Yep! I'm continuing ONWARD! You may find this on podomatic, iTunes, wordpress, archive dot org, googleplaymusic and more!
The Pit of Ultimate Dark Shadows Episode 18: Braving The Waters
[Dark Shadows Opening Music]
MILLIGAN: Hello. I am your host Sir Simon Milligan and I bid you welcome… to another edition of THUNDERDOME!
[hoots & applause]
HECUBUS: Well, ain't we a pair, raggedy-master?
MILLIGAN: Oh? I love it when you talk dirty to me, my tedious miscreant.
HECUBUS: I aim to please, Master.
MILLIGAN: (scoffing noise) Fat chance, my menial mongrel.
MILLIGAN: Tonight? We implore the audience to recall episode seventeen and the events that took place as one thing leads to another. The shower of promises… The hope in darkness and politeness. The difficulty is placed between The Evans Cottage and Gull Cottage as Sam Evans whips out the compass Captain Daniel Gregg so fortunately bestowed upon him.
HECUBUS: And off we go… there!
[crashing waves, DS theme music, and the usual…]
SAM: Well, Maggie, I've got his visiting card. Are you ready to meet the ghost of Captain Gregg?
[tapping on glass, harp ripple]
GREGG: Yes? You tapped? Ah! The lady of the household.
SAM: Yes, I thought you two could finally meet… if you hadn't already.
GREGG: Good morrow to you.
MAGGIE: Good morrow, Captain Gregg. It's wonderful to meet a friend of Sarah Collins.
GREGG: Ohhh, I don't know as I am exactly a friend to her. Well, little Sarah is a friend per se, or… more of an admired acquaintance. For those of us in this realm, we do make the effort to help each other.
MAGGIE: As I know, and know too well.
MAGGIE: Yes, Captain. I have discovered I had the capacity to move in the realms of flesh and spirit.
GREGG: So I have heard. A remarkable accomplishment! It makes me feel more at home. Now, is that the reason I've been summoned?
SAM: No, Daniel … erm… It was to make plans for our venture to that Witches abode you spoke of.
GREGG: Andre… not a place I wish to return to.
SAM: Of course not, but I don't believe it will work if I go on my own.
GREGG: Andre duPres, I am not venturing there again—at least not alone and… preferably unseen.
MAGGIE: You won't be alone, Captain Gregg. My father merely wishes you to accompany him on his journey.
GREGG: Still, the fact remains, I may not be welcome in that household. There was a mishap I made a century ago… of which a grudge is held. When I was alive, I skirted the request of a dance by the Witch's mother, I'm afraid, and she was not one to recall that lightly when I ventured to Morning Glory Circle to ask for help.
MAGGIE: Mmm! Yes. And then you were thrown into a spellbinding, something unpleasant.
GREGG: Intensely so!
MAGGIE: I think I understand. Might I invite you to sit down and discuss it with me? I think we have a lot to talk about, you and I. Perhaps the repercussions aren't as dire as you believe.
GREGG: (sighing) Mademoiselle du Pres… it is the principle of the deed.
MAGGIE: I agree. It has to be the principle of it. I think I can persuade you to become comfortable with the principle, Captain.
GREGG: Very well.
SAM: I'll get the Madeira.
HECUBUS: Master? People drink a lot in this series.
MILLIGAN: Is that a problem, Girl-Drink-Drunk?
HECUBUS: Just an observation. I hope Maggie can persuade Captain Gregg to return with Mister Evans for a rendezvous at the Stephens home.
MILLIGAN: As do most listeners. But we must propel ourselves to a late evening on the RMS Queen Elizabeth, in which our Collinwood Matriarch has found a lone piano and allowed Chopin to possess her fingers, as once upon a time.
[Chopin Nocturne, Etude Opus 10, No. 3 song (heard in DS Episode 47)]
BILL: I know that tune.
ELIZABETH: It's one of Chopin's nocturnes... I like to play it now and…
[shifts, music halts]
ELIZABETH: Who? I know that voice.
BILL: Liz? Catchin' sight of you is like finding a port in a storm.
ELIZABETH: Impossible… Bill Malloy…
BILL: Turn around and catch sight of me. I'm sure you'll recognize me. Just like I recognize that nocturne. I remember you playin' it on the piano at Collinwood, the night I died.
ELIZABETH: (steps) It is you… seaweed and all.
BILL: Ayuh. Sorry about the seaweed. It does have a tendency to drop off and leave a mess. You've accepted all the other crazy stuff that's happened to your family, Liz. Why not accept me?
ELIZABETH: (contented hum) I suppose you're right, Bill. You certainly can't be as crazy as most of the rest of it. But why have you come here now?
BILL: I had to come, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. You've arrived within my territory as I am, myself, a drifting spirit on The Atlantic Ocean.
ELIZABETH: Mmm… And for what purpose, Bill?
LILY: (steps) Elizabeth? I heard your playing and I was wondering… oh my!
ELIZABETH: Another ghost from our past. Cousin Lily? This is Bill Malloy. Bill? This is Lily Drake.
BILL: A pleasure, ma'am. You made quite a display against a few deviously intentioned men on this journey.
LILY: (welcoming) Oh? Of course you would know. Ghosts can be anywhere, can't they?
BILL: I discovered we sure can be, as we are in all sorts and all distinctions. Or with endlessly dripping flotsam from the sea, as you can tell with me, more is the pity.
LILY: Yes. I can see you carry a bundle, and quite a nuisance on you, Mister Malloy, covered in all of that seaweed? Fear not. I can make use of myself!
[magic sound effects]
BILL: (Downeaster style gratitude) Why! Thank you, ma'am.
LILY: Very welcome. You see, Lizzie, even the dead awaken at your beauty.
ELIZABETH: (admonishing) Lily.
BILL: Ms. Drake, I haven't grown to revere your cousin without good history.
ELIZABETH: Of that there is no doubt! Bill Malloy? How could you come aboard this… blasted ship—
BILL: Blasted? Sounds like another sea-faring ghost I've uncorked along my way. Do you know him, Liz?
ELIZABETH: What? Bill, I may be a Collins, but I don't number so very many ghosts among my acquaintance-at least… I didn't, until tonight.
BILL: Thank you for adding that, Liz. Glad to hear it… though it may demote me somewhat.
ELIZABETH: Then what are you here for, Bill? I hardly believe it's to wish us a Merry Christmas.
BILL: (chuckling) I always knew that sense of humour was stronger than you let on, Liz.
ELIZABETH: Perhaps I've seasoned a bit around happier people. Now, as much as it charms me to really see you again, why has it happened?
BILL: Liz? It is the same as it has always been between you and I. I want to help in whatever way I can.
LILY: Which is precisely what we need!
ELIZABETH: (sighing) She's right. By now… You likely know about the… indiscretion in my youth, don't you?
BILL: In times of war, the urgency of life is increased. Don't fret so, Liz. I know all about it. Indiscretion is a pat word to use for what happened. Better to have family with you at that time, too. (shifting noise) You are one to regard in high esteem, Ms. Drake.
LILY: Thank you. I like to take some credit for bringing that little girl into the world.
BILL: As well ye should! Now that I've established my presence, I think a good night's sleep is in order for you ladies.
LILY: Oh, no. We have to let Lizzie play out her Chopin, don't we?
BILL: Ayuh. That will do well enough. Will you, Liz?
ELIZABETH: Will you still be here when I finish?
BILL: I'll fade away when the music does, but I will come again soon. Please play, won't you?
ELIZABETH: (smilingly) As long as no ship hands object.
BILL: Fair enough.
[Chopin Nocturne, Etude Opus 10, No. 3 ending proceeds.]
HECUBUS: With that romantic interlude? I am speechless, Master.
MILLIGAN: A welcome sound… if only it would last…
HECUBUS: Perhaps we leave the boat with a repose of what will develop for the ghost of Bill Malloy.
MILLIGAN: Indeed! This carries us forward to another afternoon. A long drive for Sam Evans with the ghost of Captain Gregg to keep him alert behind the wheel. It is only when they reach their destination to The Stephens Home that we must take a glimpse of verbal tussling to propel Captain Gregg forward to face his own inner demons.
[car driving noise]
SAM: I hope Maggie's assured you enough to come this far.
GREGG: I'm sitting here in this automotive with you, aren't I, Andre? Turn here.
SAM: You're sure, Daniel?
GREGG: Very sure.
[Car comes to halt and engines stops, outdoor noises, car door opens and shuts, steps, car door opens]
SAM: So… you're just gonna sit there, aren't you? The mighty sea captain scared of one witch.
GREGG: Andre, you have no idea of the predicament she put me in. If it wasn't for the compass I might still be in that never ending squall.
SAM: Yes, and I've still got your compass, in a safe place, to use and pull you out again, if need be. So what do you have to worry about?
GREGG: (with gravity) She is… formidable…
SAM: Yes, a formidable witch. That makes her precisely who we need to help us with that Bouchard woman. And you're tucking tail?
GREGG: (shamefaced) Perhaps I am merely a ghost.
SAM: Yes, and a stalwart seaman, and I'm the reincarnation of a French Aristocrat turned into a piss-drunk painter whose own daughter had to make ends meet as a waitress for us to survive. I may have come down in the world but I won't be ashamed to admit it.
GREGG: And you are all the better for it, Sam Evans.
SAM: Thank you. Now... if only I had the wherewithal to make you the better for your mistakes.
GREGG: My mistakes? Where did I err?
SAM: Well, as you related on the drive out here? You objected to one dance. One dance, Daniel. That was it. Now that mortal decision is smacking you in the backside and you can't face that. One dance with a lady you had no idea was a witch, but you had an innate sense she was unlike other women.
GREGG: I could see no aristocratic emblems on her to show she had the right to make such a request of me like that. She was brazen. It merely threw me off guard. And it is an unfortunate circumstance for which she now holds a grudge.
SAM: Ahhh- Not only that, it gives you a history with her, who we need to help us. When you think about that? It should make this endeavour even more welcome.
GREGG: (contemplative) Perhaps…
SAM: And perhaps she isn't even in the house at all. Just that Mrs. Stephens you went in search of before.
GREGG: This is currently true from what I can sense. But that formidable Witch could crop up at any given moment. Of that I am sure.
SAM: But Mrs. Stephens is in there, yeh?
GREGG: Indeed, she is.
SAM: All right! (grunts)
GREGG: Andre! Hands clear…
SAM: I needed to get you out of that car and upright.
GREGG: No one can touch a ghost but—
SAM: Another ghost, and I can sure be one. Maybe a little of that astral projection Maggie's got runs in the family. Now… that I've gotten you out of the car and we're standing eye to eye… I tell you that you must come with me.
SAM: Because this Mrs. Stephens likes to hide the fact that she is a witch, doesn't she?
GREGG: Yes. It's a cultural kafuffle to her husband. At least that's the tale.
SAM: So she shan't admit that to me, will she? I'm a stranger, a mere mortal at her door. Whereas you are something she could recognize if you let her see you.
GREGG: Aye, this is so.
SAM: O Captain, my Captain?
[car door shuts]
SAM: After you…
[outdoor noises, steps on concrete, knocking/doorbell, pause, door opens]
SAMANTHA: Hello, may I help you?
SAM: I most certainly hope so! My name is Sam Evans and this is my companion, Captain Daniel Gregg. Might we discuss a matter- in private- with you, Mrs. Stephens?
SAMANTHA: Well, I'd need to know more about the matter first. What is the problem, Mr. Evans?
SAM: Ah, well, Mrs. Stephens, as you can likely see from my companion, he is outfitted rather uniquely.
SAMANTHA: He looks the part of a sea captain, certainly.
SAM: But not a modern one.
SAMANTHA: (slowly) No-o-o-, not exactly. Are you currently looking for a contract, Captain Gregg?
GREGG: Hardly, madam, hardly. In fact I'm not entirely of this world anymore. You can only see me as I am allowing you to see me.
SAMANTHA: Oh? Oh-h-h-h…
SAM: Yes, and the captain had come to call earlier in the hopes of finding you, Mrs. Stephens, but… he came into contact with… your mother instead… I'm afraid.
SAMANTHA: So am I! Do come in.
[steps, door closing]
SAMANTHA: Might I offer you any refreshment, or are you well enough to get to the heart of the matter?
SAM: The sooner the better.
SAMANTHA: That's a relief. Now, I am prepared to take a break from being an average housewife. It's easier when others are willing to come to the point. I can't tell you the awkward conditions I struggle with from week to week trying to fit in among mortals.
GREGG: I can well imagine.
SAMANTHA: I suppose you could. (smilingly) You're a ghost, aren't you Captain Gregg?
GREGG: And you are a Witch, aren't you, Mrs. Stephens?
SAMANTHA: Less practicing, but yes. And how about you, Mr. Evans? Do we share anything beyond similar names?
SAM: (laughing) Oh, I'm nothing but a poor artist who lives in a cottage in Maine. But I was more than that once upon a life.
SAMANTHA: It doesn't show on the outside, Mr. Evans, but I'm seeing a French landowner of old in you.
SAM: If you can see that so quickly you're the Witch that we need. My household has had a struggle with reincarnation and much needs be set to right due to things caused by… a Witch we did not need.
SAMANTHA: (tsk'ing) Mmm… yes, previous lives will thunder their echoes at us the more that harmony is thrown out of balance.
SAM: That is the case in a nutshell. Still, we have a more recent one as concerns my friend and your mother.
SAMANTHA: (cringing in irritation) Not surprising. You should know, to be on the safe side, she might be snooping around listening to every word we say.
GREGG: Of that I have no doubt!
SAM: Er, to put it plainly, Captain Gregg and she had a falling out in the 1860's at a time when he was mortal himself.
SAMANTHA: Uh-oh. Did you withhold one of her fancies, Captain Gregg?
GREGG: I am afraid so, dear lady. She requested a dance from me and I am reluctant to admit that I refused her. If I had known what she was? A simple dance might have helped us now, but mortals know little of these mysteries.
SAMANTHA: (almost whispering in shock) You denied my Mother a dance?
GREGG: Something about her made me suspicious and my mind was weighing with other fretful considerations put upon a seafaring man.
SAM: (under breath) Likely had his eye on some other lady…
SAMANTHA: (giggling) You two gentlemen do go way back. I can see that. (sigh) Now… how to manage this problem…
SAM: And the other one.
SAMANTHA: Which is what?
SAM: Who, Mrs. Stephens, who. Are you familiar with an Angelique Bouchard?
SAMANTHA: Angeli- Ummm…
GREGG: You must be.
SAMANTHA: (nervously making uncertain noises)
GREGG: My good woman… Dropping pretense was your welcome when we came. Admitting knowledge of another Witch should be easy.
SAMANTHA: (usual awkward tone) We-l-l-l-l…
[sounds of Endora appearing]
ENDORA: Is THAT what all this fuss is about? Angelique Bouchard?!
[general shifting and gasping]
SAM: (catching his breath) Yes! Yes, my good Witch. Angelique Bouchard is what all of this fuss is truly about. And we'd be very, very grateful if it could be cleared up!
ENDORA: Cleared up? That Witch is more mischief than my own brother!
SAMANTHA: And then some…
SAM: I am fully versed that this woman we speak of is far beyond mischief. She has been a plague of hostility in our lives. And we come to you both, my good women, whose tribe she is a part of to lend aid in whatever way you can.
ENDORA: (intrigued) How spirited you are, sir. I admire that. It's good to see when one person can blend two lifetimes together so well.
SAM: That's nothing. My daughter is blending more than three as we speak.
ENDORA: Close enough to a Witch in her own right. But Angelique is a tough case. After what she did to Bathia, we have regarded her with disgrace.
SAMANTHA: Angelique did that to Bathia?
ENDORA: Oh yes. She's recovered, thankfully. But it shouldn't have taken half a century to do so! Since then we've left Angelique to the riff-raff.
GREGG: Irresponsibly so!
ENDORA: Ohhhh, Captain Daniel Gregg. I almost didn't notice you. You managed a way out of that seaward peril. You're more indomitable than I thought!
GREGG: As are you. And being so, taking care of a Witch, who you've admitted is one of your own—
ENDORA: Marginally, Captain Gregg, marginally.
GREGG: If she could so vehemently harm another, as the Bathia you spoke of, this Angelique is powerful enough to concern you more than your slippery attention has allowed.
SAMANTHA: He's got a point there, Mother.
ENDORA: Yes, and if you hadn't given up your royal duties, Samantha, you could have squared this away much quicker. It'll take Witches Council to get anything done now.
SAM: So, you will help us?
ENDORA: I haven't said that yet. It's up to your Captain here to make amends first.
GREGG: Me, Madam?
ENDORA: Yes. You have made claim on responsibilities we might have shirked when it comes to Angelique. Perhaps a small example of being responsible is what you could provide me in this instance… just to re-acquaint me with the idea, you understand.
SAMANTHA: How about it, Captain? Time and tide waiteth for no man.
GREGG: Aye, Mrs. Stephens. We must take the current when it serves… Madam?
GREGG: I hereby bestow my regrets and apologies for refusing your request of a dance so long ago.
ENDORA: Heartily accepted!
GREGG: And I would like to add-
ENDORA: Oh? What suggestion have you to make?
GREGG: That we might have that dance at this very moment.
ENDORA: (gratified) Oh!
GREGG: (usual caramel graciousness) Perhaps it will be a more charming experience in the graces provided us in the here and now, would it not?
ENDORA: It would indeed. I suppose I will have to provide the orchestra.
[Thermen Waltz begins from "nowhere"]
SAM: Now isn't that a sight? Those two can dance right off the ground and into the air.
SAMANTHA: (gladly) Oh, I've seen it before, but not for a long time.
SAM: Mmm! Now they've floated beyond the ceiling. Wonder where they went?
SAMANTHA: I can show you. [twinkle-noise]
SAM: Bless my soul, they're headed for the clouds.
SAMANTHA: It's the best for dancing.
[music swells and continues]
HECUBUS: Ah, isn't that a slice of Heaven, master?
MILLIGAN: A dance in the clouds for a ghost and a Witch, and making up for a grudge in their past. It's as polite a gesture as I can imagine!
HECUBUS: But there is another red-head that concerns us beyond Endora, which is Doctor Hoffman.
MILLIGAN: Quite so! As the day strolls by, we return to our romantic duo of Doctor Hoffman and Professor Stokes. They are breezily referencing the record of a new patient at Wyndcliff, Amy Jennings, only to discover she had a sibling beyond the deceased and beloved Tom Jennings.
HECUBUS: And so we venture our audience there, as our collegial couple investigate the records of little Amy.
HOFFMAN: Thank you for accompanying me, Eliot. I wanted your consultation on this new patient.
STOKES: (flipping through pages) It is rewarding to oblige, my dear. Oh… There is another brother Amy Jennings has.
[knocking on door]
HOFFMAN: Come in.
CHRIS: Dr. Hoffman?
[dramatic strings bridge]
HOFFMAN: (in horror) OH NOOOOOOO, TOM! G'AHHHH!
CHRIS: (deadpan) Swell. Here we go… This happens every time… Every time… (sighs)
STOKES: (flipping pages) Oh, yes, see… just what I'd been looking through in the Jennings case. You must be Tom's twin brother Chris.
HOFFMAN: (continues to make terrified sounds)
CHRIS: Yes, sir. I'm Chris Jennings.
STOKES: The resemblance is remarkable.
CHRIS: So I've been told. Are you Doctor Hoffman?
STOKES: Oh. No, I am Professor T. Eliot Stokes. Doctor Hoffman is… erm… Julia? Are you quite all right?
HOFFMAN: (calming down) Oh, oh… his brother… so you are… CHRIS Jennings.
CHRIS: (bad attempt at patience) That's who I am all right. It was bad enough when Tom was alive, but now that Tom has passed away, I can be certain that not only will I be perturbing people with my looks and voice, I get the burden of scaring the living daylights out of everyone I meet!
STOKES: A most unpleasant disposition, I must say.
CHRIS: You're telling me.
HOFFMAN: Well… it's certainly good for me to meet you and know who you are. I suppose you're here to see your sister Amy?
CHRIS: Yes, if you think she's up to meeting with me.
HOFFMAN: Who knows? It very well might bring her out of that vow of silence she continues to pursue since Tom's passing.
CHRIS: Mmm… doing the quiet act, is she?
HOFFMAN: Oh? You're familiar with that behaviour in your sister?
CHRIS: Oh yes, she's always gone tepid in talk when she feels her grievances aren't being addressed.
HOFFMAN: A natural formula for a child.
CHRIS: A natural formula for a Jennings.
HOFFMAN: I wouldn't know about that. However that's your affair with her. I won't argue with you about it. I'll show you the way to her room.
STOKES: You won't be long, Doctor?
HOFFMAN: (smilingly) No. Thank you for asking… Professor.
[door closing, steps]
HOFFMAN: I see you have a gift all wrapped for her.
CHRIS: Yes, I thought of it on my long journey back to Collinsport.
HOFFMAN: I'm sure she'll be elated to have it.
CHRIS: Are you?
HOFFMAN: All right, I'll be honest. That was a pleasantry.
CHRIS: Thank you, Doctor Hoffman. It helps when people are honest.
HOFFMAN: (reflecting) Yes. That's been something I've been noticing a lot of lately. Honesty helping others. Here's the key, Mister Jennings. Please lock the door when you're finished with your visit and come back to my office.
CHRIS: Sure thing. Thanks.
HOFFMAN: You are very welcome, Mr. Jennings.
[door opens and shuts, music: woodwind worries, light tension]
CHRIS: Hello, Amy. Hello, sweetheart. I brought you a present. Do you want to open it? Do you even want to know what it is? All right. I'll open it.
[tearing of wrapping]
CHRIS: It's a box of paints. You still like to paint, don't you?
[sound of box slamming on floor]
CHRIS: Perhaps not as much as you used to.
AMY: Oh, look… weather forecast… cold and clear with a full moon… full moon, Chris. That means you'll disappear like you always do.
CHRIS: Amy… how do you know about that?
AMY: I'm your sister, Chris. I remember. Anyway… You did what you had to do, Chris. You brought me the present. You can go now.
CHRIS: Honey, I didn't come because I had to. I came because I wanted to.
AMY: Did you?
CHRIS: Of course I did. You're still my sister. Don't you think I care about you?
AMY: Are you going to stay?
CHRIS: I'd like to Amy, but I can't.
AMY: (shrill) Then GO AWAY!
CHRIS: Sweetheart, don't cry.
AMY: (weepy) If you're going to go away? GO!
CHRIS: Would it make that much difference to you if I stayed?
AMY: You won't stay!
CHRIS: I'd like to.
AMY: You won't! You won't!
CHRIS: No. I'll stay. I'll change my plans. I'll stay right here in Collinsport so I can be with you.
[Happiness, Romance, Love C music]
AMY: (broken up) You will. Really?
CHRIS: I promise.
AMY: You won't change your mind?
CHRIS: (assuring) Ohhh, I just made a promise. And a promise is a promise.
AMY: (weeping) Oh, please don't leave me, Chris! Please don't leave me!
CHRIS: Amy… it's all right. It's all right.
AMY: (shaky weeping)
HECUBUS: Heart-wrenching siblings, Master.
MILLIGAN: Well observed, my minion. We'll come back to them often, as this series ventures between pain and hilarity. Let us spirit away to a place where the diabolical is part of the usual merry-making.
HECUBUS: Oui-oui! Or so The Addams parents might say on Cemetery Lane.
[Lurch playing harpsichord ("A Little Bit of Dreammusik" by Ergo Phizmiz)]
VICTORIA: My name is Victoria Winters. In this newly acquired residence away from Collinwood the walls shake, but only when the darling children are using explosives, the groans occur, but mainly when the butler is rolling his eyes, there is darkness and foreboding, but as I have learned that is part of the love, and part of the frivolity of this home.
VICTORIA: Goodness, Peter. You seem to be easier about this.
PETER: A-ha! I just figured it out; this place is a high class fun house!
GOMEZ: I could have told you that, Peter… in fact, I think I did!
MORTICIA: I got that volley, Bubula.
VICTORIA: I hope I get an answer... to that letter soon. David Collins can be... a handful or two. I'd like to know how he's improved… by his new governess.
MORTICIA: Of course you would.
PETER: You know it's something Addams and Collins children have in common; no worries about money.
MORTICIA: Oh, we had those worries once years ago. I know I shouldn't have worried but I did advertise fencing and tango lessons. Not that anyone applied.
PETER: Really, Morticia? No one came to your lessons?
MORTICIA: Not a one. I was sure my prices were fair for fencing lessons.
VICTORIA: Well, that's a shame. I enjoy your lessons very much. Keeps me on my toes… or off of them sometimes.
MORTICIA: Thank you, my dear. I do my best.
PETER: (distracted by badminton birdie) That's a far one!
VICTORIA: I've got it!
[badminton birdie knocking noise, wacky supernatural sound effect]
MORTICIA: Oh, see to Victoria!
VICTORIA: I'm all right. I only need to sit down for a spell.
FESTER: Well, don't ask me to conjure one!
GRANDMAMA: Nor I!
MORTICIA: Fester? Grandmama? No one was asking for that kind of spell. Victoria meant a spell of time, a moment of rest.
GOMEZ: Ah, then it all adds up. I'll check on the luncheon now.
MORTICIA: Sit down in this chair, Victoria. Just let the images come as Grandmamma suggested.
VICTORIA: Oh, not your wicker chair, Morticia. This is your throne.
MORTICIA: Victoria… you have a gift and we want you to explore that gift. Whatever chair you sit in is immaterial. Now, I'm going to see to the tea…
MORTICIA: Yes, my dear?
VICTORIA: I'm so glad we found you.
MORTICIA: As am I, Victoria Winters, as are we all.
PETER: I'm right here, Victoria.
VICTORIA: Thank you, Peter. I… I think I need to be by myself for a moment.
PETER: Are you sure?
VICTORIA: Of course. Something is coming clear and… I need to digest it.
PETER: You promise?
VICTORIA: Yes. I promise. Go and be amused by Gomez… whatever he's doing.
PETER: If you insist, darling.
VICTORIA: I do.
[steps out, silence and then pitter pattering of feet]
PUGSLEY: She needs to be left alone, Wednesday.
WEDNESDAY: Go on, Pugsley. I want to help her if I can.
PUGSLEY: All right! I'll be at my blasting caps. Good luck.
WEDNESDAY: Ms Winters?
VICTORIA: Oh! I didn't see you there, Wednesday. I'm sorry. I'm not at my best right now.
WEDNESDAY: Of course not. Some of the greatest queens weren't always at their best either. I know that.
WEDNESDAY: Like Queen Antoinette. She tried to be good to her subjects. She never really joked about letting them eat cake. I found out that that was a lie people made up. But she had her head chopped off anyway. It's so inspiring… like you, Ms Winters.
VICTORIA: Am I? Do I inspire as a queen does?
WEDNESDAY: Oh yes! You have a queen's name too!
VICTORIA: (hums) I suppose I do.
WEDNESDAY: The longest reigning queen of the Empire that ever lived!*
VICTORIA: What a delightful comparison. I rather think… Oh, oh my…
[Time Machine soundtrack "All The Time In The World"]
WEDNESDAY: Why are you holding your forehead, Ms Winters?
VICTORIA: I am starting to see things from my past… that I haven't seen before.
WEDNESDAY: (wondering) What do you see, Ms. Winters?
VICTORIA: I see… a house, an aged house. Something familiar, something I thought was… destined to have been mine.
WEDNESDAY: Is it nice and gloomy?
VICTORIA: Nice and…? You know something, Wednesday? It was. I hadn't thought of that before. A lovely old house has its charms due to some of its gloom, doesn't it?
WEDNESDAY: Oh yes! Doesn't everyone know that?
VICTORIA: I'm afraid not, at least not in what I understand.
WEDNESDAY: What else is the house like?
VICTORIA: It... It's spacious, but not too large. It was like something I'd only seen a year or two ago. But the location and the trees were different. Not as close to the ocean, really… Greener foliage surrounding it.
WEDNESDAY: How many stories does it have?
VICTORIA: Do you mean floors? Oh, two… or three or…
WEDNESDAY: Oh! That makes sense, Ms. Winters.
WEDNESDAY: My brother and I always argue about how tall our own house is. Does yours have three stories or only two? If there is an attic floor, that means it's three stories. But that might be two stories with just a little space for something extra. It's almost like…
VICTORIA & WEDNESDAY: A half floor (laughing)
VICTORIA: I see, Wednesday. I understand. I think it was two and a half stories, yes.
WEDNESDAY: And was it a home?
VICTORIA: What do you mean?
WEDNESDAY: Was the house a home for you?
VICTORIA: I… I think it was. I wanted it to be my home. It felt like it would be, but… I couldn't have it… I couldn't have it.
WEDNESDAY: Do you mean the house you're remembering, Ms Winters, or the home you wanted?
VICTORIA: The one I wanted… I think… no… the one I'm remembering…
WEDNESDAY: It was your home… wasn't it, Ms. Winters?
VICTORIA: That's it… That's it! (breathing, steps, scooping sounds) Oh, Wednesday!
WEDNESDAY: (gleeful squeal)
VICTORIA: You've done it, we've done it! Wednesday, don't you see?
WEDNESDAY: Yes! You are very happy for no reason at all!
VICTORIA: (laughing) You don't understand. There IS a reason! Those houses we were talking about? In my mind they were a single house! That's why I wanted the second one! That's why I loved it so much! Because the one I've been seeing was my home! Just like you told me!
WEDNESDAY: Oh! You saw the home you wanted because it reminded you of the one you used to have?
VICTORIA: Yes! Exactly! (weeping sigh) Exactly…
WEDNESDAY: (nervous giggling)
HECUBUS: What a revelation, Master!
MILLIGAN: Yes! A revelation which will leave us hanging! Our Ms Winters longs for a home she dreamed to have as she also longs for a home she used to have and… either explanation… pretty much tells us nothing!
HECUBUS: It tells us we have a newer mystery than the ones we've put to rest!
MILLIGAN: Perhaps THAT is a little bit evil… although it rather leaves me… annoyed…
HECUBUS: Which means we must venture forward to another scene which will distract us away from it.
MILLIGAN: It damn well better!
HECUBUS: It damn well leads us to Chris Jennings attempting to hide his personal affliction in the quietest room of the Collinsport Inn!
[door closing, foot steps]
CHRIS: Excuse me…
WELLS: Yes, Mister Jennings.
CHRIS: I wanna change my room. Is that possible?
WELLS: A' course, but is there something wrong with the room ye'have?
CHRIS: Oh, no, no, it's just… it's a little noisy that's all, you know—
WELLS: OH! Say no more! I hear ya, sir. That guy with his grandmother…
WELLS: (resignedly) … growling and howling, knocking into the walls, slamming the doors, chanting, stumbling about and moaning in bizarre voices. I heard it, Mister Jennings, I know what you mean! Gettin' tired of that racket myself…
CHRIS: Oh… oh… well… yes, exactly. And… I do a lot of writing. I have to have absolute quiet. I want some place that's very isolated away from that stuff.
WELLS: I see… yes… writing… a lady not too far away feels the same way. Too bad you hadn't leased Gull Cottage before she did. You would'a been sittin' pretty with that place for privacy.
CHRIS: Gull Cottage? Is that in Collinsport?
WELLS: Nah'p! Schooner Bay, some miles about the coast from here.
CHRIS: Uh-huh… Well I, uh… I noticed in the back a window up at the top. Is that room vacant?
WELLS: Oh, yeah, but guests never occupy that room. It's much too tiny. It's too inconvenient.
CHRIS: Is it the most isolated room in the place?
WELLS: Wel- Yes, I suppose it is.
CHRIS: Then I'll take it.
WELL: But, Mister Jennings, when you see the room-
CHRIS: No-no, I'll take it…
WELLS: (grabbing key) Well I'd better show it to you, then you can make up your mind…
(steps up, door opens)
WELLS: This is it!
CHRIS: This is fine.
WELLS: But Mister Jennings, it's so dark in here with that grill over the window, and it's so stuffy in here, I'm sure you'd be more comfortable—
CHRIS: Th-this is fine. Really.
WELLS: But it's so dreary and morbid.
CHRIS: Well… so am I. [*]
WELLS: (Staggering for words) Eh, to be honest, Mister Jennings… this room is filthy.
CHRIS: Well, I LIKE filth! [*]
WELLS: All right, sir—heh, if it gets y'away from that 13th room, Ah, don't blame ya. Those Blair creatures got a knack for being more rowdy than the damn Shriners!
CHRIS: Oh? The Shriners seemed pretty reasonable.
WELLS: Next to The Blairs? Who wouldn't be? You want your luggage transferred up here?
CHRIS: In the morning. Right now, can you do me a favour?
WELLS: What's that?
CHRIS: Lock me in here. And another thing. If you should happen to hear anything during the night, any noises, I sometimes move around and act out when I'm writing. It kinda gets me into it. Don't pay any attention to anything you hear.
WELLS: Huh! After the other guests around here you can trust me to steer clear of any noise, Mister Jennings. (chuckling noise) You should be at Gull Cottage, sir.
CHRIS: And please! Be sure to lock the door from the outside.
WELLS: Yeah, a'course, sure. Want me to stick a chair beneath the knob, too?
CHRIS: (endearing gratitude) Oh, would you?
WELLS: Sure! If you're so into a barricade. Heck, I just appreciate someone who wants privacy away from bothering the OTHER guests. After what I been through, I ought'a encourage it.
CHRIS: I'd appreciate that.
[closing of door, locking of door, many muffled knockings in barricading of door, not necessarily in that order… Stepping down to the lobby…]
SAM: (vaguely intoxicated singing) Wouldn't it be nice if we were older?
Then we wouldn't have to wait so long
And wouldn't it be nice to live together
In the kind of world where we belong?
WELLS: That's a pretty modern song you're singing tonight, Sam.
SAM: Ah-h, isn't it, Good Innkeeper?
WELL: Mmm… "Good Inkeeper" … hardly *good* in a technical sense. I just barricaded a man in his room after he begged me to do it. I'm not sure what I got myself into but it has to be a sight far better than dealing with those Blairs continually wreaking havoc in number thirteen.
SAM: Just wanted to get that off your chest, did you?
WELLS: Eh-h, who else did I have to tell? Now what can I do ya'for, Sam? You didn't get kicked out of the house by Maggie just to take a room here, did you?
SAM: (jovially) No, I was being celebratory tonight, I'm afraid.
WELLS: Sam Evans, when aren't you being celebratory? I can smell the… (sniff) … what is that? Madeira?
SAM: Meh, just a little whiskey.
SAM: I heard that Jennings boy was taking room here and wanted to offer a payment for his reservations. He might not have all the cash flow.
WELLS: (peeringly) Oh, and you do, eh?
SAM: Right now, yes, I do! The Jennings might have a little collateral but it's always good to cushion the blow for previous occupants returning to Collinsport.
WELLS: Mmm, it's just as well. I was so welcoming to Mister Jennings wanting to keep quiet I have yet to charge him for the boxed-in room up there.
SAM: Ah, then here is the chunk of change to make the difference. (thwack)
WELLS: Five twenties? That's a lot more than I needed.
SAM: Good. So take it.
WELLS: All right. (shifting, locking noises)
[howling from afar]
SAM: Mmm… Just another dog in the night, isn't it?
WELLS: If I kept dogs up there. (stepping sounds)
SAM: (tiredly) Wells? Don't bother going up there.
WELLS: Heh, after what I've gone through? I'm pleased as punch to stay down here and away from that racket.
[Wolf like growling noises]
SAM: Mister Wells? You ever have that feeling like somebody just walked over your grave?
WELLS: (hollowly) Sam… you don't know how true that is… (sniffing, stepping) Sam, what are you really here for, anyway?
SAM: Five twenties didn't cover it, eh?
WELLS: Oh! Yeh! I almost forgot with that little… distraction.
SAM: And you put those away. Now? How about a cup of coffee with me for the road?
WELLS: Sam? I thought you'd never ask…
HECUBUS: Master? That's rather anti-climactic. Was that the ending to this episode?
MILLIGAN: Yep! There is plenty more to come, of course… but wait… who is that out in the audience? Looks like your hand is raised to ask a question.
MR TIZICK: I'm not asking you, Milligan, I'm TELLING YOU! I am CRUSHING YOUR HEAD, I'm CRUSHING YOUR HEAD, I'M CRUSHING YOUR HEAD! (blowing) Like PUTTY in my HANDS! These… SPOOKY BOYS!
HECUBUS: He isn't so polite, Master…
MILIGAN: True! But we could use him!
MR TIZICK: Manservant Hecubus?
MR TIZICK: You may keep your rounded head, I SPARE YOU!
MILLIGAN: What about me?
MR TIZICK: Who died and made you God of Collinsport, FLATHEAD? I CRUSH YOU!
MILLIGAN: (doofus groan)
SAM: So? How is that Mildred Mayhem doing?
WELLS: Oh! Millie? Well, have I got a story for you… Y'know about those postcards?
SAM: Oh, do tell! (sipping)
WELLS: Ah, seems that the printing press that Mildred caters to had some… questionable… business with…
["Wouldn't It Be Nice?" by The Beach Boys]
All Due Respect To:
The Kids In The Hall
The Ghost & Mrs Muir (1960's TV show)
The Munsters (1960's TV Show)
The Addams Family (1960's TV Show)
Bewitched (1960's TV Show)
The Beach Boys "Wouldn't It Be Nice" tune (Please buy it!)
And of course
Dark Shadows (1960's TV Show)
…as well as all the old classic books Dark Shadows was always ripping off… Thank you!
[*] Jokes from DS Annotations used with kind permission.
*In 1968 Queen Victoria was still the longest reigning Queen of England.
You know it seems the more we talk about it
It only makes it worse to live without it
But let's talk about it
Oh, wouldn't it be nice?
1) What did you enjoy with this encounter as Captain Gregg meets Maggie and they go over the details of what must be broached?
2) How did you enjoy the verbal tussling and discussion between Sam Evans and the ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg as they manage their way to the Stephens front door?
3) What did you enjoy in Samantha meeting Sam Evans with Gregg and her taking a break from being an "average housewife"?
4) The question of knowing Angelique Bouchard finally falls into the equation. How did you enjoy Samantha and Endora's response to the back-history? What about Captain Gregg's method of making up for his previous treatment of Endora?