Sister Boniface Mysteries

How dark seems the night,

when we comprehend the dangers therein.

More fear!

And how small and alone is man,

when at the mercy of a ravenous beast!

Will this great and terrible bear tear apart...

Well, keep going!

Tear apart my very soul -- Honestly?

Look, is this the best we can do,

great and terrible bear-wise?

On our budget, yes.

She's trying to make me wear a dress.

It's a to-- It's a toga. - You'll look heroic, darling.

Look, just take your position behind the boulder.

What if I'm on the boulder?

This is my scene.

It won't be a soliloquy with him

preening himself on a rock. - "Preening"?

Just stand behind the boulder if you please.

Right, from the top!

How dark seems the night --

Sorry. Um, just need a minute

to set up the great and terrible bear again.

Refreshments incoming!

Don't bother, Derek.

Apparently it's time for another break.

Tea drinking,

about the only thing you lot do with any conviction.

Just popping out for more yellow.

Thought the back cloth needed a jolly sun in the sky.

"The Cursed Arrow" is a tragedy, Miss Thimble.

But you said "a child sky over desolate heath."

A wild sky, Dottie, and the playwright said it.

Well, I suppose that makes sense.

One wild sky coming up. - Sir.

I brought it straight over, sir. - Aha!

Well, the regional arts fund are offering a very generous grant

for "most promising cultural endeavour."

I don't quite follow, sir. Is this a police --

What? - Is it a police matter?

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

And the grant committee...

The grant committee will be

coming to our first performance.

Ooh!

Yes, our beg-borrow-and-steal years will soon be over!

Stay and give us your critique on act one.

No, sir, I can't. I'm a bit busy at the moment.

Right.

Pressure's on, company -- deliver a cracking performance

and we'll take the sad out of G-SADS once and for all!

Tis true I neglect my manly duties

and allow my womenfolk to pine,

but can any mortal resist

the lure of the ultimate prize?

More pathos, less panto.

And where are the lights?

This is a serious drama, not burlesque!

Or a Nazi interrogation.

I'm coming up.

We're coming through. Come on, chaps!

Convent cast-offs!

Should get a few togas out of this lot.

Perfect. - Wish I could help more, but...

You're on.

It's basically a semi-circle with a flat bit at the bottom,

one size fits all.

You are a godsend, Sister.

Godsend.

Ambrose Chance must be spinning in his grave.

Yes, the esteemed playwright.

Great Slaughter's most famous son.

Some might say second most famous,

after Monty the albino shire horse, but let's not dwell.

I hope this will pass muster.

It's... magnificent.

I think a round of applause is in order.

Positions, company! From Mateo's entrance.

Who this way comes?

Tis Mateo, a huntsman.

See how he sharpens his arrows,

unaware this innocent quiver will seal his fate.

Tis true I neglect my manly duties

and allow my womenfolk to pine,

but can any mortal resist the lure of the ultimate prize,

a creature so white it must have been hewn from moonlight.

Pick them up and carry on, man!

Shoot me, darling.

Someone has returned.

How are you, my brave soldier?

No. - You gave us quite a fright.

Steady. - No, no, no, it can't be.

Where are you going?

The artistic temperament?

Now where's he going? - I think he needed some air.

And I need a large whiskey, but we've got a play to put on.

Might be time to call it a day, Chief Constable.

Excuse me. Thank you.

I'm going in there. Thank you!

Excellent. Bow and arrow?

Perfect. Stag runs into clearing?

Needs work.

Right, knife into flesh?

Ooh, marvellous!

And finally, a roaring fire?

Jolly well done, old chap!

Right then, Derek, let's get this on, shall we?

We have to raise our game.

The smell should fade.

I really don't want to.

Pull your finger out, man,

and remember what I taught you. - But...

We've been in worse predicaments than this before

and come out victorious.

Alright, I'll do it.

Excellent. Company, gather ye round.

Now, we come to the technically most demanding scene.

Callista stabs Mateo

in a tragic moment of bloody vengeance.

Positions!

Please, I just wish you would tell me what's going on.

Just leave it. Trust me, you don't want to know.

Come on, please. - Lights!

I come to you in spirit form to offer you a choice.

Admit it was your arrow that slayed me, or feel my vengeance.

I take my orders not from she-demons,

but from mortal men.

Line!

Thank you, Tom.

What's done cannot be undone.

Then your fate is sealed!

Come on, man, you look like you're waiting for a bus.

My life ebbs away.

Is this guilt pouring from my veins?

Eee gods, lights!

Lewis, Lewis. Thank you.

Lewis, far be it from me

to put pressure on an actor,

but imagine the entire future of G-SADS,

the -- the hopes and dreams of a community,

rest on your performance.

Yes? Good. I'll call an early lunch.

You can run your lines with Myrna.

A-a-a-and listen...

do it for her.

Do it for Ambrose.

Do it for the Loch Ness monster for all I care,

just don't step on this stage

till you are ready to give us some drama.

I rue the day I convinced Ambrose's widow

to let us have that play.

It should have stayed in the drawer where she found it.

It was rather a coup, though, Vera.

His only unperformed work.

Maybe it was never performed because it's so terrible.

Wait! Let me explain! It's not what you think!

It seems "The Cursed Arrow" is cursed in more ways than one.

We have a problem.

Just add feuding thespians to our list of woes

and we shall soldier on in true G-SADS spirit.

No, an even bigger problem.

BAPs.

Crack yer head in a paper bag. BAPs!

Barnsford Amateur Players.

Dear. - Dear with tights on.

They're doing "King Lear."

First performance on Saturday.

Are they after the grant money?

Is Roger Farnaby a Scotsman?

Is he a Scotsman?

No idea. All I know is he's Hector's nemesis.

So I expect complete focus,

which means leaving your egos

and petty squabbles at the stage door, understood?

Now, the death scene is our ace in the hole,

so please, let us make it convincing.

That won't be a problem. - Good. Right.

Greek chorus, to your places. We'll run from page 48.

But soft, what messenger from the netherworld approaches?

She who was wronged has returned for vengeance.

Mateo, I come to you in spirit form to offer you a choice.

Admit it was your arrow that slayed me, or feel my vengeance.

I take my orders not from she-demons, but from mortal men.

What's done cannot be undone.

Then your fate is sealed!

Eureka!

My very life ebbs away.

His very life ebbs away!

Is this guilt pouring from his veins?

Lewis! - Cut! Bravo!

Well done, Lewis. Best performance so far.

More corn syrup in the blood, perhaps?

Right you are. - Right, let's go again and die

inside the spotlight this time, please.

My. Someone call an ambulance!

Very little blood loss,

which would suggest the blade penetrated straight to the heart

or possibly the aortic root,

resulting in more or less instant death.

Is that glue? - Apparently so, yes.