[Murdoch and Crabtree are in the station house yard, preparing to undertake an experiment to determine blood spatter by having George shoot a pig’s carcass at close range.]
Constable Crabtree (being buttoned into a dress): That’s a bit snug in the bosom, Sir.
Away you go.
Will there be much spatter, Sir?
That’s what we’re here to find out. Hurry up! Shoot! The blood is draining from the pig’s flanks.
Constable Crabtree (hesitating): It’s staring at me, Sir.
George, the animal is dead. There’s no spirit left in the body.
Constable Crabtree (obviously stalling): Do pigs have a soul then, Sir?
NOW, GEORGE!!
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