Season 1 Episode 8 - The Trial of Rudyard

Charlie Sheen is an icon of decadence.

I lit the fuse and my life turns into everything it wasn't supposed to be.

He's going the distance.

He was the highest paid TV star of all time.

When it started to change, it was quick.

He kept saying, no, no, no, I'm in the hospital now, but next week I'll be ready for the show.

Now, Charlie's sober.

He's gonna tell you the truth.

How do I present this with any class?

I think we're past that, Charlie.

We're past that, yeah.

Somebody call action.

AKA Charlie Sheen, only on Netflix, September 10th.

Mike and Alyssa are always trying to outdo each other.

When Alyssa got a small water bottle, Mike showed up with a four-liter jug.

When Mike started gardening, Alyssa started beekeeping.

Oh, come on.

They called a truce for their holiday and used Expedia Trip Planner to collaborate on all the details of their trip.

Once there, Mike still did more laps around the pool.

Whatever.

You were made to outdo your holidays.

We were made to help organize the competition.

Expedia, made to travel.

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

It used to be the only one.

It isn't anymore.

But Eric Chapman has disappeared.

And the village thinks he's been murdered.

They all saw him being propelled over the edge of a cliff by his rival, Ruddyard Fun.

Wooden Overcoats by David K.

Barnes.

Episode 8

The Trial of Rudyard

Rudyard Fun was a serial killer, or so thought the people of Piffling.

They'd all witnessed the demise of Eric Chapman three hours ago, and now they wanted vengeance.

Rudyard gazed around the rapidly filling courtroom and felt quite pessimistic about the whole thing.

Did you realize, Madeline, that they're pinning every unexplained death from the past two months on me.

Here's another nasty thought: if there is a serial killer on the island, that person is still at large.

What?

Yes, I'm sure it isn't me.

For all I know, it could be you.

Okay, yes, you're just a mouse.

I've got my eye on you.

Roger!

Oh, that's all I need.

I'm taking any fun, the face of doom.

Roger, there you are.

I haven't been anywhere.

Hardly mobile than these, have I?

All right, all right.

It's a disgrace.

Should be Eric Chapman in chains and handcuffs, not me.

Yes.

I mean, I spend all that time.

What?

Yes, shut up, carry on.

I spent all that time trying to play nice, and the one occasion I sent anything even vaguely underhanded.

Oh, stop it, Roger.

Do you deserve every minute of this?

Getting arrested as a multiple murderer?

For the last time, no, it isn't me.

Hey there, you alright?

Oh, yes, Georgie, I'm feeling topping.

Great, whatever.

Here you go in Signy.

Thank you, Georgie.

What's all that?

Snacks.

Snacks?

The trail.

Coffee popcorn and prowling clusters.

Got them from the old bird at the sweet shop.

You mean the woman who arrested me?

Yeah, that's right.

What one?

No!

She's got a roaring tray going on back there.

Everyone's really pumped about this trio.

Actually, in terms of getting your name out there, this is by far the best thing you've ever done.

Oh, well, in that case, that's why especially hard to get convicted, shall I?

Just to make a real splash.

Don't you dare.

I'll bet my money on you being innocent.

Thank you, Georgie.

It had the highest odds.

Ladies and gentlemen of the court, here we go!

Ticker!

Do you mind?

If I could have your attention, please.

Will the court rise for the formerly right honourable judge, Desmond Desmond?

Thank you, Marjorie.

Please sit down, everyone.

I can't imagine this will take long.

Members of the court,

we are faced today with a most grave and actually very exciting case.

Funeral director Ruddyard Funner has been charged with not only the appalling murder of our council's Vice President, Eric Chapman.

Oh, that's just terrible.

Oh, don't worry, he won't get away with it.

Oh, in the name of Christ.

But he has also been charged with a slaughter of various less noteworthy individuals over the past few months.

Ruddiard Fun,

how do you plead?

Not guilty.

A bit risky, isn't it?

Well, I thought I'd give it a shot, my lads.

Suit yourself.

Reverend Wavering?

Present?

Upstood the ardently agnostic Reverend Wavering.

Ah.

You will be acting as the counsel for the prosecution?

Yes.

I shall use my arguments to prove, beyond any reasonable doubt, that Rudyard Funn is a relentless, murdering psychopath.

Unless, of course, he's innocent, which he could be.

And so, as counsel for the defence, I shall hope to expose all of my previous arguments as a pathetic tissue of lies.

Yes, well, it's been nice knowing you all.

I'll just show myself to the cell citizens find them all.

Sit down, ruddy business.

Perhaps, having apprehended the defendant, Miss Agatha Doyle should be the counsel for the prosecution.

Oh, yes, I'd love to.

Confectioner turned constable, Agatha Doyle, tough on crime, soft on sweets.

You could still be be counsel for defense, Nigel.

It's a bit awkward.

Why?

I'm pretty sure he did it.

Oh, brilliant.

Well, perhaps you could just go through the motions for us, Nigel.

And by the way, you are looking most distinguished in those robes, I have to say.

No.

Thank you.

I do feel pretty trim.

You really are an attractive fellow, you know.

Oh, gosh.

Steady all.

Excuse me.

Let me get back to my trial, please.

If you like your funeral.

Shall we begin, Mr.

Doyle, with the brutal murder of Eric Chapman?

Certainly, my lord.

It's my understanding that at two o'clock this afternoon, the defendant, Mr.

Rudyard Fun, acting with premeditated malice, did throw Eric Chapman over a cliff, killing him instantly.

What is your evidence for the child?

We all saw him do it.

Yes!

That's quite compelling.

Counsel for the Defence, would you like to uh tackle the evidence?

No, thanks.

It might weaken my case.

Instead, I'd like to call the defendant's sister, Antigone Fun, to the witness stand.

Oh, God.

Could Miss Antigone Fun approach the stand, please?

References.

I don't know how this is going to help.

Relax, Radiard.

Neither do I.

You are Miss Antigone Fun?

That's right.

I am.

Are you eating praline clusters in a court of law?

Yes.

Can I have one?

Help yourself, then.

Oh, thank you.

Uh

hmm, hmm.

Now, Miss Fun,

how long?

Oh, these war figures I do like prowling.

Um, how long have you known your brother?

All my life.

So, um, 35 years.

How do you know I'm thirty-five?

I baptized you.

Oh, yes.

So, you would say you have a fairly sharp understanding of your brother's personality and disposition?

Yes.

In fact, probably better than anybody's.

Depressingly, yes.

So, would you therefore be able to say, without a shadow of a doubt, that the defendant bore absolutely no malice towards Eric Chapman?

Sorry.

And that he has never expressed any desire to injure or flat out murder Eric Chapman?

Am I under oath?

Oh, would you like to be?

Um, I've got a Bible on me somewhere.

I've never read it.

Bear with me.

My lord.

Yes, Miss Doyle.

The witness would clearly rather not answer those questions in case they prejudice the court against the defendant.

Would that be fair to say, Miss Funny?

Uh, well,

sort of maybe yes, entirely.

Well, thank you very much.

Sorry, but I'm about to be under oath.

Um, actually, I've I've lost the Bible, but um uh no further questions.

If you could pop something into the collection plate on the way back, Rodel!

Do you have another witness, Nigel?

Um no.

Uh but I'd like to go on record saying that my client will almost certainly never commit murder again.

If he did at all.

Well, which he didn't, uh, though he might have done.

Um, I'm looking forward to seeing how this turns out, actually.

Look,

can I have a chance to speak?

Rudyard, that's highly unorthodox, isn't it, Marjorie?

Not in the least.

Exactly!

Carry on, Rudyard.

My lord, did you read my statement?

Yeah, Marjorie?

The defendant's statement.

You had it before the trial.

I was in the jail.

I slipped it under the door.

Ah, well, I don't always read everything I'm given.

I am usually kept very busy.

Well, the main point to take away is that I didn't kill Eric Chapman, and there's no evidence to say that I did.

We saw you pitch him over a cliff.

That wasn't Eric Chapman, it was a dummy!

A dummy?

A dummy that looked like him!

Why did you want a dummy that looked like him?

Look, never mind that now.

The fact is, it wasn't him.

Check the body.

By now, it'll be at the bottom of the sea.

Well, go and take a look.

I'm sure we don't mind waiting.

And if that was a dummy, in any case, then where's the real Eric Chapman now?

How should I know?

Because you killed him.

She's got you there, Radjar.

No, she hasn't.

Oh, sorry, to be honest i'm nobody's following me

i know where eric is who said that radiad's assistant georgina cruso is she a surprise witness looks like excellent i hope to have one of those take the stand miss cruso cheers me lad georgie what are you talking about an accessory to murder suspicious one could say eric wasn't murdered Look, three hours ago, he was chatting me up in a back alley.

Oh Garrowa.

And I told Eric to close his eyes so that I could give him a big surprise.

And did you?

Yeah.

He closed his eyes and I buggered off.

You buggered off?

Do you expect this court to believe that you passed up the opportunity to have a reckless fumble with Eric Chapman in a back alley?

I'd have been in there like a shot.

Wouldn't you, Milad?

Well, I think we all would.

Antigone, are you not?

No.

I left Eric very much alive in the alley next to the Belgian embassy, embassy, and then I saw Rudyard carrying the dummy and being chased by an angry mob.

I nipped through that alley to get here.

I share tobacco with the Belgian secretary, and I didn't see Chapman anywhere.

Well, yeah, he's probably gone by now, but Miss Crusoe, everybody on the island is at this trial, all except Eric Chapman, for the simple reason that your employer threw him over a cliff.

Admit it, Rudyard.

Oh.

Business was drying up.

Money was running out.

Killing your competitor was the only option left open to you.

But that option was way down the list.

It was fifth.

In fact, you've been venting your bloodlust for months.

Mr.

Askey, Mr.

Orton, Seymour Prophet.

He was killed by a waitress.

It was you in a dress.

You exploded, Colonel Hubbard.

You knocked down Basil Corbett.

You massacred two innocent seagulls.

And today you bumped off Captain Sodbury, too.

Me Nana will be devastated.

No, it was only a one-night engagement.

Look, I had no reason to kill off those people.

You needed more business, and you needed it quickly.

Ever since Eric Chapman arrived when you crushed an antiques dealer to death with a granite sundial.

Do you remember that?

Do you?

Do we all remember that?

I do.

Yeah.

Wait, wait, wait, don't you see?

Ever since Eric Chapman arrived,

he's your serial killer.

It was him all the time.

Are you saying, Roger, that you murdered Eric Chapman to stop him from killing again?

No?

Oh, I'd have let you off for that.

Damn it, Roger.

You're a nightmare to work with.

Reverend Wavering, tell them...

Tell them whatever evidence they have is entirely circumstantial.

I can't do that!

I don't know what it means.

Malad, the defendant cannot advise his own counsel.

Oh, I'd rather he did.

I'm in way over my head here.

No, no, no, I wouldn't say that at all, Nigel.

You're really doing awfully well.

Oh, you're so kind to me, desperately.

Oh, Nigel, how could I not be?

Maladi.

How about I cook dinner tonight?

Something really elaborate.

Oh, you darling man.

Maladi.

Yes!

I worry that you might be unduly biased towards the counsel for the defence.

Oh, no, I'm not.

I'll prove it.

I

pronounce Rudiard Fan

guilty.

What?

Sorry, Zegret.

No, no, no, it's a good sound.

But hang on a minute.

Well played, Agatha.

You think you know a man.

You said him shovel and did dance for five years.

All part of life's rich tapestry, though that has been disputed.

Wait, no, listen to me.

I am innocent.

Radiad Fun,

you have been found guilty of multiple murders.

I am afraid I have no choice but to sentence you

to death.

I don't have a choice, do I?

Yes, you can put me in prison!

Oh, thank God!

Yes, we'll do that!

Take him away!

I'm sorry for the scary.

You're all mad!

I didn't do anything!

Get out of me!

Let go!

I'm innocent!

Standing chapman, you want his out there somewhere!

He's got a killer us all!

Cough up, Georgia.

Radyard's cell was cramped, dank, and incredibly dusty, so he soon felt entirely at home.

But as the days dragged on, he found there was little to do except reflect on life, contemplate its mysteries, and agree to a newspaper interview.

And how do you reckon you'd reply to those critics who say you shouldn't compare yourself to other people?

Other people are all there is.

Oh, yes.

Yes, very profound.

Think I'll end a piece on that.

And a photo of you being chased by a swan.

Anything else, Mr.

Marlowe?

I've got a few more bags of fan letters here for you to look over.

Sign the odd photo, that sort of thing.

We're passing through the bars.

They are the knickers.

Oh, and Petunia wondered if you could autograph another pair of her knickers.

Are there going to be many more of these?

With her?

Who knows?

Here's the pen.

Shock.

I'll tell you what, son.

You're a big hit with the birds.

They bloody love you out there.

It's your air of danger that does it, that simmering bad boy menace.

Yes, well, I've always had that going on, of course.

They'd be queuing up round a block for a night with you, boy.

Yeah, pity you're never getting out.

There you go.

Love to Petunia.

Marvellous.

She'll wear these with pride.

I mean, is that the time?

Me and her have got a date at the yacht club tonight.

Stepping out in style now.

Sounds nice.

It's all these pieces on you, lover boy.

Our circulation's never been higher.

If there's anything I can do, give us a whistle.

See you later.

Hello, ladies.

Mr.

Marlowe.

Hello.

Brought you a cake.

Is there a file in it?

Or a hacksaw, some dental fluss?

No, it's just a cake.

Maybe you you wouldn't want to eat it.

We'll take it home with us.

No, no, I'll eat it, really.

You had your chance.

Oh, fair enough.

How are they treating you here?

Quite well.

You'll be sorry to hear.

Roger Judge.

Madeline keeps me company most of the time, don't you, Madeline?

She'd like a slice of that cake if it's coming.

Roger, look, I don't hate you.

No?

I'm as sorry as anybody that you've been wrongfully imprisoned for a psychotic killing spree.

Then help me get out of here.

How?

Find Chapman.

He's the real killer.

You don't know that.

He hasn't been seen since the day he got arrested.

It all started when he arrived.

The antiques dealer.

He was the first.

You still don't know it was Chapman.

The dealer got killed.

Chapman moved into his premises the day of the funeral.

What more do you want?

If Chapman's innocent, where is he?

Teethley.

Georgie, it's all up to you.

We're gonna need a helicopter to solve this one.

There isn't time for that.

We've got Captain Sudbury's funeral this afternoon.

Oh, yes.

How is the business?

Quite rosy, actually, just like old times.

So, you know, no need to hurry back.

I just told a joke.

We'll work on a delivery.

See you, Rudyard.

And do you, Georgie?

Rudyard!

What?

Chill.

Bad chance, eh, Madeline?

If there's anything to keep our spirits up in this place.

Besides all the bags of fan mail, yes.

I remained with Rudyard as he dolefully replied to his fan letters, but later heard that Antigone had experienced a brainwave at Captain Sodbury's funeral.

We celebrate today the life of Captain Scott Sodbury, accomplished lighthouse keeper and one of Piffling's most keenly celebrated pornographers, whose literature has touched us all in ways that none of us would feel comfortable describing.

And while recent experience has taught us that a burial at sea tends to spiral out of control rather rapidly, I'm sure we can all agree that this is an acceptable substitute.

Do we have the coffin to hand, Miss Funny?

I think so, Georgina.

Yeah!

And it's pretty happy.

You're not the center of attention here, Georgie.

Where do you want it?

In the lake, I think.

I think she meant gently, Georgie.

Never mind.

I'm sure we'll dry off soon.

Friends,

we stand today next to Lake Chapman, discovered on church grounds by the late Mr.

Eric Chapman on his very first day in our community.

His very first day?

Antigone.

Nothing, just thinking.

Like Captain Sodbury, Eric Chapman is just one of many friends slain in recent months by the sadly psychotic

Rudyard Fun.

He is very attractive.

Nobody's disputing that now.

But he was also driven by a desperate and fanatical envy from the day Eric arrived.

You'll recall he crushed Stanley Carmichael to death with the very same granite sundial I later purchased for an absolute song.

Thank you, Jerry.

Don't mention it.

Wait a minute.

The day Eric arrived?

Of course.

Antigone, what are you mumbling about?

But for now, as Captain Sodbury slips beneath the waters of Lake Chapman, let us enjoy the legacy he left behind.

Antigone, you welcome mentor.

The day Eric arrived, moving into that shop, he couldn't have known.

He just couldn't.

Couldn't have known what.

I was going to suggest we sing a few hymns, but since Antigone Fan has kindly donated to us 300 copies of Captain Sodbury's seminal work, Island of Passion,

I thought, why not read out some of our favorite passages instead?

Antigone, stop freaking me out.

Eric couldn't have known what.

So if we could turn to chapter 10, 10, my night with the chieftains, brother.

Antigone, Eureka, I've got it.

Reverend, terribly sorry, but we've got to dash off now.

Are you sure this is quite a stimulating reading?

I'm sure I wouldn't know.

Oh, come off it.

Antigone, where are you going?

To catch a serial killer, come on!

Okay.

Meanwhile, Rudyard was developing his own theories back in his prison cell.

With a little help from a reasonably observant mouse.

It's no good, Madeline.

I can't concentrate.

These glossy photographs would just have to go unsigned.

Because Eric Chapman is out there on the loose.

And Digny and Georgie are depending on me.

What do you mean, no, they're not?

They might need a bit of help.

You know, sometimes...

Just sometimes, Madeline.

You really lower my self-esteem.

I mean, it's just a fact.

I don't want to come to blows over this.

I'm just saying, sometimes I'd rather be sharing a cell with Eric Chapman.

Ignoring his psychopathic credentials.

Of course he's the murderer.

He had the perfect opportunity for all those deaths.

Probably.

And he doesn't need a motivation.

He's Eric Chapman.

He's like a

deadly Jesus.

Look, the day he arrived, we hadn't even finished burying old Stanley before Chapman had moved into his premises.

That's what we're up against.

What do you mean he couldn't have known?

You mean, how did Chapman know that the premises was going to be empty before he arrived?

Well, um, he'd have arranged all that months in advance.

I mean

wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

I see what you're getting at.

But if you're right, that means that the only person who could be the killer is

exactly!

Yes!

That person!

Who can only be them?

Madeline!

We've got to warn everyone.

I've still got all these fan letters to to answer.

You're right, priorities.

But how do we get out of here?

I'd been praying for a complete coincidence for several hours now, and at last my prayers were answered when a hole suddenly appeared in the ground, and from it appeared a very familiar face.

Chapman!

Hello, Rodiard.

Good to see you.

Madeline, looking sharp as ever.

What are you doing here?

Where have you been?

Do you realise that the entire village thinks I knocked you off?

What do you have to say for yourself?

I brought you a Sherbet did that.

Thank you.

But let me help you.

No time for that, Rodeal.

We've got to get out of here.

Not so fast.

What happened to you?

When Georgie left me to think about my proposal.

I wonder how she's getting on with that.

Anyway, I peeked out the alleyway to see where she'd gone, and instead saw you running from the mob.

I followed at a distance.

You threw what looked like an effigy of me over a cliff.

No hard feelings.

None taken.

Well, actually, we'll have to explain that.

But anyway, I then realised that with everybody thinking I was dead, I could stay hidden and search for the serial killer.

And you'll never guess who it is.

It's.

Oh, you've you've worked it out.

You know, for the last few days, I thought it was you.

Me?

Yes.

But I'm so popular.

I know.

Good way to hide in plain sight.

That's funny.

Why?

For the last few days, I thought it was you.

Me?

Yes.

But I'm so unpopular.

I know.

A good way to hide in plain sight.

Double bluff.

Yes.

Now, look here, we can't stand around chatting.

Yeah, you're right.

Antigone and Georgie could be in terrible danger.

After all, they still don't know that the serial killer is actually, in point of fact, Mayor Desmond Desmond.

Yes, Marjorie, the very same.

But are you sure?

He's the proper Methodist.

Methodist?

No, he's a Catholic.

I'm not religious.

I hope you've got some evidence to support these wild allegations.

I don't think that'll be necessary.

At least I hope not.

We haven't gotten any.

I think he'll want to hear this.

Wait here for me, please.

Nigel, come in.

I've got a surprise for you.

Sir, it's me.

Oh, Corks.

Don't come in.

Just kidding, my gun.

It's a matter of some urgency.

Yes, yes, all right.

All right.

You

Why not?

I was thinking about the pulp I just said.

Then focus.

How could Eric Chapman have known that the antique shop he was moving into was going to be vacant before he arrived?

He would have been told when he got the planning permission to move in.

So, therefore, the only person who knew that Eric was coming was Mayor Desmond Desmond.

He knew the shop would be vacant because he was planning to kill the owner just before Eric arrived.

Simple.

But why would he do that?

And why would he kill all those other people?

And a couple of seagulls.

That's what we've got to find out from him.

Allow me.

I'm great at extracting confessions.

Uh, hello.

Confess!

No, Georgie, not yet!

Marjorie says you'd like to talk with me.

You could say that.

Right.

Well, uh, either of you fancy a little drinky.

I've got a few bottles of champers around here somewhere.

Oh, you'd like us to accept a glass, wouldn't you?

Not if you don't want one.

I have gotten quite used to drinking alone.

Good.

Cause we're not gonna let you poison us.

Poison you?

We're on to you, your worship.

We're on to you big time.

Your worship.

Oh my god.

We know everything you've been up to.

Yeah.

And it's gonna stop here and now.

No, please.

You can't tell anybody.

I think the people of this village have a right to know.

Please don't.

I will never play Blackjack again.

What?

That's what you're talking about, isn't it?

My illegal all-night blackjack tournaments.

Blackjack isn't illegal.

Isn't it?

Well, you ought to know.

Oh,

I have been wasting so much time.

We're not talking about blackjack, we're talking about murder.

Murder?

Lots of murder.

Leading right to your door.

But

Roger Hart was a murderer.

We had a trial

and everything.

You rigged that trail to deflect suspicion from yourself.

There's no other explanation for such a slap-dashed mockery of justice.

I thought I did rather well.

Well, you didn't.

Ooh.

You don't deserve that champagne.

Should take it back to the shops.

Let's follow him, Antigone.

I don't trust him to do it unsupervised.

Can you hear something?

Georgie!

Oh, hi, Eric.

We're all enjoying ourselves.

Where the hell have you been, Chapman?

No time for that now.

There's a little matter of a serial killer in our midst.

Yeah, thanks, Eric, but we're dealing with it.

Oh.

I think you'll find Mayor Desmond is going to come quietly.

We're taking my champagne back to the shops.

But you've got it all wrong!

The man's not the killer!

What?

Well, who is it then?

Oh.

I see we have more visitors.

Do you all have an appointment?

I do so like people to have an appointment.

Marjorie?

Marjorie!

You've brought the champagne.

Purely in self-defense, of course.

This vintage can be extremely volatile when shaken.

Oh, keep back, everyone.

That cork can have someone's eye out.

Especially when it's tipped with a poison letter opener.

I've had plenty of practice these past few months, devising elaborate methods of execution.

Now, all of you, get up against the water cooler.

No sudden movements.

Can I get some water?

No!

We should have stopped for coffee at yours.

I did offer.

I didn't understand all this.

I was sure it was the mayor.

Whoever killed the antiques dealer had to be the same person who knew where it was moving here.

But Antigone, remember, the mayor doesn't read everything he's given.

He's usually kept very busy.

That's right, I am.

Which means the only person on the island who ever knows what's going on is his secretary, Marjorie.

Do you know how much time I put into this village?

Keeping things going, doing all the work?

For no credit, no acknowledgement, always overlooked.

I know where you're coming from.

Do you?

Really?

I didn't notice you ever trying to get to know me.

Be fair, she's only just got yesterday, Light.

Shut up.

Nobody knows anything about me because nobody ever cared.

No, no, no, Marjorie, that's not true at all.

What's my surname?

Oh, uh, yes.

Uh, well, it's one of those difficult ones, isn't it?

It's Smith!

Oh, well, yes.

What a very pretty name.

Marjorie, let me get this straight.

You've provided the body for nearly every funeral of the last few months.

It was going to be just the ones.

Just a little murder.

Something to get rid of all that stress.

Then you, Eric Chapman, would move in and you'd be the chief suspect.

But you had to be so darn popular, didn't you?

Sorry.

Sickening, isn't it?

And so nobody gave it another thought.

And I killed again and again.

Until eventually they'd have to notice.

They'd have to acknowledge something I'd done.

Do you think a village can just turn into a bloody town overnight?

I thought we were nearly there.

Of course we're not!

Not by a long chalk!

Which you'd know if you could be bothered to read anything.

Well, I am usually kept very- SHUT!

Ah!

Marjorie, let's sit down and talk about this reasonably.

I understand what you're going through.

Oh, save it.

You only have to show up and everybody loves you.

You can't empathise with me.

But I can.

Roger, be careful.

Marjorie.

I don't care.

I know what it's like to be left out.

I know what it's like to be nobody's favourite person.

But if there's one thing I've learned from getting the body in the coffin, in the ground on time,

it's that there's always something to be proud of.

And that there's always someone who understands us.

So, Marjorie, what I want you to do now is to put down the bottle of champagne.

Sit with me for a while.

And together I'm sure that between us we can find a better way for- NOW, George!

Yes!

That'll teach you to threaten me with a cheap brute!

Georgie, you knocked your own conscience!

What did you do that for?

You told me to.

No, I didn't.

I mean, no, Georgie, come up with another argument!

What's mental?

What are you talking about?

Oh, never mind, it's done now.

She did save our lives, Richard.

Yes, all right, well done, Georgie.

There you go.

Cheers.

How are you faring, Desmond?

Poor, poor Marjorie.

I had no idea she felt this way.

Oh, world on her shoulders.

So unappreciated, she was driven insane.

I'm I'm sure there's a moral in all this somewhere.

Mind you, I'd rather not think about it.

Oh, now will you leave it?

And so we all dispersed, leaving the mayor to tender the unconscious Marjorie as she lay in a growing pool of cheap champagne.

But things weren't quite over yet.

Later that evening, back at fun funerals, Antigone had something to say.

Roger.

Yes?

Roger, look at me.

Wait, I'm answering all my phone now.

Rajard, you only got those letters because they thought you were a criminal.

Nobody's going to care now, are they?

Roger what?

A partnership.

What?

Fun funerals.

50-50, straight down the middle between us.

You want to run the business?

I'm going to run the business.

Well, what about?

With you, of course.

My brains, my expertise, and your...

whatever it is you actually do.

Our father put me in charge of the company.

Our father couldn't even remember my name, but he's dead and we're not, so I think our say holds more weight.

But you don't have the business brain.

Richard, in the past few weeks, I've prevented tax fraud, been a fortune teller, and today I nearly solved a murder mystery.

As experience goes, I consider myself very versatile.

But.

Have you told him yet?

I'm doing it now.

Is this a coup?

Because I've had a very tiring week.

We just feel that you might benefit from sharing the responsibilities a bit.

So you don't go loopy and end up being chased by a vigilante mob again.

Well, that's hardly likely.

Look at all these phone letters.

What did I just tell you?

Oh, yes.

Evening all.

Chapman.

Hey, Eric.

Listen, I'm sorry about leaving you in a back alley all those days ago.

No, you're not.

You're right, I'm not.

Anyway, I just wanted to come over.

Eric?

Yes?

Stop talking.

Now, look here.

Things are going to be a little different from now on.

Oh.

Fun funerals is under new management.

Under new management.

And Eric Chapman, you might have given us a run for our money in the past, but fun funerals should keep on going until you've been squished right into the dirt.

No offense.

None taken.

Actually, after everything that's happened, I was going to suggest we join forces.

Fun funerals and Chapman's together at last.

How about it?

I don't think so.

Do you, Rajard?

Can we use the coffin machine?

That's a no.

I think that's settled then, don't you, Eric?

I guess so.

I must admit, Antigone, it was a bit of a long shot.

But I should have known you'd never get into bed with the opposition.

Well, why should I want to?

I know, right?

Yes, exactly.

Shut up, exactly.

I I think I think about it.

Chapman, I've got one last.

Antigone, sit down!

Shut up, can you?

I've got one last question to ask you, Chapman.

Shoot.

Why did you come to the island?

Aha, well, that's a long story.

I'll tell you all about it

one day.

You're doing that thing again.

Sorry, Georgie, bad habit.

I picked it up

a long time ago.

Stop it.

And that would have been a very neat ending to these events.

And indeed, to my book, Memoirs of a Funeral House Mouse, available in several flavors.

But a few seconds later, before Eric could leave, the door to fun funerals was flung open once more.

Rodyard, you're in.

Thank goodness you're here.

I get the door.

What's wrong?

It's Paddy Martindale.

He choked to death on a chocolate bracelet barely ten minutes ago.

There's nothing we can do.

Rodyard, we need a funeral.

I see.

Antigone,

Georgie.

Here we go again.

Really?

Yep.

Super.

Let's go.

Right.

Boop.

Boop, boop.

Enjoy yourselves.

Bye.

The Trial of Ruddyard was written by David K.

Barnes and featured Felix Trench as Ruddyard, Beth Eyre as Antigone, Tom Crowdie as Eric, Kira Baxendale as Georgie, Steve Hodson as the Mayor, Andy Seacombe as Reverend Wavering, Alison Skilbeck as Agatha, Paul Putner as Sid Marlow, Ellie McAlpine as Marjorie, Julia Deacon as Nana Crusoe, and Belinda Lang as Madeline.

With additional voices from Holly Campbell, Pip Gladwin, and Max Tyler.

Original music composed by James Whittle.

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

Right, but

enjoy yourselves.

Bye.

I am loath to do this, but ladies and gentlemen, that is the end of our recording of Wooden Overcoats.

Congratulations, everyone!

Yes!

We've got the body in the coin and the ground.

Four minutes later.

Yay!

I've got three minutes.

How's that?

Hi, I'm John.

Hi, I'm Andy.

And together we're the producers and directors of Wooden Overcoats.

And we just wanted to come on at the end of this episode and say a huge thank you.

Yeah,

cheers for listening this far.

So grateful for every one of you who's told your friends.

It's been such a huge enterprise getting this to you, but it's also been an absolute privilege.

Yeah.

And so much fun.

Oh, that was great.

This is the fantastic news.

Look here.

A pleasant surprise.

An auspicious afternoon.

In what way?

Well, you'll find out, Chapman, believe me, you'll find out.

I can't wait.

Also, a huge thanks from us to all 50 of the team who came together to give their time for purely the love of radio and purely giving this thing to you.

We're not going to name check them all because that'll be a total waste of your time, but that's basically all of the actors who are involved, all the writers, all of the team in the studio, all of the extra facilities help we have in the studio, all of the musicians, all of the musicians,

composer, various people at various different companies who are helping us out along the way.

So, so many people lent their time and energies to this project.

Thank you so much.

Was that too much at the end?

I think so.

I think it is.

I think that's a wrap.

The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish.