I'm Sheriff Donna Hanscum.
My husband, Doug, left me last year,
'cause he said I loved cookie-dough milkshakes more than him.
You deserve better.
- Donna. - Doug.
Well, aren't you looking good, huh?
I lost six pounds.
Hey! You're a quarter of the way there.
Doug seems like kind of a dick.
You ever think there are things out there,
things that don't end up on the police blotter?
What I think I saw were teeth. You think I'm crazy?
Not at all.
- She just pulled out a machete... - Sheriff Cuse is a vampire.
Donna saw his teeth.
What the cuss? A vampire?
They can't hurt you. They can't hurt you.
“If it bleeds, you can kill it."
This isn't about your clown thing, is it?
What? No.
What in the world did they do to you?
I think I've been having visions.
I mean, it's just images. I mean, more of a feeling, really.
I mean, maybe these visions are coming from God.
Whoa.
I mean, Dean, the first one happened after I prayed.
You prayed? When was this?
Back in the hospital.
What did you pray about?
I guess I was just looking for answers, you know?
When was the last time God answered any one of our prayers?
This is their second drive in overtime,
with both teams having possessed the ball.
The next score wins...
Ah!
Stan! Can you take out the trash?
It stinks to high heaven!
It's your cooking that stinks.
What was that, honey?
Nothing, dear.
Game's in OT. Can't it wait?
Ah...
Hey, hon? Bring me another brewski.
Hey, thanks, babe.
Don't need any possum traps, huh?
So, uh, on the off chance that you're actually listening, uh,
I gotta be real honest.
The visions aren't making a whole lot of sense to me.
Truth is,
I don't know what's what.
Please...
What are you trying to say?
Really? I mean, really?
- Ever hear of privacy? - Hey, you want privacy, close your door.
I thought we talked about this?
Yeah, we did, Dean. But why is it so hard to believe
that God could be sending me visions about The Darkness?
Are you kidding me?
He didn't feel the need to show up for the Apocalypse.
Why would he give a crap now?
I don't know, maybe because she's his sister.
What do you wanna do? Sit back, ignore him, do nothing?
No, that's not what I'm sayin'.
I'm saying don't count on God. Okay. Count on us.
Right.
Well, this is everything Cass dug up in Gaza.
Every last bit of pre-biblical lore.
Half of it, I couldn't read. It's in Aramaic.
And the other half...
Not a single mention of The Darkness, so...
- Well, I'll be damned. - Huh.
Donna. What's shakin'?
Fat Sucker Donna?
What do you mean, "killer bunny?"
Sheriff. Hey.
You two are a sight for sore eyes!
You working all 10,000 lakes now? This isn't usually your beat.
Just Larsen County.
What with the cutbacks and all...
For the most part, been tater tots and lemon drops except for this doozy.
I mean, when you get a call about a killer Easter Bunny,
you don't know what to think.
Well, you think crazy.
Guy's real strong, too. Lashed out at several officers.
Took a whole team just to get him into custody.
But that's not the weirdest part.
Bunny head won't come off.
What do you mean?
Tried everything short of a chainsaw.
But it's really stuck.
Who knows? Could be nothing.
Guy could just have a big melon like my Uncle Wally.
But ever since I've seen what goes bump in the night,
I'm not taking any chances.
Hey, you did the right thing. For sure.
Maybe. I'm just still not 100% sure this is our kind of a case.
But if you got a wild hare...
See what I did there?
It's good to see you two.
Who you got there, Sheriff?
Gentlemen, this is Officer Stover. He's lead on the case.
Agents Elliott and Savage.
Nice to meet you. And please, call me "Doug."
These two fine fellas will be helping outwith the old hippity hop...
Oh. We're gonna need it.
And not that Sheriff Hanscum isn't doing a bang-up job.
We're lucky to have her.
Well, I better get back to it.
Uh-huh.
What?
Hey, it's none of our business,
but looks like somebody might have a crush.
I was born at night, Dean. Not last night.
Then what's the deal? He seems nice.
He is. But he's a cop...
Named Doug.
I mean, clearly, I have a type, but no thank you, ma'am.
Won't be once bitten, twice Doug'd.
All right, where's the wascally wabbit?
Any witnesses?
Yeah, vic's wife, Fran Hinkle.
Poor thing thought she was next,
but the bunny just up and walked out the door.
- You ID him yet? - Nope.
No wallet, no cell, ran his prints, but no prior record.
Couldn't even get our hands on him long enough
to check for any identifying marks.
Only thing we do know is he's Caucasian, roughly 18 to 25.
And terrifying.
Clive's on the line. Said it's an emergency.
Just shoot a hoot if you need me.
- You need anything? Crullers? - Not right now.
What's up, Doc?
Be easier all around if you just talk to us.
- Careful. - Yeah.
So, what happened, pal? Hmm?
What, you drop too much Molly?
Super-glue your mask to your head, get paranoid, stab a guy?
I've been there.
Let me guess, Rog.
You were framed.
What?
Dean!
I got it. I got it.
Not a demon.
He is strong.
- All right. - Whoo.
"Kylie forever." That'll work.
Better be her. Last Kylie on the list.
Excuse me. Kylie Jennings?
Yes?
You know this rabbit?
- You found him? - Who is he?
Mike Hooks. He's my boyfriend.
Okay. Well, do you have any idea why your boyfriend would stab somebody?
Wait, what?
How would Mike know Stan Hinkle?
Who?
The victim.
Okay, hold on. This makes no sense.
Why would Mike stab a complete stranger? I mean...
- Oh, God. - What.
I don't know, I thought it was nothing, but he was acting really weird yesterday.
Weird, how?
Well, after class, we went to this thrift shop.
We needed to buy costumes for a party off campus
and Mike found this super creepy bunny mask.
I mean, it grossed me out,
which he just loved, but as soon as he put it on...
That's when the weird started?
Yeah. He just stared at me.
At first, I thought that he was just messing around,
but then he walked out without paying.
He left his cell at the register, so I had no way of reaching him and...
Look, Mike's, like, the sweetest, okay?
But I'm telling you, as soon as he put that mask on,
it's like he was a completely different person.
Oh, God.
Really think the hospital can get this puppy off?
Two words, bone saw.
What?
Lady cops can't handle the heavy lifting?
I didn't mean that...
I just figured... We shot him full of tranquilizers.
Dead weight. I didn't want you to hurt yourself.
Hurt myself? I do CrossFit.
Just gotta engage the core and lift with the knees.
Watch and learn.
A little help would be nice.
Okay. Yeah.
Yeah. Hold up.
Those FBI boys.
Hiya, Dean.
Whoa.
You Okay?
No, not really.
A 19-year-old kid is dead.
That's not on you. Or Doug.
He was just doing his job.
I know, but that kid was innocent.
I mean, if the mask was cursed, then he was just a puppet, right?
He was a victim, too.
No one else dies.
Not like this.
Come on. That's good. Now, one more.
Good.
Nice job, Buckner. All your hard work's gonna pay off.
- You think so, Coach? - I know so.
Any scout would be a damn fool not to snatch you up.
Just lay off the HGH.
You might have to pee in a cup.
I'll be next door, if you need another spot.
Need another spot?
Good news, Coach is still alive.
Bad news, he's in a coma. So, we're not out of the woods yet.
Two masked psychos in two days?
I mean, what are the chances?
My guess? Copycat killer.
Damn social media.
Oh. Okay.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Did you guys talk to the kid yet?
Be my guest.
Hi.
Agents Elliott and Savage.
Brock Buckner.
Well, um, Brock. What did you see?
Not much, man.
I mean, I was just hammering my bis, getting all swole,
and next thing I know, Coach Evans is gettin' his ass kicked by the mascot.
And who is the mascot?
Why would I know? I'm the quarterback.
Besides, his mask wouldn't come off.
Couldn't believe how strong he was, either.
I mean, for a scrawny dude, he's as strong as me.
And I hold the state bench record.
Oh, yeah? What do you bench?
Four plates.
On each side.
That's...
Okay. So, other than the mask not coming off
and the Jester hulking out, did you notice anything else unusual?
What do you mean?
Power surges? Temperature fluctuations?
The weight room did get really cold.
Thanks.
Hmm.
Well. Ain't a cursed object.
Ghost possession.
Oh, for geez! Ghosts can possess people?
Yeah, so, Ghosts 101.
Somebody's spirit can attach itself to an object,
or a bunch of objects left behind.
In this case, masks.
- Right. So whoever possesses the object... - Gets possessed.
But if we can't get the masks off, how the heck do you unpossess someone?
Everything has a weakness. Even ghosts.
They hate iron and salt.
So, all we gotta do is spook the spook with a little salt,
and maybe we could pry it off.
My diet secret.
One bite of dessert and then I dump salt on it.
Kills the craving.
And that works?
You betcha. On everything except salted caramel.
Well, that's cute.
But I was thinking something a little bit of more like this.
You said no one else was dying.
Salt pellets.
What's going on?
Poor thing doesn't deserve to be locked up.
So, let her go.
No one saw her face, right?
Yeah, he was a drifter, overpowered you, escaped.
Well, there's some female empowerment for ya.
Don't worry, hon. Just gonna ask you a few questions,
then you're free to go.
I am?
Scout's honor.
You remember attacking Coach Evans?
No, I swear. I went to pick up the new mascot costume.
Went to try it on and the next thing I know,
I'm in jail.
Did you even know him?
He was my PE coach last semester.
I mean, he was kind of a hardass, but...
That doesn't mean that I wanted him dead.
Michelle, where did you get the costume? Was it a thrift store?
No. Someone donated it to the school.
Do you know who?
- Rita Johnson? - Yeah. Who's asking?
Got a few questions we wanna ask you about a case in town.
Who is it, Mom?
Um, Max, why don't you go back and finish your homework.
Why are the police here?
Hey there, fella. You ever see a real cop car?
I mean, if it's okay with your mom.
Yeah.
- You can talk in the police radio. - Really?
- It's pretty simple figure out. - Cool.
Mind if we come inside?
Yeah.
The costumes belonged to my brother, Chester.
He was a kids' party performer before he passed.
Oh.
And how did Chester die?
Uh, my brother suffered from depression.
He took his own life a couple months back. Jumped off a bridge.
Sorry to hear that.
Max begged me to keep the costumes. He loved them.
He loved his uncle. I mean, he lived with us.
So, they were really close.
But they made me sad.
So, I donated them to the local high school,
the theater company.
Thrift shop?
Yeah. Places like that.
Can I ask where Chester's buried?
He's not. He was cremated.
Would you mind making a list of his costumes?
As many as you can remember?
Sure. But what does this have to do with your case?
That's what we're trying to figure out.
One more question.
Did Chester have a falling out with Stan Hinkle or Phil Evans?
Um, or anyone for that matter?
What do you mean?
Did he, urn, did he have any unfinished business with anyone?
No. Not that I can think of. I mean, I don't even...
I don't think Chester even knew those guys.
I remember Chester's suicide. Real sad.
So, now that we know he's the ghost, how do we stop him?
Well, usually, you gotta burn their bones. But he was cremated.
So, we're up poop's creek without a paddle?
Not exactly.
I mean, it looks like he's tied to the costumes,
which means the only way to stop him is to burn them.
Then we're already ahead of the game.
I had Doug go to the high school and collect the costumes.
Great.
Here is the list of the rest.
Think you and Doug can round 'em up?
Yeah. You betcha.
All right, we just gotta figure out what Chester's beef was with the vics.
Ghosts come back for something personal. Usually it's revenge.
All right. Drop me off at the hospital. I'll check on the coach.
I'll see if I can find Stan's widow. Let's go.
Who the hell are you?
You get a story out of Bozo?
Yeah, name's Steve Buress.
Sixty years old. Retired GP. Apparently, he was playing dress up
with his grandson, and the next thing he knew...
Doesn't even know how he got to the hospital.
He escape, too?
Yeah.
I'm so losing my job.
I was on my way to Woodbury to pick up a Woodpecker costume.
And I got the call about the coach.
Yeah. This time...
Killer Clown.
Already put out an APB.
What the heck is going on in this doggone town?
Told you. Copycat killers.
So, this is a copycat of a copycat?
Come on, Doug. It's not that hard to wrap your noggin around, is it?
Whatever you say, Sheriff.
I'm gonna go get the Woodpecker.
What's the deal? Why don't you cut the guy a break?
I mean, I wouldn't be buying what you're sellin', either.
I don't have time for insubordination.
Or is it maybe that you're treating New Doug like Old Doug
and not even giving him a chance?
You know what I think?
You need to mind your own beeswax. We have a case to solve.
Phil and Stan were college roommates.
Knew each other since they were 18.
They were like brothers.
In all those years of friendship,
did your husband or the coach ever know a guy by the name of Chester Johnson?
He was a children's performer.
Yeah, they knew...
Ugh. I can't even say his name.
He makes me sick.
I know you shouldn't speak ill of the dead,
but I have nothing nice to say about that man.
Killer clown? You're serious.
No, Dean, I'm joking.
Because clowns are really funny to me.
- Did you take care of it? - Yeah.
What about you? Anything?
Yeah, turns out Stan and the coach were besties from way back
who accused Chester of crossing the line with their kids.
Oh, well...
Yeah. But they didn't wanna go to the cops
'cause they didn't wanna embarrass their kids.
So, they decided to track down Chester themselves.
They went to his house and got Rita instead.
So, she lied?
- Chester did know the vics. - Apparently.
So, Fran said that Rita told them to screw off and...
Well, before they had a chance to confront him, he killed himself.
So, suicide led to a vengeful spirit.
I mean, It's not like we haven't seen it before.
Or maybe it wasn't suicide.
Hey, Max, right? ls, is your mom home?
Not yet.
Okay, uh, I just needed to ask her a few more questions.
Um...
I guess you can wait inside.
Okay.
Hey. Poker? I can show you a move or two.
Magic trick. Something my uncle taught me.
Ah. Yeah, you were pretty close to him, huh?
Yeah.
He was cool. I miss him.
He sounds like a good guy.
He was.
What those men said about him, it wasn't true.
I don't appreciate you talking to my son when I'm not home!
Okay, we were just trading some card tricks, that's all.
What are you even doing here? I told you everything I know.
Okay, honey, go to your room.
Look, we know that the coach and Stan confronted you about Chester.
That is none of your damn business. It has nothing to do with any of this.
Those men were murdered.
And whether or not you believe it, your brother is connected.
How? Chester is dead. Killed himself.
- You sure about that? - Oh...
Look, we need to know the truth. People's lives are at stake here.
Yeah.
Maybe yours. Maybe Max's.
Okay. Okay.
A couple months ago, Stan and the coach came by.
They said that Chester was with their kids,
did something...
Inappropriate.
I got defensive. I mean...
Chester was sweet. Like a dad to Max. So, I told 'em to get lost.
If they had a problem with Chester, they could go to the cops.
But they didn't?
They didn't have any evidence.
But then I started to have my doubts.
I mean, as much as I wanted to defend my brother...
What they said really
got under my skin.
Chester was always a little off.
He only got along with kids, that's why he became a party performer.
I spent my whole life sticking up for my brother.
But what if I couldn't see him for who he really was?
And he and Max were so close.
What if he was hurting him and I didn't know?
Chester was my brother,
but Max is my son.
So, you wanted to protect him.
How could I look the other way?
I'd to suck it up and face my biggest fear. If not me, then who?
But I should've talked to him.
I just should've gone to him first.
Instead,
I called Stan back.
And he said that they would take care of it.
So, one day, when Chester was working,
I told them where he was.
Going somewhere?
Yeah. Home.
I don't think so.
Hey. Hey!
Help! Help!
They promised me that they weren't going to hurt Chester.
They were just gonna scare him a little bit.
And I thought, maybe a good scare...
Maybe that's all he needed.
Stop! Stop, please! Stop! Why are you doing this?
You know why, sicko! Leave our kids alone!
I would never hurt your kids or anyone's kids!
I love kids!
Yeah. We know.
- Let me go. Let me go. - Stop it! We're not gonna...
- Let me go! - Stop it!
- Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! - We won't! Stop, stop it!
{THUDS)
They didn't mean to kill him.
They said that it was an accident,
but I wasn't there, so I didn't know what to believe.
And I wanted to go to the cops and explain what happened.
But Stan said that we'd all go to jail.
And I couldn't do that to Max.
He already lost his father
and his uncle.
And he couldn't lose me, too.
So I didn't say anything.
Fear cripples you.
It makes you do nothing.
Or worse.
It makes you do something that you regret.
I should've trusted my brother.
Hey. How's it going?
Tracked down every last costume.
You didn't happen to see a deer head by chance, did you?
Deer head?
Oh, my God!
That wasn't on the list.
Max?
Max? Max!
Max? Max...
Max. Max. No! What are you doing?
Max!
Max?
Mom, what's happening?
Hey! Burn it, now!
Come with me.
Okay.
Okay. Whatever you do, stay inside this circle.
- I don't understand. - Ghosts.
You wanna know how this ties to your brother?
Cause and effect. Wrongful death spawns a vengeful spirit.
Chester?
Uncle Chester! No!
All right, I think it's time we get out of here.
Here's hoping something less murderous brings you back to Minnesota.
Like Prince. Or Cheese Curd Fest.
You had me at "curd."
I don't know how you two do this, day in, day out.
Figuring out who's possessed, who isn't.
Your life's one big poop storm, isn't it?
Spoken like a true hunter.
Really?
Hunter?
Oh, yeah. I mean, with three cases under your belt, I think you earned it.
Okay.
Yeah.
There we go.
Thank you.
- Bye. - Bye.
So, been a crazy couple of days.
Darn tootin'.
But you've been great.
I really appreciate all your hard work.
And...
I'm sorry if I was a little tough on you.
You mean treatin' me like a punching bag?
It's okay. Really.
I got baggage, too, Donna.
Everyone does.
And if it makes you feel any better, you can call me by my middle name,
Lonnie.
I think "Doug" will do just fine.
Okay.
I keep praying to God
because if it is God, and I know you think it isn't, but if it is,
and he's showing me something I don't know what to do with...
What?
The Cage.
Lucifer's Cage?
Yeah.
What if he's telling me I have to go back?
What if he's saying that's where the answer is to beating The Darkness?
Sam. No, no, okay.
Look, I don't know if these visions are coming from God or PBS or what,
but we've been down that road.
Anything having to do with that cage is, it's suicide.
You of all people know that.
So, no.
Just not gonna happen.
Okay.
English - SDH