Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

of a rich rubber plantation owner named Jonathan Connors.
You and that voodoo. I told you not to use them.
[ Speaking French ]
She might be the long-missing daughter...
And a Boston banker can surely afford a full price for his fantasy.
Believe me, it was my pleasure to serve you.
And we want you to know it was worth every penny of that $51. Yeah.
That's terrific, Carlyle. Let's go get the cots from the bedroom,
She never suspected that she wasn't who we told her she was.
Oh, uh, by the way, where are the other campers and their parents?
Were they?
What possibly could be wrong when you have given me...
Already too late. Come.
Those voodoo people took her away and killed her!
You know that isn't true. It can't be.
Just the two of them out in the wilderness,
Fifty-one dollars?
You'll have to tell Jamu that I don't wanna hurt him.
Just exactly what is their fantasy, Mr. Roarke?
♪ [ Humming Continues ]
Yeah.
And he's all alone out there. You know he's afraid of the dark.
Welcome to Fantasy Island.
bring them by the fire. Yes, I'll help.
I am going to write a letter to Ralph Nader.
My watch. Yes, Tattoo?
Oh, thank you. Thank you. I think--
Well, there's one sure way of finding out.
Now, if that's agreeable, naturally.