01x09 - Ghost Stories

Previously on Scream Queens...

What took you so long?

There were two devils. Dos diablos.

I can't live like this.

Okay, all I do is work out and kill people.

(girls screaming)

Pinky pledge that you will be monogamous to me.


Oh, Chad!

I never take second place.

I don't stop till I get what I want.

Man: Joaquin! (woman calls out)

Is that him?

Damn straight I'm out in public.

I'm the master of disguise, baby.

Dude, dude, uh, uh, Gladiator, right?

Like, "Are you not entertained?"



Yeah, yeah, oh!

I love him.

Yeah, what?

Yeah, no, no, everyone thinks I'm Joaquin Phoenix.

I-I just tell them it's part of my performance art piece.

Yeah, yeah, okay, so we're agreed.

We take Gigi out tomorrow night.

You come after Boone, and you best come correct.

This has always been about you and me.

Have to talked to Zayday lately?

How is she? Yeah, yeah.


Oh, my God.

I got to call you back.

Boone? No.

I'm Joaquin Phoenix.

You're Boone. You were killed by the Red Devil, which means...

Fine, okay.

You caught me.


A ghost?


Yeah, I'm-I'm the ghost of dead Bo-o-one!

And you've come back to get revenge on me for saying you couldn't be a pledge Kappa.

I'm so sorry about that.

Please don't kill me.

I'm sort of gay now, too.

Please... (whimpering)



Listen up, hog-faced sluts.

Just because tonight's our last night at Kappa House before we're forced to evacuate campus, doesn't mean you get to mope around acting all sad!

Why would we be sad? This is a house of death.

Six people have been murdered here in a month.

Now we finally get to leave.

Why are you dressed like that?

Well, Einstein, Thanksgiving is next Thursday, and if any of you stupid whores ever cracked a book every now and again, you'd know I'm dressed as Sacagawea.

She helped the pilgrims with their first harvest on what is now known as the first Thanksgiving.

No she didn't. You're thinking of Squanto.

Um, no, Squanto was friends with the Lone Ranger.

Sacagawea guided the Lewis and Clark expedition.

What? No way.

Sacagawea taught the pilgrims how to make cranberry sauce and then, like, sang "Blue Corn Moon" or something.

That was Pocahontas.

Damn it! Are you serious?

I'm trying to impress Mr. and Mrs. Radwell, and I just spent two hours dressing up as the hag who didn't realize she was the third wheel on Lewis and Clark's gay camping extravaganza?

Wait, what? You're meeting Chad's parents?

Oh, did I bury the lead?

I must have forgotten to tell you ladies about Chad's proposal.



That's right, Chad and I were enjoying a very romantic Compliment Night.

You're so hot you give my bone a bone.

Thank you for that compliment, Chad.

Whew! Chanel?

You know how you've been talking about taking our relationship to the next level?

Whew! (gasps)

Oh, my God, this is happening!

This is really happening!

Chanel Oberlin, will you... accept this silver turkey wishbone necklace and accompany me to the Hamptons to spend Thanksgiving at the Radwell Family Compound?

You're gonna meet my mom, my dad, my brothers Thad and Brad.

My house... Awesome!

It's on an 50,000-acre cranberry orchard that my great-great-great-great grandfather Prentice Radwell bought off the Shinnecock Indians for six glass beads.

Wait, that's what he proposed?

A trip to his compound?

Uh, sorry if you're jealous, bitches, but every girl that's gotten a Radwell Silver Turkey Wishbone Necklace has gotten an engagement ring by Christmas.

Except for one girl, I guess...

Yeah, her name was Debbie and she and Thad were dating, but he didn't give her a Silver Turkey Wishbone Necklace, so she was not invited to Thanksgiving, but showed up anyway and hung herself in the orchard, and, uh, now the whole house is haunted.


Yeah, like, you know, like, the furniture just starts screaming, or, like, you'll crack open a Mountain Dew and you'll start to drink it and then it'll just turn to blood.

We're gonna have, like, the dopest time.

So let's all raise a glass to me.

The Radwells are the perfect American family.

And Chad wants me to become a part of it.

So I actually don't care that tonight's the last night of Kappa Kappa Tau, because I have successfully used this sorority for its proper, God-given purpose.

To be part of a sisterhood and make lifelong friends.

Ew, no, for making me popular enough to get a hot, rich husband.

Guys, both our families are loaded.

I am about to be, like, super rich.

Not if the ghost murders you first.

Or follows you home and murders you here.

Or if you get murdered tonight because it's the last night of Kappa Kappa Tau and it seems highly likely that the killer will come after us.

Like I said... a toast... to Chanel.


Group: Kappa.

You're not finished packing yet?

I was sure Miss Type-A would've had it done by now.

I was actually thinking I might just hang back on campus for a couple of days.

You know, maybe take advantage of the quiet, do some more investigating.

Pete said he'd stay with me.

I bet he did.

But no way I'm gonna let you be the only box of macaroni left in the Red Devil's cupboard.

Your dad won't, either.

To hell with my dad.

Zayday, he lied to me about the most important thing in my life...

Who I am, where I come from.

And now he wants me to just forget it and spend Thanksgiving with him and that psycho Gigi and her weird recipes?

No way. I'd rather stay here.

The campus is shutting down.

If you want to figure all this out, you can do it from the safety of my grandma's house.

You can't spend Thanksgiving alone.

And if you're sure you want to punish your dad and blow him off, then you can come with me and have O-Town Thanksgiving with me and all my cousins.

Oh, I am so glad neither of us have been killed.

Aw, that's so sweet. Me, too.

Now let's finish packing.

Ah, okay.

I don't understand why you're making us bubble wrap each item of clothing.

Are you kidding me?

How much did this dress cost?


Uh, yeah, okay.

When something costs $63,000, you wrap it in bubble wrap.

Besides, bubble wrap is fun.

Mmm... I think because I'm not allowed to carry a firearm, I like to pop the little bubbles, and then pretend like my finger is a gun.

(scream echoes)

Okay, sorry, I can't keep this a secret any longer.

I am personally being haunted by a ghost.

What? You heard me.

Late last night I was walking around campus, and I saw the ghost of dead gay Boone.

The ghost of dead gay Boone is walking the earth.

We had, like, a full conversation.

(laughs) That is so stupid.

Because ghosts don't exist.

Oh, really?

Then why won't my hands stop shaking?

Because you're hungover.

Of course I'm hungover.

You know why I had to get hammered last night?

Because I saw the ghost of dead gay Boone!

Wait, you-you-you seriously saw a ghost?


It was... terrifying.

Ooh, that is creepy.

Being haunted by a ghost who's stalking the campus on your last night at Kappa House, the night all of you are most likely to be murdered.

Put down the bubble wrap down.

Let's gather round the fireplace.

Come on, children.

(quietly): No...

Momma Denise is about to scare the living bejeezus out of you with some real scary ghost stories.

Wait, what?

No, please.

We're already terrified.


See, when I get scared, and I feel like, like ISIS done broke in my house, I tell myself real scary ghost stories.

And then my fear of the ISIS is replaced and I'm scared of the Candyman, who returns from the dead when you say his name five times.

Candyman, Candyman...

(quietly): Candyman, Candyman, Candyman...

Or the hitchhiking old lady with the hairy arms just like hers, who disappears when you stop for gas.

But there's a butcher knife in her purse, except you didn't see it the first time, 'cause when you checked, wasn't nothing in there but knitting materials.

And then there's a Japanese ghost story called "The Kappa."

There is not! Come on!

Denise: Oh, yes there is.

Look it up.

Them Japanese got all manner of weird-ass ghost stories.

And the one about the Kappa is the creepiest of all.

They live in the sewer.

(eerie laughter, echoing)

And they just waiting for you to sit your ass on the toilet, so they can reach up and grab your ass, snatch you by the v*g1n* and...


And drown your crushed body in raw sewage.

The... end.

I, for one, loved that.


I know y'all feel better now!

Now you're scared of the Kappa.

You're not even thinking about the serial killer on campus or the ghost that's stalking you.

Yes, we are!

That story just made it worse!

Okay, okay, okay. I hear you.

Momma Denise knows you're still scared.

So you just might need another ghost story.


This Japanese ghost story is called "The Red Cloak."

And it's about a ghost who lurks in women's bathrooms.


Why another story about a bathroom?

I'm just telling the story.

The Red Cloak waits until you run out of toilet paper.

And then he makes you choose the red roll or the blue roll.

(water splashing, door slams)

If you pick the red roll, he'll slit your throat!

And the blood will run up, and look like you're wearing a red cloak.

But if you pick the blue roll, he will strangle you until you turn blue.

And it'll look like you're wearing a blue cloak.

The... end.

I know y'all feel better now.

No, we don't. No more ghost stories!

Or at least stop setting them in bathrooms!

Chanel: I really have to pee.

But there is no way I'm going anywhere near a toilet.

So if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go look for a salad bowl to squat over under the stairwell.


Does somebody need another ghost story to scare away the heebie-jeebies?

Yes, I'm really enjoying myself.

(vacuum sealer buzzes)


(air hissing)

(door creaking)

(buzzing stops)

Hey, Chad.

(sighs) So it's true.

You have come back to haunt us.

Listen, you probably already know this because you saw it from Heaven, but I kind of had s*x with a few girls in your bed after you died.

I didn't mean any disrespect, just kind of wanted that feeling of vacation s*x, you know?

And I love the haircut. Thank you. Nice.

Dude, you are so warm... I thought ghosts were cold or... vapor or something.

Everything you think you know about ghosts is a lie, Chad.

Ghosts walk among you every day; you would never know it.

Only us ghosts know who is a ghost and who isn't.

(whispers): Of course.

But why are you back? I mean, I'm super stoked you're here, it's just so much has gone on since you killed yourself.

I mean, I had s*x with that security guard.

That neck brace girl.

Took off the neck brace... Got hot, like, overnight.

Caulfield... (whispers): he got his arms chopped off, then his head.

Aw. Both the twins are dead.

Just wasn't the same without you here, though, bro.

(sighs) I've come back for the same reason all ghosts come back: to finish some unfinished business.

Which is why I'm here.

I need to borrow your "date shirt."

My "sure thing oxford"? Why?

I've come back to take Zayday Williams on a really nice, expensive date that will totally impress her.

Hold up.

You know Zayday's a chick, right?

Boone... did you forget you're super gay?

(chuckles): Um, yeah.

But I don't want to be dead anymore, bro.

Look, if I can get Zayday to love me and have s*x with me, I can stay on Earth.

Wait, how does that work?

Haven't you ever heard the phrase, "Once you go black, you never go back"?

Yeah. That's how it started.

Yes, Boone! Of course, man! I want you here.

I want you back in the world of the living, man.


You do know that Zayday is dating Earl Grey, though, right?

I wouldn't worry about that.

I'll talk to him, straighten him right out.

Oh, no!

(whispers): Which one do I choose?




(gasping, grunting)

(choking, coughing)

(grunting, gasping)


(gasping): No!

No, no, no! No, no, no!

I just got my hair done!




(gasping breaths)


The killer just attacked me in the bathroom.

We have to get out of here!

We ain't goin' nowhere!

Not until I hear another ghost story.

If I don't hear another ghost story right now, I might just have a stroke!

But if we stay in here, then the killer could come in and chop off your head!

(chuckles): Well... that's just a chance I'm willing to take.

Nope, we ain't goin' nowhere. Besides, Denise Hemphill is not gonna make it down that crazy, overly dramatic staircase without having a damn heart attack!

Will someone please just tell a scary story so we can get out of here?

Okay. Fine.

I have one.

Let's all sit by the fireplace.

It happened in the 1950s.

A sorority sister was returning to campus after getting her license for the first time.

She was supposed to leave at lunchtime, but she got delayed at a weenie roast or sock hop, when suddenly, she found herself on the road (whispers): in the middle of the night.

♪ Hey, everybody, did the news get around ♪
♪ About a guy named Butcher Pete? ♪
♪ Oh, Pete just flew into this town ♪
♪ And he's chopping up all the women's meats... ♪

Newsman: We interrupt Roy Brown to give you an emergency news bulletin.

William Masterson, AKA the Meat Hook Killer, has escaped from maximum security Breslow Asylum where he was being held for the grisly murders of ten people.

The public is recommended to lock their doors, stay inside and avoid the area around Lake Ross.

♪ All you fellas got to watch your wives ♪
♪ 'Cause Pete don't care whose meat he chops ♪
♪ He's hackin' and whackin' and smackin' ♪
♪ He's hackin' and whackin'...

(truck's horn blows)

(horn blowing)

♪ Hey, law... ♪
♪ He's hackin' and whackin' ♪
♪ Choppin' that meat! ♪

(horn blowing)

(tires screeching)

(tires screech)


Please! He tried to kill me!



Man: Call the cops!

What the heck is this?

Her car.

There's someone in the back seat of her car.

He was gonna kill her.

I was trying to warn her.

(horn blows) Every time he popped up...

I would honk and flash my high beams to scare him back down.

Come on!

(Chanel #5 screaming)

I don't understand... if he escaped a mental institution in the middle of the night, then where did he get a meat hook from?

'Cause he's the Meat Hook Killer.

The story would suck if there wasn't a meat hook in it.

Denise: Let me just say that that scares me but good.

I feel my blood pressure coming down, and I'm not gassy no more.


We can all leave now.

The killer could still be out there!

Well, he's probably gone by now.

Exactly like we should all be.

I mean, if we've learned anything from all of this, it's that he's crazier than us and smarter than us.

And even though we seem unwilling to do whatever it takes to survive, he's not gonna stop until all of us are dead.

He is the predator, and we... are the prey.

The only way to stop the killings... cut off his food supply.

Wait... When did he start eating us?

Yeah. Well, you know, you guys are more than welcome to stay here and be the next on his list, but I am leaving campus immediately.

(sighs) Not that it matters.

I wouldn't put it past him to hunt all of us down, one by one.

Let's wait and hear if she makes it downstairs to make sure the killer isn't still here.


♪ No, no, no ♪
♪ Love cuts just like a knife ♪

Are there any direct flights from Oakland to London?

(groans) It doesn't matter.

'Cause I'll come to you.

You know... we haven't actually kissed yet.

♪ Don't wanna fall in love ♪
♪ No, no, no ♪
♪ Love cuts just like a knife ♪
♪ Woo, woo ♪
♪ You make the knife feel good... ♪
♪ Baby... ♪

(grunting): Ah, ah, ah...

(laughs): Where are you going?

(pants) I want this to be perfect.

I need my lotions, my silk robe, my sensual massage oils, a bottle of champagne, and chocolate-covered strawberries.

You have all that in your room?


Listen... (kiss) ten minutes.


(clattering, footsteps)



I thought you were dead.

Yes. I am his ghost.

I am Ghost Boone, but you can just call me Boone.

Nice shirt.

Thank you.

You know what it's made out of?


Boyfriend material.

So listen, the afterlife is kind of a weird place.

Um, I don't know if you know this about me, but...

I was a pretty amazing person when I was alive.

And because of that, when I got to Heaven they offered me whatever I wanted... but I said what I want more than anything... is to come back down to earth, as a ghost... and make sweet love to Zayday Williams.

A couple times.

Maybe we can even date for a little while.

There's just one problem.

I don't believe in ghosts.

Well, then how do you explain me being here?

You faked your death.

Grace: Hey, Zayday, have you seen my...

(gasps) Oh, my God, Boone?

Boone is in here trying to seduce me with the oldest line in the book: he says he's a ghost.

Wait. This all makes sense... Of course you would fake your own death... so no one would suspect you. Are you trying to say I'm the Red Devil Killer? 'Cause that's insane.

We both know how you got this birthmark on your hand!

From when I stabbed you in your evil lair.

You're coming with us!

Come on!

Come on, come on!

(grunting, shouting)

(body thumps)

What's going on? It looks like you saw a ghost. We did.

No, we didn't. Boone was upstairs.


Yes, except he's not dead!

That makes no sense.

How can Boone be a ghost if he's not dead?

Because he's not a ghost.

Chanel #5: This is insane!

If we stay in this house, we are all going to die!

I mean, why are we even still here?!

I am not staying in this house for a moment longer.

I am leaving right now and I am going home.

Number Five, don't go... actually I'm totally fine with her leaving.

As you were, ladies.

(hissing breaths nearby)


(coughs, pants)

(continues panting)

But I... I thought you were dead.


("This Town" by The Go-Go's plays over radio)

♪ This town is our town ♪
♪ This town ♪
♪ It is so glamorous... ♪

Radio announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt The Go-Go's to give you an emergency news bulletin.

There is currently an APB, or all-points bulletin, to be on the lookout for Boone Clemens in connection to the recent Red Devil killings.

Boone is very handsome but police are requesting that you not approach him, as he may be dangerous.

He also may or may not be gay.

Now, back to The Go-Go's.

(song continues)

(truck horn blaring)

(horn continues blaring)

♪ Change the lines that were said before ♪
♪ We're all dreamers, we're all whores ♪

(tires screeching)

♪ Discarded stars, like worn out cars ♪

(tires screeching)

♪ Litter the streets of... ♪


What is the matter with you?!

Call the cops. There's someone in the back seat of your car.

He was going to kill you.

I was trying to warn you.

Every time he popped up to get you, I would honk and flash my high beams and it would scare him back down.

Okay, well, I'm really sorry about that, but you have to admit that what you were doing was super confusing.

There's no one back here.


I could have swore I saw someone.

Granted I am pretty high on Adderall and I've been on the road for 35 hours straight.

But I'm telling you, he was there.

He had this machete looking thing.


(tires squealing)

(tires screeching)

(vacuum sealer buzzing)

Hester: So why not me?

Okay, first of all, do not startle me while I'm packing.

I take packing very seriously.

I was just in a zone... now I'm out of the zone.

I just want to know why it isn't me you're taking home for Thanksgiving in the Hamptons.

First things first. It's Hester, right?


Okay. Hester.

What is going on with the neckbrace?

My spinal column was collapsing, so I decided to bedazzle my neckbrace and put it back on.

Honestly, you're the first person to even notice that I'm wearing it again.

That's how seamlessly it goes with my designer wardrobe.

But you haven't answered my question.

What, as to why I'm inviting Chanel to Radwell Thanksgiving and not you?

Okay, let me see if I can explain this (to someone who's A) Not a psychology major (and B) Clearly doesn't get the fact that I've obviously been ignoring you.

Okay, here are the top five reasons I'm not inviting you to Thanksgiving: Reason number one.

Last time we porked, I heard a tiny little squeal like somebody letting air out of a balloon followed by the smell of death.

I feel like you farted.

Reason number two.

You wear a huge flippin' neckbrace.

That means you've got bum genes and those bum genes would pollute the Radwell gene pool.

Reason number three.

Your breath, it always smells like you just ate a cheeseburger. Seriously, it's like making out with the Hamburglar.

Reason number four.

You, my friend, have a poo belly.

Might have something to do with all the cheeseburgers.

Reason number five.

Uh, this just in... you're not rich and Chanel is loaded.

So, huh, doi, Neckbrace, that's who I'm bringing home to meet my parents.


I guess we'll just have to see how it goes bringing Chanel home for Thanksgiving.

Yeah, I guess we will see, as that's what's going to happen.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Yeah, we will wait and see, as Thanksgiving is an event that takes place in the future and therefore it hasn't happened yet.

We'll see.

Yep, sure will.

As the arrow of time flows in one direction, causing future events to flow inexorably towards us.



Okay, just so we're clear, I only caught this kiss... so I could throw it away.

(vacuum sealer buzzing)

I can't do this.

I can't believe it.

Earl Grey is dead.

It had to be Boone who killed him.

You know what I can't believe?!

I cannot believe that no one is comforting me after I was almost murdered by the Red Devil, who was in the back seat of my car and then barely escaped as some poor old truck driver was hacked to death with a machete!

And then, you know, I thought I'd at least get some props for coming back with such an amazing scary story.

Chanel: Actually, Number Five, that story is neither scary nor amazing.

That story is an exact facsimile of the Hook Hand story Hester told about an hour ago.

Honestly, if you're going to get attacked, please attempt to get attacked in a fresh, exciting way.

We have to concentrate... The pieces of this puzzle are coming together.

Yes, we know now that Boone is the Red Devil.

There's more than one Red Devil, moron.

Well, now we know Boone is one of them.

Which means he's probably the baby in the bathtub.

Zayday: We should call the police.

They've got to find him.

Grace: Already did. The police put out an all-points bulletin and Denise is aiding the manhunt.

The police aren't going to help us.

You can't stop a ghost.

Oh, my God, I'm so freaked out.

Will someone please tell a ghost story?

Hester: I have a ghost story.

It's a good one.

It's about a girl who never fit in.

As much as she tried to be popular, the mean girls were always trying to tear her down.

They could never see past her neckbrace.

She soon realized the only way to get back at these girls would be to screw Chanel's boyfriend, Chad Radwell, and wreak ultimate vengeance.

What? That's right, Chanel, her name is me.

And guess what, bitch, I'm pregnant!

This is insane.

Looks like I'll be going to the Hamptons for Thanksgiving with the Radwells.

(quietly): Guess who's top bitch on campus now, Chanel?


Are you still packing?

Uh, excuse me for taking pride in a quality pack job, Chanel.

Packing matters to me.

That's why I chose to minor in Luggage Sciences with an emphasis in Packing Theory.

Is it true about Hester?

She's pregnant.

(sighs heavily)

(quietly): Oh, man.

Oh, no.


I really screwed up.

So it's true?

(Chad sighs)

I guess so.

I mean, most of the time we porked in a way that could not result in pregnancy, if you know what I mean.


But I always knew I had a sackful of strong swimmers.


I'm sorry, Chanel.

Look, I'm as pissed off about this as you are.

That Hester chick is weird.

Tossing her the bone was not even all that fun.

But I guess I got to marry her now.

Take her home to Thanksgiving.

Wait, what?!

I'm sorry, Chanel, that's just how the Radwells roll.

We make our beds and we lie in them.

We lie in them with our creepy neckbraced scoliosis wives.

But look... you could still be my piece on the side.

No, this is not happening!

I will not tolerate being treated this way, do you understand?

This is the last straw.

I'm sorry, Chanel. I am.

I-I... I just don't get what you want me to do.

I want you to pay.

Okay, uh, hold on. What?

You heard me.

You are gonna pay, big-time, for this, Chad Radwell.

You might even just pay the ultimate price.

Ultimate...? Wait, hold up.

Did you just threaten to kill me?

Chanel, are you the killer?

I guess we'll see.

Chanel #3, #5...

I owe you both the most heartfelt of apologies.

Remember when I said that the only thing a sorority's ever been good for is scoring a hot, rich husband?

Well, I have never been so wrong.

Kappa House is, and always has been, first and foremost, a sisterhood and I have never needed my sisters more than I need them now.

Yeah, okay, apology accepted.

Hold on.

I am not just going to accept any old apology, Chanel.

I mean, you treat me like garbage every single day.

Am I just supposed to ignore the obvious fact that you hate me and love nothing more than playing super-humiliating pranks on me?

Why do you always have to make everything about you?

Like, remember that one time when you hacked into my mom's e-mail and wrote me this really long letter explaining how I was adopted and born with fetal alcohol syndrome and therefore, had an IQ in the low 60s?

I'm sorry, but that was hilarious.

I stand by that prank.

Look, Number Five, sisters don't always get along, but that doesn't mean they're not sisters.

Chanel: See? Exactly.

Thank you, Number Three.

Okay, now that we're a sisterhood again, we have to figure out a way to get rid of Chanel #6.

When you say get rid of her, do you mean, like, force her to leave, or kill her?

Honestly, Number Five, do you think I'm insane?

The bitch seduced my boyfriend into getting her pregnant.

Of course I mean kill her.

Chanel, you cannot just run around murdering people.

Okay? That just means you're the killer.

It makes her a killer, not the killer.


Okay, I just-I just don't understand what killing Number Six is going to solve.

Um, hello! Everything?

Number Six will be dead, I'll get back my invite to Thanksgiving at the Radwell Family Compound in the Hamptons, and I'll be back on track to getting the only thing a sorority's ever been good for...

Scoring a hot husband with an enormous family fortune.

Wait, you just said that you don't care about any of those things and the only thing that really mattered to you was sisterhood.

Yeah. That was when I thought I had taken our lifelong friendship for granted and had lost it forever.

But now that I see we're stronger than ever, i.e. planning a murder together, I can concentrate on the things I care way, way, way more about than sisterhood, e.g. hot husband, extreme wealth, et cetera, et cetera. Try to keep up.

The logic's not that complicated.

Now, come on... murder, ideas, go.

I understand that you're very upset, but this is a critical time in our investigation.

Now, Deidre is the best sketch artist in the business.

So, if you can just close your eyes and do your best to describe Boone, we can get a drawing of the suspect out on the news.

You already have, like, 50 photos of him!

Oh, dear God.

Boone faked his own death.

He has been walking around campus in a disguise for weeks.

He's murdered 13 people.

We need to call, like, the FBI or something because this is clearly out of your capacity as a detective.

I happen to agree with you.

Which is why I've asked Paul Cameron to come assist with this investigation.

I'm the founder of an organization called the Department Of Paranormal Exploration or DOPE.

Chisolm: I feel it may be time to let you ladies in on a little secret.

Since these killings began, I have focused my investigation on a single theory...

That the perpetrator of these murders was not being caught... because he's a ghost.

Oh, my God. Now, these recent developments have proven, much to my horror, that I am right. If I may, I'd like to set up some of my equipment to get some electromagnetic field readings.

Maybe see if the microphones pick up any ghost chatter.

Now, I must warn you, if your boyfriend was murdered, he may not be ready to pass over, and may come pay you a visitation.

If that happens, I beg of you, do not have s*x with him.

What is wrong with you? He's the best in the business.

He had a callback for that show on the Syfy Channel where they run around with the night vision goggles. Look, let me handle this.

Oh, like you've handled all this so far?

All you've done is sit back and watch as we've gotten picked off one by one.

Earl Grey was a good man, with powerful arms and a sexy accent, and now he's dead.

His blood is on your hands!

I'm sorry, Dean. She's wrong.


She's not.

You know, the only benefit of meeting you is that I now know I clearly have a type, and that type is a moron.

I am not only gonna make sure that you are taken off this case and fired, but I'm gonna make sure that everyone you know knows that when we had s*x, you asked me in baby talk if you could nurse from me.

Please show yourself out.

If you came here to apologize, we're not interested.

Oh, I never say I'm sorry.

I've done what I had to do for the sake of this school and my career, both of which will be here long after you or any of the students here are gone, either through graduation or death.

I am shocked that your husband left you.

I do have something that might be of interest to you about that night in the tub.

There were two babies.

A boy and a girl.


After I sent your mother and her two slightly less bitchy friends out to get pillow cases and shovels, the girl in the tub let out a death rattle that was so loud and powerful that she expelled a second child from her freshly dead womb.

I knew it!

Congratulations... on making this moment all about you.

Are you saying that Boone is the boy baby?

My money's on yes.

That newborn had that same... cocky smirk that Boone has.

The one girl in the bathroom who seemed to have any humanity took the babies.

That was the last I ever saw of them.

But how did the babies end up in a mental institution?

More importantly, how did the babies end up with Gigi?

I mean, I was wearing the "sure thing oxford,"

I used the cash Chad gave me to get this awesome hotel suite, and I basically told her that my soul could not be at rest unless she got naked with me. Seriously, what kind of person just turns their back on someone's soul like that?

You know, I'm beginning to think she's not as amazing as I thought she was.


Where is Gigi? Didn't you tell her midnight?

Hey, did I show you the knife I got at the Army supply store to kill her with?

It's super fly. You're gonna love this.


Ouch. (chuckles)

(lock beeps, clicks)

(door opens)

Oh. I see that you're enjoying the good life. Don't start with the judgment, Gigi, all right?

I've had a really tough day.

You know, there's an all-points bulletin out for your arrest.

You jeopardized a plan that was almost 20 years in the making when you kidnapped Zayday. Then... you disobeyed my instructions to only come out in the Devil costume, and strolled around campus in broad daylight disguised as... Joaquin Phoenix.

That disguise was brilliant, which is more than I can say for you, Justice Scalia.

I'm not finished.

You then... have the brilliant idea of actually going to Kappa as yourself, wearing a date shirt and trying to convince Zayday to sleep with you... because you're a ghost.

Boone... you are... the weakest link.

I spent the first few months of my life motherless, living off scraps of garbage and stolen milk.

I grew up in an institution surrounded by people that called themselves Timothy Busfield and ate their own poop.

We've followed all your rules, gone along with all your plans, but I'm the one who spent four years of my life learning how to slow my breathing and heart rate down to the point where even a trained coroner would declare me dead.

I studied film makeup for eight months straight, and practiced on the patients, so I could create the perfect slash mark on my throat.

Boone: I pretended to be gay, and went undercover in the Dickie Dollars scholars, and I was the one who masterfully pretended to attack you with a chain saw just to get the scent off you.

Are you about to break into song?

Because all I'm hearing out of your mouth is, ♪ Me, me, me, me, me.

So yes, Gigi, for once in my life, I went rogue and took a little something for myself.

My mother would have understood.

But, of course, you don't.

Because no matter what you like to pretend, you're not her.

(whispers): What are you doing?

I'm sorry, Gigi.

We're done taking orders from you.

We're grown-ups now.

It's time for you to go.

What? No. No.

No, no, no! No! (gasps)




Your commitment to revenge is... clearly greater than your brother's was.

Should we get some room service?

Hester: I have to say, Chanel,

I am delighted and shocked that you're letting me keep whatever clothes I want... It's really big of you, considering the whole "I'm pregnant with your boyfriend's baby" thing.

Well, honestly, the more I thought about it, I just realized that I love Chad so much, and part of loving someone is loving every choice they make, regardless of how selfish and destructive it is, you know?

Thank you, Mommy. Oh, and if you want to start calling me Mommy, now being that I'm the one that's gonna actually be the mommy, I'm totally fine with that.

Number Six, before you try on that kimono, why haven't you had any of this sushi?

I mean, we got it just for you.

Mm, don't mind if I do.


Mmm. That's so good.


Oh, and do yourself a favor, have a little slice of that soft, unpasteurized cheese.

It makes any sushi that much more delicious.

Mmm! You're right.

Oh, and, Hester, you have got to taste this champagne.

It's a special champagne with triple the alcohol and a... nicotine-y mouth feel, because it's infused with tobacco.



Chanel: Liar!

Hester: What the hell is going on?

You're trapped in a web of lies, whore.

You just had sushi, soft cheese and alcohol...

Three foods that are damaging to embryos.

Which means you're not pregnant! That's not true!

I didn't know anything about the whole... sushi-cheese-alcohol thing!

Fine! Prove it.

You're not leaving this room until you've peed on every single one of these pregnancy tests.


Hmm... I had all three of you fooled, didn't I!

Fine, you got me. I'm not pregnant.

But it doesn't matter, because Chad still thinks that I am, and being that he already purchased our first-class airfare to the Hamptons, that means that I'll be the one attending Thanksgiving, where I'll have ample opportunity to get pregnant all weekend long!

(gasps quietly)

Chanel (screeching): I'll kill you, Neckbrace...!


Hester, I'm sorry.

What did you say?

Hester, I am so sorry.

I'm sorry you've had to go through life feeling like an outcast, and...

I'm sorry that I got angry that Chad's clearly chosen you over me.

It's just that ever since you walked through those doors...

I knew you were gonna be the one to take it all away from me.



(scream echoing)

(Chanel gasps) (bone cracks)

(crying): Oh, my God.

You killed her!

Chanel #6 is dead!

I realize that my killing Neckbrace might just seem like a bridge too far, but trust me when I say this had to happen.

And I'm confident that I'll be able to redeem myself morally in everyone's eyes.

(sighs) And furthermore, what I just did will become a new ghost story.

A cautionary tale about what happens to hog-faced bitches who try to steal hotter Kappas' boyfriends.

A story that'll be told around the campfire by Kappa pledges for centuries to come.

(Chanel chuckles)

(takes deep breath)

Okay... let's get her in that meat locker.