The Real Ghostbusters (1986) s02e35 Episode Script


Ghostbusters! ♪
If there's something strange ♪
In the neighborhood ♪
Who you gonna call? ♪
Ghostbusters! ♪
If there's something weird ♪
And it don't look good ♪
Who you gonna call? ♪
Ghostbusters! ♪
I ain't afraid of no ghost ♪
I ain't afraid of no ghost ♪
Who you gonna call? ♪
Ghostbusters! ♪
Who you gonna call? ♪
Ghostbusters! ♪
Good evening, sir.
The survivors are eagerly awaiting
the reading of the will.
I asked them to. Very good.
Mr. Kingsword?
Yes, Povervoy.
Did Miss Grisley leave me anything?
Not a cent.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
And now, the will.
And the killer is
Larry, the plumber.
Larry, the plumber.
Why don't you ever allow us
the thrill of discovery?
I guess I'm just too good
at figuring out mysteries.
Underachieve once in a while, Winston, OK?
Yeah, I'll think about it.
Not even a goodbye.
Oh! Yeah.
Let's order from a different pizza place
next time, OK?
Hey, you guys,
we're going to the Agatha Grisley mansion!
Winston, we already guessed that one,
it's on the worksheet.
No, no, this lady is the all-time
best mystery writer.
She died a couple weeks ago.
Yeah, how?
Trying to keep you from
guessing her endings
before she got them down on paper?
Are you kidding?
The reason she was the best is because
her stories were
the hardest to figure out.
Huh. Must've ran out of hangers.
Let me do the honors.
I loved this lady.
I guess they have
trouble saying no to salesmen.
Right out of chapter 12
in the Murder on the Hoboken Express
I'm getting strong readings, Peter.
There's definitely ectoplasmic activity.
Must he do that?
Good evening, gentlemen.
Yo, guys.
He's talking to us.
It's just like I thought it would be.
What a surprise.
Like kids in a candy store.
May I take your coat, sir?
Well, I don't know.
Hey, what the heck. Here you go, sport.
Ever since I took the will
out of my briefcase,
things have been a little
unusual around here.
You may be right.
Besides everything you see here,
we've had objects floating in the air.
Smoking guns materializing
from out of nowhere.
And bodies appearing and disappearing.
That was just like something out of
an act in the Grisley book.
Uh, don't mind him, sir, he's a fan.
I assure you, we'll get
to the bottom of this
I suppose you're all wondering
why I called you here.
It's this bonus room that
really sells this property.
This is where Miss Grisley
wrote all her books!
From the look of this meter,
there's still a lot going on in here.
This is just like the 1945 Chicago
Slime Creeper Room incident.
What the
Hey, I never wanted to be taller.
I don't even like basketball.
You know, there's a game showing all this.
Nothing terribly exotic in here.
See, neatness doesn't count.
Even novelist eat fresh fruit,
discard the peelings like apes in zoos,
it's part of the creative process.
A clue!
Raul's revenge.
I've never read this one.
I think that's because
it was never finished,
let alone published.
Hey, guys, don't make a fuss,
I'm OK, really.
Page 321 is as high as the numbers go.
And this one ends in
the middle of a sentence.
Possibly the poltergeist activity
stands from Grisley's ghost
not wanting to leave until
her novel is completed.
And the killer is named.
You might have
that one right, Ray.
These all seem to be
beginnings of the last page.
And each one of them makes
the killer a different person.
It's all beginning to make sense.
The manifestations
are probably incidence from her book.
She's prompting us to finish the story,
so that her spirit can rest.
Right, so what we should do then
is get some clues from
the spectral activity
going on throughout the house.
While I read the manuscript
to figure out the ending on my own.
Yeah, once we solve the mystery,
the ghost should be satisfied.
It'll be all over.
The question is, all over for who?
Her or us?
Not us.
Anyway, that's our theory.
You got a ghost who needs an ending
and then she can split.
These are the good kind,
chocolate all the way through.
Thank goodness.
I thought we were doomed
forever to powdered sugar.
Oh, no, I'm a careful shopper.
Egon says the PKE readings
are hardest on the second floor.
So, that's where we're gonna
start the search for clues.
To the hunt!
The hunt!
I can tell it's gonna be lots of fun.
Looks like this is
gonna take a while,
we better split up.
Kiss me, you wealthy Jezebel.
But it wouldn't be right, you French cat!
I pledged my troth to another man,
a decent man.
A man with a really great car.
Forget decency, forget motor vehicles!
That's awful dialog.
But it won't,
it's a best-seller, you know.
Cheat on me, will you, Debbie?
I haven't even made
the first payment on that Ferrari.
It's my fiance, I hope he's not mad.
I just got the tape
that can stall this morning.
What rude men!
They didn't even say goodbye.
Read faster.
It wasn't man enough
to run you over with his car.
He had to poison the milk that you drank.
There, there.
Where, where?
The cyanide in her milk took her quickly.
It's true, you know,
cyanide is an incredibly
efficient substance.
All this outward grief
has given me terrible indigestion.
A little milk always
does the trick for me.
That's poison!
Where is that terrible
organ music coming from?
You tried to kill me!
Oh, no I didn't, I
I forgot, I
Try and forget this!
Soon, you'll be able to use
your little gizmo on yourself, mon ami.
-Hi, Egon.
-Hello, Winston.
Could you read a little faster, please?
Want me to read it out loud to you?
Thank you, that won't be necessary.
Just end the mystery
before the mystery ends us.
Nothing upstairs.
Maybe a ghost in the refrigerator.
Won't be the first time.
Well, at least I can rule out
tropical fruit as a murder weapon.
Peel and dice those vegetables!
Stew is tonight's entree.
Sorry, but I don't do vegetables.
Yes, a rhubarb,
a little green pepper can make a meal.
Who's coming to dinner?
Everybody in Norway?
Run, lady!
This guy gets nasty
with animal substances that don't move.
Yeah, I know some people hate
the smell of garlic, but me
I see you can't have
You crushed my vegetable, Egon.
I was following you.
You poisoned my luscious Debbie.
You couldn't stand the way
she laughed at your ugly car.
I said, "Please take
this gun off my head."
Grisley got paid for writing this?
Nobody said life was fair.
I bet you could level
the house with that thing.
That Ray, oh, he's kidding
about things like the destructive
fire power of major military weapons.
Care for a helpful snack while your read?
Thanks, Pete.
Roquefort blue cheese or low cal Italian?
Roquefort, thanks.
Good book?
I'm almost done
and I think I know who the killer was.
I was the only man
who really loved Debbie.
When I cooked dinner,
she ate like a horse.
This was her favorite food.
She can't eat this anymore.
Well, among other things she can't do.
If she can't, nobody should.
And nobody should do
anything else anymore either.
Read faster, Winston.
I'm reading, I'm reading.
Where is the "off" switch on this thing?
There might not even be
a real "on" switch.
There's a chance that this is
a spirit manifestation that doesn't work.
But there's a chance that it does.
But there's a chance
that it doesn't.
But there's a chance that it does!
- But there's a--
- Look can we just pretend,
that we're gonna be
obliterated in about 45 seconds, OK?
This isn't very good.
That is Debbie's cake! Not yours,
you jump-suited ninny!
I'm glad you decided
to blow us into another dimension.
Maybe Debbie and I can be together there.
Be sure you take some cab fare,
your car will probably breakdown.
Then at least I won't have to eat
any of your depressing food.
This little cracker
spread with the liver of a silly goose
makes you sad?
Then weep, you fool.
I think an explosion would go
unnoticed at this point.
I know who did it!
Yes, Winston, it's the usual bomb they put
in these kind of cakes. Now, who did it?
Uh, the doctor.
Debbie ran up a huge build
from all the emergency
caused for severe indigestion
from that bad gourmet food.
She refused to pay his bill
and made fun of his car,
so he gave her poison
in her last medication.
I suspected as much.
Ah, well, atleast now we can rest.
Oh, Mr. Zeddmore,
how could I ever thank you all for
finishing my greatest and last mystery.
I say, that's my coat.
You can get rid of the bomb.
We just can just see it as a table lamp.
It was a little
melodramatic, wasn't it?
My coat disappeared.
It's the last page. And look,
"This story is dedicated
to Winston Zeddmore
and his fellow Ghostbusters."
It's the youngest aunt,
she had the pocket knife.
Yes, but she bought it from
the dwarf at the ball park.
Maybe it was the home-plate umpire.
He was pretty testy
after he got that foul tip in the face.
Yeah, but he was philosophical about it.
So was the dwarf.
We just got the confession.
It was
The burglar!
The chauffer.
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