01x18 - Farewell, Mr. Dibble

[bunniefuu]

Dibble must really be in
trouble. They sent another
cop to arrest him.

Well, good afternoon,
Officer Dibble.

I, uh, don't believe
we've met, sir...

...but I've admired your work
on television, Mr. Ness.

Oh, I'm sorry.

That same strong,
determined look fooled me.

This is Officer Prowler, T.C.

He's gonna be working
with me for a while.

Wonderful. Wonderful. I always
say, "Two flatfeet are better
than one."

[LAUGHS]

Good day, gentlemen.
And you too, Officer Dibble.

Top Cat ♪

The most effectual Top Cat ♪

Who's intellectual close
friends get to call him T.C

Providing it's with dignity

Top cat

The undisputable
leader of the g*ng

He's the boss he's a pip
he's the championship

He's the most tip top

Top cat

Yes he's a chief, he's a king
But above everything

He's the most tip top

Top cat

Top cat

DIBBLE:
#This is the city.

#And this is the toughest
beat in it.

#My beat.

#Certain characters in this area
keep me going, night and day.

[THUD]

#It gets even worse in summer
when they try keeping cool.

That's all for you, Spook.

DIBBLE:
#A lot of nutty stuff
keeps happening.

#Things you wouldn't believe.
Things that ain't covered in law
books.

#So I gotta handle it
in my own way...

#...as I see fit.

Knock it off, Top Cat.

DIBBLE:
#I got a regular system.

#It ain't very scientific,
but it works.

#And this is the story
of what happens...

#...when this delicate
system is upset.

#It all began one hot day
at the precinct headquarters.

Well, Patrolman Prowler...

...your marks at the police
academy are quite impressive.

-Thank you, sir.
-Itching to get to work, huh?

Yes, sir. Immediately,
if possible.

-May I ask the sergeant a favor,
sir?
SERGEANT: Well?

If it isn't asking
too much, sir...

...I'd like to be assigned
a real problem district, like
Precinct 13.

Now, let's see. That's, uh,
Officer Dibble's beat.

Well, that's not
a problem district.

Officer Dibble gives out
very few summonses.

That's just it, sir.
It's quiet, too quiet.

-I don't like it. Maybe..
SERGEANT: Yes?

Well, I hate to say anything
against a fellow officer...

...but maybe Dibble
is off the ball.

SERGEANT: Well, I suppose a
little laxity sets in over the
years.

I've heard rumors about a
character called Top Cat...

...he lets get out of hand
once in a while.

But essentially,
Dibble is a fair man.

PROWLER:
You mean soft, sir?

Hmm. Maybe it would be good
to break you in with Dibble.

You could keep an eye out
for each other.

Yes, sir.
Thanking the sergeant, sir.

Come, come. You don't have to
stand on ceremony, Ernest.

Thanks a lot, Uncle Eugene.

Ha, ha. I'll just alert Dibble
we're coming down.

[PHONE RINGING]

[YAWNS]

Hello? Officer Dibble's call
box. Officer Dibble is out.

[MURMURING OVER PHONE]

Well, if it's really important,
you can reach him...

...in the cold room
of Schultz's Delicatessen.

That's where he usually hangs
out on hot days like this.

Sitting on a cake of ice,
resting his feet,
of course. Any messages?

[YELLING OVER PHONE]

Well, I don't think I can
remember all that, sergeant.

Maybe you'd better tell him
yourself. He's already mad at
me.

No, you don't know me.

No, just a passing stranger.
Bye.

Gee, sounds like the sergeant's
off his feed.

I wonder what Dibble did.

Oh, well, that's his problem.
It's too hot to worry about
anything.

Hi, Top Cat. Hot enough for you?

Yeah, Choo-Choo.
You seen the rest of the guys?

Fancy was going to the beach
at Coney Island to see the cool
cats keep cool.

Mm, that figures. And the Brain?

The Brain was standing by
a revolving door at the
department store.

-Smart, smart. How about Spook?
SPOOK: Like, uh, here, T.C.

Man, ain't this heat a gas?

TOP CAT: Where were you?
-I was making the public-library
scene.

You were reading a book?

Well, like, I was faking it.

But this book is so far-out,
I got hooked. What a crazy,
mixed-up story.

-What was it about, Spook?
-Well, it starts out about an
aardvark...

...and ends up with everybody
playing the xylophone.

What's it called?

#Under a Bridge with d*ck and
Harry.

#Under a Bridge with d*ck and
Harry?# Let me see that.

That's #Unabridged Dictionary#.

What's the matter with you?
It's nothing but words.

Oh, I thought it was
kind of freeform.

Yeah, speaking of freeform,
has anyone seen the Lump today?

BRAIN:
Uh, you mean Benny the Ball?

Oh, hi, Brain. Yeah, Benny.

Uh, hi, Top Cat. You want a
quart of pistachio ice cream?

Pistachio ice cream? Sure.

Yeah, so do I.
How do you figure we'll get it?

TOP CAT:
Will you stop that?

What are you getting my appetite
all worked up for?

I figured you had
some plan in mind...

...to get Benny's dollar
away from him.

-Benny has a dollar?
BRAIN: Yep.

-And where is the generous lad?
BENNY: You looking for me, Top
Cat?

Benjamin, my boy,
we were just deciding...

...what flavor ice cream you
were gonna buy for us with your
dollar.

-You still have a dollar, don't
you?
-Sorry, T.C.

I bought a pocket air
conditioner with it from a very
nice man in a checkered suit.

Oh, I'm almost afraid to ask...

...but, uh, did this gentleman
carry his samples in a valise?

And was his store on the corner
of Broadway and 51st on the
sidewalk?

-That's him.
-Oh, no.

And this is the air
conditioner, huh?

Revolutionary, compact,
requires no electricity?

-This is it.
-Oh, boy.

SPOOK:
Like, what's the gimmick,
Top Cat?

Benny is the last of the
all-day suckers, that's what.

He has just been baited,
bagged, buncoed...

...conned, heisted and
flimflammed.

But it was so hot, I thought we
could all benefit from an air
conditioner.

Don't worry, the pistachio
is not all lost yet.

There must be
other nuts like you.

All right, ladies and gentlemen,
come in a little closer while
I--

-I'll take two.
-Not yet. Not yet.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen.
The Little Giant Pocket Air
Conditioner.

Six inches long,
only half an inch deep...

...and yet, capable of turning
the warmest summer day...

...into an arctic autumn. Step
closer, sir. You're blocking
traffic.

All possible through the
miracle of miniaturization.

The same miniaturization...

...developed by Cape Canaveral
scientists for space capsules.

-Now?
TOP CAT: Now.

-I'll take two.
-I'm sorry, sir. I've already
sold you one.

And I am forbidden
by fair-trade practices...

...to sell more than one
to a customer.

MAN: Air conditioner, you say?
-Exactly, sir.

-No moving parts?
-Completely anti-electronic.

And something in this small box
can keep you cool?

Caution. Use only as directed.

Overindulgence may become
habit-forming and lead to
frostbite.

-Uh, how much is it?
-As a special advertising
promotion...

...we are introducing
the Little Giant Pocket Air
Conditioner...

...for not $1, not 75 cents,
not even a quarter...

...but one thin $5 bill.

MAN:
Five dollars?!

That's for the special,
embossed-leather executive
model.

A genuine-imitation
finish costs $4 less.

-A dollar? All right, here.
-Thank you, sir.

BRAIN:
Uh, you're wanted in surgery.

Aunt Agatha is sinking fast
and calling for you.

I'm sorry, sir. I must
run to her side.

But full directions
are included.

If you are not
completely satisfied...

...all your hot air
will be cheerfully refunded.

Ah, here are the directions.

"Hold Little Giant Air
Conditioner at point A...

...spreading refrigerant fins,
point B, in clockwise direction.

Hold mechanism in front of face
and start cooling process...

...by waving gently in
north-south direction,
repeating:

'Out goes the bad air,
in goes the good air.

Out goes the bad air,
in goes the good--'"

If I wasn't the beloved
mayor of this town...

...I'd swear I'd been baited,
bagged, buncoed, conned, heisted
and flimflammed!

Yes, sir. Nothing lowers the
temperature on a hot summer
day...

...like a nice quart
of pistachio ice cream.

Thanks a lot, Benny.

BRAIN AND CHOO-CHOO:
Yeah, thanks.

BENNY: How was it, fellas?
-Like, cool, man.

Delicious. A very
good year for pistachio.

Save a bite for me, T.C.

TOP CAT:
Well, well, well.

If it isn't the man with the
golden charm, Fancy-Fancy.

And how did you find the island
girls at Coney, Casanova?

Oh, I met a couple of old
friends. Jackie and Terry and
Pam and Jeannie...

...and Goldie and Arlene
and Shirley.

Most wolves have little black
books, but you have the whole
yellow pages.

DIBBLE:
All right, boys. Break it up.

Move along now,
before I run you all in.

Well, Officer Dibble.

How are things in Schultz's cold
room? Is that leg of lamb still
swinging there?

Now, how did you know
I was in the meat freezer?

TOP CAT: Well, first of all,
your badge is covered with
frost...

...and the seat of your pants
says, "U.S. government-inspected
beef."

I'm just fooling, Dibble.

T.C., if it wasn't so far to the
station, I'd take you all in and
book you.

Come on, have a heart, Dibble.
It's too warm for a chase.

Warm? You mean hot.

Schultz had to take the tongues
out of his window.

They were panting, yeah.
I'll tell you what, Dib.

Why don't you come down
to the shady part of the
alley...

...loosen your collar, relax,
and we'll open a few hydrants.

I don't know who the joker on
the phone was...

...but I think he was
pulling my leg.

Dibble never leaves his beat.

That's one of the reasons
people in his precinct respect
him.

He wears the uniform
with dignity.

BRAIN:
Yippee! Like, hit me again, T.C.

BENNY:
Ohh! That's wonderful.

[BENNY GIGGLING]

[SIGHING]

So Dibble's a little
sentimental.

You mean weak, Uncle Eugene?

He's mature. It wouldn't hurt
you to pattern yourself
after him.

Look at the nice, quiet,
law-abiding neighborhood
he runs here.

Dibble!

[SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY
OVER PHONE]

Yes, sir, lieutenant.
Out of uniform. Wading in the
gutter.

I was thinking
of maybe double-teaming him...

...with a brighter, more
aggressive partner for a while
till Dibble snaps.

I mean, uh, snaps back. Ha, ha.

Oh, no one in particular.

The police academy sent me
Ernest Growler, or, uh, Fowler,
uh..

I can't recall his exact name,
but he sounds like a world
beater.

Well, if you say so, sir,
I'll give him a try.

Thanks for the idea,
lieutenant. Bye.

[HANGS UP PHONE]

[LAUGHING]

Hey, Top Cat.

Dibble must really be in
trouble. They sent another cop
to arrest him.

Well, good afternoon,
Officer Dibble.

I, uh, don't believe
we've met, sir...

...but I've admired your work
on television, Mr. Ness.

Oh, I'm sorry.

That same strong, determined
look fooled me.

This is Officer Prowler, T.C.

He's gonna be working with me
for a while.

Wonderful. Wonderful. I always
say, "Two flatfeet are better
than one."

[LAUGHS]

Well, if you need any
assistance, officer,
you'll find me right here.

Good day, gentlemen.
And you too, Officer Dibble.

What's he up to?

Everything. T.C.'s quite an
operator.

Is he a troublemaker?

No, I wouldn't say that.
But underneath that tinhorn
exterior...

...T.C. really has a heart of
gold. Gold brick.

Yeah, this is a fine beat, son.
Nice people.

Now, take Mrs. Murgatroyd.

PROWLER: The old biddy
crossing against the light?

[BRAKES SCREECH
AND HORN HONKS]

DIBBLE:
Well, she's 72 and colorblind.

Now, here is Tobias Timken's
tailor shop.

I know the one.
Violating City Ordinance 1204.

DIBBLE:
What's 1204?

"No portion of an awning shall
project in such a manner...

...as to obscure vision
and endanger the public life or
limb."

And another thing, how long has
that sign been there?

Oh, that? Heh.
That's a local joke.

Tobias has been having
that one-day-only sale...

...for seven years
running. Ha-ha.

That sign will have to go too.

City Ordinance 713...

...prohibits the posting of any
signs misleading to the public.

Ah, no one takes Tobias' sign
seriously.

Folks know his suits are always
marked 10 percent higher than he
sells them for.

-Ha, ha.
-Mislabeling. Another
misdemeanor.

Hey, wait a minute.

Tobias is a sweet little man.

He gave old Mrs. Murgatroyd
a part-time job...

...so she can make
both ends meet.

-Oh, really?
-Sure.

Of course, she's on a pension
from the city, but you know what
that pays.

So she sews buttonholes for him
in her spare time.

Does Timken have a permit
to run a sweatshop?

DIBBLE: Uh, Mrs. Murgatroyd
works at home in her flat.

Do I assume her apartment
building is zoned for commercial
enterprise?

-No, but who cares?
-I guess you're right.

We've already got her for
jaywalking, obtaing relief
under false pretense...

...violation of the Garment
Workers'
Union closed-shop clause...

...and moonlighting.

-Anything else?
-Ha, ha. You're kidding.

How about this?
Obstructing a public walkway...

...unsanitary food storage...

...unmarked retail prices
as required by law.

Hey, what's the matter with you?
This is a nice neighborhood.

Believe me, uncle.
It's a hotbed of crime.

Why, there's enough daily
violations to keep a whole
flying squad busy.

-Does, uh, Dibble know about it?
-He encourages it.

[PHONE RINGS]

Headquarters. Sergeant speaking.

Yes, lieutenant.

No, I haven't heard
from the mayor yet.

He was what?

Baited, bagged, buncoed,
conned, heisted and flimflammed?

Precinct 13?
Well, that's Dibble's district.

Yes, sir. We'll clean it up
right away.

No, I don't think
we have to put more men on, sir.

The solution might be
to take one man off.

Yes, sir.

FANCY:
Hey, what's up, T.C.?

Yeah. How come you're flying
the distress signal?

Because I've got distressing
news.
Officer Dibble is leaving.

BRAIN: What?
-That's right and it's all our
fault.

How did I know that mark who
bought the air conditioner was
the mayor?

Anyway, Dibble's leaving.

[g*ng CHEERS]

Hold it. Hold it. Hold it.
Are you guys kooky?

Ten minutes after Dibble leaves,
this alley becomes a disaster
area.

-How do you figure that, T.C.?
-Because they're replacing
Dibble...

...with that snake-eyed
little backbiter, Prowler.

Like, uh,
what can we do about it, T.C.?

We're gonna have to move fast,
men. We'll call this Operation
Eager Beaver.

Brain, you go down to the city
dump and get an old mailbox.

Fancy, you scrounge up
some white paint.

Spook, see if you can
get Dibble's summons book...

...and his tickets
to the Policemen's Ball.

Choo-Choo, find out where the
lieutenant parks his car for
lunch.

That's just the right-sized
mailbox I wanted, Brain.

Now just put it over there.

Uh, right, T.C. But I still
don't get it.

Fancy, don't slop
the paint so much.

That's it. Now, curve
into that side street.

This is the job for me, T.C.
I'm an expert on curves.

TOP CAT: Spook, how you doing
with the summons book...

...and the tickets
to the Policemen's Ball?

I've, like, uh, found a gold
mine, T.C.

-I'm on the last page now.
-Fine. Fine.

Brain, the wanted-poster
gimmick up yet?

Yeah, just about, T.C.

But I hate to do this
to Cha-Cha Charlie.

I think he's better-looking
than the mayor.

If this doesn't confuse things,
nothing will.

Wonderful. Wonderful.

Hey, Chooch, do you need any
help
with the lieutenant's car?

CHOO-CHOO: Now you ask? I've had
to push this thing a whole
block.

This city should have more
fireplugs.

I'll, uh, speak to
the mayor about it.

Okay, fellas.
The booby trap's all set.

All we have to do now
is wait for him to blow up.

Well, good morning,
Officer Prowler.

I've been phone-sitting for you.
No messages.

Leave my phone alone. Or do you
want a ticket for loitering?

Oh, no, officer.

Besides, you must be tired
of writing tickets now.

[PHONE RINGS]

Hello, uncle-- Er, sergeant.
Prowler here.

[MURMURING OVER PHONE]

What do you mean
the lieutenant's upset?

Well, of course
I handed out some summonses.

That's my job, isn't it?

Excessive?

What's excessive about a couple
of books of tickets?

All right, split a few hairs.
Fifty-seven summonses.

Well, I wanted to establish some
respect for the law around here.

[CAR HORNS HONKING]

Well, it worked. This beat's
never been so peaceful.

[HORNS HONKS LOUDER]

What? I can't hear you.
Somebody's blowing their horn.

All right, no more summonses.

They're paging you, sir.

Listen, Ernest. I'll buy the
fact that 45 cars...

...all decided to go down
a one-way street...

...the wrong way at the same
time...

...and even that the eastbound
traffic
was detoured into a dead end...

...but what in
J. Edgar Hoover's name...

...was New Jersey State Highway
Number 9 doing in Rockefeller
Center?

Look at it this way, Officer
Prowler.

It's a matter of principle,
you know what I mean?

On the other hand,
if you were the lieutenant...

...you wouldn't want anybody
to put a ticket on your car
either.

I haven't the faintest idea
what you're talking about.

I'm saying that when
you get to be lieutenant...

...you can park your car
in front of a fire hydrant...

...like the lieutenant is
down on 48th Street and 7th
Avenue.

And you can tell a rookie cop
not to do his sworn duty too.

He wouldn't do that,
not in my precinct.

Wanna bet?

It's the lieutenant's car, all
right. But I'm not buying this
setup so quickly.

How come you told me about it?

Well, I like to see
an ambitious officer get a
break.

Oh, I get the picture. The old
fake-fire-hydrant bit, huh?

Oh, believe me, sir.
The hydrant is not fake.

Oh, no? Well, just watch this.

I don't blame you for writing
that ticket, officer.

If the lieutenant had parked his
car...

...in the municipal parking lot,
where it belonged...

...you wouldn't have
broken your metarsal.

Now all I have to do
is push the lieutenant's car...

...back into the municipal
parking lot, ticket and all.

You know, I'm beginning to
sympathize with that guy Dibble.

A guy who hustles
gets no recognition at
headquarters.

Oh, mark my word, sir.

You are gonna go down in their
books as one of the force's
greatest hustlers.

I try.

Of course, nothing really big
happens in a precinct this size.

Don't fool yourself.

Officer Dibble was all set to
move in on two of the number one
crooks...

...on the FBI list.

That one, for instance.

PROWLER:
Say, that face looks familiar.

TOP CAT:
Mm. Dibble said he was in this
area...

...probably masquerading
as a conservative businessman.

Sure, I remember now.

I saw him go in the municipal
building this morning.

I'll bet he's still there. I'll
just go over and stake it out.

Better be sure. You know the
penalty for false arrest.

PROWLER:
I'm positive.

Patrolman Ernest Prowler?

[ANGRY MURMURING OVER PHONE]

Yes, lieutenant.
That's him, all right.

But I told him not
to write any more.

For parking next to a hydrant?

[LAUGHS NERVOUSLY]

Well, sir, you know these
rookies.

He just saw your car next to the
plug and didn't notice the
license and--

It was where at the time?

In the municipal parking lot?

Yes, sir.

Yes, you've heard
the last of it, sir.

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

-Sarge, we got a man named
Prowler?
-We got him, all right.

What's the trouble now?

Some of these people Prowler
gave tickets to went to the
newspapers...

...and the newspapers
wanna know how come.

How come what?

How come these tickets were put
on cars that were parked in
parking lots...

...used-car lots, in auto
showrooms, junkyards.

Oh, no!

Uh, that ain't what
has the newspapers steamed.

They're steamed because along
with each summons...

...he kind of left a reminder
that the ticket could be fixed.

SERGEANT:
What? Let me see those.

"For the Policemen's Benefit
Ball, and indirectly, your own
benefit...

...send $5 to Patrolman
Prowler."

Good heavens! What next?

Help! Help! Somebody!
I'm the mayor of this city.

I'm being abducted. Help!

You're Cha-Cha Charlie McGee,
wanted in five states...

...for bigamy, grand larceny,
embezzlement...

...and running a dance school
without a license.

I'm not Cha-Cha Charlie McGee.

I'm only Homer Suggs,
mayor of this city.

Oh, yeah? And I'm Loretta Young.

You are a kook.

Hey, hold it!

I repeat, you're a kook!

Hello? Hello?

Well, that's funny. Every phone
in headquarters is busy.

Must be something big popping.

And you almost had the front
pages right in your hand.

Yep. He jumped right out the
window, and wouldn't you know,
with my luck...

...he landed right on
a moving laundry truck.

TOP CAT:
And got clean away, yeah.
Well, cheer up, sir.

There's still Mr. Big, the
Mailbox Bandit,
the one the feds are after.

Mailbox Bandit?
I never heard of him.

Top-secret. Dibble was working
with the feds on the case.

Very foxy-type bandit.

He doesn't bother
stealing mail from the boxes.

He just filches the whole
mailbox, even in broad daylight.

Did Dibble have any plan
on how to capture him?

Yeah, but you'd have to be
stupid to try it.

Who do you think you're talking
to? I'll try it.

Okay, then this is what you do.

I don't think anyone saw you get
in. Are you all right?

PROWLER:
All right.

All you have to do now is wait.

Yes, gentlemen. I hate to blow
the whistle on any policeman...

...but Officer Prowler needs
help badly,
if you know what I mean.

That's right. The last time I
saw him,
he thought he was Loretta Young.

Well, I guess his string just
snapped.

Eight hundred and ninety-six
tickets in 24 hours. Fantastic!

TOP CAT:
Here we are, gentlemen.

Here we are? Where?

The pressure got so great...

...Officer Prowler just wanted
to get away from it all.

So he simply became a registered
letter and mailed himself.

You mean...

...Prowler is inside that box?

-How do we get him out?
-The postman always raps twice.

All right, you're all under
arrest.

See? I told you he was a kook.

Cha-Cha Charlie,
what are you doing here?

Easy, boy, easy.

It's me, your Uncle Eugene.

You're in friendly hands now.

But, uncle, that guy with you
is Cha-Cha Charlie.

-And I was in the mailbox to--
-Sure. Sure.

Let's go home now and rest.

Then you can tell me
all about it.

Even I couldn't explain it to
the sergeant,
and I set the whole deal up.

DIBBLE: Dibble here.
Everything back to normal.

Okay, sarge, no hard feelings.

All right, what are you
hanging around for?

Break it up, move along.

And thanks, boys.

Top Cat

The most effectual Top Cat

Who's intellectual close
friends get to call him T.C

Providing it's with dignity

Top Cat

The indisputable
leader of the g*ng

He's the boss, he's a pip,
he's the championship

He's the most tip top,
Top Cat

Yes he's a chief, he's a king,
But above everything

He's the most tip top

Top Cat