Show: Pushing Daisies - 1x3
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-r
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-r