Original subtitles

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Hello? Yes. Uh, can you get Sam?

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They're heading for the estate on Messervy Hill.

- Silverkiss. - Silverkiss.

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Do be careful, Sam!

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Sister!

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Woman: Don't...move.

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You nearly ruined the shot.

Man: And cut!

That was marvellous, very convincing!

You.

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Ruth!

Were you expecting someone else?

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Man: And cut!

It's top secret.

Two skydivers in broad daylight is hardly inconspicuous.

Well, he's never been the most undercover of spies.

- We all know that. - I still don't follow.

I thought that the actor... um...

- Scott Kincade. - Yes.

He left the role, didn't he?

He did.

And this is the hunt for the next Agent Jonas Best.

How exciting!

So you're here to do a puff-piece on the new star?

And to lend some moral support. Hello, darling.

Where are my manners?

Kingsley, Kingsley Markham.

We all know who you are, Mr. Markham.

I'd say you must be a shoo-in for Agent Best.

TV Star and war hero.

Well, we all did our duty. I, uh, I wasn't the only hero.

Not by far.

War stories again, Bomber?

Sam: Well, it would have been nice to get some notice.

Terribly sorry, old chap.

Uh, you're Gillespie, um, aren't you?

And Livingstone, I presume.

I play bridge with Lowsley over at the Wisemans'.

And, uh, that makes you...

Boniface. Sister Boniface.

Enchanted.

Well, since you've all raced up here, why not come in

and take the tour? Come on.

- Ruth: Marvellous! - No. We probably...

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So, this is where I write them.

Four months a year I plant myself down, hash it all out,

and when it's all done, it's back to the Bahamas I go.

You're, um... Bermudian, aren't you?

Felix: Yes. Yes, sir.

Lovely place. Excellent fishing. Are your family there?

Felix: Yes. I have a fiancée, but...

Lincoln: But?

But?

I ju-- I just haven't heard from her in a while.

Whatever you do, don't touch that.

One solid tap

and you'll blow us all to strawberry jam.

- Gosh! - It's a memento mori.

A Nazi general tried to trick me with this back in Paris.

Luckily I knew his mistress.

Like the hotel chapter in "Russian Roulette"?

Ah! A reader! Dear boy, I'm flattered.

Well, it's true I do steal from my own exploits.

Ah, let me show you this beauty. Quite...

I don't think he meant me.

Ah, sorry. Let me introduce...

Miss Volante needs no introduction.

You don't seem the sort to follow fashion, Mister...?

Gillespie. Detective Inspector.

Fashion, no. But I've an eye for faces.

Police? I hope there's no trouble?

Oh, the -- the parachute stunt ruffled a few feathers, my dear.

You should have seen the Inspector here

leaping into action.

Must have been quite a sight.

Ruth: Sorry to interrupt.

Thought you might like to know Campbell's back.

Excuse me.

Man: What you talking about, Campbell? You're being paranoid.

Paranoid?! You sabotaged my gear!

Watch it, Hamlet! Keep your tights on.

Gentlemen? Gentlemen.

Campbell, you didn't jump.

Equipment found to be faulty, sir.

Too late to do anything about it.

Benson, not your mucking about, was it?

And if it was?

Alright! Was just looking over the script again.

Couldn't find my copy.

Man: Well, now that we're all here, we can press on, can't we?

I'm about to do the screen tests, if you'd like to watch.

We're down to the final three.

I made it part of the deal when I sold the books, you see.

I get the final say on who plays Jonas Best.

Actually, I think it might be time for us to get going.

Oh, Yes. No, we should probably get along.

So good to see you again, Ruth.

You too, Sister.

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Would you have told me you were back?

Would you have really wanted warning?

"I'm bringing my new boyfriend home, Sam."

Bit old for "boyfriend," don't you think?

Although, I understand why you're embarrassed.

Hardly.

This whole escapade is under embargo,

and my silence was strictly professional.

Benson: Look...

will you just do us a favour and talk to him?

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- You alright there? - Mm.

Benson, we're all set. Oh, and you, Inspector.

We could do with some notes from a modern man of action.

- Come on. - Sam: Well...

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Man: Herr Doktor Obsteil is the Head of ARAKNID.

This is our chance to smash them once and for all.

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I'll have to call you back, sir.

Something big has just come up.

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I'm Pritti.

I can see that from here.

Pritti Redbush.

Well...

that remains to be seen.

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Where are you going?

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England expects every man to do his duty.

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Cut there. Bravo, Kingsley. Now, Benson. You ready?

Sort of.

Wouldn't mind throwing in a few changes.

Less of the chit-chat. More muscle.

The script is there for a reason.

It's too frilly. Not right.

Campbell: Darling, if I can recite the entirety

of "Uncle Vanya" off by heart,

I'm sure you can remember a few innuendos.

It's going to be harder for me if I'm just improvising.

Yeah I'm not asking. This is how I want to play it.

Alright, alright. Let him try it.

Okay, stand by. Places, everyone.

- Man #2: Action! - Benson: Stuff your orders.

I'm writing Herr Doktor Obsteil a fatal prescription.

Ah. Redbush, is it?

You were supposed to make contact an hour ago.

I could make contact with you now.

Hmm. Holster it.

I'll give you a shooting lesson when I get back.

If you walk out on me, Jonas Best...

I'll kill you.

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And cut there.

Well...that was lively.

You can get up now, Benson.

Not likely.

He's dead.

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- I need some air. - I need a drink.

It looked like a heart attack.

I wouldn't be so sure.

I looked, but the tank's empty. Just sand and plants.

Right. Thank you.

Not to alarm anyone,

but I think you should all check your clothes.

Because...?

Because there's a deadly deathstalker scorpion

on the loose.

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Horrible way to go.

When we're on location, we'll have to keep an eye out

for all sorts of things.

You know, snakes, stingrays, centipedes...

"We"?

Just think of the stories you could bring back

from Jamaica or Japan.

An adventure, together!

If I get the part.

Well...

I'd have to clear it with the paper.

It's a lot to think about.

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Bad news. No sign of the scorpion.

- Terrific. - No. It gets worse.

It couldn't escape unaided,

and it wouldn't make a bed in someone's hat.

Do you think someone put it in there?

I think this was cold-blooded murder.

Well, we need to find that murder weapon.

Peggy, can you be in charge of finding this scorpion, please?

- But... - Now I did find a few things

- that might be of interest. - Really, sir?

Alzedrine?

I wouldn't have pegged Benson as the sort to use amphetamines.

Boniface: And then there's this.

Hans Obsteil. Casino bomb. Harpoon.

All plot points from the book.

Oh, so it is true!

Ruth, what do you know about this?

Word back on Fleet Street

was that Lincoln didn't come up with the plots alone.

Proof of that would be quite a piece of leverage.

Ask yourself this -- why would a beach bum like Benson

be up against a TV star and a classically trained actor?

What? You think he was using this as leverage?

Can we not share theories with the reporter and murder witness?

Felix, perhaps you could help with the search.

I used to help you all the time.

There is a killer out there.

And for all I know, you may be trying to protect them.

Really, Sam?

You've made your bed.

And I shall enjoy lying in it.

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I'm going to see what Lincoln has to say about this.

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Lincoln: My friend just died and you think I had a hand in it?!

Sam: Before turning author,

you were in the Special Operations Executive.

That makes you something of an expert in underhand killing.

And you owned the murder weapon.

What sort of a killer shows off his modus operandi

to a policeman minutes before carrying out a murder?

A gambler, perhaps.

One with a flair for the dramatic.

And, well, maybe you thought it was the perfect alibi.

- Tommyrot. - Benson was a game fisherman.

He smuggled wild animals.

He didn't get that audition on his acting talent.

He had something on you.

I told him I was going to write a spy novel.

We sat up drinking and worked out a few ideas together.

Just because he wrote them down

doesn't mean he came up with them.

But you still put him forward for the role?

He insisted...

or he'd tell the press I was a fraud.

- Which I am not. - So it was blackmail?

It was bargaining. And I agreed the terms.

And what if he wanted more? What if he demanded the role?

Look, I-I'm not convinced by this murder business anyway,

and neither is the studio.

It was just some horrible accident,

but the screen-tests are going ahead.

The new Best is due on location in less than a week.

- You are joking. - About my work? Never.

"Bullionmaster" was a flop.

The studio spent more on -- on sharks and ninjas

than the other four films combined!

This is make or break for Agent Best.

This has to be a hit!

Convenient, then, that the worst player

is out of the race, don't you think?

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Sister?

Oh, I'm glad you're here.

Everything from Mr. Boyd's room.

He travelled light, thankfully.

Here, come and have a look at this.

So the good thing about the Alzedrine inhaler

is the aluminium.

Now, the finger oils

have actually etched onto the surface...

and the bulk of the fingerprints on it aren't from Mr. Boyd.

- It's not his? - No.

I think he stole it.

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Sam: Mr. Kamen, a word, please.

Campbell: Who are you?

Division 4?

The Deuxième Bureau?

We're the police.

Mm-hmm.

A likely story, Comrade.

If this is some kind of acting stunt, staying in character...

I warn you, this is official police business,

and we need clarity on this.

Apologies.

Acting is my lifeblood...

character my...raison d'être.

- How can I help? - This is your Alzedrine?

It was found in Benson's pocket when he died.

My guess is without your high to settle your nerves,

you couldn't make the jump.

I am an actor. Not a bloody stunt man.

I shouldn't be jumping out of a plane, full stop.

That's what back screen projection is for.

You claimed that it was sabotage.

Why would you blame it on Benson?

Because he was already messing me around,

going through my things, helping himself to my medicine.

I only take that for congestion...

by the way.

The man was an oaf. A brute.

But as for assassinating him, why would I?

He wasn't a genuine threat for the part.

I had nothing to fear from him.

Except to expose you as a coward and a drug addict?

Phoebe: Aah! Scorpion! There it is!

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- You've found it? - Boniface: Yes.

Well spotted, Ms. Volante.

Well, she was trying to kill it.

Ah, Claudine! You've found her!

Boniface: Alive and kicking.

I will need to take it with me,

but the house should be safe to sleep in now.

- That's a relief. - Not entirely safe.

There was a murder here.

- Yes. That too. - So you keep saying,

but I don't buy it, myself.

Now, as soon as I've got my new Agent Best,

I'm putting him on a plane.

- Crikey. - Everyone should get some rest.

We'll get back to it in the morning.

Wonderful. Thank you.

In that case, you should get whatever you can

from the, um, weapon as soon as you can.

Right. Yes.

Test the living, angry, lethal scorpion.

Of course.

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Morning!

Any progress?

- No. Not yet. - Well, our killer could be

overseas in the next 48 hours.

We need something concrete.

Did Benson have that?

Boniface: So it seems.

Just the article on its own? How odd.

I'll test for fingerprints in a moment.

Hmm. Juniper?

I expect from when Ms. Volante threw her cocktail at it.

That's one way to tamper with evidence.

Well, she was very eager to hit it.

Has a keen aim, I might add.

Hmm.

Of course!

Be careful. I'll be back.

Oh!

Forgot my breakfast. Sorry.

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I've already telephoned the number.

It's a clinic.

And there are very few reasons why a young man might recommend

a specialist to a woman.

You can't help yourself, can you?

We always used to help each other.

- I scratch your back... - That was then.

I'm still a journalist, and you're still a detective.

Whatever happened between us hasn't changed that.

Well, what about travelling around the world

with Kingsley Markham?

What about solving this murder?

Do you think she'll talk to you? Ms. Volante?

I think she's good at handling men.

Woman-to-woman, I might catch her off guard.

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No secrets.

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So you killed him.

What drove you?

East and West?

Queen and Country? I...

You might be deadly, Agent Best, but...

but... Oh, no.

But...

"...you're never too deadly to die."

You'd think I could remember that.

Well, they can edit out a fluffed line.

What they can't fake is all that emotion.

So...bravo, I say.

Thanks.

Before this, the most I'd ever said on screen was

"Keep your claws off my Gala Chocolate."

And is this what you always wanted?

Acting, and not modelling?

I want to be good at something.

To be able to look after myself, and...

not be someone's property.

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And do you think you'll keep it?

The baby?

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Was Benson was the father?

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You don't miss a trick, do you?

Well, that scene with Mr. Boyd...

the line about killing him if he walked out on you...

Improvisational intuition.

It was very convincing.

He was so sure he had the part.

He had dirt on the other two, he said,

and wasn't going to let some "dumb brat" ruin his life.

He thought he was about to become

the biggest sex symbol in the world.

Well, that must have made you angry.

Oh.

You were doing so well with your sisterly concern.

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Are you after the story for your paper...

or for the handsome detective, I wonder?

So you think I'd kill to solve my man troubles, hmm?

Does that say more about me...

or you?

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I won't ask you again.

Is Miss Redbush a double-agent? Is she working for ARAKNID?

And cut! No, no, no. No, no, no.

I-It's not enough. Look, look, look.

Hans Obsteil has just fed your best friend to the barracudas.

You need to show more cruelty. Come on, go again.

- More! More! - Cruel.

Any joy with Ms. Volante?

Well, she was right to hate Benson Boyd.

She also said he had "dirt" on the other two.

- More blackmail? - Lincoln: And...action!

That means he must have something on Kingsley.

You said you wanted to help solve this murder.

Well, yes, but...

Kingsley: I won't ask you again.

Is Miss Redbush a double-agent?

Is she working for ARAKNID?

And cut. No, no. No.

It's still not -- It's -- It's not quite...

You need -- Oh! Inspector.

Would you come over here for a second?

Look, you've restrained people, haven't you? Dished it out?

Would you show him how it's done?

Well, I've plenty of stunt experience.

I doubt there's anything Sam here can show me

that I don't already know.

All due respect, old chap.

Of course, old chap. I'll have a go.

Good, good. Okay, let's try.

Sam: Do you mind?

Lincoln: And action!

Forgive me, Doktor. This may sting a little.

And cut! That's it, that's it. That's the chops!

Now, now, Kingsley, try and be a bit more like Sam.

There's a good fellow. Once more, come on.

You can do it, come on.

Sam: Thank you.

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Here you are.

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Just a minute.

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Oh.

Oh, dear.

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I won't let you ruin things for Kingsley.

Or your chance to run away with him?

He missed out on the role before.

This is his last chance.

Before he ages out, you mean.

Oh, come on. He's a natural for it.

It's the one thing he'd be really good at.

Only the one thing? Shame.

Oh, you're still just as arrogant as ever.

Not arrogant.

- Confident. - Confident of what, exactly?

My judgement.

Uh, there's something you should see.

- The cigarette lighter. - No. Not that.

Oh, I see. It's missing.

The bomb!

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I was expecting Doktor Hans Obsteil.

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He left...

empty-handed.

Did you get your answers, Agent Best?

Or has life dealt you another losing hand?

And cut!

For heaven's sake! I can't work with all this interruption!

Everyone be quiet! Listen!

The shoe is ticking.

Get down! Now!

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Well, rather you than me, old boy.

I think you need to cancel the whole thing.

Someone's hell bent on killing the Best men.

No! Never.

Look, I don't know what's going on here,

but I will not be intimidated.

The screen tests are going ahead.

I've -- I've too much invested in this.

I've got to find the right man.

I will not risk Best going bust.

Felix, make sure there's someone on site at all times.

We don't know what they'll try next.

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- Looks strange. - Hmm.

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What happened? You're not hurt, are you?

No. Somebody tried to blow us up.

- A bomb? - Yes.

Where was he when the bomb went off?

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- Oh, that's right. - What?

I nearly forgot.

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The bomb-disposing hero?

It's not him.

Kingsley: Now, I won't let you out of my sight again.

See the world with me, Ruth.

I need you by my side.

Well, why not? You only live once!

Mm.

Kingsley Markham?

Come with me, please.

Oh, come off it!

I suppose I shouldn't question the timing.

It's obvious you and Ruth have a past.

Well, if we're talking of timings,

you were the only one away from the grounds

when the bomb went off.

Lunch -- at Armstrong and Simmons.

- You can check. - We will.

You have something of a history with explosives, don't you?

Defusing them. Not planting them. Yes.

Like this?

- Yes. Exactly. - Delicate job?

Very.

Take a closer look.

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You're clearly right-handed.

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So when you were dealing with the bomb,

why did you hold those pliers in your left hand?

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I take it Ruth doesn't know.

Look.

I'm not a fraud.

I was in that unit, yes. but it was another engineer,

Cole Higson, who worked on that bomb.

The next day Higson and another friend were killed,

and suddenly I was being touted as the only surviving hero.

No one left alive to contradict it.

Convenient.

My agent insisted on cashing in.

Thought no one would notice.

Is that what Benson threatened you with?

Yes. I was surprised that he even read the papers.

He didn't seem the type.

Sam: And to think your secret almost died with him.

Just like your pal Higson.

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If you tell Ruth about this...

Go on.

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You don't threaten me.

What would happen if I did?

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Juniper.

Fascinating.

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This is really rather fascinating.

See, something has bonded to the sand like cement.

It's kept this rather interesting shape.

Does Sam really suspect Kingsley,

or is he just trying to spoil my happiness?

Sam wouldn't do this to spite you, Ruth.

I'm sorry.

So you really think Kingsley could have done it?

Well...

you know him better than we do.

How do you feel about him?

I know he cares for me. Loves me.

He's not afraid to show it.

That's a rare quality in a man,

being able to show their emotions.

Yes, but they do say that still waters run deep.

Or they just freeze over.

Do you love him?

Kingsley? Um...

not yet.

But it's the chance to be loved.

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And should I really gamble on longer odds...

when I have something this good right now?

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Phoebe: You might be deadly, Agent Best...

but you're never too deadly to die.

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So...

you're working for the other side.

Wrong.

It's a private vendetta.

Hans Obsteil is my father.

- Venus Obsteil? - The very same.

Now hands...up.

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If you insist.

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Campbell: I have to hand it to you.

It was an excellent performance.

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And cut.

Excellent choices, Campbell. Very convincing.

Look, I think we'll call it a day there.

Thanks all for your hard work

and for not letting these hiccups get in your way.

We'll do the dailies overnight,

then have an answer on Jonas Best

first thing tomorrow.

Then, it's next stop Panama.

No time to waste!

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Wake up.

We've barely got an hour to catch our suspect

- before they may be on a plane. - Sorry.

Ah, Sister, did the bomb yield anything?

Sadly heat and the blast wiped almost every trace from it.

But interestingly, the underside of the card shoe

yielded some peculiar results --

birch oil, seal oil, and even a rye bread beer.

- Meaning? - Oh, I don't know.

Yet. Sorry.

But there's also this.

Now, it's definitely sand from the scorpion's cage.

Somehow it mixed with gin and then dried into this cement.

And you did say you wanted some concrete evidence.

Yes, sorry. Uh...

So, martinis are the favourite drink

of both Agent Best and his author.

Everybody had gin in one form or another...

except for Ms. Volante.

- She was only drinking water. - Hmm.

- So, no rye bread beer at all? - No.

What are we missing? Why was Benson killed?

What was he mixed up in?

Mixed up in...

Mixed up in...

- Mixed up in... - Woman: # She's a sister #

# You cannot miss her #

# Clues undone, crooks on the run #

# Your shot is a million to one #

# When you face the Golden Nu-u-u-u-un #

# The Golden Nu-u-u-u-un #

# The Golden Nun #

##

- Bingo! - Sister?

It was the cocktail shaker, Sam. I know how they did it.

And birch oil, seal oil, rye bread beer.

They aren't separate samples.

They're all one sample!

- Do they make a cocktail? - No.

But they do make a very interesting case!

Well, this hasn't been an easy decision to make...

Ah. Just in time. We're about to announce our man.

Perhaps we should announce our man first.

Sister Boniface?

Mr. Kamen, moments after Mr. Boyd was killed,

you said that you needed a drink and left the room,

taking a cocktail shaker with you --

a cocktail shaker containing remnants of gin and sand --

sand that you had to get rid of that you scooped up

transporting a scorpion to Benson Boyd's hat.

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Sand? Is this a joke?

Are you forgetting I was almost blown up?

- That killer came for me? - A misdirect.

You had 10 seconds to escape if you needed.

But luckily for you, I came rushing in.

Boniface: In fact, it was the misdirect that betrayed you.

In placing the bomb, you left traces of several peculiar oils.

Oils we'll almost certainly find on your hands right now

and all used in the making of a certain type of leather...

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Sister.

Russian leather.

##

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What is this?

He's a spy.

When Mr. Boyd helped himself to your Alzedrine,

he discovered what you were really packing.

Being a smuggler, he was well-versed

on secret compartments.

Will you just give it back?

Thought you had a whole stash in here.

What's all this gear?

Where's all your dope?

Ooh. Secrets, eh?

I thought there was something fishy about you.

Sam: And so you killed to silence him.

An assassination, you called it. Ask yourself this.

Why would a classically trained actor

who can recite Chekhov and hated stunts

be so determined to play Agent Best?

And anything suspicious about his behaviour,

he could have claimed that he was...

"method acting."

And in a high-profile role like Jonas Best, Mr. Kamen here

can gather compromising intel on high society.

I am right in saying members of the Royal Family

- attend premieres? - Sam: What were your orders?

To spy or to kill?

##

Ahh, ahh, ahh. Careful.

You wouldn't want to find out how sharp my reflexes are.

Unbelievable.

A communist.

A genius.

How humiliating it would be when I revealed myself,

the world's most famous secret agent,

as a defector.

British Intelligence would be in disgrace.

Well, the game's up, chum.

Not quite.

I can still strike a blow against Western hypocrisy.

But where to send this final, lethal barb?

The beloved TV actor?

Do your worst.

Campbell: The celebrated author?

The pregnant model?

The interfering nun?

Oh, yes. We have a dossier on you, Sister.

Oh, really?

Campbell: The intrepid journalist?

Don't you dare.

Campbell: The stupid policeman,

who just didn't know when to be quiet?

I'll drink to that!

##

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Sam?

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Sam: Ruth!

Are you hurt?

I'm just a little...

shaken.

##

My organisation won't forget this.

Your embarrassing incompetence, you mean?

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This never happened with the other fella.

I suppose now my secret is out, that I've lost the part.

Not at all, my dear. They can shoot around it.

If they could hide the fact the last Agent Best was bald,

they can certainly disguise a little bump.

Excuse me.

##

Well, the part's yours, effective immediately.

By default?

You just stood up to an actual KGB killer.

- You earned it -- you keep it. - Oh, congratulations.

Well, I couldn't have done it without you, darling.

I am sorry about Benson.

Ah, he was a good friend, but hard work.

My dear, be sure to mention in your exclusive

that Benson Boyd was the co-creator of all this.

The next film is going to set that right.

- Alright. - Which I -- we --

need to pack for.

But first, please, a toast.

I shall fetch some champagne.

Sir. Sir.

Sir. There are some men from Special Branch at the station.

Okay, yeah, we'll be there in five minutes, yeah? Thank you.

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Well, we shouldn't keep them waiting.

##

Genuine secret agent adventure, and I miss the bomb,

I miss the harpoon, I miss the knockout punch.

All I got to do was look for an ugly bug.

- Oh, the scorpion! - Oh! Where?!

Oh, no, no. No, no. Still at the lab.

I mustn't forget to give her back.

You know, it's probably a good thing

that you weren't there for the dangerous bits.

And I suspect you're not the only one who feels

- like they have lost out. - Sam?

He'll be alright, won't he?

Perhaps I should get a drink in for him.

- He's certainly earned it. - Let me.

I've got an idea.

How was Special Branch?

A lot of "need to know" talks

that apparently Sam and I do not need to know.

Officially, I have been sworn to never speak about it again.

- Of course. - But they assured me that

everything is in safe hands now.

Now that we've solved it for them?

Sam put it a little bit more...colourfully.

Did he say if he'd be joining us?

I'm not sure.

Um...

he seemed like he needed to be alone.

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Well done.

You got your man.

You saved my life.

I owe you a drink at least.

I'd love to, but I don't have time.

I have to smooth things over with the paper before I go.

You'd have all the time in the world

if you weren't running off to work on your tan

with a man you hardly know.

What is so dreadful about a man who loves me

offering me the world?

It's not enough.

You were supposed to dazzle.

I'll still keep hunting for stories.

There are always going to be hidden truths to uncover.

But Kingsley comes first?

Is there a reason I should stay?

Yes!

Ruth, I...

I...

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You know.

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Thank you.

For?

Kingsley told me about the hero story.

You had a chance to humiliate him, and you didn't.

- It wasn't for his sake. - I know.

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Well, tell the others it was lovely to see them.

Take care of yourself, Sam.

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Nobody does it better.

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Enjoy the view?

Here you go, sir. Vodka martini.

- You've earned it. - Ahh.

Disgusting! A pint, please.

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- I'm sorry, Sam. - For what?

Oh, her?

Eh, nothing beats a bachelor's freedom.

- Eh, Felix? - Yes, sir.

Felix?

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- What? - Drinking?

Do you not have work tomorrow?

Your face.

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Are you going to introduce me,

or do I have to do everything myself?

Um...

Peggy, Sam, Sister Boniface.

This is...Victoria...

my fiancée.

Well, so pleased to meet you,

and welcome to Great Slaughter.

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