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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Powerful stuff, mistletoe, bursting with lectins and viscotoxins.
I said I'll find you time, sir. Now, get inside.
Now, stop this talk. There can't be an actual wolf.
Not remotely amused.
Well, they were bald, athletic.
Guard it with your life.
And you, Sir Robert. You're a traitor to the Crown.
- But it's perfect. -My late husband never thought so.
They said if we scream or shout, then he will slaughter us.
Would you like my wife while you're at it?
A werewolf?
1979! Hell of a year!
Your companion begs an apology, Doctor. Her clothing has somewhat delayed her.
It was a splinter of wood when the door came apart. It's nothing.
He'll shelter us for tonight, then we can reach Balmoral tomorrow.
I've got no time to start old arguments.
I wonder.
it would be an abuse of my privilege as a traveller in time.
- Let me see. -It is nothing.
I have my credentials, if I may?
Besides, we're all waiting on Sir Robert. Come, sir.
And that's the charm of a ghost story, isn't it?
The Queen, the crown, the throne, you name it.
- Werewolf. -I know!
- Not on me, no. -There we are, then. We run.
One, two, three, pull!
We'd better get moving. It's almost nightfall.