Season 2 Episode 4: The Sweet, Sweet Taste of Death

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Rudyard Funn runs a funeral home in the village of Piffling Vale.

He used to run it by himself.

He doesn't anymore.

But though Antigone has more to do, her talents remain undervalued.

A chance encounter with Agatha Doyle may grant the key to her salvation.

Assuming that nothing goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Wooden Overcoats by David K.

Barnes.

Season 2, episode 4.

The sweet, sweet taste of death.

It was the end of another working day, and Antigone had spent a long afternoon observing her brother doing business at the Piffling Market.

She was reacting as well as you might might expect.

Rajad, I don't want to be seen with you ever again.

Oh, that suits me, but I think you're overreacting.

I've never been so embarrassed.

You liked those flowers?

I liked those flowers.

It's standard practice to haggle on price.

Not when it takes five sodding hours, it isn't.

Well, Petunia is a tough cookie.

By the fifth time she burst into tears, it began to feel cruel.

But I got her to £4.50 in the end.

They only cost two pounds in the first place.

Yes, but she paid me to go away and leave her alone.

That's quite a result.

Rajad, it took you 300 minutes to buy one bunch of flowers that were alive when you started out and dead by the time we left.

It was a counterproductive waste of time.

I suppose you had better things to do.

I could have developed embalming fluids.

I've nearly finished the one that makes the body smell like a blueberry muffin.

Thus it'll just make them want muffins we can't afford to give them.

Now, who's being counterproductive?

All we've got now is some very dead flowers and a lifetime ban from the Pipling markets.

You're going to have to ration those flowers for as long as you can.

One petal perfume will do it, I'd say.

I cannot work like this.

Our funerals are extensions of ourselves.

They're our message to the world.

Look, we get the body in the coffin in the ground on time.

That's our message to the world.

Where's the beauty?

Where's the feeling?

This is exactly why Chapman's doing better than us.

Well, why don't you go and marry Chapman?

What do you mean?

How dare you ridiculously never accept?

Shut up exactly, keep your ass on the pavement.

I say, my God, Miss Vaughn, hello?

Oh, good evening, Miss Doyle.

We had paused opposite the broken tooth, owned by Piffling Vale's proud purveyor of cocoa-covered comforts, Agatha Doyle.

I do fancy Sherbert dipped up.

Do I deserve it there?

Thank you, Madeline.

You can share it with me.

What about me?

Buy your own.

Now, look here, Miss Lowe.

I'd like to get how lucky you are to have dropped by this evening.

I'm running a little competition to raise money for the upkeep.

A competition?

Actually, it's really a raffle.

Oh, God.

What's the prize?

If your tickets pick from the hat, you'll win the opportunity to create your very own chocolates.

I don't eat chocolate, it makes me hyperventilate.

Oh, dear, what a pity.

And you might have made a significant contribution to the village, too.

How?

It's part of the prize.

You design them, I make them, and they go on sale from now on, here at the Broken Tooth.

Oh.

Sid Marlowe at Piffling Matters will run a feature on them, too.

Tremendous publicity.

All over the island.

Then we go now.

So you're saying, Miss Doyle, that I could create something that people would appreciate?

A little bit of you in every chocolate.

Creatively speaking, of course, and entirely unique.

Oh, entirely unique.

What my dip, dab?

Shut up.

The The deadline's in a couple of minutes.

I don't suppose you're tempted, Ruddyard.

I don't suppose I am, Miss Doyle.

You see, how much is a ticket?

One pound.

Here's £4.50.

Antigone, you can't just.

Thank you very much, Miss Funn.

That's you popped four and a half times into the hat.

Smashing.

I'll be nipping inside now to pick out the winner.

A good evening to both of you.

And best of luck, Miss Funn.

Thank you.

Antigone, you've just spent company fun.

It was company profit, of which I'm entitled to spend 50% whenever I choose.

So next time you haggle over some dead plants, you can keep it all yourself.

I'm not doing that again.

Never been so embarrassed.

The siblings continued home to fun funerals, squabbling all the way.

There were few subjects upon which they could reliably agree.

Creativity, least of all.

Being an author, I, of course, had a vested interest in the debate.

But I kept my views to myself.

Nobody ever makes money from being creative.

Oh, that's a lie promoted by television.

And don't you think television makes any money itself?

No, no, never watched any.

Judge it!

You alright?

If we have any customers?

Don't be silly, Roger.

Did anyone call Warrior away?

Yep.

Agatha Doyle phoned up from the sweet shop.

What was that?

She wants you to go around to the Broken Tooth tomorrow because you've won the RA double action.

I can't spell.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

I won.

Yep.

You mean I've actually won something?

Let me think about it.

Yeah, you have.

I.

I won!

I thought this is...

This is a brilliant opportunity opportunity for us.

What?

Fun funerals chocolates!

It's perfect.

Almost too perfect.

But I don't want to be functional.

Antigone, I have to say, you're a genius.

This could be exactly what we need right now.

This has nothing to do with fun funerals.

Make them up, ship them out.

Every parent on the island will be stuffing their kids full of them.

Now that's an advertising campaign.

Get them while they're young.

Children love to plan ahead.

But this is my opportunity.

Last we've snatched the initiative.

Herr Chapman doesn't have his own chocolates.

He does have an action figure.

Enjoy yourselves.

Why do you have that?

Plastic pins in it.

I want one.

Antigone, why are you attacking the telephone?

Because I don't want to do fun funerals, chocolates.

I want to do my chocolates.

But this is a chance for us to...

It isn't.

If we did it for the business, we'd screw it up like we always do.

These are my chocolates, not yours.

Not even ours.

Mine.

Georgie, help.

The sun's come out.

Well, thank you.

Alright.

I am doing this, Roger.

You won't stop me.

Antigone, you're supposed to help me run a business.

We've got a funeral this week.

Tough.

Tomorrow, I am going to the Broken Tooth to make chocolates with Agatha Doyle based on my ideas or from the depths of my imagination.

And I'm not going to be selling fun funerals because, I am proud to say, I shall be selling myself.

In a manner of speaking.

Try and save a family business, and where does it get you, eh, Georgie?

Georgie?

I'd like a Shirley Temple.

The following day, Antigone left fun funerals and was carried by a stiff breeze straight to the broken tooth, where she rendezvoused with Agatha Doyle.

Yes!

Hmm!

Oh!

These are divine.

Good morning, Miss Doyle.

Miss Doyle?

Where are you?

Oh!

Hello!

Just behind the counter.

Sorry, I was trying out the new dolly mixtures.

They're rather addictive.

Would you care for some?

It's a bit early for me.

You're right.

They do pack a wallop.

I shouldn't shouldn't eat them myself, really.

Oh, Jesus, that's good.

Should I come back later?

What?

No, no, I'm raring to go.

Don't you worry.

I'm so excited.

As am I, Miss Funny.

I've got all sorts of ideas.

I've been pacing the mortuary all night.

Somebody once told me you sleep in there.

Yes.

Oh.

Right, never mind.

Really?

No matter.

Once we're all here, we can start getting our hands chocolatey.

Once we're all here, I thought it was just going to be me.

No, no, no, no.

There are two of you.

I was like a few ideas on the go, you see.

But you've nothing to fear.

It's not a contest.

No, no, of course it isn't.

Who else is coming today?

What a day to be alive.

Mr.

Chapman.

Oh, why do these things happen to me?

I can't tell you how thrilled I am, Miss Doyle.

I'm only sorry I can't stay long.

We've got the builders in today.

Ah, yes.

You're installing an entertainment wing.

Yes, it was a toss-up between a bowling alley and a roller disco.

Then I thought, why not have both?

Should be done by lunchtime.

Just the two of us, is it?

No, it isn't.

Ah!

Hello, Chapman.

Oh, Antigone.

I didn't know this place even had any shadows.

They follow me everywhere.

Of course they do.

So, Miss Doyle, I think we're in your hands.

How does this all work?

Naturally, I don't expect either of you to know the specifics of the confectioner's craft.

The nitty-gritty of the tooty-fruity, if you will.

But we can start with a few key words.

Light or dark?

Hard or soft.

Maybe a few favourite ingredients?

Like caramel.

That's right.

Keep it straightforward.

That's the best way.

Miss Fung, what have you got for us?

I want to give them a taste of death.

Oh, well, that's grim.

I mean, I mean, I mean, I don't want to kill them.

I should hope not.

No, quite.

Speaking as a constable, you're on very shaky ground.

I mean, it's just, you see, it's simply really that.

Well, you know, at the end of the day, I see a lot of death, and I think what I'd like to try and do is help people sort of try and understand it in a safe and comforting way.

With a chocolate.

With chocolate, yes.

You don't ask for much, do you?

Clementines.

What was that?

Clementines.

And cinnamon.

Antigone uses them to make her embalming fluids more appealing.

You remember that?

Of course I do.

Is that the kind of thing you're talking about?

Alleviating the sorrow of death?

I think so, because clementines and cinnamon can't erase the reality of it, they can only smooth it over, you see.

So I thought that one could make a chocolate that, well, kind of began with a sort of incredible, passionate burst of so many sweeping and evocative flavours, as if your whole life were flashing before your eyes.

And then, at the very centre, they give away to a bitter, crumbling, all-encompassing darkness, which lingers upon the tongue, the sweet and the sublime.

All over far too quickly.

That is what I'd like.

Right.

Mr.

Chapman?

White chocolate with a caramel centre.

Salted?

Lovely.

Done.

Well, I better hit the road.

Looking forward to how it all turns out, Miss Doyle.

And Antigone,

your idea, it's.

It's really.

I mean, well,

best of luck, I suppose.

You too, Chapman.

Hmm.

Enjoy yourselves.

Right, Miss Funn, if we're going to give the public an epiphany and a good time, I think we'd better roll our sleeves up.

Antigone explained the philosophy of her chocolates for a few more hours before Agatha Doyle shooed her away and sought solace in the comfort of some dolly mixtures.

The mortician returned to her funeral parlour to eagerly await the results.

And then, a few days later.

Now look here.

Yes, Mr.

Kettering, we're all set for tomorrow.

Your cousin's embalmed and ready to go.

Well, then whose cousin is she?

No, of course I don't know.

So why are we doing it?

Mm-hmm.

I think there are easier ways for you to meet women, Mr.

Kettering.

Still, you're paying for it.

See you tomorrow.

Was that her?

On my chocolate stun?

No, that was the client.

What client?

Our client for tomorrow, for the funeral.

Oh, I see yes.

Antigone, you have prepared the body, have you?

What do you mean?

Oh, of course I have.

How dare you?

Okay, don't freak out, buddy.

I accidentally knocked into the body for tomorrow when the head fell off.

Shut up, she's lying.

No, I'm not.

Here it is.

Look.

Oh my god, put it back.

It's gone cross-eyed now.

Put it back.

Fine, I'm doing it.

You make a few sweets, and that's all you can think about.

I could understand if they'd been fun funeral chocolates, then they'd have a point, but I really couldn't.

I finally made something by myself that I'd be proud of without.

Go on.

Without you to get in the way.

There, I said it, and I won't take it back.

You can't make me.

Antigone, you've got a body to embalm, and I don't know whose cousin it is, but I do know it's getting buried tomorrow, so get on with it.

Good afternoon, you two.

Come, buddy!

This is a bad time.

Does it look like one?

Antigone dot you in a headline.

It's a Heimlich maneuver.

Is it?

Yes!

Actually, I just came over to ask if you've got your chocolates yet.

Well, I don't see any, so the answer's no.

Never mind.

Worth a shot.

Can I, uh, help you up, Rudyard?

I like it down here.

It's my favourite floor.

Sure thing.

Enjoy yourself.

Oh!

Miss Darling!

Ah!

Here you are!

I'm so glad I've caught you both.

Afternoon, Miss Doyle!

Is he all right?

He likes it down there.

Gosh, the things people get up to behind closed doors.

Anyway, it's taken me a little longer than I'd expected, but at last I can say, voila!

The newest additions to my confectionery family.

They're finished.

For Mr.

Chapman, the very first box of blonde supreme.

Haha!

I am already overjoyed.

Try one.

Well, try and stop me.

Oh, oh.

Oh, that's heavenly.

Oh, anyone else want one?

No.

I wouldn't mind one.

Yes, you would.

Oh, Miss Dorillo.

Mm.

Oh, mmm.

Oh, you are a force to be reckoned with.

I am rather on life.

And for you, Miss Fun?

Yes.

The first box of

Memento Mori.

It's.

It's beautiful.

The deepest, richest shades I could find.

With your name there, right on the box.

And inside?

Quite the darkest chocolates I've ever made.

Practically stygian.

I think they're rather chic, if I say so myself.

I'm so...

happy.

Afraid I better be shooting back to work, but this has been terrific, Miss Doyle.

Really terrific.

My pleasure, Mr.

Chapman.

Goodbye, everyone.

Enjoy your chalks.

I must be going, too.

The hoodlums have been tripping on butterscotch, and I ought to give them a stern talking to.

Mr.

Oyle, I only wish I could taste these for myself, but they look exactly as I imagined.

Thank you.

Don't mention it.

Toodaloo.

Oh, by the way, they've got quite the kick.

Can't say more.

Memento, Maury.

Roger!

Yes, are you still...

Oh, for God's sake, get up.

Alright, nice being out of the way.

Get up and have a chocolate.

Georgie, where is she?

These choppers won't taste themselves.

Okay, the head kept rolling off, so I'll put it in the sink.

I'll fix it when I get back.

Wait, where are you going?

I'm taking the mare down to the shops to buy groceries.

Can't you stay for a minute?

I'm already late.

Sorry.

If I'm not there, Pronto will spend all his money on crisps.

But you need to try one of them.

When she comes back, she's sucked.

No, she isn't.

Now, are you going to let me try one of your chocolates or not?

Oh, go on in.

I bet you'll hate them on principle.

They're all the same, are they?

Why does that offend you?

Stop it.

What?

How dare you?

Oh.

No, no, no, I didn't like that.

What do you mean you didn't like it?

Didn't like it?

Didn't taste it.

Yes, I did.

You just saw me.

But not for long.

Because I didn't like it.

You can't form an opinion based on that.

Have another.

Then digging me.

Don't

beat it.

Tell me what it's like.

You're only making it worse for yourself.

It tastes utterly, utterly dreadful.

He was just saying that, because you're my brother.

You see what I've achieved when you let everyone taste me at the funeral tomorrow.

Not doing that.

Then I won't embalm the body, and I'll put the seven head inside your bed.

No, you wouldn't.

Tell me you'll give them out at the funeral.

Okay, okay, I'll do it.

Good.

Well, I'm gonna make myself a slice of victory toast.

Can I get you anything?

Just a glass of water.

I've washed the taste out.

I heard that.

If Radyard said her chocolates were awful, Antigone felt sure they'd be popular elsewhere.

The next morning, brimming with confidence, she marched over to the broken tooth to bask in the glow of her success.

Miss Fun!

I didn't expect you here today.

I just thought I'd see how Menanza Mori was doing.

Ah, yes.

Well, as you can see, I've put together a little display for them right here on the counter.

Ah, yes.

It's still a bit unreal for me, all this.

I really made these, didn't I?

With some help from me, yes.

How come you don't have Chapman's Blonde Supreme stepped on the counter, too?

Well, they've uh sold out.

But you only started selling them yesterday.

I know.

Remarkable, isn't it?

Boxes flew off the shelves.

The most popular suite I've ever sold.

I'm up to here with back orders.

I see, yes.

So, how many boxes of Memento Mori have you sold?

Not many.

Certainly fewer than ten.

Ten's not bad.

I said fewer than ten.

So what is that?

Eight or nine?

Four or five?

A couple?

None, actually.

None at all.

Which is certainly fewer than ten.

But these are.

I mean, look at them.

They're right here.

Miss Fun, please stop shaking.

You'll be stared at.

Look at that shaking woman.

Come away, Tanya.

Miss Fund, remember how to breathe, and please calm down.

These things rely on word of mouth.

You're giving out samples at your funeral this afternoon, aren't you?

Yes, but.

And we've got our interview with Mr.

Marlowe in half an hour.

That's all the publicity you'll need.

Trust me.

Good morning, Reverend.

Hello, hello, hello.

Hello.

No.

Miss Fund, don't scare the Reverend.

What can we do for you, Nigel?

Some praline clusters?

Actually, I want to get Desmond a little present, and I thought I'd nab a box of blonde supreme.

Oh, dear, I'm terribly sorry, we're completely sold out.

Oh, bother!

I'll have to get him a moustache comb instead.

Thanks, anyway.

Ta-da!

No, wait, what about a box of Memento Mori?

What the devil is that?

The darkest chocolate you've ever tasted.

I design it myself.

Look!

Hmm.

Are they on discount?

They can be.

No, they're not.

Tell you what, Miss Funn.

Why don't I handle the retail, and you can mosey on over to Mr.

Marlowe for the interview?

Never hurts to be early, after all.

Oh, yes, yes, I can do that.

Yes.

I'll catch you up.

Tell him I won't be long.

Antigone tried to prevent the success of Eric Chapman from dampening her spirits and failed entirely.

But she was determined to put up a strong front for her interview with Sid Marlowe, editor-in-chief of Piffling Matters.

Did you know that a sheep can understand a bat

in any language?

I did not.

Journalist.

Mr.

Marlowe.

Hello?

What's your name again?

Antigone fun.

Yeah, yeah.

Make yourself at home.

Coffee, pineapple juice.

Not for me.

Antigone?

Chapman, I suppose you're very pleased with yourself.

What with your chocolate selling out?

Have they?

Oh.

You didn't know.

No, but I'm chuffed to hear that.

Thanks for telling me.

He doesn't even care.

Now then, you two have designed your own chocolates with Agatha Doyle.

She's coming along too, isn't she?

She won't be down.

Well, I'll ask her a few general questions.

You know, what it's like being a police detective and a chocolate maker.

Is there a conflict of interest?

What is a conflict of interest?

That kind of malarkey?

And then we move on to how you came up with...

whatever you came up with.

Works for me.

And me, if you're interested.

Well, we can't really kick off off until she gets here, of course.

No worries.

You could try the chocolates.

Oh, could I?

Yeah, you've got some boxes there on your desk.

Ah, yeah, but I thought it would be rude if I just dived in.

You wouldn't mind?

No, not at all.

Ah, brilliant.

Right.

Let's see then.

Blonde Supreme.

Nice box, pearly white.

Let's go.

Mm.

Mm-mm.

Oh, yes.

You like it?

Oh, this is terrific.

It's like there's an invitation in my mouth and everybody's partying.

Well, that's the idea.

Mmm.

Oh, oh, God,

I didn't want that to end.

I'm going to have another one.

Or you could try Memento Mori.

Eh?

The ones Antigone made.

In the black box.

Oh, yeah.

Excuse me.

Got carried away there then.

So, Memento Mori.

You may find these rather more complicated.

I was aiming for a very specific effect.

Really?

Well, down the edge?

Chocolate is a little bitter to begin with, but still pleasantly sweet.

And then, quite soon, you'll reach a rich salmiaki flavor.

You won't know whether you like this or not, but curiosity should make you keep going.

And then, you'll reach the runny musk caramel.

It's heavily scented, incredibly strong.

You feel suspended, not wanting to take a breath, but unable to swallow any further.

Eventually, the need to breathe there will be too much for you to bear.

And then, who's the child that really gets you?

That's why he's not.

I'm glad he's choking.

Get it out of it.

It's too late, he can't.

His face has gone purple.

No, no, no, no, no, he's just enjoying it too much.

He'll be absolutely fine.

Mr.

Marlowe,

Would you like another?

I don't think I'll have another of those or anything else.

He's dead.

What?

He's not breathing.

His pulse has stopped.

But he can't be dead.

He can be dead.

And he is dead.

And I killed him.

Oh, my God.

Oh, we've got to think fast.

When's Miss Doyle getting hit?

Oh, my God, oh my god, my God, I got it.

Antigone!

Antigone!

Snap out of it!

Agatha Doyle will be here at any moment.

I'm gonna check if the coast is clear.

I hope I'm not too late.

The vicar started haggling.

Right, so the coast is not clear.

We'll have to improvise.

I killed Sid Marlowe.

Okay, that's the thing you shouldn't say to a police officer.

I say, can I come in?

Not yet.

Why not?

We're.

We're.

We're all naked.

What?

No!

I can get my kid off in the quadrant.

No, no, no, that won't be necessary.

I'm open-minded.

No.

We can't just leave her out there.

We can't explain this to her either.

Ba-ba-ba-ba-shi-du-da-da-da-da.

Not long ago, your brother was thrown into prison on less evidence than this.

It was nearly torn apart by an angry mob, and she started it.

Hello?

Now here you are with an actual dead body and a box of chocolates.

I'll go to prison for life.

I know.

I don't want to go to prison for life.

I know.

This is all very odd.

Suspicious, one could say.

Right.

I guess there's only one thing for it, and we haven't much time.

Antigone, we've got to hide the body.

We've got to watch.

I know it sounds shady, but we need time to think.

Hide the body?

We're going to get him through that window and down to the beach, I know, somewhere.

Help me with him.

Why are you doing this?

Because if you went to prison for the rest of your life, it would be a stupid waste.

That's why.

Just trust me, please.

I've done this before, a long time ago.

My new book was getting better every minute.

As Antigone and Eric lugged Sid Marlowe's body out of the window and then rapidly along a back alley, I followed on, fixing a price for the film rights.

It soon transpired that Eric was leading us to the beach.

Okay, okay, we can drop it.

I brought the memento mori box with me.

You better keep hold of it for now.

Chapman, what are we doing here?

My yacht's moored over there.

Perfect place to hide the body while we work on the story.

This is wrong, Chapman.

I'm not dragging a body all the way to the beach and then not hiding it.

That doesn't make any sense.

Just stay here and think of an alibi for us.

Why do I have to try and explain it?

Tigani, I can't do everything.

Enjoy yourself.

Oh,

stupid alibi, having a terrible day.

It's fun.

Hello.

Herbert.

Antigone's eyes were not deceiving her.

It was indeed Herbert Koff, the proprietor of the local cinema, pottering across the dunes towards her and accompanied by a small donkey.

It's fun, what a happy surprise!

You know, what are you doing here?

Oh, I'm just taking Mr.

Crumble for a walk.

There we are.

Yeah, there we are, boy, yeah, yeah.

It's my little sideline.

Herbert Koff's donkey rides.

Independent cinema isn't as lucrative as it used to be, sadly.

Right, yes, I see, yes.

Uh, Miss Fun,

you're trembling.

Whatever's the matter?

Oh, you see, I haven't known.

I've killed a man.

You've done what?

Look, Herbert, I killed Sidmarlo.

I killed him.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Calm down, Miss Fun.

Tell me exactly what happened.

I designed one of these new new chocolates that Agatha Doyle made.

Look.

Memento Mori.

And I said Marla was tasting it, and I was explaining it, and then he was choking and writhing, and then he fell over dead, and it's all my fault.

Well, that's not true, Miss Funn.

I mean, if Agatha made the actual chocolates, then she's far more guilty than you are.

I

hadn't thought of that.

And she'd have to arrest herself and put herself in prison, and then where would we be?

A lawless society, Miss Funn.

The Wild West.

And nobody wants that.

I mean, yeah, yeah.

All right, all right, Mr.

All right, Mr.

Crumble.

It was my design, Herbert.

Chapman kept his simple and everybody loved them.

I just wanted to do something different.

You wanted to let the island know who you really are.

Yes, but this is where it's led.

I've created a cursed chocolate.

I'm sure that it wasn't your fault, Miss Funny.

It just got stuck in Mr.

Marlowe's throat.

Could have happened to anybody.

Just rotten luck.

That's all it is.

Do you really think so?

I do.

Here, give us one of those chocolates.

Are you sure?

Yeah, Mr.

Crumble could do with a treat, couldn't you?

Hey, hey, here we are, boy.

Let's get going.

That's it.

Mr.

Crumble?

Is

he

bound to happen sooner or later, but did it have to happen today?

Oh god, the funeral!

I'll go to Chapman's state.

No, the funeral.

I'll just give him out at the funeral.

I've got to stop them before it's too late.

Miss Van,

you've left your body behind.

Antigone sprinted through the village like a thing possessed, her eyes wild, her limbs flailing.

She knew she was a murderer.

Everyone knew.

And she had to get to the churchyard before she killed again.

Johnny, the chocolate!

Johnny the chocolates!

She took a shortcut through the owl sanctuary.

They swarmed and attacked.

But she escaped the wrath of the furious owls.

The church was now in sight.

Could she get there in time?

We mourn the loss of Gillian Sponge, who last week kicked the bucket, which rebounded off a wall and struck her in the temple.

But we wish the best of luck to Mr.

Kettering, who's hoping to meet that special someone here today.

Good fortune, Mr.

Kettering!

Thanks, Carl.

And now for a special treat for you all, I suppose.

My sister, who couldn't be with us today for some reason, has designed a brand new chocolate, which she's forcing me to show you all.

Samples, hey!

Get your samples here!

Personally, I don't like them, but you know, I try and encourage her.

Dig in, everybody.

No.

Don't even kill you.

I'll be responsible for all your deaths.

It's a promise.

No.

They came out wrong.

Just don't eat them.

Oh, Miss Fun, there you are.

Oh, Miss Doyle.

I was standing outside in the nude for 20 minutes before I realised you'd gone.

I want an explanation.

Well, I've got one.

I'm a murderer, Miss Doyle.

You're a what?

Antigone, what are you talking about?

Imagine if I killed Sid Marlowe, I'm sorry.

Miss Funch, you've made a deeply serious allegation against yourself.

I think I'll have to ask you to come.

Hold on there a second.

And that's when Eric appeared, riding upon the back of Mr.

Crumble, now alive and well.

As indeed was his fellow passenger, Sidney Marlowe.

Antigone Funge, I want a word with you.

I want a tick.

He doesn't look murdered to me.

But I...

I don't understand you.

Whoa, Mr.

Crumble.

Afternoon all, Rudyard?

Sorry to break up your funeral?

No, no, whatever.

Mr.

Marlowe, I thought you were dead.

You'll wish I was when I'm through with you.

Yeah, you'll be on the front page tomorrow and you won't like it.

But I'm really sorry.

Well, I thought Rudyard was the one I had to watch out for.

But you...

You're a bloody menace.

I try not to be.

Antigone is innocent.

She She wants to know that her chocolates are a limited but very effective tranquilizer.

A what?

Your memento mori are so cloying that they put people into a kind of suspended animation.

Humans half an hour, large animals rather less, unless you spit them out first.

How do you know?

I read the back of the box.

Oh.

Yes, it's all there in the small print.

You might say they give a taste of death.

But they don't actually kill people.

Far from it.

The side effects could be very beneficial.

Dig in, everyone.

The chocolates are are safe.

This is truly disgusting.

But

yes, that's the unfortunate domicile.

Come on!

Stop this tail!

George!

Oh, I'm sorry.

Oh,

dear God.

I just wanted to do something beautiful.

Go and give these to my worst enemy.

Miss Doyle, I think I'll hand these back to you.

Desmond's tricky enough to wake up in the afternoon as it is.

Goodbye.

I.

I failed completely.

Well, you achieved what you set out to do.

A greater appreciation of death.

In a chocolate.

But no one appreciated it.

The truth is an acquired taste, Miss Funn.

Though I think we'd better keep them under the counter to be safe.

So you won't tell them, after all?

Uh, no.

But, you know, you still made something unique, didn't you?

And, well, it falls to very few of us to manage that, I'd say.

Thank you, Miss Doyle.

Come on, Antigone.

Let's go and refund Mr.

Catherine.

All right.

My stomach's on fire.

Shut up, Julie.

Antigone followed her brother, lost in her thoughts, aware that in succeeding, she had failed.

And it seemed, to her at least, that nothing would ever change.

Well, I'd better take Herbert his donkey back.

Oh, Miss Doyle, I'd like to buy some chocolates if I may.

Certainly.

Your blonde supremes?

Actually, uh, I'd like to buy a box of Antigone's.

Oh.

You see, I rather like them.

The Sweet, Sweet Taste of Death was written by David K.

Barnes and was performed by Felix Trench as Ruddyard, Beth Eyre as Antigone, Tom Crowley as Eric, Kira Baxendale as Georgie, Alison Skilbeck as Agatha Doyle, Andy Seacombe as Reverend Wavering, Paul Putner as Sid Marlowe, Andy Hamilton as Herbert Koff, and Belinda Lang as Madeline, with additional voices by Holly Campbell, Pip Gladwin and Maxwell Tyler.

Original music composed by James Whittle.

The programme was recorded at the Art Space Studios by Tom Guillieron and was directed and produced by Andy Goddard and John Wakefield.

Special thanks go to Ian R.

Buck for the Bucket Joke and to Alastair Gower at the Chocolate Tree in Edinburgh, whose chocolates don't actually kill people because they're really nice.

The Fable and Falling Network, where fiction producers flourish.

Coach, the energy out there felt different.

What changed for the team today?

It was the new game day, Scratchers, from the California Lottery.

Play is everything.

Those games sent the team's energy through the roof.

Are you saying it was the off-field play that made the difference on the field?

Hey, a little play makes your day, and today it made the game.

That's all for now.

Coach, one more question: Play the new Los Angeles Chargers, San Francisco 49ers, and Los Angeles Rams Scratchers from the California Lottery.

A little play can make your day.

Please play responsibly, must be 18 years or older to purchase, play, or claim.