Scream Queens

There was a time when a college dean

had real power.

The university was a kingdom unto itself,

like a church in the Middle Ages.

Crazed killer.

Serial killer.

If a student got murdered,

the dean had the juice to keep the press quiet

and the cops from making a scene.

Dean Munsch, tell us about the murder.

What can you tell us about the murder?

We can confirm that an incident occurred

that may have injured one of our students.

- We need some information. - (reporters clamoring)

But I can tell you that the campus is open

and classes are resuming and frogurt is back,

after popular demand, in the dining hall.

But in the age of Twitter, students were Instagramming

pictures of the crime scene and posting

narcissistic Facebook posts about where they were

when it happened before the police even arrived.

I've got news for you, self-involved junior,

just because you know a guy who was in class

with a dead girl's roommate

does not mean that it could have been you.

Dean Munsch...

There's an exodus right now.

Kids don't feel safe,

parents don't want to take a chance,

and the press is calling me Dean of Murder U.

Well...

Not on my watch.

Girls, this is Detective Chisolm.

He's here investigating the beheading

that happened in your garden last night.

Where is Ms. Bean and Chanel #2?

It is pretty suspicious they're not here.

Well, as far as I'm concerned, all of you are suspects.

It was only a matter of time before things got out of hand

at the sorority and someone got killed.

We don't want any of you leaving campus

until we get to talk to all of you,

get a better sense of what happened.

Y... You can't keep us prisoner here.

No, he can't.

But none of you are excused to leave.

So, if you do, you will be graded

on every missed test and class assignment.

And this investigation could take weeks,

which means it's most likely

that you will fail out of college.

Wh... Gigi, you can't let her do this.

If someone is targeting you,

they're gonna find you wherever you are.

You know? And at least if you're here,

you can keep an eye out on each other.

We can make it fun, huh?

Like a Friends episode.

But someone's, you know...

trying to murder all the friends.

Good.

Then it's decided.

Detective, there's a sushi bar

that I love...

You guys, Gigi is right.

We have to move into the house. It's the only way

we can look after one another.

That's insane, okay?

Pledges cannot move into the house.

The risks are real, but we need to close ranks.

If any of you die while protecting a sister,

you're allowed to skip the rest of Hell Week.

And I'm gonna hire security.

I don't feel comfortable with a man protecting me.

It's representative of the patriarchal,

post-colonial culture that encourages violence

against women.

Always...

saying what everyone is thinking.

Ladies...

I got this, okay?

I got it.

We've got to get rid of the body

before the new security guard finds it.

Ideas. Go.

We buy a pig and feed it the body.

Pigs will eat anything.

Oh, yeah, Number Five, let's just mosey on down

to the hog district and bring home a 400 - pound sow.

That's not conspicuous at all.

My uncle owns a dairy farm in Wisconsin,

and they have these poop lagoons.

They're, like, ten feet deep,

and in winter, they freeze over.

And my uncle told me and my sister, like,

"Don't go skating on those poop lagoons,

"because if you fall in, you'll drown in the poop

and come springtime, there'll be nothing left of your body."

Do you and your sister have some form

of intellectual disability?

Because if I encountered a lake of frozen poo,

literally the last question I would ask is:

can we ice-skate on this?

I know what you should do.

This isn't what it looks like.

She's asleep. Chanel #2 is asleep.

Don't worry, we're sisters.

: I won't tell anyone.

When I was six years old, my father died,

and my mother made me kiss the body at his funeral.

Ever since then,

I've been obsessed with death.

Here's what you should do.

Pulverize her teeth,

burn off her fingerprints and disfigure her face.

Once her body is unrecognizable,

we can create an incision on her inner thigh

and drain out all of her bodily fluids.

That'll give us more time to deconstruct the body.

Ew! What?!

Because truly grinding down a body takes a lot of work.

You need a really good

food processor,

and you run the risk of fouling the plumbing,

which is why you should only do it if you know

how to clear out meat and bones from a drain pipe.

Each of these plans has its drawbacks, but don't worry.

I'm willing to help in any way possible.

You're obviously a psychopath and those ideas are insane!

So, no, we won't be putting her in

a food processor or boning her like an enormous chicken.

We're gonna put her in the meat locker

for now and revisit the question

when I'm not totally grossed out by you

- and feeling like I'm going to barf. - Okay.

Grab the duvet and wrap her up.

We should touch her.

If we touch her, she won't haunt our dreams.

Wait, why would she haunt our dreams?

And if her eyes are open,

she'll take one of us with her.

Take with her? What the hell are you talking about?!

Why are you trying to terrify us?

Can I call you Mom?

What? Please?

I feel so loved and protected by all of you.

Wait, you want to call all of us Mom? That's insane.

And super confusing.

Actually, it's a new pop culture trend

where young women desperately in need of role models

call other girls they look up to Mom.

Lorde's fans call her Mom.

I thought you'd be cool with it.

I mean, I did just give you

several ways to dispose of a body.

Fine, okay, you can call all of us Mom.

Let's just lock the body in here and forget

- any of this ever happened. - Wait, Mom.

We shouldn't lock her in here. If we do,

her soul will be able to escape, and then it'll follow us around.

Okay, fine. Just stop talking.

You are so friggin' creepy!

Ladies, this is Officer Hempville.

Officer, we are so happy...

Excuse me.

Where did you find her?

Well, I knew we needed

a top-notch security company,

so I let my fingers do the walkin'.

I checked the Yellow Pages.

What's that?

Officer, we're terrified.

Okay? Someone just mowed off a deaf girl's head

in our backyard.

Well, ladies, you have nothing to be afraid of

so long as I'm around.

Though-though technically, I'm not a police officer.

I mean, as you can see, I'm not licensed to carry a sidearm.

I am employed by Secure Enforcement Solutions,

which is private contractor

hired to work in tandem with campus security.

Wait, so you don't have a gun?

No, I do not.

But I do have...

a nightstick, okay?

I have pepper spray.

And I have a walkie talkie that I can use

to call the police, who do have guns.

What good are you?

We can call the police ourselves.

Well, with Denise Hempville on the scene,

you're not gonna have to.

Now, I-if there is a killer on this campus,

Denise Hempville's gonna make damn sure

that everybody in Kappa House is safe and sound

until that killer is brought to justice.

How?

I'm glad you asked.

With the Secure Enforcement Solution three step program.

Right? Step one.