Shakespeare & Hathaway: Private Investigators (2018–…): Season 1, Episode 8 - The Chameleon's Dish - full transcript

No!

Hamish? Hamish?

You were dead! I think I killed you.

You're having one of your dreams, love.

No, no, it's not a dream.

It's not a dream!

It's a nosebleed. It's just a nosebleed.

OK.

Come on.

Now, remember, bad thoughts
are just clouds passing by.

Now, those clouds sometimes take
the form of wolves at first,



but if we tilt our head just a little,

- they become bunnies.
- Bunnies.

Yeah.

Even if we can't see the bunny, the
cloud will pass eventually, son.

I'm not your son.

Shall we sing our song?

♪ Lavender's blue

♪ Dilly dilly

♪ Lavender's green

♪ When I am king

♪ Dilly dilly

♪ You shall be queen. ♪

Where was I?

So, er, yeah. Your name is Hamish Kingly.
You're 18 years old.



You live with your vegan
mother and new stepfather,

who together run holistic
retreats at Wittenberg Manor.

You attend Kronborg Sixth Form College.

You want to study veterinary
science but you've been finding it

quite difficult to concentrate
on your studies recently.

You split with your
girlfriend a few months ago...

I'm ambidextrous and double-jointed.

And I don't like physical contact.

Right.

You love board games.

- Specifically chess.
- Well, specifically, why are you here?

I have bad dreams.

I-I sleepwalk.
I-I wake up in strange places.

Sometimes I'll-I'll black out during
the day and when I come round

I have no recollection of where I've been.

I think someone died. A long time ago.

And I think I was involved...

or-or-or not.

May-maybe it's a premonition and
something, someone is going to die,

but all I can say for sure is that
something terrible might happen

anywhere, any time, but
specifically, this weekend.

Something bad is going to happen

and I need you to follow me and-and
stop whatever it is from happening.

Well, regrettably we only investigate
real crimes in real time

on Planet Earth.

You're clearly very anxious, Hamish.

Have you been getting
any professional help?

Yeah, yeah. Erm, I'm seeing a
professional counsellor at college.

But she's been away, so... I-I-I just...

I just need to know that you'll be
watching me over the next few days.

Please.

I know I probably sound a bit mad.

No, it sounds perfectly...

Yeah.

I have money.

My trust fund just matured.

Just write-write your
fee on the line there.

White and two sugars.

Actually, I think I would
prefer black after all.

I'll draw up the paperwork
while I'm at it, shall I?

Well, we'll need an address.

In here. You'll...
All the details are on there.

We're hosting a silent
retreat this weekend.

I-I have to help out, so it...

it'd probably be best if you
pretended that you were guests.

This is going to be bliss.

48 golden hours where I can just sit back,

relax in front of a log fire,
maybe read my magazines.

Yeah. It's the silent bit I'm
looking forward to the most.

I bet they've got four-poster
beds and Egyptian cotton sheets,

like the highest thread you
can even think of, like...

Alas, we'll never know.

No.

No, no, no, no!

Lily, you said you were meeting a
girlfriend to work on your science project.

- I lied.
- Oh hang on, hang on.

Is this what you wanted the money for?

Mumbo jumbo hippy-happy claptrap?

Do you know,
I don't know what's got into you.

What's got into me?

I told Dad what you did and
he's flying home to get me.

- I'm moving in with him and the chipmunk.
- Oh, Lily, no!

We're done.

Go, now.

No, I won't leave without you!

Teenagers, eh?

Thank you.

OK.

Greetings, one and all,
on this beautiful morning.

My name's Sandra. My partner Rex and I

would warmly welcome you
to Wittenberg Manor House

where we will be your spiritual
guides for the next two days.

We invite you to turn back the clock
to a time of peace and tranquillity.

No Wi-Fi.

No mobile phones.

We take our cues from the natural world.

Go to sleep when it gets dark.

Rise with the dawn chorus,

silently embrace the loving
kindness, patience,

compassion and wisdom that
resides within us all.

Mother Nature has provided
us with all we need.

Hedgerows and woodlands to forage food.

Hay bales to sleep on.

Wood to make fire.

A well to give us water.

And compost toilets.

Rosie and Gilbert Stern?

You'll be staying in the
main house with-with me.

Oh, thank goodness!

- Oh, right.
- Yeah, special dispensation.

I told them you're honeymooning.

Wh-what?

What?

Not the most obvious of
romantic destinations, but...

Well, you-you met in recovery.

Wow. I can tell you've really
thought this one through.

Yeah, yeah. Erm, NA meets AA.

So-so, you're-you're narcotics.

- Which means you're AA, which is Alcoholics...
- Yeah, I know what AA stands for.

Yeah, no, it's just that I read that
when you're fabricating a narrative

it's best to-to stick as close
as possible to the truth.

Hamish!

I had no idea that you
were going to be here.

Yeah, right!

It's his house!

- What are you doing here?
- Keeping a mate company.

What's your excuse? Stalking your ex?

- Hey.
- Or running away from your nympho mum?

Oh, you make me sick!

May I remind you that
once we enter the silence

only Sandra and myself
are permitted to speak.

And now let's all join hands and
make one final vocal emanation

before we embark on our
journey of self-discovery.

Aaaaah!

Aaaaaah!

Aaaaaaah!

Aaaaah!

Wrap your senses around your raisin.

Look at it. Put it between your fingers.

Examine the colours.

The folds.

Smell it.

Now close your eyes.

Experience the raisin against your lips.

Does your raisin have a sound?

Ecstatic dance

unites body, and heart and mind.

Each of us is a moving centre.

That's it. Just relax it out.

A vessel of divine mystery.

Listen to your inner music.

Find your sacred space.

Ah! Aaah! Feel it. There we are.

And then brush it out.

Brush it out. Brush it out.

Yesssss!

That's it, everyone.

Oh!

Ask yourself,

what does my inner child need to
complete the journey into adulthood?

Experience the fluidity of the senses.

Listen with your eyes.

Look with your tongue.

Smell with your ears.

Hm.

Oh!

Hm!

When the heart weeps for what it
cannot have, the spirit dances.

- Namaste.
- Oh!

No wonder he has bad dreams.

- Lily!
- Or blacks out and forgets where he's been.

- Lily, can you come out?
- It's a self-defence mechanism.

Oh, well, let's hope it's contagious.

Lily!

Lily!

- Lily!
- Mum, what are you doing here?!

I wrote you a letter.
Just to try and explain...

I am not interested.

I think she wants you to leave, old lady.

Are you threatening me, too, now?

Bit late for that, isn't it?

- Mrs Rattle?
- Oh, Hamish!

Hamish, come over here. Quickly.

Oh, they're all crawling
out of the woodwork now!

I thought I told you to stay away from us.

Oh, yes.

Yes, you both made that really clear.

Hamish, you...

you poor, sweet boy.

This is private property.

Go, quietly.

Why?! Now my dirty little secret's
out, I've nothing left to lose!

Hamish. Now we must start therapy again.

Now you can come to my home. Any time.

Over my dead body.

I don't understand, Mum.

Lily. Please. Will you come home?

I'm not going anywhere with you ever again!

Fine.

I'll sleep in the car, Lily.

I'm-I'm not going without you!

Apologies. Silence will resume.

Peace and tranquillity, eh?

This is the bathroom. We've
turned the water off at the mains

so that you can enjoy a
more authentic experience.

Complimentary gift for you.

- Thank you.
- Namaste.

- Namaste.
- Namast... um... yeah.

Horny goat weed extract with maca.

A natural aphrodisiac.

How thoughtful.

Well, look, I-I'll take the first shift.

You, er, you get some kip.

Yes, er...

Er, yeah, I'll, er... I'll just...

- Just so I can...
- Yeah, I will, yeah.

SPRING BOINGS Ooh!

You have the most exquisite nose.

How have I never noticed that before?

And your face is all blue.

Orange. It's green.

Oh, Frank!

You are alive with prettiness.

Oh!

What have you eaten this morning?

Nothing.

Oh, I did have a cup of tea

that Sandra left out for Hamish, actually,

but, erm...

..he was still sleeping and I was
just gasping for a cup of tea.

So I just had it!

Looks like you fell off the wagon.

Why would Sandra be feeding
her son magic mushrooms?

Hamish?

Where's Hamish?

Ssh!

Can you hear the fairy singing?

Oh, Frank!

Just take a few statements and come back.
Then we can go over it.

What are you doing here? We're
in the middle of nowhere!

What's happened?

A body was discovered this morning
by a man walking his dog.

- Strangled?
- Yeah.

Photo ID in the handbag suggests
the victim is Polly Rattle.

I'm guessing she was killed

some time between five
and six this morning.

What was she even doing round here?

She was waiting for her daughter.

- Any witnesses?
- Er, yeah.

Suspect's already in custody.

Says he was sleep-walking

and when he woke up he was
standing over the body.

He was still here when we arrived.

Hamish?

- No!
- You are?

Rex. Olson.

I'm Hamish's father.

Stepfather. You know he had
nothing to do with this?

- We were together. Foraging for nettles.
- In his pyjamas?

Yeah, I'll need you to come
to the station, too, sir.

This way.

You were supposed to stop me!

I told you something terrible
was going to happen.

You were supposed to stop me.

I feel horrible.

Yeah. Drink that.

It'll help to bring you down.

Do you think he did it?

Kid doesn't like physical
contact, jumps at his own shadow,

can't even decide how to take his tea,

let alone summon the wherewithal
to strangle another human being.

Oh, you had eyes on?

Yeah, in case one of us fell asleep.

Or accidentally consumed magic mushrooms.

We were hired to do a job.

And we failed. A woman's dead...

..and either our client killed her
or he's going to take the rap

for something he didn't do.
Either way, it's on you.

Drink up. Get dressed and get packed.

Can we take the fairy with us?

Yeah, put it in the case.

I took shrooms on my 18th birthday.
It was a really bad trip.

I shaved off all my chest hair and then
I tried to shave the neighbour's cat.

- I thought you were allergic to cats.
- Not without fur I'm not.

Why are we having this conversation?

Hamish confessed on the tape.

Said he probably murdered Polly.

Just can't remember how, when or why.

I mean, that's 15 years minimum.

If he doesn't do something stupid first.

Right, er...
What do we know about the victim?

Polly Rattle, aged 47, recently separated,

currently being dragged
through the divorce courts.

Ex-husband?

Living in Mallorca with his
new 22-year-old girlfriend.

- Ouch.
- Professional life?

She's a psychotherapist and school
counsellor at Kronborg Sixth Form College.

Only she was sacked two days ago
when these explicit photos...

Easy. I've just had my lunch!

..were posted online.

- By?
- Uzoma Oladapo.

- Also at Kronborg.
- So that was Polly's dirty little secret.

She was having an affair
with one of her students.

Sebastian, I want you to run background
checks on all of these names,

and check for anything suspicious
on the camera footage.

Why? Where are you going?

Back to the retreat, of course!

Leave this with me. Hey...

Where's everyone going?

That crazy woman from
last night was murdered

down the road so they had
to cancel the retreat.

That-that's awful.

You're that lady that was
bugging out this morning,

right? Yeah, I saw you on your way out.

I slipped the shrooms into
Hamish's teapot last night.

- Why?
- That boy needs to loosen up!

But there's plenty left over.

If you want to go again.

I could show you my sacred space?

Oh, yeah, that would be great, yeah.

Just as long as you remember to take
some explicit photos, post them online.

She took advantage of me.

Tried to make her old man
jealous and then dumped me.

Nah.

Nah, I did what any self-respecting
young man would do.

I shamed her.

Nice. Right.

And this revenge porn, it
made you feel better, did it?

- Worked?
- What?

You think I killed her?

Don't judge me, you stuck-up cow.

At least she had a life.

People like me see people like her
cos ours are never really started.

Polly was my counsellor and she was
supposed to be looking out for us

but instead she started working
me, just like everybody else.

So, yeah. She's dead.

And I ain't shedding no tears.

Cos personally I would have loved
to see her suffer a lot longer.

What was all that shouting
about last night, anyway?

Oh, come on, you're supposed
to be Hamish's friend!

He could go down for a long time for
this if we don't find out who did it.

Sandra hated the fact that
he was seeing a counsellor.

Didn't believe in therapy.

But it was Rex who gave Polly the creeps.

Said once that she didn't trust him.

Why not?

Guess you'd have to ask him.

He was right, though. I was judging him.

And if that counsellor had been a man
and the student had been a girl,

I'd have been spitting tacks.

It doesn't mean he didn't do it.

No, he meant what he said.

He felt like death was too good for her.

Have you heard from Sebastian?

Nah, I couldn't get a signal.

It's like the bloody
Bermuda Triangle round here.

Complete with extra-terrestrials.

We need to get back inside.

I'll keep Christina busy.

You go and have a poke around.

Ah. If it isn't the Gruffalo
and the Big Bad Mouse!

What are you two doing here?

I think I left my make-up bag upstairs.

Oh, OK, well, off you go, then, in the
interest of public safety and all.

Polly was having an affair with
one of the students at college.

Uzoma Oladapo.

OK, I'll follow it up, but there's no reason to
suspect that anyone else was involved at this stage.

What, even though you haven't got a motive?

Well, if Psych decide that Hamish has got

a dangerous and severe personality
disorder, then he doesn't need one.

He's made a full confession

and his prints are all over the car.

But what about his alibi?

Have you found any nettles?
Cos I saw some down there.

Frank, go home.

- By the tree.
- Uh-uh - we're done.

Can I help you, Mrs Stern?

I was... just looking for the
bathroom, actually.

The truth. Now.

Or I'll call the police.

Er, we're private investigators.

Hamish hired us before he was arrested.

I don't care who you are.

You've no right to go
snooping round our bedroom.

Hired you for what?

We're not at liberty to say.

But we think he's innocent and
we're going to try and prove it.

Please... help him.

Why didn't Polly Rattle trust you?

- Who told you that?
- Is it true?

I was hoping to borrow
some money from Hamish,

when his trust fund matured.

He mentioned it to Polly during
one of his counselling sessions.

- She didn't approve.
- What did you need the money for?

The financial upkeep on
this place is crippling.

When I met Sandra at a retreat last year,

I was so keen to impress,

I offered to pay off the mortgage
when I couldn't afford it.

Stupid, I know. But once I'd said
it, I couldn't take it back.

How much money was in the trust fund?

I don't know exactly.

I think about 30 grand.

But I swear I-I never touched a penny.

Is there anything else I can help you with?

Oh, yes.

Is there anywhere in this place
that you can get mobile reception?

Yes!

- Shakesp...
- Sebastian!

How did you get on with
the background checks?

Hamish's mother. Sandra Kingly.

44. Ex investment banker who gave
it all up after beating cancer,

according to her blog.

OK. Next.

Uzoma of the chiselled cheekbones.

National Chess Tournament quarterfinalist.

But home life tells a sorry tale.

Excluded from two schools and
three different foster homes.

And then there's nothing
much coming up for Hamish.

Then we have Rex Olson.

Owns a struggling garden
maintenance company. 58 years old.

Blimey. He's looking good for his
age, isn't he?

That must be the vegan diet.

So, er, any-anything show
up on the camera footage?

Yes.

We have Sandra delivering
tea soon after five.

And you sneak out and
drink it two minutes later.

And then at 20 past five,
while you're communing

with a higher power, Lily
Rattle enters Hamish's room.

Lily?

Hamish runs out ten minutes
later, clearly distressed.

Lily follows soon after.

Is he, er, ex-military?

- He's a gardener.
- Who might be snaffling his stepson's savings.

Do you think? I don't know,
he seems really fond of him.

He's got a photo of him
as his screen saver.

Rex tells me you're private investigators.

Yeah, I'm Frank Hathaway and this
is my partner Lu Shakespeare.

Partner in a non-romantic sense.

So you exploited the undercover
nature of your assignment

so you could share your colleague's bed?

Er, Hamish came up with a cover story.

Oh.

Yeah, right now all we're really
interested in is clearing Hamish's name.

That boy would not hurt a fly.

You don't know where we
could find Lily, do you?

She's sleeping in the drawing room.

I gave her some valerian.

Try and calm her down.

- We just need a word.
- Oh, you need to hurry up.

Her dad's on his way from the airport.

This might sound harsh,

but, you know, things happen for a reason.

Perhaps she needed to be here.

With us. To help her
through her spiritual pain.

Well, go on, then.

- You.
- No, you. Go on.

- Now.
- We'll just knock.

Go on, yes!

Lily?

Lily?

You should have told the police.

No, you don't understand.

It was my fault.

I provoked him.

How?

I only enrolled on this stupid retreat

cos I-I wanted to win him back.

I was trying to...

seduce him.

I woke up early, and let myself
in through the side door,

and then slipped into his room
and climbed into his bed.

We never slept together
when we were going out.

It-it was supposed to be a surprise.

He freaked out.

I thought I was going to die!

Do you, er, know where he went?

I, erm... I rushed back to my yurt

and tried to pretend like the
whole thing never happened.

Do you think he killed my mum?

Do you?

He used to be so sweet and uncomplicated.

And then...

..something changed.

Last summer. I...

I blamed my mum.

- Why?
- She started counselling him.

Told me Hamish was a
very confused young man

and that I should stay away.

I thought she was meddling.

Cos a week later,

at his mother's wedding,

he dumped me.

In public.

I've wished her dead so many times!

I even fantasised that it might bring
Hamish and me back together again.

Like maybe we could bond.

Over losing a parent or something.

I never imagined it would feel like this.

I have to go. My dad's outside.

You said he lost a parent.
What happened to his dad?

He-he said he died when he was a baby.

Erm... I don't know how. When I
asked him, he didn't seem sure.

I didn't ask him again.

- Why not Lily? She had motive!
- Yeah, but killing your own mum?

God knows I've been tempted. But
up close and personal like that?

Besides, I don't think she's
even got the physical strength.

I know you don't want to hear this,

but could it not have
been Hamish all along?

We can't ignore the fact that he
tried to strangle his ex-girlfriend

less than an hour before Polly was found
murdered in exactly the same way.

The boy's clearly got issues.

No, what if he has got some
kind of personality disorder?

Maybe there's a whole side to
him we've never even seen?

Yeah, and why was Sandra so dead
set against him having therapy?

I mean, all that banging on
about spiritual journeys.

You'd think it was right up her street.

What did Polly know about
his past that Lily didn't?

- Yeah.
- How did his father die?

We need to see his notes.

I'm going to have to go to
Kronborg Sixth Form College.

No offence, Frank, but I don't think

you'd pass for some kind of
optimistic youthful sixth former.

I do not understand how you can
pollute your body with this muck.

Oh, and there's no ale.
I didn't have my ID.

- Are you OK?
- Nut...

allergy!

Epipen!

Hurry!

Sorry. I'm feeling fine now.

I must have been free associating.
I'm super sensitive like that.

Still experiencing distressing dreams.

Blah blah blah. Flashbacks to past trauma.

Question mark.
Doesn't trust his stepfather.

Oedipus complex question mark.

Query violent tendencies.

Dissociative amnesia...

Some kitten doodles.

Erm, 4th January,
making great progress in RMT.

Recovered memory therapy.

It's a way of retrieving traumatic
memories buried in the subconscious.

On verge of breakthrough, apparently.

- And then?
- Nothing.

- That's where it stops.
- But that was over a month ago!

- Well, had she been away on the sick or...?
- Nope.

No, she's been seeing
other students since then.

So why not Hamish?

She does have a personal safety alarm.

Maybe Hamish threatened her?

No, she seemed fond of him.

Or someone else did.

Sandra.

We'll see you back at the office.

What was she so afraid he might remember?

That she would kill to
avoid him finding out?

The bank just phoned.
Hamish's cheque bounced.

What, his account's empty?

The trust fund doesn't exist.
At least, not under that name.

The cheque came from a current account.

What did the background
checks turn up on Hamish?

Just GP's address.

Educational history.

Vaccination records.

- Going how far back?
- 2005.

No birth certificate?

Nyet.

Try Hamish Fitzroy.

Erm...

cos I found this in his
mother's trinket box.

Born 1974.

2013...

Try 2nd February, 2000.

Yes! Born in Gloucestershire.

Only has the mother's name listed.

- Gertrude Fitzroy.
- So Hamish was adopted.

- Looks like it.
- But he doesn't know.

And Sandra failed to mention it.

Do you think this is what she
was scared he might discover?

Like he might go and find his real mum?

She's neurotic and controlling enough.

- We need to speak to Gertrude Fitzroy.
- Could be difficult.

Death certificate issued
February 12th, 2004.

What did she die of?

Strangulation.

Nothing in the Severn Times.

- Anything in the Gloucestershire Star?
- No, not yet.

Oh, hang on, this could be something.

Crime of passion...

"Trial continues of a Gloucestershire
man accused of strangling his wife"

"to death after finding her
in bed with his brother."

So Hamish's dad didn't
die when he was a baby.

Do we have a name?

Claude Fitzroy.

Eh... Oh, Frank!

What?

"The body of Gertrude Fitzroy was found the
following morning by her four-year-old son."

That would explain the
dissociative amnesia, then.

Poor Hamish.

Yeah. Maybe the reason Sandra
didn't want him in therapy.

You need to get back to Wittenberg. Find out
what Sandra knows. I'll meet you there later.

Why? Where are you going?

I'm going to check in with Marlowe.
See what happened to Claude...

- Fitzroy.
- Fitzroy.

Why dredge this up now?

I have dedicated the last 14 years of my
life to protecting Hamish from his past.

He needs to live in the
present and move forward.

The nightmares. The anxiety.

The-the behaviour changes.

They all began once he
started seeing Polly Rattle.

Did you threaten her?

Sandra, you're under no obligation
to answer these questions.

I am enough.
I have enough and I am doing enough.

I accept myself now and my situation.

I did what I had to do to protect my son.

But you killed her?

Don't be ridiculous!

I left a message on her phone last weekend

and told her that if she
didn't stay away from Hamish,

I was going to report her
to the head for having

an inappropriate
relationship with a student.

- Last weekend?
- Yes.

Hamish and Uzoma were
at a chess tournament.

Uzoma was bragging about his
relationship with Polly, apparently.

But Polly stopped seeing
Hamish over a month ago, so...

- Inspector!
- I think you'd better sit down, Mrs Kingly.

Why, what's happened?

I think you'll find the therapy
didn't trigger Hamish's nightmares.

- What?
- You're upsetting my wife.

Hamish started seeing Polly soon after
you and Rex got married, is that correct?

Mm-hmm.

And what was the nature of the
ceremony, out of interest?

An informal, humanist affair.

Not legal, then.

No. Rex and I don't believe
in institutional ties.

Oh, good job,
cos Rex Olson's already married.

It's funny but, er, Rex's wallet
was stolen last spring...

Shortly after this man was released

from Stokesley Vale Prison.

Claude Fitzroy was released last February

after serving 13 years for murder.

- Sorry, are you saying that Rex...
- Claude.

The man pretending to be your
husband is Hamish's father.

He's also the man responsible
for killing Hamish's mother,

Gertrude Fitzroy, in 2004.

He was using you

to worm his way back
into Hamish's affections.

And it would have worked, wouldn't it,
if Polly Rattle hadn't turned up?

Hamish. Now, we must start therapy again.

Now you can come to my home.

Go.

- Quietly.
- Why?!

Now my dirty little secret's out,
I have nothing left to lose!

You didn't know what she already knew,

but you realised if Hamish
continued with the therapy,

it was only a matter of time
before she worked it out.

You couldn't let that happen, could you?

Lily, darling?

I warned her to back off weeks ago.

That's when Hamish stopped his therapy.

Hah, but you see,
what you couldn't anticipate

was that Hamish would sleepwalk his
way into yet another nightmare.

All that kept me going
for 13 miserable years

was the thought of winning my son back.

Yeah, I might have used you to begin with,

- but...
- You're a poisonous snake.

Claude Fitzroy, I am arresting
you on suspicion of murder.

All I wanted was
a second chance!

You do not have to say anything...
- All right? - ..But it may harm

your defence when questioned if you do not
mention something you later rely on in court.

Thanks, guys.

- I suppose I...
- Please, you're welcome.

We always made a good team.

Yeah.

Mum?

Has-has Rex gone now?

Yeah.

Huh?

I have no idea.

- ET?
- No.

- The Muppets?
- What?

Is it a Minion?

Look... Hang on.

Oh, it's, erm, it's one of
them, it's-it's Ewok,

- the Ewok thingy... - Yes. Yes!
- The thingy, the-the... agh!

Doctor Who!

Sorry to interrupt when you're
clearly working so hard,

but you have visitors.

- Greetings. - Mrs Kingly! Hamish.
- Hi! How are you both?

Yeah... I got an offer to study
veterinary science at York.

- Well done.
- Congratulations!

And I brought you a cheque.
It won't bounce this time.

- And we're started therapy. Together.
- Yeah.

I see now that we have to acknowledge the
past so we can fully arrive in the present.

That's really brave of you, Sandra.

I've got something for you.

Is that Yoda?

Yes, Yoda! Yoda, see!

Yoda. Ah.

Did you know that he was
actually 0.663 metres in height

and it only took him 100 years
to become a Jedi master?

Wow!

Ta da!

- Oh, it...
- That's really thoughtful of you.

I hope you can find the
courage, too, Frank.

You know, to face uncomfortable truths.

This - it's textbook stuff.

Fear of intimacy.

Narcissism. Emotional constipation...

Well, it's so kind of you to pop by

and I sincerely hope you
never have the need again.

But we are extremely busy
today, so if you don't mind...

Sorry. Thank you.

Namaste.

So... Emotionally constipated.

It's a textbook case.

Namaste.