Oww!
What?
Are you insane?
Stop. Stop it.
Elaine? I've been attacked.
That gang of lunatics were shooting blueberries at me.
Elaine Denton reporting live from Port Wenn,
inside the offices of Doc Martin Victim.
Whatever that is, we don't have time for it. Okay?
We have a packed schedule, and I need you
to secure the perimeter.
Unaware that his first patient
was already in the exam room,
Doc Martin was apparently also unaware of the fact
that this weekend is the Annual Blueberry Festival.
A tragic turn of events for a tragic man
named Doc Martin,
who was a doctor.
I just love the Blueberry Festival.
The street fair, the tarts, the pies.
Stop talking and open your mouth.
I'm gonna be getting in the vat
and stomping blueberries to make wine.
Not with this foot fungus, you're not.
I'm deathly allergic to blueberries,
but I wanna eat, like, a lot of pie.
So can you give me a pill that makes it okay?
- Yes, of course. - Really?
No. That way.
All right, Elaine, we only have five minutes for lunch,
so why don't you go out and get...
Where is everyone?
Faced with an empty waiting room,
Doc Martin finally had room to feel empty.
Will you stop with that voice?
I have to get this reporter thing right.
I'm covering the Blueberry Festival on my live stream.
I want it to look professional.
And dressing up as Newscaster Smurf
screams professional.
We have eight patients this afternoon
and my aunt's supposed to be next.
- Where is she? - Yeah, everybody cancelled.
No one is going to the doctor on a Friday afternoon
during the Blueberry Festival.
Actually, shouldn't you be getting ready too?
Ready for what?
You're gonna be a judge in
the big blueberry pie contest tomorrow?
- Oh, no, I'm not. - Okay, but you are.
'Cause Dr. Reese was always a judge.
Yeah, but I'm not Dr. Reese.
I am here with a local old, old man
who is disoriented and confused.
He thinks that he can ignore one of our most beloved traditions.
Beloved traditions? Please.
You people would throw a parade at a new stoplight.
I'm not a pie judge.
- I'm a physician. - Where are you going?
I'm going to see my next scheduled patient.
More on this developing story as it develops,
reporting alive from over here by my desk.
I am Elaine Denton for Eyewitness Blues.
That was it. That was it.
Okay. All the festival booths. Yep.
They're going right there. And... Oh, my eyes.
All right, now, doc.
All right now.
Hey, good morning.
Got something for you.
See at the pie contest, Judge Martin.
Okay, okay, and the dunk tank,
it's going right over there.
Uh, hey, sorry. Give me a second.
Damn! Ah!
Uh, this...
Oh!
Oh, will you stop following me?
Just go away.
Put that down, it's not mine. Shoo!
Well, good morning to you.
Uh, good morning.
Perfect weather for the festival, wouldn't you say, hm?
You seem to be taking it very seriously.
My favorite time of year.
But doesn't all that bother your skin or your eyelids?
All that face paint.
- Face paint. - Hm.
What face paint?
Well, Martin, what a nice surprise.
And you're just in time for lunch. Mwah!
Not here for lunch.
Oh, you're just dropping by? Well, good.
I've just been thinking that we should spend more time together.
And look, now, here you are.
I've come here to give you your physical.
What?
Your file says, you haven't had a checkup
in three years.
Why don't you hop up on the counter
and we'll take a look at you?
Oh, you gotta be joking.
There's nothing funny about a 73-year-old woman
avoiding her annual urinalysis. Now, up you go.
If you think I'm going to let you examine me
in my own kitchen,
then I'm gonna have to fillet you
with my boning knife.
Aunt Sarah, I need you to take this seriously.
You may be my doctor, but you're also my nephew,
and right now, we're having lunch.
So wash your hands.
Honestly.
You know, they've asked me to be a judge
at the pie contest... with you.
And I said yes, I thought that that would be fun.
I hear that Elizabeth Evans
is making some kind of blueberry meringue
or something like that.
Are you really taking all these medications?
Well, two of them are for my high blood pressure,
and the rest are, I don't know--
Osteoporosis,
acid reflux, high cholesterol.
Good God, woman, you're a ticking timebomb.
A-and this fried fish for lunch
isn't helping the situation either.
Have you thought about getting some exercise?
Maybe some leafy greens in your diet?
Dr. Reese told me to avoid the leafy greens
because they might interact badly
with my blood thinner and I might pass out or something.
And kale tastes like crap.
There's a new medication on the market
that won't have those complications.
I'll write you a prescription.
In the meantime, we're gonna have a chat about
skipping medical appointments at your advanced age.
If you're gonna continue to play doctor,
I don't wanna eat lunch with you, so get out.
Just go. See you at the pie contest.
I'm not judging the pie contest.
Fine, then, I won't see you at all.
Fried fish is delicious.
Oh, Judge Martin,
what do you prefer, flaky pie crust or puffy?
You lost me a judge.
Judge Martin,
do you enjoy a latticework topping?
I don't trust myself to do a leaf pattern--
I'm not judging the pie contest.
- Oh! - Martin. Hello.
Where are you headed?
Well, I'm on my way for some lunch,
but it seems like blueberry mania
has swallowed this town whole.
Right. Well, that time of year.
Which reminds me, I've been wondering
um, if you happen to like cinnamon.
I'm scared to ask. But why are we talking about spices?
Or maybe vanilla or caramel.
Little ribbons of caramel
wrapping gently around your tastebuds.
Oh, no, Louisa, not you too.
I'm sorry, I'm not gonna be judging the pie contest.
I guess I'm just another desperate pie baker
looking for an edge.
- You've all lost your mind. - Maybe.
But this is a big deal in this small town.
I mean, it's-it's nice.
It's tradition. It's competitive.
Yeah, it's also high in fat and sugar.
Yeah, but first place is a little blue crown.
But Barry Hammers always wins.
Always. He always takes first. Always.
Now the real competition in Port Wenn is for a second.
Oh, wait. What about ginger?
You know, I mean, that's an interesting combination, right?
With the blueberries.
Louisa, Louisa, Louisa, I am not gonna be judging.
Judge Martin, do these berries look fresh to you?
Am I crazy if I add mint to my pie?
No, no, no. Listen up, everyone.
I am the town doctor and my only concern is your health.
So you can skip your appointments
and ignore your well-being, but I will not be deciding
the winner of your ridiculous contest, because I don't care.
Consider the ginger.
We'll talk about it later.
Delighted to have you in for lunch, doctor.
It was either this or be force fed
blueberries in the parking lot.
I wanna take the garden salad
with chicken, please.
Unfortunately, we don't have
the garden salad today.
- I am so sorry. - All right.
- Uh, steam fish. - No, not that either.
- Shepherd's pie then. - Hmm. Wouldn't that be lovely?
We're out of that one too.
What do you have in the kitchen?
Today, in the kitchen, we have Greg.
- It's this pie contest madness. - Oh, no.
Oh, yeah, every year he decides
that he's the chef, that he can cook.
- And yet-- - No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
I chilled this dough. I swear I did.
- It's not fair. - I'm not allowed in there.
I'm a pie contest judge. Conflict of interest.
And, yes, I heard that you stepped down from your post.
God knows who they're gonna get to replace you.
It's gonna be a long weekend.
Ah, but we still might have
one last tuna salad in the back fridge.
- I hate mayonnaise. - Oh, beggars can't be choosers.
I'll go check.
Tuna salad is delicious.
Lots of mayonnaise.
Uh, I-I-I'm sorry, uh, you...
I have to ask.
You're blue. All of you. And no makeup.
You're just blue.
It's because of all the blueberries I eat.
You're joking.
You're not? Uh, no, you can't be serious.
Blueberries wouldn't...
Yo, that's on me.
Yo, I'm so sorry.
Totally, totally my fault.
I just couldn't see you because my eyes.
Let's have a look. Put your head back.
Okay. I-I think everything's fine.
It's just allergies. Happens every year.
How about you let me make the diagnosis
and you stick to being an idiot?
- Seems fair. - You need to come to my office.
I can't, doc. I gotta go set up the dunk tank.
Yes, I suppose a dunk tank is more important
than you going blind. Come on. This way.
Okay.
No, this way. The other way, Mark.
This way.
Ah!
Yes.
It's ready. Okay, that's good.
So just like, keep my face in frame all the time.
- Yes. - Like, I'll stay, but...
Shoo! Go, go, shoo!
You know, they replaced you on the judging panel
with Bert.
Ooh. Big mistake.
You do not wanna give my dad
that much power.
Power? It's a pie contest.
Oh, come on, doc.
You know, everything here is just so nice
and people are so sweet.
We just need one day a year to be, like,
really competitive and vicious.
Like "The Purge," but with blueberries.
All right, well, the eye drops and the warm compress
should help your eyes some, but I strongly suspect
you have Reiter's syndrome.
- Really? - Mm-hmm.
I haven't written anything all week.
Maybe a parking ticket. And in my dream journal--
R-E... Reiter's syndrome.
Is is it painful to urinate, Mark?
Typically people suffering from Reiter's
can't see, can't pee, and can't climb a tree
due to untreated chlamydia.
Chlamydia? Chlamydia?
- The STD Chlamydia? - Yes.
How many sexual partners have you had
since your breakup with Louisa?
I don't know, like four, five...
eight...
- I think nine. - My friend Gretchen.
- Ten. - Debbie
Eleven.
- Ugh! - Come on, doc.
You know what it's like.
Big man, small pond,
all the fish jumping into my net.
- You get it? - Yeah, I'd rather not.
So you need to notify
each of your sexual partners of their exposure.
Wait, doc. Notify them?
Like, tell them that I might have given them...
That they might have chlamydia?
Exactly.
And this will clear up the infection.
Prescription for doxycycline.
No. No. Wait, doc. Doc, wait.
So, like a prescription that I need to, like, go get filled?
Yes. I assume you know how these things work.
Elaine, I'm going out to get some food,
and nothing is gonna stop me.
Okay, I guess I have to...
Somebody's gotta pick up meds from their mommy.
Shut up, Al.
Yes, sir.
That's Barry Hammers.
That's our Blue-Barry. Get it?
Blue-Barry.
Here's your coffee, Judge Large.
- No charge, of course. - Thank you.
And he's the one who wins first place
in the pie contest every year?
- Him? - Yeah.
He-he's basically
the Blueberry Festival mascot,
a master baker, and he's blue.
That's because year in, year out, all he eats--
Now, that's ridiculous.
You could eat every blueberry on the planet.
- It wouldn't turn you blue. - You know, I turned orange...
when I was on that carrot diet.
- It's not the same thing, Bert. - Tell that the Blue Barry.
Judge Large, almost done
with your complimentary oil change.
Oh, thanks, Billy.
And, hey, tell the missus I'd love
to get my backyard weeded.
No, there must be something wrong with him.
Some condition, and he's using a--
Leave him alone, doc.
Poor old Blue Barry looks a hell of a lot better now
than when we were in high school.
Scary Barry.
He was a real fright back then.
Scary Barry? Why did they call him that?
- Well-- - Hey, Bert, your car's all done.
Excuse me. Pie business.
Hey, Billy, how's the bacon coming?
You know, the bottom's still soggy...
Oh, Martin, hi. I've been looking for you.
I just wanted to apologize for being so forward
about the pie contest earlier.
I just think that maybe my ambition got best of--
Why is this contest so important to you?
Oh, well, um...
I've always loved to bake.
And in the past, I, I couldn't really try my best
because I couldn't outshine Sally,
my future mother-in-law.
Former future mother-in-law.
I-I always had to wallow in third place
and let her take second year after year.
But now, the gloves are off.
You know, I'm not with Mark anymore,
and I've got a brand-new baking trick up my sleeve, and...
I don't know, I just feel like
maybe if I could just bust out of third place,
that maybe I could get everyone to see me in a new light.
You know how small towns
can put you in a box, give you a label?
You're the spinster. You're the idiot.
- You're the grump. - Pie judge.
Exactly.
And you? You're the...
- Heartbreaker. - Hm.
Well...
it does seem like a colossal waste
of time, energy, and food,
but I suppose these little contests
do help to distract people
from the dreary realities
of living in a dead-end town.
Hmm.
Well, thank you for that.
Um, but this contest
actually really means something to me.
You know, especially this year
when, uh, when I'm trying to prove to myself, actually,
that I can, can be more than I thought I could.
Now, listen, Johnny.
I let you off the hook last week twice
because you were filling mailboxes with fish heads.
All right? No!
So you're gonna do this for me, okay?
- Here. - Dude, this is crazy.
Your name's on the prescription. The pharmacist is your mom.
Okay, but she's really busy, and she may not notice. Okay?
Here, come on. I'll give you my handcuffs.
I'm not gonna do it.
Your eyes look super grody.
Shut up, Johnny! Huh?
Yeah. Your little baby bike!
Sally.
What's supposed to go right here?
Oh, that's for my next trophy, of course.
Oh, but you're a judge this year.
We should not be talking about the pie contest.
Okay, here. Let me ring you up.
With the new prescription,
that is $127.90.
What? $127 a month? What the hell?
Well, it's this new blood thinner
that Dr. Best puts you on.
It's very pricey.
No, no, no, I'll just stick to the old one.
I'm not paying that.
Well, you do have one refill left.
Should I call Dr. Best to make sure it's okay?
No, no, I'm keeping him
out of my personal health issues from now on.
He comes to lunch and brings his stethoscope.
Ooh! Is it cold on your skin?
I bet Dr. Best has very warm hands.
Sally. He's my nephew.
All right.
$21.45 then.
- Okay. - Oh, hi, honey.
- What brings you in? - Oh, hey, hey, ma.
Can't really talk right now.
I have this developing crime situation
down on Lincoln.
Um, I just need to fill this prescript
real fast. No biggie. No diggity.
- Did Louisa do this to you? - No, mom, stop.
What is it? Gonorrhea? Syphilis?
The big H? The little H?
No, no, it has nothing do, nothing like that.
And Louisa has nothing to do with it.
It's...
It's chlamydia.
Chlamydia? Well, that's not so bad.
Everybody's had chlamydia, sweetheart.
At least it's not the crabs.
Crabs are so much worse.
Looking down and seeing those little monsters snapping at you.
Who gave this to you?
Was it that Gretchen?
Elaine's friend, the one with the face?
They all have faces...
Oh, yeah, sounds right.
- She's awful. - No.
I don't know. I don't know!
Honey, relax.
You're a single man now.
Something like this was bound to happen.
I'm actually proud of you
sowing your wild oats.
And until this antibiotic kicks in,
a good place to dip your doinker
for a few minutes every night
is a nice cold glass of 7-Up.
Mom, stop!
- Hm. - Really?
Yeah, honey.
Something about the bubbles.
It's better. This is...
Ah! You're not supposed to be here.
I'm still getting ready for tomorrow.
I'm so sorry. Should I come back at a better time?
Yeah, actually. This is a mess.
Al can't be my cameraman anymore.
He has to run the dunk tank tomorrow
at the street fair.
What are you doing here?
I'm looking to see if Dr. Reese
ever treated Barry Hammers.
I need to understand why that man is blue.
Something could actually be wrong with him.
A whole half day off, and you can't stop doctoring.
Not gonna find any files on there for Barry Hammers.
- I'm not? - Blue Barry?
He was never a patient here. Like, ever.
Someone actually told me...
Was it Irma? I think it was Irma.
Was it Irma? I don't know if it was Irma specifically.
- Irregar-- - Told you what?
Irma says that Blue Barry
had some kind of horrible medical condition
when he was in high school.
He had to be seen by some specialist in Bar Harbor.
- A specialist? - Yeah. Okay, listen, listen.
You're gonna be my cameraman tomorrow at the festival.
Oh.
I most certainly will not be doing that.
Al is out. You're the only option that I have left.
And I'm covering the festival from 9:00 a.m.
to midnight tomorrow, so please wear some comfortable shoes.
Not these.
For the last time, I will not be attending
or participating in this godforsaken festival.
What?
What? What-what is this look?
No, I just...
I would just like to remind you
that there are certain things
that I'm doing.
Certain blood things
that I am doing.
For you.
Things that I may not want to do,
but that I do anyway.
So, maybe...
you could do something for me
that you don't wanna do.
This is blackmail.
You are blackmailing me.
And remember,
this is the good side of my face.
Doc Martin and Elaine's office.
How can I help you today?
Oh, yes. Okay. Yes.
The doctor is needed at the Salty Breeze.
Somebody has burned their hand.
And I will see you tomorrow
at the Blueberry Festival
at 9:00 a.m., live from Port Wenn.
Have a safe evening.
And goodnight.
He's been baking around the clock,
not sleeping, not being careful.
It'll be fine.
But what isn't fine...
is people getting injured because of a pie contest.
No, you can't wrap it up too much.
I need my hand all day tomorrow. I have to bake.
- Do you hear what you're saying? - I have to bake.
You're having a nervous breakdown
over a pie contest.
I have to bake.
Greg, honey, this pie contest
is giving you an anxiety attack.
But won't it be worth it if I win?
No.
All year long, all I hear about
is George's lobster rolls and George's chowder.
I... People just see me as the money guy,
some silent partner,
George's less creative other half,
but I'm more than that.
Can't you just give him a sedative?
Everyone in this town needs a sedative.
I can't win the pie contest.
Barry will win.
- Barry always wins. - Always wins.
But for once, I'd like to just place second,
third, honorable mention, tartest filling.
It would prove that I can make things, too.
That I'm good with my hands.
- Just not this hand. - I know.
I should be happy for all of Barry's success.
Irma told me what a troubled youth he had.
Wait, what do you mean by that?
Just how he rose above all his medical issues
to become this local legend.
I was a troubled teen, too.
In high school, the football team locked me
in the janitor's closet
after I highlighted my hair.
Where's my prize?
So you're saying Barry was sick as a kid?
- Terrible illness? - It was just acne.
Horrible acne. Apparently awful.
Disfiguring.
Irma went to the prom with Scary Barry.
So he had bad skin?
And my mother disowned me.
Maybe I should write that in berries
across the top of my pie.
Greg, honey. Hey, look at me.
- Look at me. - Look that way.
I love you. So much.
But this is not worth it.
Year after year, you whip yourself up
into a lather over a blueberry!
Oh!
Yes!
Hi.
You getting this, though?
Are you seeing that?
Ah, okay. Ahem.
Reporting live from Port Wenn's
Annual Blueberry Festival,
I am Elaine Denton.
Let us take this moment to get the reactions
from the man and wo-man on the street, shall we?
- This should be fascinating. - Just seriously.
So it's men and women on the street?
It's everyone on the street.
Mm. You wanna get a reaction from the pig?
Won't you to ask the pig a question?
Hello, good sir.
How are you finding the festival this year?
- It's okay. - Okay?
So th-that's all you're feeling?
Uh, okay.
Oh, no. I'm sorry. I'm asking.
- It's just okay? - Oh, okay.
Okay. Have you ever actually hit someone
with your rolling pin?
Cobbler, crumble, or crisp,
can anything really compete with pie?
Hello, ma'am, have you traveled a great distance
to sample Maine's finest blueberries
here in Port Wenn?
Elaine, it's me, Irma.
Hey, how many people are watching my live feed now?
How should I know?
The number is at the top of the screen.
What are you, like a hundred?
Two.
Al and someone named Port Wenn-dy.
That's it?
Nobody else in the whole town is watching my coverage?
It's not the moon landing, and everyone is here.
Oh, it's a disaster.
How am I ever gonna get any kind of a national following?
I can't even get my friends and neighbors to watch me.
Wait. We have another live viewer.
- It's your mother. - She's just tuning in now?
No, but she's commenting. "Is that my blazer?"
Oh, this is something.
This is something. This is something.
Doc!
All right, now, everybody!
One dollar per throw.
All proceeds to benefit
the Jailhouse Black Mold Removal Fund!
- Oh, Kimberly, um, how are you? - I got your message.
Oh, right, about the, um, the notification.
Right. Just wanted to keep you aware.
So I just have to go there because...
It's just I have a dunk tank thing
that I'm kind of doing right now.
My mother heard the voicemail you left me.
- She did? - I'm gonna kill you.
Okay. Okay. You know, we don't need to, like, hurl...
Just, you know, we can...
Okay, so if we just...
Marilyn? Yvonne? Gretchen?! Gretchen.
Oh, you guys just got my call.
That's good because, that's good
because sometimes it went to voicemail.
I wasn't sure. Okay, ladies.
Let's just remember that this is a game, huh?
It's all for fun.
A larger than normal turnout
at the dunk tank this year.
All of the players seem
very motivated.
Your faces are just so angry.
- Okay! - Whoa!
That was a real slammer there, Karen. That was...
- Whoo! - My name is Carol.
Carol. I meant... I knew that.
She feels very strongly about
eradicating that jailhouse mold.
You, you gotta put some high heat on that one.
Whoo! Okay, that was...
Wha!
Okay! I felt it.
Everything got, like, whooped.
Okay.
Okay, okay, okay. Enough, enough, back off!
Ladies, come on! Come on, enough, enough!
Okay, enough!
Hey.
Is this embarrassing for me?
Yes.
Attention! Attention, everybody!
It's almost time! The judges have finished
their final tasting round, and soon we'll begin
the award ceremony for the Annual Port Wenn's
Blueberry Pie Contest.
Now, somewhere in the crowd
could be this year's winner.
Who will it be?
Come on into Legion Hall and grab a seat!
Oh, wait, oh, wait.
We're at capacity.
Sorry.
Well, that's not my fault!
Come on, you guys should have known!
No, no.
You know better than that.
- Hey. - All right.
- Um, sorry. - Hm.
Perfect.
Tucked snugly into a crowded firehouse.
Shh.
Completely shut out every year.
Left behind every year.
I'm trying to watch this.
Oh, of course, of course. I'm sorry.
Okay, how many people are watching now?
On the live feed, I mean.
- One. - Just my mom?
Okay. I guess Al made it inside then.
Okay. All right, ahem, all right.
This is so stressful.
Get a hold of yourself.
Louisa, you're cutting off the circulation in your fingers.
Just another simple person
trying to distract herself from the dreary reality, I suppose.
I-I didn't mean to imply that you were simple.
I-I was only...
I-it's just a pie contest.
No, it's more than that. But you wouldn't understand
because you don't want to understand.
And you don't want to understand
because you actually don't give a crap.
I'm number two.
Good evening. Good afternoon, mom.
I'm Elaine Denton
recording, reporting live
inside Legion Hall where judging has just commenced.
Demenced. Has ended.
And basically they've, they've eaten all the pies
and soon will know the winner.
Live. With me.
Your daughter. For Blue Witness Eyes.
Eyewitness Blues.
Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon.
Uh, we, the judges, have come up with our final decisions.
Now, as you know, this is a blind taste test.
And it is my job, privilege, honor,
to announce that in third place,
pie 21.
What?
That's me. That's me.
No. That's me.
- No. - That's me.
Wow, big upset.
Greg Garrison has taken third place.
Also, mom, can I keep the blazer?
- I think it looks good on me. - I did it! I did it!
I made something good! And I placed!
I knew you could do it, honey!
But I-I-I always win third. Always.
Does this mean...
And in second place, we chose
pie number seven.
C'est moi.
Well, mom, you were right.
Sally Milo has taken
second place again this year.
Wait. Wait.
What does this mean?
I couldn't...
Did I? Have I?
Have I taken first?
And thank you. In first place...
Excuse me.
In first place is pie 13.
What?
Oh! Again?
And as always, Barry Hammers takes first place
in the Annual Port Wenn Pie Baking Contest.
I didn't even...
I didn't even place?
Aunt Sarah!
I'm fine.
No, your heartbeat is weak and irregular.
How long until the ambulance gets here?
Ten minutes. They're all out at the hospital.
- We can take her in my car. - No, we need the oxygen.
- We can do ten minutes. - I'm okay.
No. You just need to hold still and be quiet, okay?
Oh, um, clear the street outside of Legion Hall.
An ambulance is coming for Sarah,
and everybody think good thoughts.
- She's gonna be okay. - Okay.
We're waiting for the ambulance.
- ...waiting for the ambulance... - I don't understand.
She was fine all day,
right up until the last round of judging.
When did she start feeling ill?
We ate so much.
I think it started
just when we were tasting the last few pies.
Those pies.
Well, she is on a wide assortment of medications.
Possible some ingredient in one of the pies
is interacting badly with...
W-which of those pies did she eat less?
- Um, um, that one, number seven. - Oh, that's my pie.
Okay, I need you to tell me exactly what's in your pie
right now, every ingredient.
Oh, it's, uh, nothing unusual.
Um, lard, lard in the, um, organic wheat crust.
Mm-hmm.
And, uh, sugar, cornstarch, lemon.
Blueberries, of course.
Oh, do I have to say it?
Yes!
Just a sprinkle of powdered MSG.
My mother always said it made the blueberries pop.
And it was nothing.
I was like, no, barely nothing there.
Monosodium glutamate would only cause
a slight increase in heartrate.
That's not what's happening here. It's not the MSG.
But that MSG is a violation of contest rules.
All organic, all homegrown ingredients. You cheated.
Sally Milo, I'm afraid we have to eliminate you
from the competition.
No. No, George, no!
Well, w-who made that pie, number 14, over there?
That would have been in fourth place, right?
That's mine. That's, that's my pie.
Oh, um, hello, everyone.
Uh, a very surprising turn of events
here at the pie contest.
Quiet, everyone, everyone!
What pie did Sarah eat before Sally's?
Uh, that one, pie 13.
Yeah, yeah, that's Blue Barry's blueberry pie.
I can guarantee you that the ingredients in my pie
are, as always, 100% organic and homegrown.
Did you grow your ingredients yourself?
Yes.
And did you use any fertilizers or pesticides?
How dare you even ask me that?
Do you even know what organic means?
Are we gonna really let this outsider
come into our town and question me?
Blue Barry, the Blueberry Festival mascot.
Excuse me, I was merely asking if...
Then I am merely telling you
that I was guaranteed my pie's ingredients
were 100% certified organic.
Wait, y-you were guaranteed by whom?
By me.
I guaranteed me.
You bought that pie, didn't you?
No, no, of course not.
I don't care if that pie came
from your kitchen or the dumpster
behind the Salty Breeze.
I only care about my aunt's life.
Now, do you or do you not know
what's in that pie?
I don't know. I bought it.
Online. But there was nothing unusual in it.
I-I swear to you, I swear.
I wish I could describe
the feeling in the room right now.
- It is electric. - You're B-Blue Barry.
Be-because of all the blueberries you eat.
Because, year in and year out, around the clock,
you're baking blueberry pies.
I don't even know how to cook!
Oh, my gosh.
And it's not from blueberries, Bert.
He's been using colloidal silver for, what, 40 years?
You saw that dermatologist when you were a teenager
and he prescribed it for your chronic acne, right?
But he was only supposed to use the lotion for two months,
not decades, and he turned himself blue,
which is a long-term side effect of overuse.
You have to stop using it.
I liked being blue.
It became my identity.
Gave me a place in this town.
I wasn't the freak anymore.
I was a... mascot.
At least I made my pie!
- If I'm out, so's he! - Oh, my God.
It is moments like these that remind us
why we are alive and why we bake pies.
And what about you, Louisa? Wh-what's in yours?
Oh, uh, nothing.
I mean, I mean, nothing that could hurt her.
But didn't you say you had a new baking trick
up your sleeve? What was it?
I-I soaked the blueberries in spinach water
for 24 hours before baking.
I read about it in an old French cookbook.
It's supposed to keep the berries sweet,
but I promised I grew the spinach myself
and I didn't break any rules. I never break any rules.
Well, fresh blueberries in cold water
would absorb a massive amount of calcium
and oxalate from fresh spinach,
and her old blood thinners would have reacted negatively,
but I switched her to a new medication, so that--
She didn't take the new medication
because it was too expensive.
She's still on the old blood thinner.
I knew I should have called you.
The ambulance is almost here.
- It's the spinach. - Oh, no.
She needs a shot of heparin. She's gonna be okay.
Let's just sit her up.
I'm glad she's gonna be okay, but I can't.
- Over here. Over here. - This way, this way...
I just can't believe that I won the...
I actually won.
Well, I guess you'll be making my favorites all month.
Fried chicken, and mac and cheese, and that--
- Stop talking. - What?
Gregory Denise Garrison,
did you just tell Bert that we would,
well, I would make his favorite meals
if you won the pie contest?
Oh, wait, wait. It's not over yet, folks.
No, of course not. I would never.
I mean, I may have mentioned as a joke
that we would cater to his tastes for a bit,
and if I were to place in the contest,
I may have pointed out which pie was mine.
I don't know. This contest makes me crazy.
Well, Sarah is on her way to the hospital.
Doc Martin says she's going to be fine,
but if I'm not mistaken,
there is one last twist in the pie judging,
and, yes, here it comes.
Gregory Garrison, you are summarily disqualified
from the competition for unscrupulous behavior.
We will talk tonight.
He is out, Greg is gone,
and like a phoenix rising from the ashes.
Which means the official and final winner
of this year's Annual Port Wenn
Blueberry Pie Making Contest is...
Can you believe what we are seeing here today?
Louisa Gavin.
Whoo-hoo-hoo!
Oh, my God!
Yeah!
Wait, wait a minute. Wait, wait, wait.
We have to get Sarah to the hospital.
No, no, you stay. She'll be fine.
You did it.
You deserve this, you won.
Oh, I, uh...
Oh!
- Stop! - Stop!
Ah!
Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh!
Did I scare you?
Yes.
I don't like the idea
of being in this stupid town without you.
And if you couldn't afford the new medication,
you should have told me.
I'm sorry, Martin, I just...
I was so annoyed because...
I thought you were coming for lunch,
but you didn't.
And I just...
I'm just trying to make up for lost time.
I just wanna--
You wanna spend more time with me?
Yeah.
Well...
I may have rejected the role of pie judge,
but I will accept the role of your nephew.
And you can be my weekly lunch date.
Guaranteed.
Twice a week.
Provided you follow lunch
with a brisk walk of at least 10,000 steps.
- Ten thousand steps? - Mm-hmm.
And no more fried cod.
Hello. Would anyone care for tonight's dessert?
Ice cream.
Nope.
Oh.