It's toot-a-loo time for Maude Browning, Collinsport's number two trollop to buy the ranch (or, perhaps more accurately, to sleep with the fishes).
You know, when Nathan looked down upon Maude's corpse in the Rev. Trask's bed, I was half expecting a moment of inner dialogue, in which Nathan said to himself, "Gee, I always knew that this guy Trask was a little strange, but I never thought that he was into necrophilia."
To which an indignant Trask, sensing what Nathan was thinking, waved a crooked finger at him, and declared vehemently, "I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Ms. Browning! I never told anyone to lie, not a single time. Now, Nathan, I have to go back and do the witch-hunting business of the people of Collinsport, blah, blah, blah, ad nauseam."
So, as Maude Browning, a gal with a heart of gold, was wont to say, "Cheerio!"
