Another Period (2013–…): Season 2, Episode 4 - Trial of the Century - full transcript

Hamish's trial for the murder of Scoops LaPue is approaching. Because of the secret connection he has to Hamish, the Commodore does whatever he can to ensure that Hamish is not convicted. Because the Commodore's relatively simple plan entails Frederick playing a part, it is not a guarantee that it will come off as envisioned. Meanwhile, others have their own goal for the trial. Lillian, who will be a witness, wants to upstage everyone else to get front page newspaper coverage. Beatrice wants to see someone - anyone - die. Wheelbound Chair, who is also a witness, wants to see Hamish convicted as he tried to blackmail her. And Peepers, the true murderer, seeks advice from a trusted old source about what to do. Hamish's innate knowledge of a specific part of the female anatomy and a chorus of groupies attending the trial may affect the outcome despite what the Commodore, Lillian, Beatrice, Chair and Peepers want.

Previously
on Another Period...

Hamish learned
Chair was having an affair

with the commodore
and decided to blackmail her.

Lillian slept with Hamish,

hoping she would get
some attention,

but when all of
the Bellacourt family's secrets

appeared in the newspaper
and a reporter wound up dead,

Chair framed Hamish
for the murder.

Confused?

You won't be
after this episode of Another Period.

Sounds like someone's got



a case of the Mondays.

Oh, buddy,
do you really want to spend

what could be
your last moments

just pacing around in worry?

You got to enjoy
the little things,

like sunlight

or sitting on the very bucket
you're pooping in.

Hamish!

You've got a visitor.

Now, keep it
to deep kissing only.

We're not lovers!

He's my brother.

Deep kissing only.

What's the matter with you?



You cannot tell anybody
that we're brothers.

I don't care about keeping
your little secrets anymore.

I die at sunset.

I'm scared too.

Remember when we were younger,
we used to play that game?

Lighting Daddy's warehouse
on fire for insurance money?

No, not Jewish Lightning,
dummy.

The other game,

the vaginal description game.

Oh.

He never made it
past first grade,

but, my God, there was
no one better

at guessing what
a woman's crinkle looked like

than old Hamish.

Oh, that sounds like
a hell of a time.

Do one now.
Do Mary Todd Lincoln.

Oh, I don't want to.
Not in the mood.

Lost your touch, eh?

Yeah, right.

Powerful first impression.

Old man frowny face.

Smells of freedom,
which...

smells like onions.

That is exactly right.
I know.

I paid for a glimpse
at the state fair.

I have a gift.
Had a gift.

Hold tight, Hamish.

I'm going to get you freed.

Guard?

While you're at it,
is there any chance

of you getting me freed too?

We'll see.

He-- he said it
like a yes.

It was a no.

I mean, you just got
a bad attitude.

No, I know him.
He's a terrible person.

♪ I want the money,
I want the fame ♪

♪ I want the whole world
to know my name ♪

♪ this is mine,
I got to get it ♪

♪ I got to get it,
got, got to get it ♪

♪ Another Period ♪

Ah!

Beatrice,
what are you doing?

Well, I can't go to trial
without doing cocaine.

Well, why are you shooting it
into your eyeballs?

'Cause it'll get
to my brain faster.

Flobelle, do my hair
into maize rows.

I, uh, don't do hair, my lady.

Oh, I guess I'll never stop
being surprised around here.

Miss Lillian, I do hair.

Do you think I'd trust
some pussy fanner

to touch my head
on a day like today?

Get back down there
and fan my pussy!

I want it bone dry
for the trial.

Technically, Hamish is
the one being tried,

but I've been called to testify

due to the fact
that I'm his former lover.

And also I'm beautiful,
charismatic,

sexually intoxicating--

I just want to see
someone die--

from hanging or firing squad
or dynamite or...

even old age.

Yes.

Well, who doesn't?

But let's not try
to shift focus

off of the person
who matters here-- me.

Oh, give me the P.

But I wanted to wear
Mr. Plume.

Beatrice, I can't have you
upstaging me.

If you want more attention,

you should start sleeping
with more murderers.

Fine.

Oh, great.
Cripple mom is here.

Lillian, why are you dressed

like a Prussian whore
on payday?

Lillian's wearing Mr. P
because she's the star witness

and I'm not.

Just as I coached you,
Beatrice.

Well, I don't have
to coach anyone

to convince myself
I'm important.

It is my testimony
that will determine

whether Hamish lives or--

Dies!

Dies.

Or dies.

See you in court, Chair.

Oh.
Ah!

Help her with her drugs.

Don't you see?

Hamish is innocent.

I killed that reporter,

and now Hamish stands
to be executed

for what I did,
for my sin.

Guide me, o willow.

Yes.

Yes, of course.
You're right.

O willow, I must confess.

Yes, they will kill me,

but I must be willing
to face that.

And this, this being
my last day,

I shall live
as I never have before.

Anyhoo, enough about me.
How are you?

How are Fern and the kids?

One more photo, ladies.

One more.

Oh, my.

If it isn't Brussels Sheridan
from "The Looky-Loo."

Look, a woman smoking in public.

Real taboo stuff happening here.

Is that supposed to be some
kind of political statement?

Yes, you might want to write
a little article about it.

And since you've asked,
as survivor

of a sexual encounter
with a poor person, I--

If this trial continues,

I will bathe myself
in the blood of 12 pigs.

And I will eat those 12 pigs,

rub their guts on my body,

and set myself on fire

if Hamish is not freed
by sundown

to be my star lover.

I was in the middle
of a speech, gals.

I realize you're all having
a psychic love affair--

Girls, over here.
Over here.

What about me?

Get out of the photo!

They're my backup dancers.

There are so many
desperate things happening here,

it's hard to decide
which is the worst.

Oh!
Oh.

Judge Henson,
it's very... embarrassing

that my employee is on trial
for murder,

so the quicker this goes away,
the better.

I have another idea
how justice can prevail.

According to Rhode Island
state law,

should no judge be present
and qualified to try a case,

any sworn federal officer
may step in

and act as judge.

Ah!

Oh, Papa, I love my new dress.

Son, remember
what we discussed.

Mm-hmm.

Well, with all due respect,
Father,

I am the selected official,

and I will do
whatever you say.

Which is to declare a...

Dogfight.

- No, mistrial.
- Yes, mistrial!

Ooh, I love the feeling
of this law hammer.

What's it called?

Who cares?
I'm king of the lawyers.

Bye, Father.

Well, if it isn't
my betrayer.

What do you want?

I'm just here to do to you
what you did to me.

Oh.

I'm gonna tell them about

all the bad things
you did to me

and what a sad, sad girl
that made me.

And while I'm doing that,

I want you think about
all the reasons

why you shouldn't have
blackmailed me.

Oh, well, at least I'll die

being cranked by the best
in the biz.

Oh, ain't nothing crippled
about that hand, is there?

Oh.

Enjoy your blue balls.

No, no, no, no.

I hear they compliment
a broken neck.

No! Get back here!

Oh, come on!
Oh, come on!

I need a release!

Oh, God, please,

if you can just
grant me anything,

help release me!

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!

Wow. Thanks, God.

All rise.

Now sit down...
if you're a sexual deviant.

Oh!
Twain.

♪ damn, what I got to say
to get a piece of that? ♪

♪ damn, what I got to say
to get a piece of that? ♪

♪ damn, what I got to say
to get a piece of that? ♪

♪ damn, what I got to say
to get a piece of that? ♪

♪ na-na, na-na ♪

Excuse me, sir.

Charleton Wimbledon
representing the state.

Objection!
Relevance?

You're simply repeating
legal terms you've heard before.

Is that correct?

Overruled!

Yeah, that's what
it sounded like.

Mark Twain here.

America's premier storyteller

stepping up to the bar
for the defense.

Ladies and gentlemen
of the jury--

Sorry.
My mistake.

Women aren't allowed to serve
on juries.

My client may be a bad man.

Hell, he may have even killed
Scoops LePue!

The state rests.

Uh, you're not--
you're not the state.

I'm the state.

And you don't rest
until the end of the trial.

Wanna bet?

It's very disappointing.

- Not a great lawyer.
- No.

No.

It does me no great honor
to tell you

I indulged myself
for the first and last time.

One, uh, rahvay-olay.

Ravioli?

- Huh?
- Ravioli.

Yes, uh, medium rare, please.

Prego.

Thank you.

I'm eating in a restaurant.

Your Honor,
I think it may be time

for me to call my first witness.

'Twas a cold October morning.

The pumpkins were ripe then

and pregnant with possibility,

like my pregnant friend Carla.

Poor Carla.

Autumn had sprinkled itself
throughout the land.

It's really not her turn
to speak.

Order! It is not your turn
to speak, Lillian.

Thank you.

The state calls--

Oh.

Lillian Bellacourt.

Now, you've said that you
and the defendant were lovers.

Can a woman
who has laid with a man

who has trouble
getting an erection

truly be called
that man's lover?

That's not really what we're
here to determine tod--

I am the victim here.

- Traitor!
- Curse you!

You may have had his body,
but we will have his soul!

Your jealousy
doesn't bother me.

I own what you crave!

Oh, fuck you!

- You're okay with all that?
- Order!

They're not really with me.

- Bitch!
- Order!

That bitch!

If it please the court,
I have to go number one.

Beatrice, would you take over
for me, please?

- Take over?
- Me?

- Yes.
- Oh!

You can't just have someone--

I've never done anything
like this before.

That's not--
that's a problem.

You can't just have anybody
come up and be the judge.

- What are you doing?
- Here I go!

I don't know.

Execute him.

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

We're not there.
We need to have a trial.

Well, sorry.
I'm not perfect.

This is my first time.

This is not even
your first time,

because you're not a judge.

You're really hurting
my feelings.

I'm sorry. I don't mean
to hurt your feelings.

You're forgiven.

Lillian, you may continue.

I don't know
what I was talking about.

Uno raviolo.

Ah, thank you.

Yes, please.

More.

Yes.

Yes. Yes.

Yes.

Yes. Yes.

While I understand your point,

I feel like murder should
maybe be malum prohibitum

instead of malum se.

I don't think it's internally
naturally an evil thing.

Sometimes murder is justified,
and maybe in Hamish's case,

even though we know...

- Beatrice?
- Oh, yes.

What were all those
fancy words?

What?

Execute him.
Bye.

No, that was--
that was interesting.

That was good.
What she was saying was helpful.

Order, order, order.

Okay, everyone, I have
a little announcement.

It was only number one,

but I did it sitting down
just in case.

Anyway, I am back from my break.

Oh, just in time
for another break.

If anyone needs me,
I will be in my chamber,

playing a solo game
of Duck, Duck, Goose.

Aye, missy!

What are you doing up there?

Who, me? Nothing.

Darling, this ain't
a maypole

for you to be dancing around.

This is a death machine.

I just like it
when people go poof

and then they aren't there
anymore.

Oh.

Well, you'd make
a good police officer,

wouldn't you?

You want to try it on
for size?

Mm-hmm.

Okay, well, you take
the wonton criminal,

and you put him up here
like so.

And then you take the noose,
and you slip it over his head,

making sure to make it
nice and tight.

And then you hang him until
his eyes pop out of his head

like cherry tomatoes
in a day-old salad.

Tighter.

You know, it gets lonely
down at the precinct.

Tighter.

All right, even this
is even weird for me.

- You okay?
- Uh-uh.

- Kelly, what are you doing?
- Oy!

You know you're not supposed
to have women out here...

without me.

Yeah, that's right.

Right, bring her in.

Ah, here you go,
you wee sunflower, you.

Yeah, give her
a nice kiss there.

Kelly, she's dead!

She's dead!
Bring her back!

- Bring her back.
- Oh, no.

- My goodness!
- Oh, boy.

Oh, I can't do this!
Oh, my God! Okay!

We--

I didn't know what to do.

He came out Scoop's office
with murder in his eyes.

He held a knife up
to my pregnant belly

and said, "Woman,
if you tell a soul,

I will cut your unborn baby
out of you

and hang it
from the clock tower!"

You monster.

- He loves abortion.
- No!

He's always aborting this
and aborting that.

Anyway, I told him
to leave me alone

and I would never tell a soul.

But that poor man.

That poor Scoops LePue.

Your Honor, I know
this is unorthodox,

but I would like the opportunity
to testify against my client.

What?

You've cost me
my entire savings,

but you were worth it, ravioli.

What wonderful surprises await
every bite

of your mystery innards.

Mmm!

Waiter!

More Chianti.

Will there be
anything else?

We are about to close.

How long have I been here?

Signore, you have been
slicing that ravioli

for almost three hours.

Oh, my goodness.
The trial.

Thank you, Giuseppe.
Arrivederci.

Arrivederci.
Grazie.

Mr. Peepers, go!
Italia is behind you.

Mr. Crassus, would you say

that you're an angry person?

No, I would say

that I'm a very calm
and happy man.

What if I were to call you
a filthy, stupid, bearded idiot?

You take that back,
you pile of shit!

I'll kill you while
your whole family watches,

and then I'll kill them!

I've killed men for less!

Murder's my favorite!

Oh! Oh!

Damn it!

I have no further questions.

It's a joke.

Well, I'm ready to render
my "guilty" verdict.

Hamish is innocent!

He has an alibi!
He can prove it!

He's just protecting the woman

he's been having an affair with.

- Is it you?
- I don't know.

- Her!
- What?

Martha, the--
the pig butcher's wife?

I don't know that woman.

Enough of this
martyrdom, son!

Your life is on the line!

Just before the trial,
he was telling me

what her...

feminine parts looked like.

Isn't that right?

Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Jeez, I, uh-- yes.

I didn't want to say anything,
but...

we are having an affair.

That's not true.

I know just what
her scrunchy looks like.

It's dark, and--
and puffy, yes.

- Puffy?
- Very puffy.

And-- and thinly lipped,

like-- like carpaccio.

Yeah, yeah.

It kind of resembles
the coastline of New Hampshire.

Well, is that true?

Is that what your vagina
looks like?

Well, I don't know
what my vagina looks like.

I've never seen it.

Oh!

I've seen a pig's vagina.

That's because we butcher pigs.

And I've seen a dog's vagina
before...

Just on the street.

Well, there's only one way
to solve this mystery.

Show us.

I'll show mine.

It's tight
and smells of chutney.

Lillian, have some dignity.

This is a court of law.

Ma'am, please stand up

and show everyone your vagina.

If it pleases the court.

That remains to be seen.

I give you the coastline
of New Hampshire!

New Hampshire!

Seems our problem
has been solved.

What?
No! No, no, no.

You can't decide a trial

based on the shape
of a woman's vagina.

That's not an alibi.

What is the matter
with you people?

The man is guilty!

This man is innocent!

I killed Scoops LePue.

I killed Scoops LePue!

No, no, I mean it.
I really did.

I-- I killed him.

I killed Scoops LePue.

Order!

And then I got his blood
on my face.

I killed Scoops LePue.

- I killed Scoops LePue!
- Order!

I killed Poops LeScue!

I would have killed
Scoops LePue.

I was happy when he died.

I killed Scoops LePue.

What?

Oh, you did?

Yeah, that works for me.

Yeah, me too.

I guess I didn't kill him.

- Off we go. Come on.
- Okay, here we go.

No, I just got caught up
in the moment.

I thought this was a thing
we were all doing.

Sorry, you're coming
with us.

I'm free!
Ha ha!

I'm free!

_

Well, today was
a complete waste.

Everyone ended up in the paper
except me.

"Hamish Crassus Not Guilty."

"Blonde Becomes the First Woman
to Hold Gavel."

"Vagina Shaped
Just Like New Hampshire."

I mean, who the hell knows what
New Hampshire's shaped like?

No!

Will you eat with us?

No, thanks.

I have somewhere to be.

Welcome home, Hamish.

- Welcome home.
- Thank you.

Did I tell you guys
that I learnt to read?

I did, I did.
I learnt.