Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Journal entry 17: I think I just wet my pants.
Maybe we should go back downstairs now.
...I'm sure you reminded her you've only been here...
...he grabbed her, and then....
And, Margaret...
I'll get the doctor.
...the Chumash warriors hacked off the heads of the Franciscan monks...
Fine, Jake. Scoff.
Mr. Viola, I don't give a damn.
And in her mind, whatever she experienced...
I didn't.
I'm sure it has nothing to do with the thunderstorm.
Where are you going?
h
Sir, are you all right?
The song that was playing the night she died.
-...there's anything wrong with Ludwig. -I don't understand.
Listen, Agnes, I owe you one.
Would you mind telling me what this is about?
I'll help you upstairs.
I knew she had been upset about Emily...
-But would I listen? No. -Agnes, listen--
Do you see me doing harm to myself?
I am a trained professional.
Thank you, I used to think so too.
Miss DiPesto. Mister....
But reality is subjective.
-The ghost? -Ghost.
We're not taking-- What did you say?
Lovely.
-It was? -She sang it to sister.
Are you doing what I think?
...and hidden corridors throughout the house.
Well, no. Almost everybody died.
Let there be light.
Close the doors behind you.
As soon as I push the plunger.
I know it's a lot, but there's no rush.
...we started to experience strange occurrences...
...finally burying their bones where this house now stands."
How do you do? I'm Margaret Renborn.
Two and a half.
Return address, Happy Valley Psychiatric Hospital.
You mean tonight?
Can you hold, please?
Herbert?
You don't even have a nameplate.
-This house is all I'm after. ~The house?
-Well, you gotta start somewhere. -We're getting off the subject.
Shelves of volumes on local history.
He's asleep and he's had a hard night.
I just don't wanna see you get in over your head.
About which I'm about to call the police...