section is filled

then levels off another.

You mean the people right under my feet were just put here?

Ha ha, they're hardly cold. And a more delightful gaggle

of retches you will never meet.

Murderers, rapists...

There aren't any paupers buried in that section.

No, indeed there aren't. That is hallowed ground.

Come children, Uncle Alan's going to curdle your blood.

Uncle Alan already does.

Turns my stomach too.

I hope these things are going to stay in the ground.

- Not if I can help it. - Yick.

Feast your eyes on one of the last vestiges of grace,

one of the last flights of pure imagination,

of unadulterated creativity.

It's a boneyard.

A boneyard? A boneyard? What a travesty!

A sacrilege! A masterful reduction of the sublime

to the commonplace.

Only a truly ordinary mind, Jeffrey, could conceive

such an idea.

It is kind of pretty.

Give me a moment. The magnitude of your

simplitude overwhelms me.

Oh, what the hell's he talkin' about?

Humor him, it's an old war injury. I'll talk to him.

Alan... is it your hemorrhoids again?

Your levity does not amuse me, Jeffrey.

You're on sacred ground, my friend.

A very font of evil. For in this very crypt, lay a man

whose malice appalled the gods.

Whose unrelenting thirst for vengeance inflamed

the mind of Satan himself.

Even now, demonic forces hover here,

feeding upon the psychic force of that one act.

Be still.

Listen.

Even now, their malevolent gaze may be falling upon you.

I don't care if their gaze falls upon me, as long as they

keep their pea-pickin' hands to themselves.

Come, children, stay in single file and take hold

of one another. There are, urn, things in the night

waiting for children who stray out of the light.

It's a good thing he's a director, because, wow,

- what a bad actor. - I don't know,

I kind of get the feeling something is following us.

- Oh, what rot. - Could be.

Could be rotten.

- Did you hear that? - Yeah, I think I did.

Oh, brother, Alan will love this. I know I heard

something. Wait a minute.

Well, we all heard it.

Evil entities. I told you about them.

Not evil entities. Probably just one weird person.

What's the difference? We've got a shotgun in here.

Paul, you can't scare off demons with a shotgun.

I don't care about demons, I just hope we haven't

offended the leader of some hippy cult.

Oh, Christ, did you have to say that?

No, no, he's right.

What a perfect place for a mass murder.

How about this - a group of jaded young deviants,

that's us, comes to a burial island to, uh, dabble

in witchcraft, try a few spells, but, uh, but we stumble

onto some really sick cult which follows us along

a deserted path until, until finally...

- Oh, come on. - I'm leaving.

Don't give him the satisfaction.

What, I'm just being realistic. I mean, uh, they're having

trouble all over the world with grave robbers,

ghouls, people breaking into cemeteries.

But we're the grave robbers, whose going to bother us?

Nobody... but demons.

Come on now, children, it's late

and we've got a lot to do.

- Cheerful. - Yeah, it has a nice,

homey feeling.

Better get used to it, it's home for now.

How long has this place been empty?

About two years.

This door is pretty sturdy. Let's check the windows.

- Who lives here? - The caretaker of the cemetery.

- Where is he now? - An insane asylum.

Oh, God, I'm afraid to ask.

Oh, it's quite ordinary, really.

Killed his wife and two children, they found him babbling.

Why didn't they get another caretaker?

They did.

Hey, look. There's a woodpile. At least we can build a fire.

That's the best news I've heard all night.

Paul, come here.

We can kick these shutters in.

Go ahead, Paul, do your athlete thing.

Go through and open the door.

Jesus Christ!

- Paul, what's the matter? - Paul!

Spiders, goddamnit! Jesus, I hate spiders!

Jesus, I hate spiders!

You scared the hell out of us.

Oh, sorry!

Why don't you come around, I'll open the door.

Ah, not bad. Um, Jeff and Paul, you bring in the trunk, and, uh,

Jeffrey, then you build a fire in the fireplace. All right?

Hmm, not bad, not bad at all.

I, uh, I suggest we explore the quarters while Jeffrey's

building the fire. We may even come across a fuse box,

- who knows? - I suggest, let's sit

by the fireplace until it's lit. You Boy Scouts go and explore.

Anya, why don't you tidy up? And, Jeffrey, you repair

that window, would you please?

Paul, Terry and I will ferret out the castle.

Hey, why don't we let the mighty Joe Karate repair the window,

since he broke it.

I'm going to ferret out the castle with the master.

Hmm, look.

Oh, God! Oh, this is getting worse all the time.

- What is it? - Rats.

Well, if we come under siege, and the supplies run low...

- rat stew. - In your case,

that would be cannibalism.

Ha. Let's check upstairs. Paul, get me that lantern,

would you please?

I keep thinking about Satan worshipers with hatchets.

I'm not surprised.

Did you read about those campers last week?

A group of kids came over to their campsite and,

invited them for dinner. When they got to the kid's

camp, they realized they were the dinner.

All right, all right. Jesus Christ.

- Hey, did they...? - Yeah, they sure did.

Look, I, uh... I shouldn't ask, but whatever happened

to the other caretaker?

- He hanged himself. - You shouldn't have asked.

In, uh, in this very room, if I'm not mistaken.

Now, wait a minute. This is too much.

You tell us the first caretaker murdered his family,

the second caretaker hanged himself.

I mean, it's like a grade B movie where the villian

tries to drive the victims mad.

Oh, a villain, how flattering.

Do you have a large insurance policy on this company?

No, I'm bumping you all off as my contribution

to good theater.

Terry and I are going downstairs

This is beginning to look like the “Lost Weekend."

You know what they say, "A fire a day keeps those

ghosts away."

Why would you want to keep them away?

Wouldn't it be beautiful to be really in the presence

of a ghost?

- A being from another plane. - You're serious?

Yes, of course.

Well, I don't know. I always heard that ghosts have a way

of being downright nasty.

Oh, that's not true. What people perceive as evil in ghosts

and spirits is only a reflection of their own malevolence

and fear.

People create their own demons.

That's not very original, Anya.

Something is going to happen tonight...

I can feel it.

Oh, I wouldn't go in there, Anya. The place is full of rats.

Oh, they don't bother me. Rats don't mind people

that don't mind them.

I'll have to remember that

next time I run into a rat.

Personally, I never met a rat I didn't like.

"Let's take a rat to lunch today, show him

that he's one of the bunch today."

All right, children, story time.

Uncle Alan's going to chill your marrow and make you

squeal and get all wet and get goose pimples.

What the hell's the gun for?

Just in case any little ghosties try to break in here

and gobble up my children.

Hey, you got silver buckshot in there?

- No... but I've got this. - What is it?

What is it? It's the sorcerer's source box, the warlock's

war chest, the conjuror's conjuration.

The nincompoop's knapsack.

If things get really desperate, I'll just have you re-enact

some of your past performances.

Not even a thing from the blackest pit of hell

could stand up to that.

- What else have you got? - Oh, I've got many things.

For instance, this.

Banes to ward off evil entities.

Gee, Mr. Wizard, how do you get the litmus paper

to turn blue?

Same way I get the egg into the Coke bottle, bitch.

And this treasure of treasures

Here, Anya, hold that 'til I'm ready.

What, pray tell, is that treasure of treasures?

Later, Jeffrey, later. First, my robe.

Oh, wow! Where can I pick up one of those?

On the other side of eternity, my dear.

Talk about "my" performances.

What time is it?

Uh, it's 11230.

Perfect.

Perfect for what?

Midnight is the optimum time for any summation.

Wait a minute, just exactly what are we summoning?

I think it's about time the wizard came clean.

Oh, time the wizard came clean.

Ha ha ha, you know that's very poetic, Paul, in a prosaic

kind of way.

Look, we may not be poets, but we do have a right

to know what's going on.

The people speak! A little democratic action, ay?

Well, let me remind you, my darlings, that this company

is not a democratic enterprise. It's a feudal state.

I rule it. I own it. I own you.

The only difference between this feudal state and any other

feudal state is that here the serfs, uh, that's you, can quit

anytime you like. Anybody wanna quit? Huh?

Huh?

Aw, the revolution is dead. Long live the king.

Ha ha ha. However, as befits a benevolent and loving ruler,

I shall divulge all. Anya, the book.

This is a grimoire, a book of ancient spells, descending

in a direct line from the druids and the old religion.

It has spells, counter spells, conjurations, summations and...

here is the spell I have chosen for our purposes.

It details the simple steps and the simple words

necessary to enable a master to call forth the dead

from their graves, to bend their wills to his and serve him

always in this world... and the next.

And this island meets the unique stipulations

required for a summation.

A consummate evil was committed here, a curse lies

upon it and there are fresh cadavers available

and waiting for us.

And it's nearly midnight, so I suggest we go

and exhume our corpse.

Hey, Alan, how many years do they give you

- for grave robbing? - They hang you.

Suspended sentence, ay?

- Oh, my God, is nothing sacred? - Ding dong, Avon calling, ha ha.

I suppose Jeff and I are the burial detail?

Val can help you.

Let's see, "Orville Dunworth, 1929-1971."

Oh... he oughta be ripe.

Ok, this is the one.

So, this is the lucky stiff, huh?

Oh, shut up.

Ok, troops, dig in.

- Where's Anya? - She's back by the crypt.

Excellent. Well, let's see if anybody's home. Open up.

Hope he doesn't mind us dropping in like this.

Jesus Christ, is that for real?

God, I don't believe it.

Looks like Dracula.

Decomposition does strange things to people.

Haul him up, Jeff, let's take a closer look.

You want me to touch that thing?

He won't bite you.

Oh, I wouldn't bet on it.

Just lift him up to the rim, Jeff. Paul and I will haul

him out.

- Roy? - Certainly, you crazy bitch.

- You bastards! - Listen, Alan...

This crazy man bloodied my nose.

No... ha ha ha.

Paul, listen, it isn't funny, we were on the verge

of a genuine tragedy here.

I Peed my pants. I Peed my pants.

Listen, my nose is bleeding. That's blood from my body.

Listen, Alan, you didn't say there'd be a madman

with an axe. Jesus Christ, I could've been seriously hurt.

- You mean this was a gag? - No! No, Paul, these are two

real ghouls. They just, they just had a change of heart,

that's all.

Yeah, we're trying to go straight.

I oughta use this on you, man.

Ha ha ha, I peed my pants. Huh, yeah, I peed my pants.

Medic!

Oh, good heavens.

Mayhem, carnage, ugh, this is really the limit.

I mean fun's fun, but really!

Hush, darling, I'm putting you in for a Purple Heart.

Is that Emerson?

Oh, my God!

You've got a weird sense of humor.

Oh, come one, let's give the devil his due.

Very good, Alan.

Get up, Jeff.

I Peed my pants.

We all did.

That was really masterful.

How long did you take on this?

Emerson, Roy and I came out here yesterday and set it up.

Bravo! Come on Emer, let me see your makeup.

Ha ha, magnificent. How long did it take you?

Oh, I worked on it for about three hours.

Mine took four hours, of course, I was the lead.

Because you're stupid enough to let yourself be buried

in a filthy hole.

- How long were you in there? - About an hour.

You can last several hours.

Let's see your battle wound, Roy.

And of course the mad, cultist killer who was stalking us

was Emerson.

I cannot tell a lie, it was I and my trusty fangs.

Only a truly sick mind could have conceived such a plot.

Thank you.

And you, you little devils, you gave the best performance

of your entire careers.

I peed in my pants.

Will you quit giving us a play-by-play

of your flabby bladder?

My God, you should have seen the creature

we took out of that hole. I nearly fainted,

he's really dead.

He was probably a dishwasher.

That's a far cry from robber barons and rape and demons.

There are a bunch of plumbers and panhandlers buried out here.

Pretty punk stuff to tempt Satan with.

Not quite so. I'm sure there are quite a few murderers

and other assorted types that will please the master.

Emerson, what time is it?

- It's five of twelve. - Ah, the Witching hour.

We have to hurry, he won't wait.

Urn, what did you do with what's his name, Orville?

- He's over behind that tomb. - Wait a minute.

The joke's over. Terry's scared as hell,

I'm taking her out of here.

Have a good swim and don't forget to drop

your script off at the theater when you get back.

It's ok, Paul. It scared me, that's all. I'm all right now.

Look, this has gone far enough, man.

Look, it's my job too, I don't want to be fired.

- You sure? - Oh, why don't you stop?

If I made her crawl in that coffin and spend the night

with Orville, you wouldn't lift a finger to help if you thought

it would cost you your job.

And you know why? Because you're headed for the top...

the new Brando, actor, stud, bon vivant. All man-bull.

You know what you are? You're a slab of meat

I hired to dress my stage. And I like my sides of beef

to hang quietly in the corner until I need them.

So why don't you just shut up!

Oh, I hate it when you get so sentimental and mushy like that.

Of course they'll stay.

They wouldn't miss a chance to see you

square off with the devil.

Or maybe eat a little crow, when your performance

gets a big yawn.

If we judge by past performance, I don't think I'll bore anybody.

You can't live old reviews. This is a new play.

Let's get it on.

What do you say, children?

Would you like to see the maestro perform?

Do you think we can take it?

I'm not too worried.

Jeffy?

I don't care, give 'em hell. Anybody got a dry Pamper?

Gentlemen?

As long as we don't have to dig 'em up.

All right, it's time.

Go and drag Orville over here.

- Anya? Where's Anya? - She's abiding.

Anya, what are you doing now?

I'm gazing at the scroll of immortality.

Well, when you come to the end of a chapter, will you please

crawl up out of that hole and get the book and the makings.

It's really much nicer in here.

Great, we'll make it for a weekend sometime, all right?

Come on now, it almost midnight.

Is it?

Good. Good. He's magnificent. Look at him, Anya.

I wonder what he's thinking.

Jeff, get the candles.

Lift Orville up here.

Let's see. We'll... prop him up against the crucifix.

Bend his arms over the lateral.

My God, he's stiff as plaster.

Ha ha, perfect.

Anya, the envelope.

"And what's in the envelope?" they all asked, breathlessly.

What's in the envelope, Alan?

Blood. The dried blood of an unborn infant,

as called for in the Book of Spells.

Now, don't worry, no murder was committed,

it's just that every summation demands a sovereign ingredient

to a sacrifice.

This is ours. Help me up.

Now we begin.

Jeff, Paul, Emerson and Roy, grab shovels.

I want you to follow behind me, break the earth over the graves.

Thus.

I will go after and anoint them as prescribed. Go.

And after we do all of this, the dead are going to rise

from their graves, right?

Thus spaketh the master.

Hmm, an oldie but a goodie.

Silence!

Poor Anya.

Any second now, I expect to see her float off.

Summon the dead, bullshit.

Jesus Christ!

- What is it? - Look.

Hold this.

God. It's beautiful.

It's hideous.

- The root broke it open. - This is a sign.

They will rise. This is the sign.

Bull.

The root undermined the coffin, that's all.

It's a sign.

Anya.

Come.

What happened over there, Alan?

Never mind.

Kneel around the grave.

Clasp your hands together in the inverted prayer, like this.

Open your minds. Remove all doubt,

but be on your guard.

Let nothing take hold of you. Let nothing enter your body.

From this time on, you must be silent.

"O Great Diviner,

Master of the Three Worlds,

Disciple who became Master,

Lord of the Nether World,

Lord of Night,

Prince of Darkness,

Despoiler of Light,

Diviner of Powers,

Redeemer of Passion,

Crucible of Flesh.

By the blood incarnate, by the flesh made proud,

by the soul devoured of itself,

by these words we do implore, by these deeds we do supplicate

and call upon the grace of thee, Lord Almighty of the Underworld,

to release the souls of all thy servants

who lie here un-redeemed to release them

to serve thy servant,

bending their wills always to his, thus to thine own.

By the blood of babes unborn, by the inversion of the Savior,

by the bond of thine own hand,

we do entreat thee, deliver them up to us to command

in thy name, to serve our will and thine own.

By Lucifer, Beelzebub, Mephistopheles, Arkaneez

and all the under lords we do entreat,

let them rise, let them rise up.

Spiritus aquatani, salvete, let them rise.

Let them rise up, Satan, god of all.

They must be out to lunch.

Shut up, Jeffrey.

Looks like a no-show.

A fraud, a cheap, plastic fraud.

Ha! Satan, you phony. You liar!

You sorry sot!

I paid my money and I expect my merchandise.

You cretinous clown. You don't have any power.

Petty panderer! Cheap, chiseling con artist!

Two-bit, penny-ante potion peddler!

You lose, Alan.

You lose. Your summation is a bummer.

A silly little ghost story.

You should have stuck to the clown act.

It suits your talent.

And your vilification of Satan is rice pudding, soggy oatmeal,

stale goods, Alan, like all your creative efforts.

You're a clerk, Alan, a bookkeeper.

You'd better accept that.

And you know why?

Because it takes an artist to deal with the devil,

not an insurance man with delusions of grandeur.

Get out of the grave.

Get out of the grave, Alan.

Let an artist show you how call a curse down on Satan.

Hail, Satanic Majesty!

Hail, mighty Master of Evil!

Tormentor of Lost Souls,

paragon of Perfidy,

antichrist, vilest of the vile,

respected foe of Jehovah and the archangel,

usurper, seducer,

panderer supreme.

Hail!

Hail!

So what's with this little thing we're asking?

A few rotting corpses to serve our meager needs.

So what's the trouble, hmm?

You got the blood you were asking, right?

You got Orville, right?

You've got the warlock and his war chest.

Right?

Is that a bargain, I ask you?

A vizard, foist class!

So vhere's the goods?

Satan!

You tveaker of puppy-dog tails!

You bilious bag of bombast.

You paltry purveyor of potence.

You half-vitted Helicon of horse manure.

Mighty master of evil!

Ha!

Your most terrifying trick is growing warts

on old ladies' noses,

scaring scarecrows, snitching buttons,

ingrown toenails, corns and chickenpox.

That's your speed.

Very good, Valerie, very good.

Excellent.

Bravo. Not bad.

It's a tie game!

Not quite. I've got another ace in the hole.

Or, uh, an ace out of the hole, I should say.

- It's party time, it's the shank of the evening.

My friend, Orville, and I are having cocktails

in ten minutes at my island cottage.

- Strictly informal. - Wait a minute,

- you can't do that. - Oh, but I can.

It's Orville's coming-out party. He's been away for a long time.

Orville's in the underground, you know.

I'm sure he has many interesting things to tell us.

Alan, you're not really gonna take that thing

- back to the cottage. - But it's his party.

I, I mean, it certainly would be rude not to invite

him to his own party.

We should show some respect for the dead.

Why? The dead are losers.

If anybody hasn't earned respect, it's the dead.

A man has a right to some dignity, even when he's dead.

Man? Man is a machine that manufactures manure.

Anya?

We'll put him back.

I think he'll like it.

We won't embarrass him, will we, Alan?

Oh, not a bit, no.

I'd be mortified, I...

More than likely Orville will shame us all.

You always seem to be holding the cards, Alan.

Let's see how many more you have up your sleeve.

OK.

Jeff, you and Paul escort Orville back to the cottage.

Carry him Roman style.

Roy, you and Emerson stay here and fill in the graves.

And then bring the trunk back to the cottage when you come.

Why do we get all the physical stuff?

Because you're such physical brutes.

Oh, and you'd better bring the caretaker

back to the house with you.

Wait 'til Gay Power hears about this.

It's customary to carry the corpse over the threshold.

Right!

Looks like the honeymoon is over.

Wrong, we're not even married yet.

Wait a minute now, let's see.

Stand him... him? Her? It?

Stand "it" up.

- You crushed his bouquet. - Correction - it's bouquet.

It does have a very definite bouquet

Careful, that's my bride-to-be you're talking about.

A perfect match.

And you, a holy man. Shame, shame.

Paul, you can be best man.

Or should I say best corpse?

Ten to one it's a shotgun wedding.

Let's see. Family of the groom on the right.

Family of the corpse on the left. Val, if you don't mind.

Laughs.

All right, who's going to give the bride away?

I don't know but you better hurry.

Music.

Begin.

Dearly beloved,

we are gathered here today to join together this man

and this, urn, body,

in holy - well, not so holy, but it's okay, wedlock.

Uh, more or less.

All right, please repeat after me.

I, Alan, take this body...

I, Alan, take this body...

Welcome to it, you deserve everything you're getting.

To love, honor and cherish, in sickness and in health,

for richer or for poorer, 'til death do you part.

And you'd better hurry, believe you me. Ha ha ha...

And, Orville, do you go along with all of this?

Well, then by the power invested in me by Reddy Kilowatt,

I now pronounce you man and... well, whatever he is. Ha ha.

Paul, see if you can put some life into the party.

Which party are you referring to?

Down, Jeff.

OK, Big P, let's get this show on the road.

What's the matter, big fella?

Cat-daver got your tongue?

What a bunch of stiffs, eh, Orv?

That's all right, keep a stiff upper lip.

Keep a stiff upper lip!

Orville's my straight man.

All right, pretty boy, you do it.

I can't think of anything funny to say.

That's because it's not funny.

It's disgusting.

Disgusting?

Do I, uh, disgust you,

Miss, uh, Seducible Brownie?

Why, this is just good, clean fun.

Sure, check it out in your Girl Scout Manual under,

"Things to do in the cemetery".

Now, wait a minute. - Sit down, meat.

You know, I don't think that Orville likes

being called, uh, disgusting.

I know that I don't like being called disgusting.

Perhaps you shouldn't be working for someone so, uh...

disgusting!

Hmm? Maybe I ought to just release you from your contract

under the, uh, "disgusting" clause.

And, and also from my disgusting "claws." Hmm?

Well, guess we'll have to dig up a new actor, eh, Orville?

Got anyone you'd like to recommend?

- No. - It's an immediate opening.

I didn't mean to start anything.

You didn't mean to start anything? Why did you, then?

- I was upset. - Well, now Orville's upset.

I don't know. I'll see if he'll forgive you.

What do you think, Orville?