Summary:

At Wyncliff, Dr. Hoffman and Professor Stokes visit with Willie Loomis to introduce an added element to his treatment.

Tony and Carolyn arrive at the Evans' Cottage on to discover there is more to the painting of Captain Gregg than they thought at first.

Peter and Victoria analyze their hosts relationship and its glowing health, however odd their household is.

Nicholas Blair encounters a few surprises in search of Angelique, who he eventually finds. (I believe she wants to argue the point of love versus sex but is too wiped out to bother.)

Tony and Carolyn wrap up the evening in more or less steamy enjoyment.

Meanwhile, Barnabas and Maggie arrive at the Old House after their non-date, with a little trouble of their own.

Pit of Ultimate Dark Shadows Episode 8: "A Long Awaited Trip to the Passion Pit"

Dedicated to Tony & Carolyn, 'cause they're so hawt right now!

[Pit of Ultimate Darkness Theme (not in the podcast because I can't find it)]

MILLIGAN: Hello. I am Sir Simon Milligan, and welcome to the Pit of Ultimate Darkness… Tonight we dive into the diseased human soul. Join me in studying this rainbow collection of fog. Within us are several personalities. For example, are any of us the same person when we go from the grave and back to the cradle discussing our histories with our parents? Well, we are, rather, but then, they don't always like hearing about it… Just an example. You see, in the normal soul these personalities are integrated and carrying on afresh with the most recent incarnation. However, in the freakish...Collinsport soul, these personalities splinter, forming separate and distinct people, living within a single body… I know… it's a bit hard to grasp, but let us move forward. Now, join me in welcoming my brimstone baby, Manservant Hecubus.

[Hoots & Applause]

HECUBUS: Good evening, Master.

MILLIGAN: Good evening, Hecubus. Do you have anything to add to the repertoire of the Collinsport soul?

HECUBUS: Well, it's mainly that most of the inhabitants have indeed reincarnated, except perhaps one.

MILLIGAN: Hecubus? Everyone's been someone else there at least three times! How can you say that?

HECUBUS: What about your old bridge partner, Master?

MILLIGAN: (unhappy recognition) Oh, him, yes, that is a bit of a trial for the old bloke; Always wrestling through a sea of familiar faces with different names. Even he has been thwarted with a split in his own personality.

HECUBUS: You mean how he used to be the villain of this show with S&M tendencies and a completely different historical memory than what Victoria Winters experienced in the past?

MILLIGAN: Yes, Hecubus. Being stuck in a chained coffin for 170 odd years can do that to a fellow. And we must praise such a trial… it is… rather… evil.

HECUBUS: And now to continue with our story of tragically uncertain continuity!

[Dark Shadows Theme Music]

MILLIGAN: Professor Stokes and Doctor Hoffman have arrived at Wyndcliff Sanatorium… which resembles a stately home, rather than the brick habiliments one would normally associate with such a place. Stokes and Hoffman await a nurse to escort him to the waiting room.

[doors open, footsteps]

HOFFMAN: Thank you, Miss Jackson, you may leave. I'll let you know when we need you again.

NURSE: (flippant fatigue) Of course… I'll just be across the hall… reading my Marilyn Ross novel…

WILLIE: (deliberate solemnity) Oh, y-you'll let me know what happens, won't ya?

NURSE: (assuring) Don't worry, Mr. Loomis. I'll give you a full report of Jan Davis' experiences.

[doors closing, brooding Dark Shadows flute music]

HOFFMAN: Hello, Willie. How are you feeling?

WILLIE: I… we… we had potatoes today.

HOFFMAN: Really? What kind?

WILLIE: Mashed… but, I think they said they were white.

HOFFMAN: Wouldn't they be?

WILLIE: Well, y'see… they… they weren't russet potatoes… so…

HOFFMAN: Oh, you mean the potatoes themselves were white, not just the mashed potatoes.

WILLIE: Yeh, so, it was nice.

STOKES: Do you mean, Mister Loomis, that they didn't taste like dirt?

WILLIE: Yeh… say… do I know you?

STOKES: We have exchanged letters.

HOFFMAN: Oh, please allow me to introduce you… Willie Loomis, Professor Stokes.

WILLIE: Oh, pleased to meet ya… I think…

STOKES: Likewise, Mister Loomis. I have been looking forward to this.

WILLIE: Have ya? Stokes… wow, that does have a familiar ring to it.

STOKES & HOFFMAN: Oh?

WILLIE: Well, let me see a minute… let me think… Like it was… someone Barnabas Collins talked about.

HOFFMAN: You remember Barnabas Collins?

WILLIE: Yeh… yeh, I do… I remember the Old House.

STOKES: Pleasant thoughts about it?

WILLIE: (thinking) Well, I, well… I have a few…

HOFFMAN: How many?

STOKES: (incredulous) Doctor Hoffman, please… do you want him to count them?

HOFFMAN: Shouldn't take long.

WILLIE: Well… yes… I have several…

HOFFMAN: You see, seven… he has seven pleasant thoughts about it.

STOKES: I believe he said several, Doctor. That's a quite a bit above a few.

WILLIE: Yeh, that's what I said. Several, any number really.

HOFFMAN: And can you describe one?

WILLIE: I worked… on things… antique things. Things that I had an understanding for, y'know? Like the old stove.

STOKES: See, Doctor? Likes working with his hands… hands on things.

HOFFMAN: Willie, Professor Stokes and I would like to add something to your everyday routine here. Now you can say no if it's asking too much.

WILLIE: Well, I… Ask away, Doctor Hoffman.

HOFFMAN: Would you be willing to learn… well, a new writing style?

WILLIE: A new…? Well, (gentle laugh) Doc, I-I already know how to write.

STOKES: Yes, Mister Loomis, but we're looking to help educate, or rather, help advance the technique you're currently using.

WILLIE: Advance? What's wrong with it now?

STOKES: (nonchalantly) Ohh, just a few slight alterations to help the legibility of your style, you understand.

WILLIE: Eh? You think what I got isn't good enough now?

HOFFMAN: Oh not at all.

WILLIE: Doc, why – why don't you just tell me? Do I got a problem with the way I'm doing it now or-or-or-or not? C'mon now. Don't think I can't take, 'cause I tell ya, I can.

HOFFMAN: Willie, I-

STOKES: Mister Loomis, there is something about this that we all know.

WILLIE: Oh, yeh? What is that?

STOKES: A man, any man, can improve himself into realms of distinction and integrity that he never assumed himself to achieve.

WILLIE: (laughing) Ah… ah, y'see? Y'see, Doc? I understood what he said. He may have said it above what you thought I could figure out. But I know it. I know what he said.

HOFFMAN: What did he say, Willie?

WILLIE: He said, that no matter what I've already done, I can do better.

HOFFMAN: And do you want to? Do you want to learn?

WILLIE: (laughing) Ah… ha… well… yeh… sure. Why not, right? What do I have to lose? I'm stuck here anyway… right?

HOFFMAN: No, Willie, you are not stuck here.

WILLIE: But what'm I gonna do in the meantime,eh?

STOKES: Exactly, Mr. Loomis. What shall you do in the meantime?

WILLIE: Well, I'll find out what happened to Jan Davis in Nurse Jackson's novel, don't forget. But… but aside from that?

STOKES: And are you willing to work with me or anyone I send to you for this?

WILLIE: A'course. What am I gonna get, anyway? Foolscap or vellum?

STOKES: (pauses) You know about those?

WILLIE: Of course I do.

STOKES: You see, Doctor? He's already aware of the intricate details in this fine art.

WILLIE: Eh, is that what they call it… fine?

HOFFMAN: All right, I admit it. You could knock me over with a feather.

WILLIE: Feather… yeah, that's for a quill, isn't it?

STOKES: Oh, (laughing) you see, Doctor? Our Mister Loomis is going to do just fine.

MILLIGAN: Meanwhile at the Evan's Cottage, Captain Daniel Gregg & Sam Evans are waiting for Tony Peterson & Carolyn Stoddard to arrive.

GREGG: Lor! That is a mighty volume.

SAM: Ah, yeh. I figured we'd have time to read it while we waited. I, myself, have only gotten through the first paragraph of the overture.

GREGG: What's the title?

SAM: Remembrances of Things Past.

GREGG: (laughs) What a choice!

SAM: That wasn't the reason I picked it out, Daniel.

GREGG: But still, Andre-

SAM: Say, if you do put in an appearance tonight, don't go calling me Andre while the kids are here, will ya?

GREGG: Oh! Yes, consider my hatch covers secure, old man. Now, do press on.

SAM: (reading) "I would ask myself what o'clock it could be; I could hear the whistling of trains, which, now nearer and now farther off, punctuating the distance like the note of a bird in a forest, shewed me in perspective the deserted countryside through which a traveller would be hurrying towards the nearest station…"

GREGG: Not bad, not bad… did this book have another title?

SAM: Yes, À la recherche du temps perdu.

GREGG: Ha! In Search of Lost Time! Even more fitting!

SAM: For which? The two of us, or the people I told you about? Or the town? Or you?

GREGG: All of the above. Please, keep reading, my friend.

SAM: (reading) "…the path that he followed being fixed for ever in his memory by the general excitement due to being in a strange place, to doing unusual things, to the last words of conversation, to farewells exchanged beneath an unfamiliar lamp which echoed still in his ears amid the silence of the night; and to the delightful prospect of being once again at home."

GREGG: Lovely… I do miss a good pipe about now…

[knock, knock, knock]

GREGG: Andre, you're going to introduce me, aren't you?

SAM: If you make yourself known, Daniel. I don't have much control of that.

GREGG: No, you don't.

SAM: So help me out here.

GREGG: Of course.

[magic noise of Captain Gregg disappearing, door opening]

SAM: My god…

TONY: Oh, sorry, we were just having…

SAM: An inside joke, of course, I can see that.

CAROLYN: (giggling) Sorry, Mr. Evans, we're a little distracted.

SAM: As well, you should be… well come in! Come in! You two…. My goodness, have a seat.

CAROLYN: Thank you, Mister Evans… oh… I can't sit down…(enthralled) here's the painting, all cleaned and it looks almost brand new!

TONY: I'll say, look at that.

SAM: Ah, thank you. It comes with the job, don't you know?

CAROLYN: Oh, Mr. Evans, I've seen you do this before, but w-o-w, this is so good. This must be how it looked the first day it was painted.

SAM: And you would know that… because…

TONY: She has that, well you know, that I don't know what.. that…

[magic noise of Captain Gregg appearing]

GREGG: That "je ne sais quoi…"

TONY & CAROLYN: (startled) AH!

SAM: (sighs) Sorry, I guess I'll need to introduce…

GREGG: No need, Andr -erm, Mr. Evans. I am Captain Daniel Gregg.

TONY: Where did you come from?

GREGG: Well, as my good friend tells me… the mesosphere…

CAROLYN: What? You mean of the Underworld, or something like that?

TONY: (rash disbelief) See here, what is this? You can't be a ghost!

GREGG: I'm afraid I am, but don't be alarmed. I mean you no harm.

TONY: (alarmed) But how can we see you? How can we hear you?

GREGG: Because I wish it!

TONY: Uh-uh, I don't believe this for a moment. This must be some trick.

GREGG: Oh, well, if you'd like me to prove it…

[Thunder crashing, streams of rain pelting down outside]

CAROLYN: Ah!

GREGG: Does that help?

CAROLYN: Can you- can you halt it as well?

GREGG: Certainly.

[Thunder and rain subside almost immediately]

TONY: (deep breaths)… Holy… mackerel…

GREGG: Well, they are a handsomely prolific type of fish, but holy? I'll have to think about that.

TONY: No… no… I mean, it… that… that accounts for a lot.

CAROLYN: He's the man in the portrait, the old portrait…

TONY: That's why Mrs. Muir kept speaking out of turn…

CAROLYN: She was talking to you.

GREGG: (happily) Ah-ha-ha, yes. My, it is refreshing to hear someone else understand that. (slightly abashed) Poor woman, I suppose I don't make things very easy for her.

TONY: I certainly thought I'd had some surprises tonight.

SAM: Ah, no doubt, Mr. Peterson, no doubt… Hmm? Why, what surprises have you… (quickly concerned) whoa, there. Have a seat, you two. You both look a bit faint.

CAROLYN: I, uh, thank you. I'm so chilled I could wrap myself in this crocheted afghan, instead of just sitting on it. (quickly concerned)

GREGG: I DO apologize, here now, deploy your anchors.

TONY: Don't mind if we do.

GREGG: Spot of the Madeira, good fellow.

SAM: Ah, yes, here. I already prepared it on this possibility.

TONY & CAROLYN: Oh, thank you. (both sipping)

SAM: Let us know when you're quite all right.

TONY: Can you pour again? I have to admit-

CAROLYN: -this is just… so unbelievable…

SAM: In this town? It's not that unbelievable. Well, no, sorry. I've had to come to terms with it for almost a week now. I guess I have a better grasp. Still, you two did thrust this painting on me at an inopportune moment. It wasn't until later I found out that he was attached to it.

TONY: Is that so?

SAM: Oh, yes. The captain and I have been talking a lot and many of my cleanings were based on his knowledge, not just my expertise.

CAROLYN: How extraordinary…

GREGG: Have you calmed down?

TONY: I think so.

GREGG: I wanted to know… What other surprise had you two had?

CAROLYN: Oh, that one… (takes a breath) it turned out good. My mother threw a strange man, Cassandra's brother, out of the house.

SAM: Mrs. Roger Collin's brother? Hoo, boy.

TONY: Yes… you were right, Mr. Evans. With all that going on I'm surprised we made it here on time at all.

SAM: (light chuckling) It's true, it's true.

GREGG: Yes… I've come across that oddity, as it were. Anyway, do describe this gentleman.

CAROLYN: He appeared fairly aristocratic. Dark hair, grey suit and gloves…

GREGG: Moustache?

TONY: Why yes, he did.

CAROLYN: He called himself Nicholas Blair. He was looking for Cassandra, claimed to have received letters about us and Collinwood. Of course, she's been missing.

GREGG: Aye… doesn't sound at all ship-shape to me.

SAM: Hardly… how did all that come to pass?

TONY: Oh, well-

CAROLYN: (snickers behind her hand)

TONY: (bemused) What?

CAROLYN: You were asking me…

TONY: (recognition) Oh!

GREGG: (knowingly bemused) Hmmm… I smell more than the standard romance here…

TONY: Then of course, Mrs. Stoddard walked in.

SAM: (also knowingly bemused) I see… got caught necking, did you?

[A pause, and then Carolyn & Tony begin cracking-up, helped by the fact that they're trying not to. Sam Evans and Captain Gregg begin to laugh as well.]

CAROLYN: It was pretty good, if awkward. Mother began one of her lectures-

TONY: I'd call it an injunction-

CAROLYN: You would, and then she gave it up in a sort of hopeless, careless fashion, and I swear, she was starting to laugh herself, until I began pointing it out.

TONY: Then a knock startled us and that's when she opened the door for Mr. Blair. Then Carolyn went to get Mr. Collins and he asked Mr. Blair to sign some annulment papers rather quick to which he became angry and was swiftly seen out the door. I can't recall a time Mr. Collins and Mrs. Stoddard cooperated so fast.

CAROLYN: I'm not sure I've seen it either and I live with them!

GREGG: Who is this Cassandra?

CAROLYN: She married my Uncle Roger and then seemed to abruptly disappear. The truth of the matter is she was posing as a complete innocent, but I'm sure she was after Cousin Barnabas. Everyone picked up on it except Uncle Roger. Even Mrs. Johnson did!

GREGG: Ah… this Cassandra, she was the one in the other painting.

CAROLYN: I know… I'm sorry Mr. Evans, I don't know what came over us.

GREGG: I do. I saw it.

TONY: Did you?

GREGG: Yes, and I'm sure you were coming to the conclusion that you did, b-u-t it always helps to make a little metaphysical suggestion. I didn't like what I saw in that painting.

TONY: (resignedly)I suppose we'll have to bring it back.

SAM: Good grief, no! I'd rather have nothing to do with it ever again. I'm not even sure Barnabas Collins should know where that thing is. Now… I want us to reach an understanding.

TONY: Yes?

SAM: Everything concerning this is likely all right. But there is something I want the two of you to know, before you become further involved with each other.

GREGG: Or either of us.

SAM: You don't know, do you?

CAROLYN: Know what?

SAM: When you transferred that other painting with this one, yes?

CAROLYN: Yes… Mr. Evans. We did and I'm sorry if it interfered with your plans.

SAM: It did and… sit still… because I want to thank you.

TONY: Thank us?

SAM: Yes…

CAROLYN: (surprised) Why?

SAM: Miss Stoddard? Mister Peterson? You changed paintings on me… and I don't know if you realize it… but… you likely saved… my life.

TONY & CAROLYN: We did?

SAM: A bad woman came here later, looking for the painting that you took.

CAROLYN: Did she? Cassandra?

SAM: I don't know for certain who she was… but you… and this gentleman here… you all changed things for us… for everyone. And I want you to know it. I was blissfully unaware of where it was, I wasn't even in my right mind, I'd say. But if I had known I'm sure she would have done something very nasty to me. So it's a warning… if she comes looking for you.

TONY: Point taken!

CAROLYN: No kidding! So… Are we taking the painting back to Gull Cottage?

GREGG: Ohh… well, I wanted to let you know… I think tomorrow is more suitable.

TONY: Oh? How do you know that?

GREGG: I was there earlier and, well, let's say our Mrs. Muir is winding down from another bout of frustration with my blasted… well, her landlord. It can wait 'til tomorrow. To go now would be warming the bell as it were. With what you've had to go through, I'd say some relaxation is in order, salvage what's left of the night.

CAROLYN: I dunno. Collinsport can get pretty wild on a Friday night.

TONY: Wilder than this?

MILLIGAN: And so if one was wondering what became of Victoria & Peter's encounter among the Addams Family household, well, let's say they made it through the day and are now reflecting on it.

PETER: [whispering] Vicky? Vicky?

VICTORIA: Shh! Don't disturb anyone.

PETER: In this house?

VICTORIA: Keep whispering, if even just for me.

PETER: (whispering) All right, Victoria.

VICTORIA: Sit down here.

PETER: Peeking through the balustrade, again, my little witch?

VICTORIA: Don't be obtuse-

PETER: Sorry, Vicky. (sits beside her) I suppose all the mileage never helped us to discuss what we've been through.

VICTORIA: It's all right, Peter. And you're correct. I did enjoy peeking at things… I wasn't supposed to… back then.

PETER: And this time in a much more fetching nightgown, I'd wager.

VICTORIA: (barely audible giggles) Yes… I can't say what I wore back then I could call cotton.

PETER: It was cotton, but I know what you mean. It was the soap or lack there of… Chaffed me to high heaven. This century is much nicer… even here.

VICTORIA: Peter, I know it's been really, well, odd? Weird?

PETER: How about bizarre and disturbing? That Uncle Fester…

VICTORIA: Oh, (sighs) so he can light bulbs in his mouth? He's wants to amuse. He's not like Cassandra, or Jason… Gracious, I come to believe he's happier than Willie Loomis.

PETER: I can only take your word for that.

VICTORIA: Peter… look at them…

PETER: They're fencing…

VICTORIA: (mystified) No… they're not, Peter. They're dancing. They've had two children already. And they're dancing.

PETER: Well, they're dancing now. They were fencing a moment ago. And what difference does it make that they've had two children and still dance together?

VICTORIA: All the difference. You and I… we've experienced two distinctly different centuries.

PETER: I wish we'd talk about it.

VICTORIA: Let's do now. Marriages… they're not all they're cracked up to be, really.

PETER: No, not the ones we've seen.

VICTORIA: Exactly- but look at Morticia and Gomez. They are terribly unconventional.

PETER: (sighs) It's true. But, Vicky… are you getting at the fact that they…

VICTORIA: … Peter, do me a favour and say it.

PETER: As strange as that couple is, they're… still in love…

VICTORIA: Exactly, Peter. And that's… that's what I want. I want us, wherever we go, whatever we do… I want us to have this.

PETER: You want to take fencing classes?

VICTORIA: (snickers) Oh… stop… Well… you know, maybe someday. It's something to do, right?

PETER: Yes… what harm could there be? Could be fun, heck, it might be handy. I think I had a few lessons but never had a chance to continue. See, there they go again.

[Fencing swords clashing in the background.]

VICTORIA: (Light inhale of idea) Peter, you dear… that's it. That's why we're here.

PETER: (not getting it) . . . to. . . get marriage counseling?

VICTORIA: No… Everything is hard too pick out and understand. There are a few things we could get used to.

PETER: Um… truly?

VICTORIA: Well, what I mean is, if we know we were going to stay an allotted amount of time we could really do this.

PETER: How long?

VICTORIA: Well that's just it. While we're here we learn fencing.

PETER: (incredulous) From them?

VICTORIA: (smilingly assured) Yes, Mr. Bradford, yes.

PETER: That's… not…

VICTORIA: Not what… cost-effective? Did you think I had the funds for a proper school, not to mention the equipment?

PETER: (sighs then snorts) Yeh, Dr. Lang didn't exactly leave me the world's biggest paycheck.

VICTORIA: I was surprised he left you anything.

PETER: Me, too. But I guess he must have felt pretty bad about his rotten treatment of me. A three year pension was nice, even if it is limited.

VICTORIA: And my funds aren't exactly lasting either.

PETER: Victoria, do you really want to do this?

VICTORIA: I do.

PETER: All right. You know I can hardly resist it when you put those two words together.

VICTORIA: For better and for worse.

PETER: And for weird.

VICTORIA: C'mon, let's go back to bed.

MILLIGAN: And along the wharf of Collinsport… If there's more than one… well… pick your favourite!

[sounds of wharf, seagulls, ocean waves, an occasional sea lion barking or flopping, footsteps along the wharf]

BLAIR: (still griping) Hmm… frosty evening… and misty… and damp… ugh… certainly not the atmosphere I'm used to.

LADY: (breezy) Howdy, sugar, lookin' for some company?

BLAIR: (suddenly cheerful) Oh, good evening. You must forgive me, I am looking for a woman, but I sense she- well, what I mean is-

LADY: Nice hat, but I'm on for a different tip. What kind of woman are you after?

BLAIR: Well, I sense she is rather downtrodden, perhaps even age'ed.

LADY: (breezy assurance) I can be that, I can be whatever you-

BLAIR: Ah, I'm afraid you're looking for a sailor-

LADY: (displeased) -what? Another sailor? You don't look it.

BLAIR: No, I mean, I'm not a sailor- but I would like to reward you with some information.

LADY: That's it? Just information? I'm a bit new here. This isn't the most lucrative port on the coast. I grant you.

BLAIR: I'll say. In fact, I'm surprised to see any… lovely ladies out here at this hour. I was told it was rather dangerous.

LADY: Oh! That. Nope, the biz has gotten better since all that blood-letting strangler-nonsense quieted down.

BLAIR: Oh?

LADY: Yes. There were some running wolves and some crazy bats and some hawkish features roaming the neighbourhood, but sources say its easy sailing here again.

BLAIR: Really… that's interesting. I guess there's a few… erm… compatriots along the wharf tonight?

LADY: Oh! Looking for a party, are we? Well, not tonight. I work alone. And I think I would be far better alone than working with that other straggler.

BLAIR: Huh? Who?

LADY: Don't kid me, she can't be the gal you're looking for.

BLAIR: Who is this lady?

LADY: She's out at the end there.

BLAIR: And she not… doing well?

LADY: Hardly well at all. She doesn't even have a cane. Just a stick. Looks like the end of an old broom.

BLAIR: Really? Here.

LADY: Huh? What's this for? Whuh- why… That's Ben Franklin!

BLAIR: No kidding. Don't spend it all in one place.

LADY: I'll say I won't! Don't you even want-

BLAIR: Hush money!

LADY: (gets it) Oh, I see. I'll be off then.

BLAIR: Do… (walking out on to the wharf and whispering) Cassandra? Cassandra? Grr… Belphegor… show up, woman…

[thumping noise of stick to wood]

BLAIR: Cassandra… Cassandra?

[footsteps, more thumping of stick to wood]

BLAIR: Angelique…

[thumping stops]

WITHERED CREATURE: Who speaks that name?

BLAIR: Heh, you should know me.

WITHERED CREATURE: Nicholas? Nicholas?

BLAIR: Well it's about time! Where have you been?

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: Falling to pieces, shtupid.

BLAIR: Oh, really, stupid am I?

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: (fed-up) Give a woman a hand, you fool!

BLAIR: Of course, here. (sniff) EW! Unholy Medusa, you smell ruinous!

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: I noticed that, too.

BLAIR: You smell like a moldy old rug… and… rotten boards… and

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: -stale jars of jam, I know. Just help me along. You're used to such nasty smells, aren't you?

BLAIR: That's not a broomstick, what is that?

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: No, I'm pretty sure it's sassafras.

BLAIR: (amused) Oh, for those diseases…

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: What?

BLAIR: Some witch you are.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: I was one once, until I got involved with-

BLAIR: Excuse ME?

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: Never mind… what took you so long?

BLAIR: You didn't make it easy… sister.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: (amused) Oh, am I your sister now? How reassuring.

BLAIR: So near the sea, who did you want, Davy Jones?

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: (croaking chuckles) Oh, Nicholas, you haven't gotten square with the times!

BLAIR: Oh, hush. Musical icons come and they go. Demons are eternal.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: So, did you get a nice place?

BLAIR: I got a room at the Collinsport Inn.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: WH-AT?

BLAIR: O-What did you expect? They threw me out. . . I know, I don't get it either.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: But, that family is so… so… paranoid.

BLAIR: Apparently not anymore. And what did you think? Really? Just- oh hold on, I'm sick of this.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: What?

BLAIR: Just take this!

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: Oh, thanks. Better your cane than that silly stick.

BLAIR: (laughing)

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: What is it?

BLAIR: You came out here to destroy a man with a cane and now you need to walk with one.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: Oh, twist the knife, why don't you?!

BLAIR: Honestly, woman. We do have affection for animal lust in the Kingdom of Hell, but really, that is ALL you want and only from one person. You said you wanted to destroy him and I know for certain that you don't! All you want is SEX from that man! You don't care about anything else. Even in Hell we have standards, Angelique, and you're not even living up to those.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: I know, I know. I'm doing my best.

BLAIR: I knew it wasn't going to work out. I knew it from the 18th century.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: (grumbling) You self righteous bastard! What did you have to go on?

BLAIR: (pause) Your name.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: (sighing) How did they even pick you, anyway?

BLAIR: I was at the top of the list. See, we're almost there.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: Good… In this weakened state, is there even anything we can do for amusement?

BLAIR: (snorts) We can play Bloody Mary.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: (shuffled pause) Play Bloody Mary… Won't that piss her off?

BLAIR: (opens door) Exactly… you can go first.

WITHERED ANGELIQUE: (limping forward and chuckling) You're such an ass, Nicholas.

NICHOLAS: (low laughter) Almost, my sweet, but they picked me out of Pleasure Island in time.

HECUBUS: (sighs) Aw…

MILLIGAN: ( maudlin) Yes… so evil… (Recomposes himself) Well, now we head back to Carolyn and Tony Peterson exiting the Evan's Cottage.

[door shutting, crickets in the distance]

TONY: Well that was NOT just plain bizarre.

CAROLYN: Nope, that was definitely above the average bizarre. So whad'ya think?

TONY: Hmm?

CAROLYN: We could go and see a movie.

TONY: (incredulous) After all that? You want to go see a movie?

CAROLYN: Not specifically.

TONY: Ok-a-y, not a specific movie, then what specifically?

CAROLYN: How about Drive-In-The-Woods?

TONY: Drive-In-The-Woods? Isn't that rather a wayward option?

CAROLYN: Well, that's the story, but the thing is Sheriff Patterson didn't mind its being built the better to leave deputies around the woods of it and pick up the un-desirables.

TONY: Really? So what would you call it beyond them meeting a quota?

CAROLYN: A new-fashioned make-out point.

TONY: (intrigued) Oh? Really?

CAROLYN: Of course, if this was a date, I'm still looking for the date part. Besides, I'm so (flustered) over-excited… I feel like I… want…

TONY: To throw yourself into something? Me too… still, I'm not sure… about…

CAROLYN: Though we'll likely have to pick a 2nd feature. It's almost 10 O'Clock.

TONY: (light sniff) Heh… well… What the hell?

….

MILLIGAN: And while this romantic liaison continues, we lead you to some late arrivals at the Old House. A kindly servant has assisted both his employer and a fair damsel from a bit too much at The Blue Whale.

WADSWORTH: Have a seat here, whoop, right there sir, and madam-

MAGGIE: (tired out) I'm all right, I think. Thank you, Wadsworth.

WADSWORTH: I shall return shortly with the tonic.

BARNABAS: (groggy) He brews the best of everything.

MAGGIE: I hope so. (tired laugh) I don't plan to reprimand Pop again. Never mix the grape with the grain.

BARNABAS: That barkeep stocks a strong port.

MAGGIE: As I've been discovering. Oof. I had my rum & cola already, I dunno why I tried that, too.

BARNABAS: Oh, dear, don't you go falling down looking after me, sit down here.

MAGGIE: Thanks, it's a bit snug, but I'll take it. (sighs) Well we're a sorry pair, aren't we?

BARNABAS: Oh, these things happen. Though, I must say I haven't experienced it in some time.

MAGGIE: (tiredly) Me neither. I think with the right atmosphere, the mild shore noise, and the right company; it does invite the spirits to flow.

BARNABAS: (tired sniggling) Flowing spirits… I see more than one way of looking at that observation.

MAGGIE: (also tired) Oh? Well, (deep breath) just settle in. And you tell me all about it, eh?

BARNABAS: Perhaps I'll try and… (yawns)… perhaps I shall get it right… this time.

MILLIGAN: And so we depart our couple of re-acquaintance to eventually nod off on a love seat before the fire. We leave you to speculate this as we return to our other couple who are approaching the local, yet woodsy, Drive-In movie theater.

[motor hums and calms]

CAROLYN: What the heck? Where's the ticket booth usher?

TONY: Maybe they don't bother with admission this late? Hmm, just a sec…

[shift of vinyl & squeaking noises]

CAROLYN: Hmm? What are you grabbing? Oh… do you always keep those under the seat?

TONY: Nah, it was an appreciative client. I almost forgot about it. (reaching out car window, aluminum can noise hitting a countertop)

TONY: This will do.

CAROLYN: (surprise) What? You're leaving him a Pabst?

TONY: Why not? Ticket booth operators have needs.

[motor revs forward]

CAROLYN: Oh, try that one, to the right.

TONY: What do you think it is?

CAROLYN: Looks like a film of music concert …

TONY: Oh, hey, is that Mama Cass?

CAROLYN: You know her?

TONY: Well not personally.

CAROLYN: (recognizing) Oh, I think I've heard of this one.

TONY: Just music?

CAROLYN: More or less.

TONY: Perfect or no?

CAROLYN: Yes, go ahead and park- well, dodge the beer bottles over there.

TONY: Got it… what a scene. Flip on the station.

[motor hums, rolls and eventually turns off. Last bits of The Mamas & The Papas "Creeque Alley" is heard on the radio…motor shuts off, squeak of vinyl seat, window rolling]

TONY: What are you-?

CAROLYN: Rolling down the window, just a crack.

TONY: (sportive) Why?

[airplane landing noise, and guitar strumming]

CAROLYN: (also sportive) Why do you think?

[squeak of upholstery, not so subtle make-out noises while "California Dreaming" ensues…]

HECUBUS: (surprised) Oh, master, what is more audacious?

MILLIGAN: (as though shaking head) As of now I… just don't know…

HECUBUS: Can we leave them… alone?

MILLIGAN: No.. I think we need to…

HECUBUS: (cheerfully) Watch over them, Master?

MILLIGAN: (also cheerful) Well, don't let them know it, my minion! Besides, this is a good movie. Six more songs and we get to see Eric Burdon & The Animals perform "Paint It Black".

HECUBUS: I'll bet you an Obol those two come up for air before that song.

MILLIGAN: An Obol? A genuine Charon Obol? (pause) You're on!

[last chorus of "California Dreaming" continues as ending credits theme]

All Due Respect to:

The Kids In The Hall

Clue (1980's film)

The Addam's Family (1960's TV Show)

Marcel Proust

The Ghost And Mrs. Muir (1960's TV Show)

Monterey Pop (1960's film) & musicians therein

And of course,

Dark Shadows (1960's TV Show)

[apologies to anyone who really loves russet potatos]