The author now understands what this story is truly about. It's not for any majority of Dark Shadows fans. It's for the fans of all of the other programs who felt cast-out from the Dark Shadows world and the frustration that Collinsport could never change or heal. Well, here I am to prove that it can, for you and I.

Keep up the reviews everyone in all the fandoms. I know I'm posting this earlier than I wanted to, but even after the first day, I'm far more impressed with you than I ever expected to be. Thank you!

Summary:

In the Pit of Ultimate Darkness, Sir Simon once hosted at an Italian Eatery... So here he hosts at another eating establishment...

Maggie is still having flashes of supernatural curiousity, eventually meeting up with Barnabas elsewhere. Meanwhile her father and Capt. Gregg hash out a few details.

David comes across Wadsworth in the woods and they try and devise a plan to find Sarah *without* her usual "London Bridges" tune.

Peter Victoria finally arrive at their new destination, and although spooky and altogether 'ooky, has far pleasanter elements then their last two stops. ^_^

.*.*.*.*.*.*

Pit of Ultimate Dark Shadows Episode 7: "The Blair Warlock… Projected"

Dedicated to Mere ^_^ (& response to kind bestowal of mini candle set)

[Pit of Ultimate Darkness Theme]

MILLIGAN: Good evening! I am Sir Simon Milligan. And welcome once again, to the PIT of Ultimate… DA-A-A-RKNESSSSSS! … Tonight! Conveniently located at the… COFFEE SHOP!

AUDIENCE: WOOOOO!

MILLIGAN: Oh, hose-it, it's not all that great! We don't know if our star performers of this diner will even make a guest appearance.

AUDIENCE: (dejected) Awwww…

MILLIGAN: But, do not lose hope! This diner is famous for its cheap menu, genuine Maritime atmosphere and… its capacity… for evil…

AUDIENCE: (light applause and mellow response) …yay…

MILLIGAN: Excuse me, waitress? Waitress? Wait… oh… see, EVIL! Evil waitress will receive an Unholy tip!

MAGGIE: Oh? Sorry, sir, what did you-?

MILLIGAN: Oh, Miss Evans, forgive me, I didn't realize it was you.

MAGGIE: How do you know my last name?

MILLIGAN: (abashed) Well, I come in here rather often… if, perchance, only to spy.

MAGGIE: SPY? (incredulous) What on earth would you have to spy on in this old place?

MILLIGAN: Oh, only for those quality beverages you happen to serve to the… more deserving?

MAGGIE: Well, I don't know quite what you mean, but I must assume that you… (getting spacey) walk alone upon the path of…

MILLIGAN: Evil!

MAGGIE: Yes, that's right. Well, maybe that's not right-right, but, well, what was it you ordered?

MILLIGAN: Poached eggs on toast, good woman.

MAGGIE: My name is Maggie, Mister M.

MILLIGAN: Are you S-U-R-E?

MAGGIE: Of course, I'm… well, I'm sure I've been called other names, though "good woman" and "Sure" I can't quite recall. Did you want coffee with that, Sir… Simon?

MILLIGAN: Decaf, if you please. I've been a bit stressed out.

MAGGIE: Anything else?

MILLIGAN: Thank you, that will be all – Josette.

MAGGIE: Coming right uh- beg your pardon?

MILLIGAN: (stretching out the French J) J—osette, I mean, Miss Dupres.

MAGGIE: Wait a minute. Have you been talking to my father?

MILLIGAN: Mayy-y-y-be, that depends on which one you mean.

MAGGIE: (snide impatience) Ohhh, I get it now. I bet you're the reason Pop's been so peculiar lately, or maybe you and he have this joke set up to taunt me.

MILLIGAN: What do you mean, Madam?

MAGGIE: Him and that painting, pretending to share a bottle of Med… whatever it's called, and randomly speaking French words when he's barely learned any French in all his life.

MILLIGAN: Oh, no, that's not me. No, I am merely a poppet of prescience in this little sphere. Though you must admit, my addresses to you sounded a… wee bit familiar?

MAGGIE: Perhaps a touch. I'm sure it has something to do with the history of this town, of which I've had to study up for my other job. [bell rings] Now if you'll excuse me, I'll bring in your order.

MILLIGAN: Of course. And for my minions of the transistor, I can allay my fears that all of that confounding dialogue helped to keep her from asking… why my rather large desk has replaced the little booth that was along this wall earlier… Why, what's this? A rolling service?

[low rumbling of rolling wheels and metal cart]

MAGGIE: Your order, sir, poached eggs on toast, decaffeinated coffee and-

MILLIGAN: Manservant HECUBUS?

[audience hoots and hollers]

HECUBUS: Here to serve, Master… i-n-n-n-n satin! And lovingly displayed upon this trolley just… for… you!

MILLIGAN: Och! Hecubus! Not my nose! None of that now!

MAGGIE: (cutesy) Oh, but that adorability in you must be shown affection somehow. As for me, I must return this trolley, so if you don't mind…

HECUBUS: Indeed, and up I go! (steps to ground)

MAGGIE: Enjoy. (Trolley wheels rolling away.)

MILLIGAN: Indeed. And so we must catch up our audience with the Collinsport doings…

HECUBUS: Master, are you going to eat that?

MILLIGAN: (smacking sound) Hands off! Now where were we?

HECUBUS: A fascinating game of cribbage between Doctor Hoffman and Barnabas Collins, and sneaking suspicions of Victoria Winters origins from Elizabeth Stoddard and Roger Collins, Peter Bradford and Victoria Winters escaping The Bates Motel the better to propel themselves forward into unknown territory, AND…

MILLIGAN: And?

HECUBUS: (Stage whisper) The mysterious history of Sam Evans previous lifetime coupled with the ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg of Schooner Bay!

[footsteps]

MAGGIE: Well, I shan't wait anymore. If Barnabas Collins comes in can you tell him I'll be at The Eagle Tavern?

MILLIGAN: Don't you mean The Blue Whale?

MAGGIE: Isn't that what I said?

MILLIGAN: Oh, yes, of course.

MAGGIE: (stepping about) And my unholy tip?

MILLIGAN: Oh! (fumbles through the change in his pockets) There, how would twelve half-dollars suit you? (coins clanging)

MAGGIE: Oh, my! Thank you, Sir! (laughs) I think I know who'll be buying the drinks tonight! (stepping away)

(bell-ringing, door closing]

MILLIGAN: Ah! It's so good to see a young woman in such a happy state.

[mind altering Pit of Ultimate Darkness music]

MILLIGAN: And now, join us, for the continuation of this epic alteration into the Pit of Ultimate Dark Shadows…

[Dark Shadows Theme Music]

MILLIGAN: Welcome back as you've patiently waited through the crashing ocean waves… Henceforth we lead you to! … a telephone call…

OPERATOR: (nasally voice) Number please.

SAM: Yes, can you connect me to Collinsport 4099, please? … thank you… Ha-low! Mr. Peterson? Yes – this is Sam Evans calling… Whad'ya mean WHO? Sam Evans! … You and Miss Stoddard dropped off a painting at my cottage at a late hour so I could clean it… Yes, I *have* cleaned it, but I haven't the foggiest idea who it belongs to, as it is… Uh-huh… Who?... Mrs. Muir? … Has she called you? … Why are you telling me about her dog?... No, just wondering… What?... No… Well, let me put it this way; I don't recall that I was working on anything before you arrived that night… Yep… All *I* know is that Barnabas Collins owes me a whopping sum of deniro… Uh-huh…Well, I'd like you to come by… HUH? You don't have a date with Miss Stoddard? (incredulous) Do you need to? … Oh well, I understand, since it was a dual venture… Well *make* a date with her, old man! (laughs) Jiminy! Do you want ME to orchestrate it and be your chaperone or something?!... Ah, that's fine… (sighs) Well, considering that routine visits to anyone's house and getting them to arrive on time is usually laced with the "oh-wait-but-this" scenario, especially in THIS town, let's shoot for 9:30 tonight. No, no- don't think of it as arriving later! Think of it as SHOOTING for 9:30PM… All right. I'll expect you then… with a huge volume of Proust… Very good! See you then. Good-bye. [clank of receiver ]

GREGG: Andre?

SAM: (startled) Oooph! Phew…

GREGG: I could just tap you on the shoulder, but I suppose it would be just as startling. Tell, me, sir, why didn't you just ask me for Mrs. Muir's whereabouts and where to take the painting?

SAM: Captain Gregg-

GREGG: Daniel, if you please, my good man, don't forget our friendship.

SAM: Well, I do feel like I need to use a title or something since you're always calling me by an ex-name. It's a bit confusing, Captain. I can't say one night of sleep, or even two, would completely merge these past life scenarios I've been putting myself through.

GREGG: Aye, sir. It is much easier as a ghost, I'd say.

SAM: I remember… (thoughtful) you know, I do remember. I suppose, from what you say, (pensive) it was from getting so close to becoming a ghost again, myself.

GREGG: Well, let me tell you, Andre, it's much preferable to me as things are currently. We wouldn't be of much use to each other on my sphere… other than company and sharing old times.

SAM: (snapping to) Yes! I agree. I must say,… Daniel, it does help me to reconcile all the kooky calamities in this town, knowing what I know now.

GREGG: Well, what is on the agenda today?

SAM: Today? I've got to go into town and see if I can find another coffee maker… this darn percolator's busted on me.

GREGG: Why not just get a siphon?

SAM: Oh come, Daniel, that's likely to burst… with all the distraction in this town? Are you shitting me?*

GREGG: Hardly Andre! I haven't the innards… Yes, I agree, a percolator is much safer. But what shall I do in the mean time?

SAM: You're a ghost, you have the ability, go and see that Mrs. Muir of yourn and let her know what's going on… But, mind you! [creak of door opening] you needn't tell her all about MY history.

GREGG: Then what DO I tell her, Andre?

SAM: I'm recalling that imagination of yours, Daniel! You'll figure it out. [door shuts]

GREGG: Blasted Frenchman… though I suppose he isn't so much of one now… hmmm… I shall stroke my beard in consternation.

MILLIGAN: And now we take you to the woods between Collinwood proper and The Old House.

DAVID: (singing) London Bridges falling down, falling down, falling—arg! That's terrible. Just thinking about her makes me want to sing that song. It drives me crazy…

[rustling]

DAVID: (scared) Who's there? Who is it?

WADSWORTH: It is only I, Master David.

DAVID: Wadworth! Oh, thank heavens. What've you got there?

WADSWORTH: Ah, well, let us walk on back to Collinwood and I shall explain.

DAVID: All right.

WADSWORTH: Now, young man, you know that there is a lot of talk about this estate and all the various secretive ideas that go on in Collinsport.

DAVID: Tell me ABOUT it!

[sound of walking through brush and such as they go]

WADSWORTH: I shall and do so thusly. You see, in order to be sure we have our fresh supplies to prepare for mealtimes; we need a number of delivery services. However, this estate with its history and tales among the neighbours, the men who deliver these goods are a bit squeamish to come here. We do have one service for the main house and another for the old house. They brave the estates uncertain dramatic structure, though neither brings the same goods and either one lack the courage to deliver to both. So, this is my usual daily walk to make the exchange with Mrs. Johnson. You see?

DAVID: Oh, yes! In fact, it's been nice to see you. It's like there is a basic pattern as you go, something to rely on, as well. Do you enjoy working here, Wadsworth, or is it only a job to you?

WADSWORTH: Only a job? Ha! No, Master David, it presents me with puzzles, and the challenge of bringing a sense of order to each home I've worked for. As for working here especially, I find it quite pleasant. Such places are beginning to dwindle, I'm afraid. But what about you, sir? Do you have a delivery exchange of your own?

DAVID: No, not really. I'm just walking around in the woods trying to find a… strange friend?

WADSWORTH: Elusive, Master David?

DAVID: Yes! Elusive! With all the town talk and not going to the public school… not that I'd want to, really, it's not like I have a lot of friends.

WADSWORTH: Indeed. I can understand. But that song you were singing.

DAVID: Oh, don't remind me… I am so sick of that song. I wish I could get her to sing another one.

WADSWORTH: Her? You mean Sarah?

DAVID: Say, you know about her?

WADSWORTH: I know of her, certainly. Her knowledge of music must range from very long ago, Master David. I would wager it would be wise to entice her with a song from… well, one that was known about two centuries past.

DAVID: (dejected) Oh, how can I find out about those? If I hear "London Bridges" one more time I'm going to explode.

WADSWORTH: Ah, yes, Master David that is a tough case. I wonder if she can be persuaded to remember another song…

DAVID: Incense and Peppermints?

WADWORTH: Oh, no she wouldn't know that one, I'm sure.

DAVID: Or Penny Lane?

WADSWORTH: No, no… I… hmm… pennies… Ah, there's the house. Let's go in and see about some old sheet music, though I mustn't stay long.

MILLIGAN: And while Wadsworth and Master David are wracking their brains over various tunes we return to Victoria and Peter… on the opposite coast.

[car door slam, bird tweeting]

VICTORIA: This is it?

PETER: (proudly) This is it!

VICTORIA: Looks like a corner brew-pub from the British Isles.

PETER: Huh?

VICTORIA: The way an entrance seems to stick out of the corner. Not to mention all the fog that's only emitting from the sides of this house in particular.

PETER: Well you haven't been inside yet.

VICTORIA: Peter, if I had to pick between Twin Peaks and the Bates Motel, I'd say this was a good deal in-between. Have you got the letter?

PETER: Of course, why do you ask?

VICTORIA: It's always good to arrive with an invitation… darling…

MILLIGAN: From inside the house!

GOMEZ: S-A-Y! I heard the word "darling".

MORTICIA: *gasp* It must be our newlyweds, Gomez! Oh, my, I think I'm going to cry.

GOMEZ: Nonsense! You cry at weddings! These two have already been married.

MORTICIA: Yes, you're right, my dear. Must keep a stiff lower-lip.

GOMEZ: That's the spirit.

[sounds of a fog-horn, which means the doorbell has been rung. Door slowly creaks open. Peter & Victoria beginning to scream but are so frightened they don't get very far from the start.]

GOMEZ: Oh, do beg pardon! It's all right, Lurch, I should greet our guests.

LURCH: (standard esophageal groan and receding footfalls.)

GOMEZ: Welcome! Please come in! It is Peter Bradford, is it?

PETER: (vaguely relieved) Yes, sir and you are Gomez Addams?

GOMEZ: (boisterous) In the flesh, and hopefully not too fresh! And you must be the blushing bride!

VICTORIA: Yes, Mr. Addams. Oh, well, thank you. I don't think I've had my hand kissed since we left home weeks ago.

GOMEZ: Ah, and now I must introduce you to my lovely wife, Morticia.

MORTICIA: Welcome, I've looked so forward to meeting you! Please, Victoria, come and have a seat. We have cocktails all waiting.

VICTORIA: Oh, are they supposed to steam like that?

MORTICIA: Of course. Now, Victoria Bradford, is it?

VICTORIA: Actually, no, I've been keeping my maiden name.

MORTICIA: Oh? So your name is?

VICTORIA: My name is Victoria Winters.

HECUBUS: Yes! She's finally said it!

MILLIGAN: Truly, now we must hush!

MORTICIA: Oh, my! That is indeed chilly! Lovely! I'd have a hard time giving that one up, too.

VICTORIA: Well, the real reason is that I want to make sure anyone who might be related to me can find me. You see (abashed) I'm an orphan.

MORTICIA: An orphan?!

VICTORIA: Oh, please, I hope that hasn't shocked you.

MORTICIA: An orphan! Gomez, darling! This fine lady is an orphan!

GOMEZ: Oh, is she? Marvelous! All the rage, you know.

PETER: Are you serious?

GOMEZ: Of course! Here, have a cocktail.

PETER: Uh, is it very strong?

GOMEZ: Of course! No skimping on that account.

PETER: (sipping with extensive cough of exhale)

GOMEZ: (backslapping) There, ya see?

MORTICIA: Have you truly no idea of your background or parentage, my dear?

VICTORIA: None whatsoever. I'm glad that's not a problem for you.

MORTICIA: Hardly! It's romantic, isn't it?

VICTORIA: I suppose… it would be romantic to find a splendid past, but now it's such a mystery.

MORTICIA: And what brings you out here?

VICTORIA: Oh, the place where we use to live. You see there were a lot of troubles there. It was a very prominent town.

MORTICIA: Where was it?

VICTORIA: Collinsport, Maine. I'm sure you've never heard of it.

MORTICIA: OH!

VICTORIA: You mean, you have heard of it?

MORTICIA: Yes (brooding) quite a place, indeed.

VICTORIA: I hope it's no reflection on us.

MORTICIA: Quite the contrary. From my knowledge everyone there has full, rich lives, but continually they pretend otherwise.

VICTORIA: Pretend? Oh, well… I… never thought of it that way. Is that a shawl you're making, Mrs. Addams?

MORTICIA: Why yes… not quite finished. Do you like it?

VICTORIA: Well, it is a bit Victorian…

MORTICIA: Than YOU shall have it!

VICTORIA: ME?

MORTICIA: Yes, your name sake, you said so yourself. And it'll prove to keep you warm in the cold and cool in the warm.

VICTORIA: Well, thank you very much… now what were you saying about the residents of Collinsport?

MILLIGAN: Switching back to the residents of said Collinsport! And in the evening…

[door knocker echoes, door opens slowly with a creak]

CAROLYN: (happily) Welllll! How are you, Mr Peterson?

TONY: Pleased to see you, ma'am! May I come in?

CAROLYN: Certainly! (elated) Come in to the drawing room.

[footsteps, drawing room doors shutting]

CAROLYN: Have a seat (hair swishing) Just checking to see if the coast is clear.

TONY: Oh? (smile in the voice) Whatever for?

CAROLYN: Oh, stop! Ever since we went on our shenanigans mission…

TONY: Feeling like a kid again, eh?

CAROLYN: (laughing gasp) Truly! Oh, my gosh! How about you?

TONY: (sighs happily) Yep… I have to say after going through depositions most of the day, I kept smiling at the thought of all that… and you. (peck noise)

CAROLYN: Thanks. You know, it's funny. I've had some wild times in the last year or so, but when I'm with you… for some reason I notice this more innocent-ticklish side to me comes out.

TONY: Well, you know why that is, don't you?

CAROLYN: Because, so far, our dates have turned into spontaneous scenarios?

TONY: Well, that, too. But, I don't know if you remember (clothing swipe) how I felt about you?

CAROLYN: Ohh! I remember you telling me.

TONY: And then I remember seeing you with Buzz later-

CAROLYN: OLD HAT! Like I said, those wild times… and now.

TONY: Things are better?

CAROLYN: Definitely more fun! I will say that! Not a crazy fun, but, a sort of… mysterious one.

[Old clock dings nine times]

CAROLYN: There goes Old Quaverton- Nine O'Clock and alls-well…

TONY: Old Quaverton?

CAROLYN: Oh, (brief giggle) that's the clock.

TONY: (incredulous) You named your clock?

CAROLYN: Oh, I didn't! It's a family tradition. Much under-used lately, as I come to think of it. It's had mechanical problems over the decades; used to make a quavering ring when I was little. Actually, it tends to repeat that problem until someone fixes it. It's been in this house since the first day it was lived in.

TONY: And the time is accurate?

CAROLYN: Well, Mrs. Johnson used to phone the time & temperature every morning, but I noticed that Cousin Barnabas's valet, Wadsworth, has been doing it when he comes by in the mornings, sometimes. I know it gets checked regularly. So, yes. I believe it's very accurate.

TONY: Very good! So…

CAROLYN: So…?

TONY: Would you do me the honour of…

CAROLYN: Another date? Tonight?

TONY: (slightly abashed) Of course…

CAROLYN: Hmm! (self-assured) That depends- is it a Bowling Party, or a Square Dance, or a Record Concert?

TONY: Or a Swim Meet, or a Weenie Roast, or a Museum Field Trip?

CAROLYN: Or a Bike Trip To Rock Point? Or an Art Lecture?

TONY: (laughing) Ah! No it's none of those! But darn it! You are as amazing on the inside as on the outside. I can't take it-

[Thud on cushions]

HECUBUS: W-o-w! Master! What is that?

MILLIGAN: That is a pouncing make-out scene on the Davenport… and we're NOT zoned for it.

HECUBUS: Oh, well- let's enjoy it!

MILLIGAN: As do they!

[General make-out noises and silences ensue, doors opening and then approaching footsteps]

ELIZABETH: Having FUN?

[Ticklish hoots and gasps]

CAROLYN: Oh, Mother!

ELIZABETH: Carolyn, as an upstanding member of this community I would expect… (pauses & sighs) Oh, nevermind… (under breath) At least it's not Buzz…

CAROLYN: Mother… are you, are you? (giggling) Look! She's laughing!

ELIZABETH: (trying to hold it together) I'm not laughing. That's just a… a…

TONY: (slightly nervous) A simper?

ELIZABETH: Exactly, Mr. Peterson. Perhaps, I am… lost in a personal memory.

TONY: Should I be worried?

CAROLYN: P'shaw.

ELIZABETH: Mr. Peterson… I can only ask…

TONY: Yes, Madame?

ELIZABETH: You needn't be so formal.

TONY: Oh, yes, erm, pardon me, Mrs. Stoddard.

ELIZABETH: I can only ask… well, how do you feel toward Carolyn? Is it honourable?

TONY: WHAT? Seriously? I can assure you my intentions are quite honourable. If a little tipsy.

CAROLYN: (playful surprise) Mr. Peterson!

ELIZABETH: And would you call it… love?

TONY: Well, Mrs. Stoddard, how about adoration? I certainly have that.

ELIZABETH: Ah, it'll do. Besides I overheard a bit of the conversation. Sounds like you two express some genuine affection between the in-jokes. As uplifting as all this is, though- (flustered) my goodness… don't young people do these things in automobiles now?

CAROLYN: Not if we think the doors are closed.

ELIZABETH: Well, that is true; I did rather two-handedly thrust both doors open like a matron-of-the-manor.

CAROLYN: You are matron-of-the-manor, Mother.

ELIZABETH: You know what I mean… It's just as well you have arrived. I need a lawyer to go over some property rights.

TONY: Oh? Well, that is kind of you to consider my skills, but we-

[Door knocker whaps and all respond with a jerk.]

ELIZABETH: (recomposes herself and sighs) I suppose I'll answer that, as matronly as I am and without enough house-staff.

TONY & CAROLYN: (hand covered snickers)

[door opens]

SLICK MALE VOICE: (boisterously) Ah! Mr. Collins! I should have recognized you any… wuh, where… erm—(confused) wait a minute! You're not supposed to…

ELIZABETH: Not supposed to what? Open my own door?

SLICK MALE VOICE: I'm sorry, I'd heard you were… well… that you'd sadly passed away. Mrs. Stoddard, is it?

ELIZABETH: (NOT amused) Yes! And I haven't passed away, and the presumption in my doorway is rather disturbing as I don't know who you are to begin with.

SLICK MALE VOICE: Oh, I AM sorry, madam. Please accept my heartfelt apologies.

ELIZABETH: Accepted (under breath) with reservations.

SLICK MALE VOICE: Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Nicholas Blair.

ELIZABETH: (A pause.) You say that as though it's supposed to mean something to me…

BLAIR: (boisterously) Cassandra's brother!

[Threatening scene music… which chokes and dies away.]

ELIZABETH: Hmm…

BLAIR: Hmmm?

ELIZABETH: Quite a surprise… an extraordinary surprise. Do step in… mind you, that is NOT an invitation, just a courtesy.

BLAIR: (self-assured) Oh I imagine—(again confused) Wh' … huh?

ELIZABETH: Carolyn?

CAROLYN: Yes, Mother?

ELIZABETH: This is Cassandra's brother. Can you find your Uncle and tell him he has a caller?

CAROLYN: Oh, all right. (wanders off)

HECUBUS: (bated breath) Master… is he? Is he? OUR Master?

MILLIGAN: (sighs) No, I'm afraid not. He's fairly well-off in the realms of Tartarus but beyond that-

HECUBUS: (confused) He's not… Satan?

MILLIGAN: (resignedly) No… and believe me, we are not alone in the disappointment of it.

ROGER: What's all this, then? Oh, fine attire! Gloves, even. Well, aren't you just the dandy?

ELIZABETH: Roger, this is Cassandra's brother, Nicholas Blair.

BLAIR: It is good to see Collinwood. Cassandra has written me so much about it.

ROGER: (incredulous, vague interest) Oh, has she? Could I get you a drink?

BLAIR: (regaining slickness) No, no… I don't have… little vices.

ELIZABETH: Mr. Blair, this is Mr. Peterson.

BLAIR: Oh, how do you do?

TONY: How do you do?

BLAIR: (self-assured) You seem familiar. I think Cassandra mentioned you in her letters also.

TONY: (gratefully) Oh, no, that must be mixed up with someone else.

ROGER: Now, let's get to these papers.

ELIZABETH: Yes, Mr. Peterson, please stay, we may need your skills in this matter.

TONY: (under breath) Yep, this is was Mr. Evans meant by the oh-wait-but-this scenario…

ROGER: You see Mr. Blair, Cassandra has been missing and I have the documents here from this envelope.

[Papers fluttering.]

BLAIR: I don't follow.

ROGER: Well, I'm in the middle of an annulment.

BLAIR: (angered) Annulment? To Cassandra? On what grounds?

ROGER: (unfazed, almost bored) Oh, abandonment, being under the influence, ahem! lack of consummation, (coughs) Deception and of course, clandestinity.

BLAIR: But this is absurd! I was sure my sister was safely on this estate, but if there is this mockery going on-

ROGER: Will you please sign here?

BLAIR: Absolutely not!

ROGER: Well, in that case, we have no further business.[rustles papers back into envelope] Cassandra has been missing for weeks, and I'm of the understanding she shan't be back.

BLAIR: (seething) This is preposterous. I expected a man of your stature to grant me-

ROGER: Oh? A man of my stature to grant you… what? A house on the estate, rent free? Sitting around waiting for my soon to be non-wife to make a convenient appearance? No. If you are not going to help with this I must ask you to leave.

BLAIR: (appealingly) Mrs. Stoddard?

ELIZABETH: This way, Mr. Blair.

[footsteps and door opening]

BLAIR: (utterly confused) But-but-but, where shall I stay? Can you give me no inkling of where she might be?

ELIZABETH: (pleasantly) Well, she IS your sister, Mr. Blair. You yourself might have a better deduction of her whereabouts. We've hardly known her for the month she was here. And if you insist on staying in Collinsport, there is the Collinsport Inn.

BLAIR: Well, I-

ELIZABETH: Good evening, Mr. Blair and good luck!

[door shuts and there is a collective, though understated, breath of relief]

TONY: Well that was just plain bizarre.

CAROLYN:( (happily) I'll say, but terribly nice to see for a change.

ROGER: Yes! Very good, Sister.

ELIZABETH: (indignant satisfaction) Oh! I've been dying to throw someone out of this house since those nasty nightmares came into it. Roger will you please pour me a brandy?

ROGER: Certainly! Mr. Peterson?

TONY: Oh, no. I think we'll be going soon.

ROGER: Kitten?

CAROLYN: Hmm? Oh, no thank you, Uncle Roger. We must be going.

ROGER: Well, enjoy your date, you two.

ELIZABETH: And Mr. Peterson. We'll be hoping for your sound advice involving a piece of property soon. I hope we see you again in short order.

TONY: Of course, Mrs. Stoddard. Mr. Collins…

CAROLYN: Good evening!

EVERYONE ELSE: Good evening!

[drawing room doors close]

TONY: What the devil did we just witness?

CAROLYN: Devil is right, but not a very convincing one. Anyway, where are we off to?

TONY: Well, if that man isn't lurking outside in a vent of frustration, we need to see Mr. Evans.

CAROLYN: Oh! Has he finished the painting?

TONY: I believe so. . . You're uncle has sure changed!

CAROLYN: For the better I hope. He's much more relaxed. Now let's take a peek…

[door creaks open]

TONY: Do you see him out there?

CAROLYN: No. Do you see him?

TONY: No…

[wind whistling]

CAROLYN: Race you to the car?

TONY: On your mark… get set… GO!

[Door slamming shut and racing footsteps]

MILLIGAN: Meanwhile, the evening progressing, we take you to Eagle Tav- I mean, The Blue Whale!

[Noises of glasses tinkling, conversation, low music…]

BOB: Hiya, Maggie! What'll it be?

MAGGIE: Rum & Cola, Bob.

BOB: Ah, well (liquid pouring) not your usual poison.

MAGGIE: No, but I'm feeling a bit… different… tonight.

BOB: Here you go, Maggie. (slide of glass across bar) and , oh, wow, half-dollars. Any special change? Dimes and a nickel or?

MAGGIE: Just a quarter. I'll need it for the jukebox.

BOB: Right-o, (register shuffles and dings) here you are. (clank of quarter)

MAGGIE: (sipping) I'll be putting in my song. If a dashing Old-World gentleman with a cane wanders in, can you point him in my direction?

BOB: Ah, sure, Maggie. Not a big crowd tonight anyway. Looks like it's just you and me so far.

MAGGIE: I noticed that, too. Worried about losing your usual earnings?

BOB: (laid back) Naw, it's nice to finally have some quiet around here. I gotta say I barely make even sometimes having to clean up the joint with all the fist-fights and KNIVES I'm used to seeing in this place.

MAGGIE: (laughing) Uh-huh, I remember hearing about how gruesome it gets, but then again, even a good drink has that effect on people.

BOB: True. I should'a listened to my dad when he mentioned getting into tailoring.

MAGGIE: You and me both.

BOB: Really? Ah well. Any seats open to you here. You just enjoy yourself.

MAGGIE: Thanks, Punchy.

[footsteps, music begins to fade, plunk of quarter into mechanical regions, ka'chunking of jukebox buttons. Low sigh.]

BARNABAS: (usual sensuous appeal) May I have this dance, Miss Evans?

MAGGIE: (quick inhale) Aw… Mr. Collins … I thought you'd never ask…

[sound of glass and cane to table… "Sleep Walk" by Santo & Johnny plays]

BARNABAS: Can't say I know this type of music very well…

MAGGIE: Doing well so far… I'm able to follow.

[slow dancing footsteps]

BARNABAS: Feeling well, my dear?

MAGGIE: Now, that you're here… (swish) nice change.

BARNABAS: I know a few dances… with this playing out, I've got to guess.

MAGGIE: (steps and sniffs a giggle) Yep, this seems a bit of the tango…

BARNABAS: … ah, that's what you call it…

[music continues without dialogue six measures]

MAGGIE: Did you come here from the coffee shop?

BARNABAS: No… I knew… I had a feeling you were here instead.

MAGGIE: Ah… and had the urge for a dance with a working girl?

BARNABAS: Oh… you are… much more than that.

[music-plays out, "Misty" by Santo & Johnny plays, chairs rustle]

MAGGIE: Ah, that was refreshing. Reminds me of something… not sure what…

BARNABAS: Don't you?

MAGGIE: Now, what does that knowing grin mean?

BARNABAS: Just… enjoying the company.

MAGGIE: Not missing the coffee shop?

BARNABAS: No, are you?

MAGGIE: No.

BARNABAS: My cousin David tells me he's looking forward to having you as his new governess.

MAGGIE: Oh, good! It's always nice to hear of welcome beyond my own talk with him.

BARNABAS: Now tell me, have you worked everything out there and at home?

MAGGIE: (sighs) Well, yes, the manager is fine with my coming in for a few hours after six o'clock. Mrs. Stoddard let me know I needn't make early mornings unless I want to move in. I doubt I'll want to do that.

BARNABAS: Wise decision. And you can always change your mind.

MAGGIE: Quite… and I wanted to ask you… I'm going to get a bit confounded, I think. Which Mister Collins shall I keep calling Mister Collins?

BARNABAS: I hope it isn't me.

MAGGIE: Even on the estate?

BARNABAS: Even there. If anyone finds it inappropriate then… oh dear.

MAGGIE: What is it?

BARNABAS: (slightly irritable memory) Well, I was going to say have them discuss it with me, but then there were those conversations I dread.

MAGGIE: Oh, if it isn't convenient-

BARNABAS: No, it's not so much that, but… remember before Wadsworth arrived?

MAGGIE: I do. It's almost like the wind changed direction. I know it didn't but…

BARNABAS: It seemed like everyone on the estate and beyond, we all had these inanely indefatigable conversations upon a single point. I just became concerned the conversation style might return on… such a topic.

MAGGIE: Well, let's not have that type of discussion now. I'll call you by your first name or your whole name and if anyone has any trouble I'll just follow their lead.

BARNABAS: Not a problem?

MAGGIE: Well, you've just seen me in action. I can follow a lead. Besides, why would anyone have any trouble? It's not like we're dating or something.

BARNABAS: Oh… we're not?

MAGGIE: I don't remember you asking me out… Now those two.

BARNABAS: Oh! Cousin Carolyn and Mister Peterson? They seem to be in a bit of a hurry.

MAGGIE: Well, they should be. They're supposed to be meeting Pop tonight. But that's not what I mean. Look at how they're almost glowing?

BARNABAS: (winsome intrigue) It is curious. Is that a date?

MAGGIE: It is, but not for that reason. They've planned it out a bit. And the intention is obvious. But that's not what you and I have, I think.

BARNABAS: Oh? Had I too abruptly asked you for a dance?

MAGGIE: Didn't seem like that at the time. I think what we have is a mystery, though. No one could prove, however, that we've been dating. You see?

BARNABAS: Ah! I see now. I understand your meaning.

MAGGIE: And out they go again… But yes, we're friends, with a mystery.

BARNABAS: Would you like to help me unravel that mystery?

MAGGIE: Time enough for that. For now, just keep me company. I want to stay a while before going home. I need to stay out of Pop's way while those two are over there.

BARNABAS: Do you have any idea what's happened to them? They certainly seem as much themselves as ever… alone.

MAGGIE: Yes, it's a bit, oh, a bit of the playfulness. He liked her years ago, and I suspect she was curious about him. Then, of course, everyone goes about graduating school and doing their own thing. So, I guess they have an old spark that finally lit. With that comes all those things they may have played with as kids, but perhaps with the thrill of making those adult decisions?

BARNABAS: Very intriguing. Complex, too. Would you say... they are… making up for lost time as well?

MAGGIE: Making up for lost time? Hmm, yes, I think I would.

BARNABAS: Then I understand entirely.

MAGGIE: Knowingly too, from the looks of it.

BARNABAS: You see through me almost completely, Maggie Evans.

MAGGIE: Do I? I guess it's a knack. I'm hardly trying.

BARNABAS: Keep it up.

[Music fades out.]

MILLIGAN: Somewhere on the road.

[Motor hums]

HOFFMAN: Professor, are you sure he knows we're coming to see him?

STOKES: Of course, I posted the letter three days ago. It shouldn't take any longer than that. Besides, you had to decipher his script to know he was eager to have a visitor.

HOFFMAN: Well, many of our patients are eager to have any visitor. I'm just not sure he understands why this is happening. It might upset his treatment.

STOKES: Doctor, it is part of Mr. Loomis' treatment, I think.

HOFFMAN: (wistful analysis) I'm still concerned about that one phrase. Couldn't figure out if it was a Q or an F.

STOKES: -which is precisely why we're doing all this. That man must learn penmanship.

HOFFMAN: But why penmanship?

STOKES: Well he's got to have something. Something that communicates.

HOFFMAN: What about, well, proper speech? Improve his vocabulary, that kind of thing.

STOKES: I'll approach that side of things, but in writing.

HOFFMAN: (pressing the issue) Yes, but don't you think you should help with his manner of speaking before calligraphy?

STOKES: It is my belief that to try and change that would be pushing him too far. The written word he's at least become curious about since he's had to perform more of it at Wyndcliff.

HOFFMAN: Still, I'm just suggesting… well..

STOKES: Doctor, and I do call you Doctor Hoffman, I am no Professor Higgins, but keep up this line of suggesting and I will be determined to call you Colonel Pickering.

HOFFMAN: (snickers) All right, all right… I must say I'm losing my touch if you could find that association before I did.

MILLIGAN: And our last stop of the night… The Collinsport Inn…

BLAIR: (irritable) How grievous an entrance. A room, a single room. And no Cassandra. This town was supposed to be easier. Beelzebub, what a crock and a half!

DEMONIC VOICE: We told you it wasn't going to be a skip across hot coals.

BLAIR: Oh, don't rub it in. No one to manipulate or insinuate secrets out of. These people are becoming almost blissful in their ignorance. Not only are they not trying to hide anything, but there doesn't seem to be a scrap of guilt or the gut-wrenching worry I expected.

DEMONIC VOICE: You still have to find Angelique. We don't want to lose her.

BLAIR: (sighs) Yes, yes… (grudgingly) I can but try.

[Neil Sedaka's "Little Devil" as outro theme]

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey, little devil

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey, little devil

Hey, little devil, you're always running around (hey, little devil)
It's time that someone started bringing you down (hey, little devil)
There'll be (there'll be) some changes made
Your roving days are through
Hey, little devil, I'm gonna make an angel out of you

They say beware
But I don't care
I love you just the same
You're an old heartbreaker and a mischief maker
But I'm wise to your game

Whoa, whoa, whoa

Hey, little devil, everything is gonna be fine (hey, little devil)
Cause someday soon I'm gonna make you all mine (hey, you little devil)
There'll be (there'll be) no running around
You met your Waterloo
Hey, little devil, I'm gonna make an angel out of you

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, little devil
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, little devil
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, little devil
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hey, little devil

All Due Respect to:

The Kids In The Hall

Clue (1980's film)

Coronet (Instructional) Films

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

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

Santo and Johnny Farina

And of course,

Dark Shadows (1960's TV Show)

*And yes... as I've just discovered... Pop was right. Upon getting distracted watching "Dark Shadows"... my siphon coffee maker just burst... *weep* :(