03x37 - The Community Picnic

[bunniefuu]

[music playing]

-Dad, it sure would be

terrible if there were orphans

in the world, and nobody

helped them, wouldn't it?

-Oh, I think everyone tries to

help orphans when they need it.

-Even when it takes

a little trouble?

-Well, helping people usually

does take a little trouble.

-This will take very

little trouble, Dad.

All we have to do is watch where

we sit when we take a bath?

-What?

-Well, people down the block

left a dozen orphan goldfish

when they moved away yesterday.

-Goldfish?

-I put them in our bathtub.

Helping's fun, isn't it, dad?

-Dennis!

[theme music]

-(SINGING) Come,

sweetheart, tell me.

Now is the time.

You tell me your dream.

And I'll tell you mine.

[howling]

-All right, Fremont.

Quiet.

-Don't blame the pooch, John.

The way you m*nled that last

note, any dog would howl.

-And you do it every time.

Are you with us, or against us?

-I like the way you

sing, Mr. Wilson.

It's real different.

-Well, we still have another

day before the charity picnic.

You'll be perfect by then, John.

-You bet I well.

Well, let's have our last

practice here tomorrow night,

right?

-All right.

-You sure we ought to

go through with this?

We didn't even sound good to me.

-Yeah, how did you let us get

hooked into this entertaining,

anyway.

-Oh, our quartet will be

the hit of the occasion.

-Well, I hope so.

-Good night, John.

-Good night.

-See you tomorrow night.

-Won't you stay for more coffee?

-No thanks.

No more tonight.

-No thank you.

-You sounded wonderful.

-Thank you.

-You know, I can't understand

Finch and Quigley not having

confidence in our quartet.

Why, when we sing out

there at that picnic,

everybody is going to be amazed.

-Oh, I'm sure they will, John.

-Are you going to be in the

three-legged races and stuff

again this year, dad?

-No.

When the athletic events

come up this year,

I'm just going to watch.

Uh, your brother and

I teamed up last year.

-They sure did.

And they were the favorite

team, weren't they mom?

-Well, they were our

favorites, anyway, dear.

-Remember how everybody

was laughing and hollering

in that race where

dad had to crawl

through all those barrels?

-Well, you make it sound

very exciting, Dennis.

-Sure was.

And they said dad

did something that

had never been done before.

-Really, Henry?

What was that?

Did you set some new kind

of a record, or something?

-Well not exactly, John.

I--

-Heck no.

He was crawling through

the last barrel,

and he got his pants

caught on a nail.

And he had to wear

the barrel home.

Oh, you should have seen

his picture in the paper.

--[chuckling] They got

my bad side, John.

So this year I'm just

going to be a spectator.

-I don't blame you, Henry.

I'll sit with you,

and help you spectate.

-That'll be $ . for

this shaving lotion.

Need any razor blades?

-No, not today, thanks.

-Can I sell you anything, John?

-No, thank you.

I just came down for the walk.

-You'll have to walk back.

Need any vitamin pills?

-I believe not.

-Well, good morning, Mitchell.

-Hello, Brady.

-Say, I'm glad I ran into you.

I understand you're in

line for congratulations.

-For what?

-For staying out of the

sports events tomorrow.

You won't have to take your

annual b*ating from me.

-Yes, I'm sitting this one out.

-Say, uh, you're George

Wilson's brother, aren't you?

-I am.

-Sorry, John, I should

have introduced you.

This is Jack Brady, one of

our more confident citizens.

-Yeah, your brother

was Mitchell's partner

at last year's picnic.

Boy, I rarely m*rder*d them.

-Indeed?

-Yeah, it was pitiful.

Say, I don't suppose you'd care

to team up with Mitchell here,

and give me a cr*ck

at you, would you?

-No, I, I don't plan to enter.

-Too bad.

I'd like to add another

Wilson scalp to my belt.

-Oh, apparently you feel

that any contest between us

would have only one result?

-I'm positive.

-You certainly are.

Henry, would you

accept me as a partner?

-Why yes, John.

-Splendid.

I'd like to prove

to this gentleman

that deeds speak

louder than words.

-Ho!

This is great!

I open the door, and in

flies a pair of pigeons.

-Well, I think that

Henry and I can

give a good account

of ourselves.

-Oh, yeah?

Well wait until you

meet my partner.

Hey Tiny, come on in here.

This is Tiny Hawkins,

new assistant foreman

down at our place.

This is Henry Mitchell.

-Pleased to meet you.

-That's quite a grip you've got.

-Oh, I'm sorry if

I hurt you, honest.

I wasn't showing off or nothing.

-And this is John Wilson.

-If you don't mind,

I'll just nod.

--[chuckling] He's just a

big, overgrown kid, Wilson.

And speaking of kids, Mitchell,

you can tell that boy of yours

that my Johnny will win the

sports events tomorrow, too.

[chuckling] Let's go, Tiny.

-We'd better hurry

home, Henry, and get

in some good practice for

our athletic contests.

-It would be a waste of time.

He's so big.

-What if he is?

David defeated Goliath.

-I'd hate to throw rocks at him.

-A little tug of w*r should

tone up our muscles, Henry.

We can't let Brady and

his trained gorilla

b*at us without a struggle.

-I'm not going to let

Johnny Grady b*at me either.

I'm going to run

faster, blow up balloons

faster, and do

everything faster.

-Well, that's fine, son.

-I'm going to practice

the sack race first.

Could you help me into it?

-Oh, sure.

Here.

Remember your balance.

-OK, dad.

-Very important.

I bet this is how a baby

kangaroo feels, huh Mr. Wilson?

-Well, I don't know.

I have never been a kangaroo,

baby or otherwise, Dennis.

-Well, here I go.

Jeepers, this is easy.

-Uh, Henry, we'll use this

pillow as a center line.

Now you take the

end of the rope.

We'll try to pull

each other across it.

-Yeah.

-Get a good grip.

Now when I say pull, you pull.

All right.

Pull.

There we go.

Oh!

-Whoa!

Did I get in your way, Mr.

Wilson, or did you get in mine?

-Dennis, you'd better run along.

Mr. Wilson and I

have to practice.

-Jeepers, dad.

I've got to practice, too.

We all want to win

tomorrow, don't we?

-Dennis, my boy,

how would you like

to do something important to

help your father and me win?

-Sure, Mr. Wilson.

What is it?

-Well, we want to practice

the potato and spoon race.

-Oh, you mean the one where

you run back and forth

with a potato and a spoon?

-That's right.

Now there isn't a single

potato in the house.

-Oh, you want me to

go to the market, huh?

-Good, my boy, good.

A-a-and charge it to me.

-OK.

-Uh, Dennis, out of the sack.

-OK, dad.

-Good thinking, John.

I

-Not only have it

here, but here.

-There you are.

Thank you, and, uh, call again.

-Hi, Mr. Quigley.

-Well, hello, Dennis.

What can I do for you today?

-I'm here to look

at your potatoes.

-Oh, just a minute son.

I'll wait on you.

-You don't have to, Mr. Quigly.

All I want is--

-No, I don't want

you rooting around

over here all by yourself.

-Mr. Quigley, all I want is--

-You don't have to tell me.

Your mother always gets

five pounds of potatoes.

There you are.

-But I don't want five pounds.

I just want one.

-Are you sure?

-Sure I'm sure.

-Well, very well.

One pound it is.

-Not one pound, Mr. Quigley.

Just one potato.

-One potato?

Is your mother flip?

-It's not for mom.

It's for Mr. Wilson.

-Oh, Wilson, huh?

He must be on a crash diet.

All right.

There you are, with

my compliments.

-Jeepers, I can't use

this one, Mr. Quigley.

It's too big.

-Too big for what?

-For the spoon and

potato race tomorrow.

I've got to have a little

one that won't fall out.

-Dennis, as much as the sale

of one potato means to me,

I do have a customer

waiting over there.

-Oh, you wait on her.

I can find the right size.

Do you keep the little

potatoes on the bottom,

like you do the

little strawberries?

-Shh!

[music playing]

-Hey, there's a little one.

-Oh, I knew I shouldn't

have left you alone.

-That old bin's pretty

weak, Mr. Quigley.

-A guy owns a grocery store,

along comes a little kid,

makes a bowling alley out of it.

-Wait, Mr. Quigley.

That's it.

That's the one I want.

Boy, you sure know how to pick

out potatoes, Mr. Quigley.

It fits perfectly.

-Well, then take it

and go far, far away.

-OK.

Hey, mom, what's in the bowl?

-Same thing that was in it

when you asked me a minute ago.

-Macaroni salad?

-That's right.

It hasn't changed.

-Can I taste one, just

one little old macaroni?

-That answer hasn't

changed either.

-Jeepers, mom.

I'm awful hungry.

You wouldn't want me to starve

in my own house, would you?

-Oh, don't be so pitiful.

We'll be at the picnic

grounds in less than an hour.

-OK, mom.

Boy, those eggs sure

look good, Mrs. Wilson.

-They're just ordinary

hard boiled eggs, dear.

-I bet they're not ordinary

the way you boil them.

I bet they're real special.

-Oh, I hardly think that.

Just let me taste one, huh?

Then I can tell you

how special they are.

-Dennis.

-OK, mom.

-Hands off, young man.

-Jeepers, mom.

I was going to take a gizzard.

Gizzards are hard and tough.

Nobody would eat them,

except a poor little starving

boy who is weak and

hungry like I am.

-Please, you're making me cry.

-Well, how do you like

the quartet outfits?

-Oh, that's very attractive.

-Henry, you look just the

way you did in college, when

you serenaded me under

my dormitory window.

-This time I hope n

one throws water on me.

-Is there anything

we can do to help?

-No, everything is under

control, oh, except Dennis.

-What's with you, son?

-Jeepers.

I'm awful hungry.

Mom says I have to wait

until we get to the picnic.

-Well, your mother's

absolutely right, Dennis.

If you ate now, you would

spoil your appetite.

-You must learn to

control yourself, Dennis,

and not give in

to your cravings.

-Mom, I hate to be a tattletale.

But dad and Mr. Wilson are--

-Help yourself.

I thought you

wanted the gizzard.

-Heck, who wants a tough

old piece like that?

[music playing]

[finding their pitch]

-One, a-two.

-(SINGING) I had a dream, dear.

You had one, too.

Mine was the best dream,

because it was of you.

Come, sweetheart, tell me.

Now is the time.

You tell me--

-Boy, they sure sing

swell, don't they mom?

-Yes, dear.

Sh.

-(SINGING) And

I'll tell you mine.

[howling]

[applause]

[howling]

-Hey, you guys.

You lost your top tenor.

Best voice in the group.

[laughing sarcastically]

-You were wonderful.

-Thank you.

-Boy, you sure sung swell, dad.

I don't care what

Mr. Brady says.

Fremont can't sing as good

as you and Mr. Wilson.

Can he, Tommy?

-Heck, no.

He don't even know the words.

-All right, everybody.

Everybody, attention.

We're going to start the

contest for the kids.

The first event is the

balloon blowing contest.

Come on, boys.

[cheering]

-Come on, fellas.

Let's go.

-Come on.

-Here you are.

Here you are.

Take your balloons.

-You might as well

give up, Dennis.

You haven't got enough wind

to blow up a paper bag.

-Jeepers, nobody's as windy

as you are, Johnny Brady.

-Oh, is that so?

-Yeah, that's so.

-All right.

Knock it off now.

Come on.

Line up over here.

Now you understand the rules.

When I tell you to

go, you start to blow.

You blow as hard as you can,

until I tell you to stop.

And the biggest balloon wins.

If a balloon breaks, you're out.

All ready, set, go.

-Come on.

Come on.

Blow, boy, blow.

[cheering]

-Come on, blow Johnny.

Come on.

Big breaths, boy, big, big.

-Blow, blow, son.

Blow.

-Give it a little more.

Give it a little more, Johnny.

Come on.

Come on.

Come on.

-Aw, for Pete's sake, dad.

Whose side are you on, anyhow?

-Blow, boys, blow.

-Now remember what I told you.

Long jumps.

We gotta win this one, boy.

-OK, I'll win it.

-Don't forget what I told

you about your balance.

-OK, dad.

-All ready, set, go.

[cheering]

-Go, son, go.

-Come on.

What are you waiting for.

Jump!

-I can't.

You're standing on my sack.

-Why don't you stop

helping the boy, Brady,

and give him a

chance to win one?

Go, Dennis, go!

-You better get with it, John.

-Say, that's right, Henry.

It's almost time for our events.

We better loosen up our muscles.

-I'm with you, John.

-Honey, why don't you

skip the tug of w*r?

-Honey, we can skip

any of the events.

Every single point counts.

Even if we only come in second

or third in the tug of w*r,

why, it all adds up

to our final score.

-Well, do your best, then.

-OK.

-Heck, you don't have

to worry about dad, mom.

Him and Mr. Wilson can

b*at anybody, huh, dad?

-We're going to try, son.

-Hey, Mitchell.

They're going to

start the tug of w*r.

Are you coming?

Or are you and your friend

going to be wall flowers?

-We'll be there, Brady.

-You know, I'll be surprised

if you guys can lift the rope.

Come on, Tiny.

-Wow, look at all those muscles.

-Yeah.

He looks like Tarzan.

--[clearing throat]

Come on, Henry.

-And the winners, [inaudible].

All right, next contestants.

-Oh!

-Come on, dad.

Come on, Mr. Wilson.

-Come on, Mr. Mitchell.

-Give it to them, Tiny.

-Dig your heels in good, Henry.

We'll give them all we've got.

-We'll at least give

them a fight, John.

-Ready, set, go.

[cheering]

-Wow, look at your dad run.

-If that had been the

yard dash, dad and Mr. Wilson

would have won by a mile.

[cheering]

MALE SPEAKER

(OFFSCREEN): All right.

Go!

[cheering]

-Boy, they sure are swell

athletes, aren't they mom?

-The best.

-You have lots of

points, haven't you?

-Yes.

Right now it's a tie

between the Mitchell Wilson

team and the Brady Hawkins team.

-The only thing left is

the egg tossing contest.

That ought to be

right up our alley.

-Dad, would you get

this pickle out for me?

-OK.

Stuck.

-Maybe I can reach

my hand in there.

-No, no, no.

I'll get it.

-Dennis, you'll

make yourself sick.

You've already

had enough pickles

to-- what's the matter, dear?

-Nothing.

Nothing at all.

I--

-He can't get his hand out.

-Oh, here.

Let me.

-I feel so silly, John

-Sure is stuck.

Here, I know what to do.

-No!

-No, Tommy, don't.

You'll cut his hand.

-Wilson, Mitchell, we're ready

for the egg throwing contest.

Come on.

Let's go.

-We'll be with you

in a minute, Mitch.

Just give us a minute.

-Pull harder.

-Hey, what's

holding you guys up?

-Just a minute, [inaudible].

-As soon as dad gets his hand

unstuck from the pickle jar.

Show him, dad.

-Hey, how in the heck?

Hey, Tiny, come here.

Get a look at this.

-How are you going

to catch an egg

with your hand in a pickle jar.

-I haven't quite figured

that out yet, Finch.

-We can't wait

all day, Mitchell.

Come on.

Let's get started.

-This event's going

to declare the winner.

What are you going to

do about it, Henry?

-Give us time.

Give us time.

-You guys better default.

-Default?

I can still play.

I, I'll get another partner.

-Oh, no you don't.

No, sir.

Your team is Wilson

and Mitchell.

That's the way it's

listed, right Finch?

-Well, it started that way.

-Yeah, and that's the

way it's got to stay.

If Wilson and Mitchell drop

out, then me and Tiny win.

We're way ahead

of everybody else.

-I feel like such a dunce, John.

-Hey, I know.

I'll be your

partner, Mr. Wilson.

I'm Mitchell, just like dad.

We can be Wilson and Mitchell.

Can't we, Mr. Finch?

-Yeah.

That's the same name, Dennis.

Any objection to that, Brady.

-No.

No, that's OK.

We'll settle for

the little fella.

-All right, Dennis.

I don't know what else I can do.

-Oh boy!

-Oh, no.

Dennis, you stand right there.

-Don't you worry, Mr. Wilson.

I'm a dandy pitcher.

You just stand back.

And I'll peg this

whole thing in--

-No, Dennis.

No, good heavens.

I, I don't want you

to peg it in there.

Give me that.

I'll show you.

Like that.

-You mean you throw

it like a girl?

-Yes.

-All right, boys.

Get ready.

Now you understand

how to do this.

You toss an egg, and step back.

And you toss it

again, and step back.

The team left with

the unbroken egg wins.

All ready, set, go.

[music playing]

-Attaboy, Dennis.

-Good, John.

-You're all thumbs, Wilson.

Look out for this

next one, Wilson.

What's the matter

with you, clumsy?

-Well, did you break

something, Brady?

[laughing]

-That's it, folks.

The winners--

Wilson and Mitchell.

[cheering]

-That concludes

the spots, folks.

And the winning team for the

day is Wilson and Mitchell.

Let's all of us give

them a big hand.

[cheering]

-You sure are a good

egg catcher, Mr. Wilson.

-You're the one who

did it, partner.

-Were you a team, Dennis.

[chattering]

-Oh, Dennis, I'm proud of you

catching the egg that way.

-Oh, mom, it was nothing.

But it sure is a good thing we

used a hard boiled egg, though.

Or I bet our would

have broken, too.

-Oh no.

Dennis, is that the

egg we won with?

-Sure, Mr. Wilson.

I got it out of our egg bowl.

-Oh, this is terrible.

-After the razzing we

gave Brady, oh boy.

-Is something the matter?

-Well, yes, son.

You're not supposed to

use a hard boiled egg.

-Jeepers, dad.

They're the best kind.

They don't break.

-He didn't know the rules, dear.

Nobody told him.

-What are you going to do, John.

There's only one thing to do.

We didn't win the

contest fairly.

So we'll have to tell Brady.

-You're right, John.

-Do you mean we lost?

-Yes, Dennis.

We lost.

You're not supposed to

use a hard boiled egg.

We brought eggs for the

contest, fresh ones.

Come on, Dennis.

Uh, uh, Brady?

-Yeah?

-I, well, I want

everyone to hear this.

It's about the egg

throwing contest.

-What about it?

You won.

What do you want?

A medal?

-No.

No.

As a matter of fact,

Dennis and I didn't win.

You see, Dennis

didn't know the rules.

So he brought along a hard

boiled egg for us to throw.

-A hard boiled egg?

Well, no wonder it didn't break.

-So you and your partner

are the winners, Brady.

And I apologize.

-Yeah, but we busted our egg.

-We used the wrong kind.

Well, I guess we sot of

tied for first place.

-Well, I'll be darned.

Wilson, you're not

such a bad guy at that.

A real honest man.

Put her there.

-Oh, great Cesar.

-See, Mr. Wilson.

I told you a hard

boiled egg was better.

[theme music]