Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

"Sometimes the six swordsmen ritually beheaded the virgin."

- This way, sir. - Goodbye.

I think I'll manage, my lord, but it does seem to shrink a little each year.

it is I who will live again, not your damned apples.

be made aware that here the old gods aren't dead.

No matter what you do,

You, Sergeant, are the right kind of adult,

And you can wrap it up any way you like. You are about to commit murder.

But there's no record of Rowan Morrison's death,

I understand you take the harvest festival photographs every year.

♪ Be never still, cuckoo... ♪

I trust we aren't going to have to let out your costume again this year.

A man who would come here as a virgin.

You can have peaches and cream, if you like.

If she existed, we would know her.

"and wearing the still-warmed skin like a mantle,

Aye, that's right. Sergeant Howie, West Highland constabulary.

♪ In the woods there grew a tree

♪ And she said

[May] What a silly girl you are to make all this fuss. It's just a little frog.

- Names from the Bible. - Yes. They were very old.

[Geese squawking]

♪ The landlord's daughter

In the last century, the islanders were starving.

[Approaching drums]

Little Kaz loved the March hares!

This is a police matter.

I'm sorry. It was worse than I remembered it.

♪ I'll not forget that happy night

♪ For patching and plugging is his delight... ♪

[Willow] Sergeant?

to the life forces in another form.

I am not obstructing you, Sergeant.

where is the rotting body of Rowan Morrison?

- Well, isn't it? - I think you ought to know...

Well, that's it, the crops failed.

♪ It was upon a lammas night

[Solo] ♪ Skipping o'er yon narrow creek

[Excited conversation and laughter]

No, thank you, not just now.

I expect they've all been exported.

And now, for our more dreadful sacrifice

- This is my daughter, Willow. - Good evening.

♪ A stroke as gentle as a feather

This is Sergeant Howie, a policeman from the mainland,

Where does your minister live?

Aye, aye, it's very nice.

The children find it far easier to picture

She doesn't belong to this island.

♪ Mine own could not take hold... ♪

♪ have received of the Lord

But what of the true god

'A complaint has been registered

"'And a man-fool, Punch,

under circumstances of pagan barbarity,

[Woman] No, I've not see her. I've not seen her at all.

[Howie] "Here lieth Beech Buchanan,