TLV Abridged: Scene 9 - Getting Even/Infestation - Part 2

Technically the movement from "Getting Even" to "Infestation" (which is to say the epilogue to the former and part one of the latter).

*Now something's seriously wrong with this picture.*

Farmer McLaughlin: There's Bridget, and Cora and---

Farmer McLaughlin: Wait, that's not Cora.

Farmer McLaughlin: Come on outside, you two. Your friends miss you. *thinking* Please don't eat me.

*are disinterested*

Farmer McLaughlin: Well, suit yourselves.

Cora: Oh, that's a good stretch.

Betsy: Next time he comes in, we eat him.
Cora: I don't know. He's a little stringy, not to mention overripe.

Flint: Cheer up. Knowing you, we'll find some other poor sap to pick on.
Nigel: Not today, Flint. I'm not in the mood.

Nigel and Flint: Oh, shit. There he is.

Tony: Losers.

Nigel: Don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact.

Tony: Well, how do you punks feel?

Tony: I'm the movie star, and you're a subplot. Deal with it.

Nigel: *is slightly annoyed*
Flint: *has accepted his fate*

Tony: But don't feel too bad. I'm your lord and master now.
Girl in the back: What in God's name is going on?

Tony: (actual dialogue) Carry these.

Nigel and Flint: Yes, master.

Tony: *is kind of liking the sound of that but won't show it*
Bystanders: *are wondering if the McAshton boys have been replaced by pod people*

Tony: Now. March!

Bob: Oh, God, these things are bulky.

McAshton: Stupid monocle. Why can't I sport something normal, like reading glasses?

Bob: Permitted I'm not forced to move for any unforeseen reason, such as Lord McAshton's untimely death, this is where the golf course will be in three months.

Rookery: Not if I have anything to say about it.

McAshton: Jesus Christ!

Rookery: Miss me, my lord? You can't dodge my phone calls forever. I know where you live.

McAshton: I'm being stalked, too?
Guy in back: Is this the sort of person this man does business with?

Bob: Who's this weirdo?

Rookery: Today I am the bearer of bad but necessary tidings. Your village, my lord, is overrun with undead vermin.

Rookery: I'm speaking, of course, of--

McAshton: That's enough. I want no more of your nonsense.

Rookery: Not nonsense, my lord. The truth.

Bob: (to himself) Could this have anything to do with...

Rookery: Now, you and I need to discuss this matter, immediately.

*is stunned speechless*

Bob: (to himself) Naaaaah. There's no way. Is there?

*awkward laughter*

McAshton: Do you have any idea the damage you're doing to my reputation?

Rookery: Take your pick: Your reputation or a town full of lives you've allowed me to save.

McAshton: You'll have to excuse me whilst I kindly dispose of this mental institution escapee.

Rookery: *is more than slightly offended*
Butler: Well played, sir.

*awkward laughter*

Bob: Clearly, that guy's crazy.