02x06 - Blood Drive

[bunniefuu]

Previously on Scream Queens...

Zayday: It's Chamberlain. I have my suspicions that he's the baby in the belly from 1985.

I'm gonna get to the bottom of it.

Chanel #5: I just don't understand why we even need any more Chanels.

We need cannon fodder.

We need new Chanels for the Green Meanie to att*ck so he doesn't m*rder us!

(all screaming)

This is a normal pint of blood.

This is a pint of blood I just tried to give a patient with hemolytic anemia.

As you can see, has a little mouse in it.

And this one... has a bunch of coins at the bottom.

Clearly, the only blood at this hospital is blood spilled by the Green Meanie that has been mopped up and put back into bags.

Sorry. That's on me.

I've just gotten really into recycling lately and instead of just dumping all these patients' blood into the swamp like everything else, I thought it'd be nice if that patient's blood could have a second life... pumping through the hearts and boners of all the neediest patients at this hospital.

The problem is clear.

This hospital is in desperate need of blood.

So, we're gonna have to get donations.

Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God! A blood drive, blood drive, blood drive, blood drive, blood drive!

What?

We should have a blood drive.

Okay, it'll be amazing. We'll get the fresh pints we need and I'll get to flex my phlebotomy muscles.

You know, I never thought I'd say this, but... that is an excellent idea, Chanel.

Oh.

Munsch: Really.

It'll be wonderful PR for the hospital.

And we can spin the murders in a very positive way.

Exactly.

"We've lost a lot of blood, so donate yours."

Hoffel: Hoffel was my first husband's name. Howard Hoffel. He d*ed. Cancer, I think. We weren't close. My maiden name might sound familiar. Bean. Agatha Bean was my sister. Agatha wasn't smart. I got the brains... and the looks. But she was still my only sister and those Chanels burnt her face off and got away with it... until now.

I've had my eye on the Chanels since they were released from the asylum. When I heard they had been hired at this hospital, I immediately pitched myself as administrator to Dean Munsch. But I'm not here to administrate anything... but revenge.

It won't be quick and painless, though. I'm playing the long game with the Chanels, the slow burn. For now, I'll spend my time making their lives miserable by calling the Green Meanie tip line and telling the cops that the Chanels are the K*llers.

I know what you're thinking. "Oh, she must be the Green Meanie then." No, I haven't k*lled anyone... yet. I just lucked out that a serial k*ller is targeting those little b*tches again. But unless you're a Baltimore police officer, you can't just k*ll people.

I needed a plan and this blood drive was going to be the perfect cover. Why k*ll them here where I risk being caught when I can use the blood drive to send them somewhere far away to die a miserable death without having to get my hands dirty.

(feedback screeches)

Ah, hello, everyone.

I'm here to announce that...

Chanel: Excuse me, Nurse Awful, why are we all standing out here for an announcement?

Haven't you heard of interoffice memos or group e-mails?

Chanel #5: Wait!

Are you announcing Employee of the Month?

Because, uh, I think that having a machete driven through half of my body (crowd murmuring) should be counted towards point totals.

I got to get back to surgery.

Let me know if I won later, huh?

Hmm...

Chanel #5: Okay, I think that anybody who isn't here for the announcement should not be eligible for the award, yes?

Shut up!

All of you, shut up.

This is a hospital, not a Jiffy Lube.

There is no employee of the month!

I am here to announce that Dean Munsch has approved my plan to create some incentive for the blood drive.

It is now a contest.

The employee that collects the most blood will receive an all-expense-paid trip to...

(drums hands)

...Blood Island!

(all screaming)

Hoffel: What I didn't tell them was that Blood Island is a remote, jungle island in the South China Sea that the Chinese and the Taiwanese have been fighting over for decades. Both insist that it belongs to the other one. It's full of giant, flesh-eating spiders, rancid water and an active volcano that spews burning ash day and night.

Yes!

Okay.

I am a trained phlebotomist.

There is no way I'm not winning this thing.

That's what I'm counting on, Chanel.

Maybe you can bring your two friends.

Screw that!

I am taking sexy Dr. Brock and he and I are gonna work on my daddy issues all week long.

Just a little prick.

The only little one in here, I can guarantee you that.

Can you please stop flirting with Dr. Brock as if he had sex with you for any reason other than the fact that he was sad about me and you were the closest semi-damp orifice.

Thank you for letting me be the one to draw your blood, Brocky.

You know every drop counts towards the competition and I really want to win so we can go on our romantic, all-expenses-paid vacation to Blood Island.

Now, have you done any research on this place?

Because it doesn't sound very romantic.

Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine.

I mean, clearly, you're a risk taker, Brock.

And millennials like Chanel here, they live in a post-AIDS world.

Most of them just assume they're gonna get HPV, herpes or the clap.

Excuse me, but I am perfectly clean.

Honestly, Brock, I think you're safer putting your penis in a land mine or a wood chipper, than having sex with Chanel. (breathes heavily)

Well, that-that maybe true, but at least he doesn't have to worry about me doing old person stuff during sex.

Yeah, like, uh, driving way too slow, or peeing when I sneeze or getting Alzheimer's, like some people I know.

Okay, look at you.

You filled that bag up fast.

Let's get another one going.

Wait, what?! I have to give more?

No, I'm... I am very woozy right now.

I think I need, like, um, a cookie.

You don't need a cookie.

You're type "O" negative, Number Five.

That is the universal donor.

It's the most valuable blood there is.

Blood type and Rhesus factor are inherited from our parents, which means your mom and dad would have to be "O" negative, as well.

We actually should get them to donate.

Wait a second.

That's it!

Orange juice! Cookies!

Yes, please, I would love...

We screen all the staff's blood.

Uh... (blows air)

I do not know what you're talking about.

Look, we know that the k*ller is someone at the hospital who is the baby in the belly in 1985, right?

And we know that you inherit your blood type from your parents.

That means if we somehow got a blood type from Jane Hollis and cross-referenced it with the blood samples we got from staff, we could figure out if there's a link.

Um, yeah, so, I'm... definitely not in a state where I can follow anything that you're saying.

I mean, it's not perfect.

We're not necessarily gonna find out who the k*ller is, but we could find out who the k*ller is not.

Like, if Jane's blood type was AB, she'd pass the A or the B or both to her child.

(laughs)

Eh, uh...

Thanks, Number Five.

I'm gonna get to work.

Wait, what?

No, you can't just walk away.

I'm too weak to move.

Are you okay?

(grunts)

Yeah.

Yeah, I'm fine, it's just... when I get stressed out... my hand starts acting up, trying to take control.

That's why I play games like this to show him that I'm in charge, not him.

If it was up to him, he'd be stabbing me all the time.

s*ab everyone, really.

(grunts)

(chuckles)

Well, you know what's weird?

These are the hands I was born with.

But when I'm around you, I feel like they have a life of their own.

♪ Looking from a window above ♪
♪ It's like a story of love ♪
♪ Can you hear me? ♪

Let's do it right here on this table right now.

I want to get our first time out of the way before we go to Blood Island.

That way I won't feel pressure to skip out on any spa treatments or avoid getting blind drunk at the pool bar.

Yeah, uh... one... quick...

What's wrong?

I know, at first, touching me feels like you know, you're making out with a 13-year-old boy, but I promise once I get my clothes off, I am super feminine.

No, your body's great, it's just...

I have a few concerns.

That's a list of STD tests I'd like you to get before we exchange any bodily fluids.

What? This is like... this is, like, nine pages long.

Yeah, there's 217.

It's every sexually transmitted disease known to modern medicine... thus far.

I promise I wouldn't make you go through all this if I didn't really like you.

I mean... this is a compliment.

I mean, if I didn't have feelings for you, I'd just strap on three condoms and wish for the best, but... with you, I'd like to try two.

And eventually... maybe in time, just one.

Oh! Really?

Mm-hmm.

Okay, I am gonna take the test, and when they all come back negative, I am gonna win the blood drive competition, and we can go on a romantic getaway to Blood Island and celebrate.

Hmm.

Oh!

♪ All I needed ♪
♪ For another day... ♪

(knocking)

Hey, Chanel, the police are here to interview you again.

Apparently, they got another anonymous tip you're the k*ller.

(woman speaking indistinctly over P.A. system)

Hey, Hoffel, you know, I feel awful that I didn't welcome you properly by having sex with you.

No, thanks.

I'm at this hospital for more serious reasons.

Oh, by the way...

I'd stay far away from any of those Chanels.

Getting too close to them could be hazardous to your health.

(thunder rumbling)

(thunder crashes)

(screams)

(gasps)

What are you doing standing over my bed with a Kn*fe watching me sleep?!

I'm bored sitting around this apartment all day!

Why don't you guys have any cable?

We're millennials... no one has cable.

That still doesn't answer my question about your standing over my bed with a Kn*fe!

I told you, I'm bored. When I get bored, I start to think of ways of how to m*rder people!

If you don't give me something useful to do with my time here, at least one person in this house is gonna die.

(thunder rolls)

Chanel: Oh, Dean Munsch?

Uh, I have a confession to make.

I had Hester move in with us to help us figure out who the k*ller is and keep us from getting k*lled.

(sighs) Well, that seems like a pretty dumb plan.

It wasn't clearly thought out.

Anyway, I have a couple of favors to ask you.

First, please don't turn us into the authorities like you promised. I mean, all that will do is make them ask questions about where Denise Hemphill is.

Well, since that benefits me, I agree.

Well, so does the second one.

If we don't give Hester something interesting to do, she is gonna m*rder someone.

Maybe even someone who actually matters, like me or you.

Okay, Hester has proven to have no problem with blood and guts, and she has way less empathy than any of us.

I mean, I think she'd make an excellent surgeon.

I cannot let Hester operate on patients!

What? You let the Chanels and I treat people and the only science class I took in college was "Great Works of Science Fiction."

There is another option.

Here's the deal, Hester.

I am going to allow you out of your cage only as long as you remain useful.

And I don't mean just helping us find the serial k*ller.

Because at the rate you are dribbling out information, the entire staff will be dead before he or she is caught.

I'm sure if you give me something cool to do, I'll tell you who it is by Thanksgiving.

I was hoping that I could volunteer at the morgue.

Listen.

We have too many patients and not enough people to figure out what's wrong with them.

So, I'm going to give you one.

We here at the C.U.R.E. Institute diagnose and cure the incurable.

So, if you can achieve both those goals, I will allow you to stay free another week.

Huh.

Right here.

(door closes)

Brandon Szathmary... this is one of my medical students.

Her name is...

Donna Summer.

Nice to meet you.

And I don't need to look at your chart to tell you that you suffer from an acute case of "douchy guy that thinks that dressing like a vampire is sexy." Well, let me cure you right now and tell you that it's not.

Because unless you're '90s Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, you just look like Corey Feldman.

I'm actually a vampire.

I have been my whole life. If I go out in the sun, my skin starts to blister and burn almost immediately.

My eyes can't handle bright light, and... look at my teeth.

What about garlic?

Can't stand it.

Mirrors?

That one seems to be an old wives' tale.

We can see our reflections.

And I'm obsessed with blood.

I can't get enough of it.

I drink it like iced tea.

I don't hurt anyone, though.

I have an in with the guy at the Red Cross.

Speaking of blood, are you okay, Dr. Dean Munsch?

You look pale.

Are you anemic? Because that's a major turn-off for me.

He's right.

Maybe I should run some tests on you.

(scoffs) No, I'm fine!

Honestly, just... oh, no, I...

You know what? I didn't sleep last night.

So, I, I'm gonna leave you two... here, you and, um...

Donna.

Okay.

And no murdering anyone.

♪ ♪

(Chanel sighs)

I... I've given nine pints of blood in the last two days, and I don't think that I can give anymore.

If you don't want to be part of the solution to the catastrophic blood shortage at this hospital, Number Five, why don't you, I don't know, figure out a way to remove your ass, that's probably grown roots into that chair, and leave!

I can't.

Then sit there and celebrate the fact that with each pint of blood, you're getting me one step closer to an all-expense-paid vacation to Blood Island so I can bone down with Dr. Hot.

Can I just have one bite of your sandwich, please?

No.

Attagirl, Marfan.

Chanel #8: I don't understand.

Why is this blood drive suddenly so important?

Chanel #10: Um, blood drives are super important.

When I had the first ten feet of my extra intestines removed, they severed my mesenteric artery and without a transfusion, I almost d*ed.

No, I mean there's a serial k*ller on the loose at this hospital, targeting nurses and patients.

Okay, you guys have clearly never been hunted by a serial k*ller before.

Number Three is right.

Once you've been targeted by your first serial k*ller, you sort of just realize that... walking around being constantly terrified isn't gonna help anything at all.

Just give you worry lines and make the k*ller want to k*ll you even more.

Chanel: All right, Number Nine, let's get you started.

Is there a particularly juicy vein you like getting jabbed in?

Crook of the arm? Behind the hand?

Failing that, we can always do between the toes.

No, I can't. I'm terrified of needles.

What?! That's insane, Number Nine.

You're a goth.

Needles should be right up your alley.

No! I won't! No!

What?

I won't do it!

(door slams)

(huffs)

(groans)

Okay... looks like we'll just have to drain some more blood from Number Five.

(sobbing): No! No! Please...

(creaking nearby)

Chanel: I still don't understand what we're doing here.

I mean, I would like to get back to draining that blood cow, Number Five, and increasing my lead in the contest, which currently stands at three pints.

Munsch: Um, Chanel, I'm afraid I have some urgent news that I wanted Dr. Brock to be here to hear as well.

Unfortunately, Chanel... you have tested positive for STD's.

What?! What?!

Which ones?

All of them.

Yes, you've tested positive for syphilis, chlamydia, gonorrhea, hepatitis...

A, B and C.

...uh, genital warts, HPV, vaginosis, pelvic inflammatory disease, herpes...

The bad kind, not the cold sore kind.

No.

Also the cold sore kind.

Vaginal yeast, male genital yeast, chancroid, trichomoniasis, (whispers): and good old-fashioned crabs.

That's not a disease per Se, but there was a crab just floating in the sample.

Okay. I-I don't understand how this is possible.

I've occasionally used condoms.

I mean, this-this can't be happening.

Unfortunately, you're of a generation who's obsessed with instant gratification, who simply do not take the long-term risks of venereal disease seriously.

I'm afraid your blood is gonna have to be removed from the tally.

Oh, and I... I guess that puts me in the lead?

But Blood Island!

Uh, I don't think it's fair to penalize Chanel for this.

Blood Island.

Well, I do.

(Chanel yells, gasps)

("Carmina Burana" playing)

♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪

(echoing sob)

Oh, wait. Let me help you with that.

I was just in the neighborhood going door to door asking people to participate in our blood drive down at the hospital.

Please leave me alone.

Well, you don't even have to come in, okay?

I'd be more than happy to come collect the sample right here at home... it'll be like Domino's.

(chuckles): But blood instead of pizza.

Domino's delivers pizza to your house.

You would be coming to take blood from my body.

It's nothing like Domino's.

Um... well... how about you just come in, then?

I'll drive you.

That hospital is evil.

And if it were up to me, it would be burnt to the ground.

(door creaks open, slams shut)

(thump)

(grunts)

Good news.

I think I've diagnosed your disease. Okay.

It's called non-acute porphyria, or cutaneous porphyria.

It's caused by a chemical substance called porphyrins that accumulate in your system because of the deficiency of the enzymes that transform the porphyrins in your blood.

Is it curable?

No. Sorry.

However, cutaneous porphyria does cause extreme photosensitivity, which would explain why you get blisters when you stand in direct sunlight.

It also causes receding gums, which would explain your apparent fangs, and an odd aversion to the smell of garlic.

So I'm cursed forever, just like Count Dracula.

No, you're not. Because one thing that your incurable disease does not cause is the need to drink blood.

That's just because you're crazy, which I can cure you of.

When I was little, I was obsessed with Ring-Dings.

You know those little snack cakes with the cream filling and the dark chocolate on the outside?

I couldn't get enough.

But my aunt who raised me thought they were unhealthy, so she told me I couldn't have them anymore.

That didn't work... I just ate them in secret.

Until she caught me, and she realized the only way to get me to stop eating them would be to make me hate them.

So she sat me down and she made me eat them for days and weeks until just the thought of a Ring-Ding made me want to puke.

It's called aversion therapy.

We are gonna make you drink blood all day and night until you hate it... even more than a normal person would.

Now, drink up.

Doctor's orders.

Mmm.

That's fresh.

But I don't think that's going to be enough to do the job.

Hi.

Excuse me. Um, do you test all of your blood for diseases like goat herpes and stuff before sending it off to the hospital?

Of course. We hold it until we get the results.

And we always inform the donor if anything comes up.

Terrific. I would love to donate a big old bag.

Great.

(screams)

(gasps)

(exhales)

♪ ♪

(gasps)

Blood thief!

What is he eating?

(panting)

Blood pie with a graham cr*cker blood crust, blood sausage, blood soup... dairy- and gluten-free, of course.

I heard screaming! Not another dead body.

No. A-Arrest this woman!

She is stealing blood and affecting the outcome of an officially sanctioned blood drive competition.

I am curing Mr. Szathmary, breaking him of his blood addiction by forcing him to eat and drink so much that it makes him sick.

I call it the "Blurred Lines Cure."

You know, like when you heard that song for the first time and you were like, "I could listen to this song over and over again and never get sick of it," and then months later you're like, "I'd rather marry Robin Thicke than ever have to listen to this awful song ever again."

Yeah. (sighs)

What's done is done.

You're just gonna have to find another way to collect more blood, Chanel.

You are gonna pay for this.

(Chanel grunts)

Um... This has to stop now. (gasps)

I'm so close to curing him. Just a few more pints.

Brandon: I don't even think I would eat a medium rare steak at this point.

Find another way. (groans)

And find it by tomorrow, or you end up back in the cage.

Chamberlain: What's going on with you?

Nothing's going on with me.

What are you talking about?

Lately, every time you see me you get all nervous and run off.

Two weeks ago, we was getting our gumshoe on, okay?

I was really enjoying that.

Look, I'm sorry. I just can't talk about it.

You really think I'm the baby in the belly, don't you?

What?

How do you know about that?

Look.

I'm here 40 hours a week, you know?

I heard people whispering about it.

There was a pregnant lady named Jane Hollis whose husband d*ed at this hospital 30 years ago, and you think the baby's the Green Meanie.

I'm really busy. I got to go.

I heard you tried to get a blood sample, too... is that right?

That's some really good gumshoeing, Miss Williams.

See, if you knew her blood type and the blood type of her husband, you can cross-reference the blood of the whole entire staff, see if you get a match.

How'd you figure all that out?

Because I was thinking the same thing!

This is what I'm trying to tell you.

We could figure this out if we work as a team.

Her husband's blood type is O positive, by the way.

I checked the hospital records.

L-Look, here, take a sample of my blood, okay?

And test it.

It'll prove I'm not the k*ller.

It would... if I knew Jane Hollis's blood type.

But I don't see anybody getting a sample from her anytime soon.

(elevator bell dings, door opens)

In the meantime, I'm sorry.

I just don't know if I can trust you.

Chanel #5: Extra massage, please. And you can go to town on the pumice... I mean...

(sighs): my callouses are thick like stones.

Ew. I'm not giving you a pedicure, cow.

I'm looking for a vein... all the ones on your arms are all poked out and covered in scar tissue.

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

I can't give any more blood.

According to my records, you've only given 15 pints in the last three days, and the human heart pumps over a million barrels of blood in a person's lifetime, so, really, you've only given a fraction of what you can.

Yeah. A fraction of what I can give in a lifetime.

The human body only carries ten pints!

Yes, but people living at high altitudes tend to have at least two more pints of blood than people living at sea level.

We don't live in a high altitude.

Duh. This apartment's on the third floor, dummy.

Look, Number Five is right.

Okay? She's as dry as Great- Grandma Chanel's cooch.

I mean, all hope is lost.

Okay, that's it, Number Nine.

I am pulling rank and initiating Kappa Kappa Tau bylaw 782, which states very clearly that when a Kappa sister needs a pledge to perform a service that will assist said sister in winning a competition or contest of any kind, said pledge has no choice but to oblige.

Okay, first of all, we're not in a sorority, and I'm not a pledge.

I came here to learn to be a doctor.

And second, that's really... conveniently specific.

Fine. I made it up.

But let's get real.

I mean, the only way you're gonna have any romantic satisfaction in your life is if you live vicariously through a really pretty girl like me.

I mean, think of all the cool Snapchat stories of mine you can follow along to while I'm off on Blood Island with Dr. Brock.

And how much you'll have.

It'll be a dream come true.

But I can't give that to you if you're gonna keep being so selfish... you have to give something to me.

Namely, like, three pints of your blood.

I told you, I hate needles.

I am the best phlebotomist in town.

If you're ever gonna get over your fear of needles and fully commit to your lame, Goth lifestyle, letting me gently stick one in you's gonna be your best chance.

(sighs)

I don't understand why you have to strap me down in here.

Someone who's as freaked out by needles as you are is probably gonna flinch like crazy when I try to put it in.

The more you move, the more it hurts, so this is for your safety. And we're doing it in here because it's the only place with strong enough straps.

You see how small?

I am gonna count to three.

One...

(yells)

(sobbing)

Done.

Wait.

What? That was it?

Uh, I didn't feel that at all.

I told you, I am the best.

Oh, my God. Thank you, Chanel.

This is the best day of my life. (exhales)

Hey, wait.

Don't you need to measure how much you take?

Chanel: Dr. Holt.

Chanel, what are you doing here? It's late.

Everyone's gone home. I just want you to know that I know for a fact that those STD tests were manipulated in some way.

I mean, there's no way I have sexual Ebola or vaginal Zika.

I doubt if those things are even real.

I'm a doctor. Tests don't lie.

Well, they do if someone named Dr. Dean Jealous Gray Pubes manipulated my blood sample.

Please. All I want is to go to Blood Island with you and rock your sexual world.

I mean, I know you've been with hundreds of girls...

Thousands.

Whatever.

I'm fine with you wearing a condom.

No, no. I...

Look, until you prove to me that you're completely healthy, I just can't let you get up in all this.

I can't.

Oh...

No! Why?

Why, God, do bad things always happen to me?

I mean...

(hoarsely): I am such a good person.

(clacking, squeaking)

Chanel, is that you?

No!

Help! Help!

(screams)

(muffled screaming, gasping)

(muffled gasping)

(screaming)

(muffled screams continue)

(muffled screaming, sobbing)

Hello, handsome.

Oh, don't worry.

I-I'm not here to stop you.

(muffled grunt)

I'm on the same team.

How about you take off that mask so we can have a real talk?

(whimpering) Oh, don't worry about her.

She'll be dead before she can tell anyone who you are.

(muffled sobbing)

Wow, you have a problem.

Zayday's getting close, yes?

I was gonna k*ll her next, but... she kind of scares me.

Let's make a deal.

You just keep on being the muscle in this operation, and you let me be the brains.

I think I'm doing just fine in that department.

Please. Who the hell thinks the best way to shut down the hospital's by k*lling all the patients?

How about k*lling the nurses or the doctors or the damn woman running the place?

I-I've tried, but they're all so hard to k*ll.

(whimpering)

So what's in it for you?

The Chanels.

You don't touch them.

They're all mine.

(muffled grunting)

I can work with that.

Would you mind if I... helped you out on this one?

Just for fun?

(muffled yelling)

By all means.

(muffled grunting)

So you're the other Green Meanie that's been k*lling people around here?

I haven't k*lled anyone here yet.

What are you talking about?

Well, I didn't k*ll all the victims.

There's someone else running around here k*lling people, too.

Hmm. Shall we?

Ladies first.

(screaming)

(continues screaming)

Hester: What to do, what to do. I need blood. And these patients would be so easy to m*rder.

No.

Hester, you promised no k*lling.

But where can I get the blood I need to treat Vampire Guy so Dean Munsch doesn't lock me up again?

Oh, hey. You're... you're Hester, right?

The girl who m*rder*d a bunch of folks and was locked in a cage downstairs but then they let you out for some reason and now you sort of work here?

That's right.

Okay.

Uh, hey, wh-what are you doing with those pints of blood?

Oh, these?

These are headed to the biohazard Dumpster.

You mean the swamp.

Yeah, the swamp. They're the pints of blood that Chanel donated, but evidently they're crawling with every type of STD, so nobody can use them.

Nice meeting you.

(sighs) All right, stupid, tiny, Goth bitch, let's see if you've put me over the top.

(screaming)

Hey! What happened?

Wha...?

Oh, my God.

This poor gir... Wait, who is she again?

Chanel #9 or 10 or 11, I don't know... at a certain point you just lose count.

Well, why'd you hook her up to all these... blood bags?

This is weird.

Me? I didn't do this!

I heard screaming!

Damn it!

(exhales) You know, at some point, this swamp is gonna be, like, 90% dead bodies.

Wait a second.

Chanel #9 was my patient, right?

Well, it looks like she gave about two dozen bags of blood, which means I am back in the lead, which means we are going on our romantic, luxurious, all-expense-paid vacation to Blood Island!

No. A... you're going to Blood Island alone, because I'm still creeped out about those STD's; and two... aren't you a little upset that your friend just got m*rder*d?

Meh.

Munsch: It was Hester.

Hester did this.

She needed blood for Vampire Guy, and she's a serial k*ller. Come on, let's go look for her.

Come on. (groans)

She's a what?

Just one more spoonful.

You know you want it.

Open up the tunnel for the blood train.

No, I-I never want any blood again, not even a bloody Mary.

I'm cured! I'm cured!

Munsch: Hester!

Where did you get that blood? And before you answer, please remember we have a patient present, so if your answer is by k*lling someone and draining all the blood from their body, please, say it in code.

Wait, what?

I'm offended by that accusation.

Though to be fair, it is warranted.

That being said, I didn't k*ll anyone in the service of getting this blood.

I got it from Chamberlain.

He was just gonna dump it in the swamp.

You fed him Chanel's blood?

Geez, you should have just fed him cyanide.

Brandon: I-Is there something wrong with that blood? I-I drank, like, three vials of it.

(groans) No, nothing wrong per Se, unless you consider having every diagnosable STD in it "wrong"?

Oh! At the moment I have been cured of my need to drink blood and pretend to be a douchy vampire, I'm cursed with being a sexual pariah.

Honey, you are a pale weirdo with receding gums who can't eat at an ethnic restaurant!

You're a pariah with or without an STD!

Fortunately, you don't have one.

I checked the blood before I gave it to him. It's clean.

Free of any and all STD's. (relieved sigh)

What?

(pants)

I'm shocked.

Uh... uh... Oh, I knew you were behind this!

Oh, I am gonna get you.

When you least expect it, I am going to get you.

Hoffel: Chanel? I've been looking all over for you.

Congratulations.

The extra blood you submitted by totally exsanguinating Chanel #9 has officially taken you past the arbitrary yet official finish line.

You win the blood drive.

I'm going to Blood Island?

Hoffel: You bet your tiny ass you are!

♪ ♪

And these two are for the other Chanels.

Oh. Thank you. I'm gonna need one more, because now that I am officially STD-free, I think a certain someone is gonna want to come with me... and yes, I do mean that as a euphemism.

And here are your plane tickets.

"Business select"?

(chuckles) I only fly charter.

Ooh!

I... can't afford... a charter jet.

Well, that's okay.

I'll just take the cash-equivalency option and go on my own trip.

What? I can't afford that.

I've already maxed out all my credit cards just to be able to afford this trip.

You have to go to Blood Island!

Oh, you have to honor the terms of the contest that you came up with, or you will be hearing from my lawyer.

O positive, O positive, AB negative.

What are you talking about?

I checked the hospital records.

Bill Hollis' blood type is O positive, so is Jane Hollis'.

What? How'd you find that out?

Jackpot.

Hot pies!

Come and get your hot, delicious pies! Ooh!

Ma'am, can I tempt you with a free, delicious hot pie?

Oh.

Why not? (chuckles)

Just, what kind of pie is this?

Worm pie.

It's worm. Yep. Ew.

You know, you can get a blood type from a saliva sample using an indirect enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay using monoclonal antibodies?

Whoa.

Oh, yeah, and my blood type is AB negative, so there's no way I could be the baby in the belly.

Thank the Lord!

I'm so relieved!

I knew it couldn't be you.

I'm so sorry I ever doubted you.

Oh, wait a minute.

You know what that means, don't you?

The baby in the belly has to be O positive.

♪ ♪

Brock: I don't understand.

You're the only man on staff with type O positive blood.

Really? (chuckles)

Yes.

Which is the same type as a man named Bill Hollis, who most likely was m*rder*d here 30 years ago, as well as his wife, Jane Hollis, who was with child at the time.

That child would also have type O positive blood, as well as a motive to m*rder everyone here at the hospital.

So... you're suggesting that I was that baby they were pregnant with?

(laughs) Well, I'm just, like, very flattered that you all think I look 30, but... you do realize this is insane, right?

Yeah. Well, you do bone down like a 30-year-old.

Chamberlain: I mean, you be, like, the most handsomest 50-year-old ever.

You're, like, suspiciously handsome, dude.

Exactly.

Maybe you spent every summer for 30 years at the pool.

Maybe as a teenager, you were a lifeguard and suffered severe sun damage.

All right.

I-I get it, I am ridiculously handsome and I do have an air of youthfulness about me, but...

O positive is the most common blood type there is.

40% of the people on this Earth have it.

I mean, it's weird that I'm the only one in the hospital that has it.

And yet this is where we find ourselves.

The proof is in the pudding.

Or as I should say, the proof is in the blood pudding.

No. Actually, I shouldn't.

And I apologize for going for the pun.

The minute it left my mouth, I felt dirty.

Dr. Holt... science doesn't lie, and as far as I'm concerned, at this point (wood creaking) you are the prime suspect.

(Brock yells)

This is an outrage, and completely illogical.

You morons don't deserve to live.

(panting): You want to accuse me of m*rder, you go right ahead.

But there will be consequences.

You startled me.

Ooh. For me?

(gasps)

You shouldn't have.

Won't this get a little confusing?

You say there are already two Green Meanies, so now there's three?

Mm-hmm.

Works for me.

Green is my color.

(chuckles softly)

♪ ♪