02x04 - Alvin Brickrock Presents

[bunniefuu]

What a gloomy place this is.

Your suspicions were correct, Fred.

There she is. Agatha Brickrock with her outside removed.

[Fred] That's not Agatha. That's a mastodon.

[Barney] A whatsodon?

A big thing with a lumpy body, thick legs, a long nose, flappy ears, and tusks.

Sounds like Agatha to me.

[Horn honking]

[theme music playing]

[whistle chirps]

[siren wailing]

[whistle chirps]

[Wilma] One club.

[Barney] Two hearts. [Betty] Three clubs.

[Wilma] Fred, it's your bid.

[Fred] I know, I'm trying to figure out something.

Barney, what would you do if you were holding the queen alone?

I don't know, Fred.

It all depends on what time the king is expected home.

Heh-heh-heh!

[Fred mockingly] Heh-heh-heh!

[knocking]

[Wilma] You're the dummy, Fred. Can you get it?

[knocking continues]

All right. All right. I'm coming.

Oh. Hi, Arnold. Collect for the paper, Mr. Flintstone.

How much? I.75.

1 .75! Only four weeks' newspapers.

Four weeks' newspapers and a month's rental on my comics.

Perry Gunite and the Bald Blond Caper and I was a Member of the Mafia for the FBI, and I was a Member of the FBI for the Mafia, and Peter Masonite and the Permanent-Wave Murders.

I don't remember that one.

Oh, sure. The k*ller throws his victims in a vat of permanent wave lotion and they get curled to death.

Oh, yeah. Yeah. He buries them in snail shells. Yeah. Go on.

And you're 26 cents overdue for my Little Golden Treasury of Children's m*rder Mysteries.

Well, I'm not finished with that yet.

Here's your money, Arnold. Thanks.

Can I ask you a question, Mr. Flintstone? Yeah.

How did a nice adult like you get hooked on such trash?

Hm. Smart-aleck kid.

Well, the girls won that hand too, and the game, and the rubber.

You men wanna play another game? Uh...

Say, Fred, ain't it time for the big fight?

Hey! I'm glad you remembered.

You fix the chairs. I'll get the soda and the popcorn.

I didn't know there was a fight scheduled.

Are you kidding? Tonight's for the championship.

Oh. It should be a real grudge bout. Heavyweight or lightweight?

Both. A heavyweight versus a lightweight.

Why are you putting the chairs over there by the window?

The TV set is here.

This is not on TV. It's a closed circuit.

[Betty] But who's fighting?

The new neighbors, Mrs. and Mr. Brickrock.

Fred, you don't intend to eavespeep.

Ho-ho-ho! I wouldn't miss tonight's bout for anything.

Those two have been putting on the greatest fight of the century.

Last night's bout was a doozy.

Did you ever hear such hysterics?

All that screaming and shrieking in that high voice.

Yeah. I thought he'd never stop.

Oh, that's terrible. You mean that meek little man hits his wife?

No. In the last three bouts, he didn't even lay a glove on her.

He's strictly a defensive fighter.

You'd think she'd let him win once in a while just to keep up his interest.

It's funny how little you know about your neighbors, what really goes on behind closed doors.

Hm. We don't even know what business he's in.

They've been living in that big, old, gloomy house for a whole week.

You never see that Brickrock guy going to work.

Do you suppose he's retired? Uh, no, Fred. The lights are still on.

No. I mean, what kind of work is he out of?

Well, uh, did you see some of those spooky crates and boxes?

What do you mean spooky? What's so spooky about crates and boxes?

Shaped like coffins.

[laughing hysterically]

Ooh. Ooh. Hey, here's some action.

Well, If they ain't unconsiderate after keeping us waiting all this time.

You scrape the dishes. I'll wash them.

I can't imagine what a nice little man like him ever saw in a big bully like her.

For those who can't brush after every meal.

Maybe it was love at first fight.

[both giggling]

Oh! Hello, boxing fans. Main event over?

All quiet on the western front? Too quiet. I don't like it.

Maybe they kissed and made up.

I hope he's not that punchy.

We ought to invite the Brickrocks over some night, get to know them.

They're awful standoffish. I don't think they would come over.

[knocking on door]

I'll get it.

Something bothers me about Brickrock. I swear I've met him some place before.

Good evening.

Mr. Flintstone, I presume.

Oh, hi. We were just talking about you, neighbor.

Looks like you got hit with a guided muscle.

I bet I ought to see the other guy, eh?

Oh, this. I cut myself shaving.

Sure. Sure. Well, what can I do for you?

Do you have a spade?

A spade? You should have been here a half hour ago I was holding seven spades. [laughs]

Seven spades. You get it? We were playing bridge. [laughing]

Nevertheless, I wonder if I might borrow a shovel.

Of course. I'll get it.

Why, Mr. Brickrock, how nice.

Are, uh, you folks all settled in your new home?

I'm afraid it's unsettled, Mrs. Flintstone.

I've been transferred to another territory.

Moving again?

Aw, what a shame. You've only been here a little while.

Uh, do you know the Rubbles?

Uh, we've never met, but I've admired your footwork many times.

[stammering] Uh...

We've been trying to drop in on your wife.

Now it looks like we'll just have to meet her to say goodbye.

I'm afraid that won't be possible.

I had to send Agatha off ahead of me.

She didn't like the idea of leaving.

She fights moving.

I'll say.

Funny how a large woman like that can break down, go all to pieces.

Now I have to do all her packing myself.

It will take me a week to clean up everything.

Need any help? No.

In my line of work, I've become quite efficient at it.

Here you are, Alvy, one shovel to go.

Sorry you have to be shoveling off so soon.

[laughing]

That's calling a spade a spade.

[laughing louder]

Yes. Well, thank you.

And good evening.

Poor little man. I feel sorry for him.

[Wilma] Fred, when are you going to turn off the light and go to sleep?

[Fred] Soon as I finish this Weird Detective magazine.

Weird Detective? Why do you read that old junk?

Junk? For your information, there's a lot of money in this old junk.

How about this?

"Attention, all red-blooded citizens with suspicious natures."

Nation crime rate up.

Big increase in murders, muggings, and parking violations.

Get in on it.

Earn big money as a Pincus-Stone detective.

Our operators are wanted by police departments everywhere.

Mail coupon today and receive diploma entitling you to pry into other people's business.

Stool pigeons collect huge rewards for their patriotic service.

"Why not you?"

How about that, Wilma?

[yawning] I still think it's junk.

Yeah. Get a load of some of these true criminal confessions.

"'I called Machine g*n McGerk a jerk' by the late Swiss Cheese Charlie Slate."

Oh, here's a great one. Oh, brother.

"He was a midget in the big house, see, and he tried to escape by wiggling through a mouse hole after lights out.

But he outsmarted himself, see?

Because it wasn't a mouse hole he screwed himself into. It was a light socket.

"Someone turned the lights on, and..."

Wilma? Wilma?

[snoring]

[yawns]

Hm. Here's the crook of the month.

"15,000 reward for information leading to apprehension of Albert Bonehart.

Wanted for questioning in disappearance of three former wives, Bonehart's fourth wife was last seen in a little railroad station

"in a valise, a ladies hatbox, and an executive's briefcase."

Well, that's one way to send your wife to the country.

"Description, Bonehart is 5'10", has wavy hair, a natty mustache, and walks with a limp, due to an impediment, Bonehart speaks with a slight British accent, and has difficulty pronouncing 'good evening'.

"Approach with caution."

No one I know. Oh, well.

Good night, Wilma. Good night, Fred.

[yawns]

Good evening! What?

Good evening. Good evening.

I said good night, Fred.

I mean, Alvin Brickrock. He said good night to you too.

But, uh... [stammering] he borrowed my shovel.

Really, Fred. He's only had the shovel 45 minutes.

You're not gonna start nagging him already.

Be right back, Wilma.

[whispering] Psst! Barney. Barney!

Hey, Fred, what are you doing in the middle of my begonias in the middle of the night?

Here. Here, read this. Uh...

"$15,000 reward... [mumbling]"

Albert Bonehart...

Wavy hair...

Mustache...

"Limp, accent. Good evening. Caution."

Yeah. Well, thanks a lot for letting me read your magazine, Fred.

I guess you can return it to Arnold, the newsboy, and I'll see you tomorrow.

Barney, don't you get it?

Uh, no, I take The Wall Street Journal.

Boy, when they were dishing out the brains you must've been standing there with a thimble.

Don't you see?

Our neighbor, Alvin Brickrock, he borrowed my shovel.

He could be a vicious monster, a diabolical fiend!

Oh, now, Fred.

You haven't returned my lawn mower, and I don't feel that way about you.

Here, read this again, will you?

[Barney mumbling] [Fred] Skip the "zabba, zabba, zabba."

Get down to the description of Albert Bonehart.

It's Alvin Brickrock.

"5'10", wavy hair, mustache."

Alvin is clean-shaven and bald.

It's just a disguise he puts on. It's him, all right.

Remember what he said?

Uh, let's see. Uh...

"I had to send Agatha off. She didn't like the idea.

Funny how a large woman can break down into little pieces.

I'll have to do her packing myself.

Take a week to clean up. Thank you for the shovel."

Shovel? And the rope and the axe.

Fred, you mean he... [stammering] I mean, he... [stammering] Let's go see!

But Fred, the k*ller has a limp. Alvy doesn't have a limp.

Of course not, stupid. He walks without a limp to fool us!

And Bonehart is 5'10 ". Alvin's only 4'10".

We are dealing with a very clever man, and we got to ask ourselves, if we did away with our wives, what's the first thing we'd do?

Well, the first thing I'd do would be put an ad in the paper, "I am no longer responsible for my wife's debts."

[chuckles]

He must have her hidden inside the house some place.

Here, Barney, I'll give you a boost up this back window. [grunts]

Wowwy, wow!

What a gloomy place this is. [gulps]

Your suspicions were correct, Fred.

There she is. Agatha Brickrock with her outside removed.

[Fred] That's not Agatha. That's a mastodon.

[Barney] A whatsodon?

A big thing with a lumpy body, thick legs, a long nose, flappy ears, and tusks.

Sounds like Agatha to me.

This thing has been dead for a million years.

Look what I found. What is it?

Well, I don't think it's a phone booth.

It's not a phone booth. We found Agatha.

Ha-ha-ha. Good. Good. I'll go down to the corner and get the cop while you stay here and keep an eye on her.

Uh, wait a minute. Why me?

All right, then.

You stay here and keep an eye on her while I go get the cop.

That's better. Hey!

[whistling]

[creaking]

Uh, Mr. Brickrock, what are you doing in your living room?

It was I who was about to ask you.

Huh? Oh, well, uh...

Fred and I were in the neighborhood, so, uh, we thought we'd drop in, but you were out, so he went out to look for...

Hello there, Freddie. Shh. Not so loud. I...

[laughs nervously]

Hi there. I just came over to tell you I don't need the shovel for a while, if you want to keep using it, you know.

May I show you my workshop? We've seen it.

Any questions?

Yeah, I got one. Yes?

What are you, some kind of screwball or something?

I don't understand.

I mean, this whole setup, and that phony name, Alvin Brickrock.

You know your real name is Arche Oogly.

Arche Oogly? [Barney] Precisely.

Right here on this book. Here, take a look.

[Brickrock] My dear chap, that's pronounced "archeology" and I'm an archeologist.

You see, Fred? He admits it. Of course, I admit it.

An archeologist is a man who tries to bring the past back to life.

Someone who's concerned with what lies below the surface.

A man who digs.

We're hip to you.

This happens to be a great neighborhood for bones.

May I show you a few things I've uncovered recently?

This lady, for instance. [Fred] Eeesh...

[Barney] I think we've met.

[Brickrock] This is my mummy. She's 2,000 years old.

Well, how do you do, ma'am? Uh, happy birthday.

Speaking of old fossils, Alvy, what do you hear from your wife?

[Brickrock] Nothing lately.

Oh! I must give you a peek at something special, something everyone thinks has disappeared.

Can you keep a secret? We have so far.

Eddyfray, when's the opcays omingcay?

I couldn't indfay an opcay, Arneybay. Oy vay.

And now, gentlemen, something that, by rights, should have been dead long, long ago. Look.

[Barney] Hey. Uh, what is it, Fred? I don't know.

Is it bigger than a breadbox?

Yeah. About the size of a large birdcage.

[Brickrock] It is a birdcage.

[Barney] Why would you keep a fishy in a birdcage?

[Brickrock] Because it's a flying fishy.

The world's rarest fishy.

The legendary man-eating piranhakeet.

[chirping]

[screeches]

That's cute.

Is this piranhakeet, uh, finger-trained?

[Brickrock] Look out.

Fingers, toes, whatever it can get its teeth into.

It's the only flying man-eater in the world and the other scientists think it's extinct.

Extinct. But I know better.

The whole thing smells a little fishy to me.

I think that piranhakeet is just a red herring to throw us off the scent.

Hey, Barn, I don't want Wilma to know what we suspect about Agatha.

She even gets faint when she fixes cold cuts.

[Wilma] Hi, Fred, Barney.

Oh, Hi, Wilma. [Barney] Hi.

I'm going over to Betty's.

So when the Expressmen come, give them Alvin's trunk.

He left it here for them to pick up after he leaves.

Huh? Oh. Oh, sure, sure.

The address and all the information is right on it.

Bye. [Fred] Bye, dear.

[stammering] Barney! Barney, read what that says.

[Barney] "This end up."

[Fred] No, no. Those initials.

"A. B."

[Barney] A. B.? Yeah. Alvin Brickrock.

Or Albert Bonehart. [Barney] Alias Bluebeard.

Or Agatha Brickrock, Barney.

As public-spirited citizens, we got to open the trunk produce the evidence, and collect the reward.

Right. Hey, uh, let's get a sledgehammer and bust it open.

Use your head. Use your own head.

Mrs. Brickrock? Mrs. Brickrock?

Did you hear a knock? Yeah.

Will you cut that out? I thought she was knocking.

[Car brakes screech]

It's Wilma! Now look, Barney, I don't want her to know.

She gets panicky in these emergencies.

So don't let the cat out of the bag.

Barney, what are you looking so suspicious for?

Oh, I don't know, Wilma.

What makes you think there's a body in this trunk?

What an imagination.

Why can't you keep your big mouth shut?

She cornered me with a tricky question.

You know, Fred, there's no sense in opening this trunk.

Did you ever get a look at Mrs. Brickrock in the flesh?

[Fred] Sure. It was a lot of flesh.

She was a big, fat mastodon like you and you'd never get that much lard in such a small container.

Yeah? Well, that trunk in the bedroom is the same size as this one.

And on our honeymoon, I hid inside it to surprise Wilma.

[Barney] Eh.

I'll prove it to you. Help me drag it out.

There. I was right. Same size.

You must have been more petite in the old days.

I think you take a size 48-long trunk now.

All right, all right, I'll show you that Mrs. Brickrock could be in that trunk.

[grunts] Close me up.

[Barney] There's still a lot of fallout in the fringe area.

[Fred screams] Ouch!

Hey, Fred, we're in trouble. I don't have the keys.

[Fred mumbling indistinctly]

What's that, Fred? You've got them?

Phew! I was worried. I thought I'd lost them.

[Fred yelling indistinctly]

Now don't get panicky, Fred.

Because when you get panicky, you use up oxygen, and you've only got enough in there for about 30 seconds.

So keep smiling and I'll be back in a minute or so.

It's nothing to get upset about, Wilma.

But you know that old trunk Fred had? Yes.

Well, it has Fred now.

What's Fred doing in the trunk? To tell the truth, he's suffocating.

[Wilma] Barney, where are the keys? Fred's got them.

He was reconstructing your honeymoon.

I'll try a hairpin.

It worked the time Fred got locked in the bathroom.

Well, Houdini, care to explain that little trick?

I'll, uh, break it to you easy, Wilma.

[Fred groans]

This other trunk contains the missing Agatha Brickrock.

You thought Mrs. Brickrock was in that trunk and you were trying to prove it by getting into our trunk?

[laughing]

And you think little Alvin got rid of his wife?

[Fred] You haven't seen her around, have you?

And his real name is Albert Bonehart.

So?

So Albert Bonehart is the famous wife-k*ller.

Here, there's a picture of him in the magazine.

[Wilma] This man has wavy hair and a mustache.

[Barney] A mere disguise.

He doesn't walk with a limp at all, and he photographs taller.

[laughing]

A good psychiatrist wouldn't touch you boys with a 10-foot couch.

Wait till I tell Betty that you thought that that mild little man... Ha-ha-ha!

[Fred mockingly] Ha-ha-ha!

All right, Mrs. Fred Flintstone of 39 Stone Canyon Way, you asked for it!

[Brickrock] Good evening.

Am I interrupting a family discussion?

[Wilma] Not at all, Mr. Brickrock.

I came to return your shovel.

Oh, is that trunk still here?

I was hoping to get rid of it.

I wish it were possible to just push it into the ocean and forget about it.

See, smarty? Tell her what's inside. We already guessed.

I knew it would come out eventually.

That trunk is Agatha's.

It's for her body.

Mr. Brickrock, no. I'm afraid so.

I'll show you. It's open. The lock has never worked.

You see, dear Agatha is a bug on physical culture.

This is her bodybuilding equipment, barbells, weights, dumbbells.

She wouldn't feel secure in New Rock City without them.

Those aren't the only dumbbells around here, Mr. Brickrock.

How do we know Agatha's really in New Rock City?

Which reminds me of my other motive for stopping by.

May I use your phone to call Agatha?

Mine's been disconnected.

[Wilma] Of course. Right over here, Alvin.

Watch him, Fred. I think he's trying to build an alibi and run up your phone bill.

Yeah. Hey, reverse charges on that alibi!

Certainly.

Hello, pussycat. [Agatha chatters angrily]

But, pussycat, I am sending the trunk with your weights and barbells.

[angry chatter continues]

I know you're out of shape.

I didn't mean it that way, pussycat. [chattering continues]

Of course, you need a workout.

I'll try to be there as soon as I can.

Well, investigators, any questions?

Mrs. Brickrock sounds alive and kicking.

She sure does.

Hey, uh, you want to mark the case closed, Fred?

Can you imagine, Barney, you suspecting a little mouse like that of getting rid of his pussycat?

[laughing]

Your suspicions are correct.

The story had a happy ending.

Science was indeed astounded by my discovery of a living man-eater which can be trained to eat wives, too, if necessary.

Chirp for the people.

[chirping]

[screeches]

Please forgive its toothy grin.

It acts just like a canary that ate the pussycat.

Good evening.

[theme music playing]

[yawns]

Wilma!

Wilma!

Come on, Wilma, open the door!

Wilma!