[in the Miss Southern Delicacies Pageant, Miss Collard Greens does fire stick tricks]
Stroker:
Very nice, very nice. Um, well, so much for talent competition. Let's see how you look in the bikini.
Stroker:
[quietly to Moo-Moo] Miss Collard Greens twirls a fine baton, but she's got junk in her trunk.
Moo-Moo:
What does this have to do with the case?
Stroker:
I'm trying to determine a pecking order so we can see who's next in line to be murdered.
Moo-Moo:
Good thinking.
Stroker:
[to the pageants] I've just conferred with the judges, and uh, looks like we have ourselves a winner. Miss Hoecakes. Give it up for Miss Hoecakes. Since you're the prettiest and you're life's is in most danger, I'd like you to come with us to safehouse.
Stroker:
[to the pageants] As for the rest of you, you should be on the look out tonight. There might be a serial killer who wants to brutally murder you in the matter of the food you're named after.
Hoop:
And good luck in the big competition this weekend.
Stroker:
Oh, hey, uh, forgot to say good luck.
Hoop:
And may the tastiest delicacy win.
Miss Squash Casserole:
[cries] C-C-Can I go to the safehouse, too?
Stroker:
Don't worry. You'll be fine.
Miss Squash Casserole:
Really?
Stroker:
Sure. I mean, there's got to be at least 10 prettier girls who'd have to be murdered first.
