05x22 - Whiskers and Tails

[bunniefuu]

Hello, I'm Mr. Ed.

A horse is a horse, of course, of course.

And no one can talk to a horse, of course.

That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed.

Go right to the source and ask the horse.

He'll give you the answer that you endorse.

He's always on a steady course.

Talk to Mr. Ed.

Well, that's five in a row.

You sure can pitch cards, fella.

If I could do this with a baseball,

I'd be the toast of the pony league.

Yeah, well, my turn now, huh?

Let's be flipperin' head.

Eh, what did you find out about our new neighbor?

Look, I don't know.

Don't talk when I'm trying to throw cards.

It's un-Horseman-like.

I just asked about the new neighbor.

Well, he teaches at college.

His name is Professor Thorndyke, and he teaches archaeology.

Now, will you be quiet and watch?

What's, uh, archaeology?

k*ll me. I'm a blabbermouth.

I'm gonna take that shot over.

What else did you find out about our new neighbor?

Oh, nothing much.

Right now, Carol and Winnie are taking inventory.

Women are born snoopers.

I think it's childish, snooping on neighbors.

So do I.

What are you doing?

Snooping.

That's how private you are.

Invading a neighbor's privacy.

That's not nice.

That's not mature.

What kind of furniture does he have?

Termite wood.

Oh, be careful, please.

That's a very valuable piece.

Yeah? Well, what's this thing supposed to be?

That thing, as you so quaintly put it,

is a priceless sculptured figurine

from the pre-dynastic era of Egyptian history.

Yes, though I doubt if that piece of knowledge

will change your life much.

This looks like the kind of thing

that you win by busting balloons to the fair.

What's the matter, professor?

Ain't you got a sense of humor?

Well, you'll find that I have

when I give you your tip.

Now, tell me everything.

Well, all I could get out of the leasing agent

was that he's been a widower for 15 years.

15 years and not married yet?

How selfish, depriving some poor woman

of community property.

Who do we know that might be right for him?

Well, let's be fair.

We'll start with Alice

and work alphabetically down to Zelda.

Hey, professor.

Yeah?

One of the legs on your chess table is loose.

You got a screwdriver?

No, I haven't.

Perhaps I can borrow one from the neighbors.

What's the matter?

That new neighbor.

I can tell by that beard he's a horse hater.

Why are you so jittery over our new neighbor

just because he happens to have a beard?

Because whiskers and tails don't mix.

Oh, that's ridiculous.

It's not important what a man looks like.

It's what he is.

I know what he is, a horse hater.

What makes you so sure?

When I was a little horse,

a short, heavy man with a beard gave me a hard time.

What'd he do to you?

He made me look ridiculous.

And if a horse can't have his pride,

he may as well be a human.

So because one man once bugged you,

then all short, heavy men with beards are horse haters.

Is that what you're trying to tell me?

Yeah.

What about Santa Claus? Would you consider him a horse hater?

You know anybody else with a wagon pulled by reindeer?

Oh, but Santa loves kids, you will admit that.

I mean...

Where are you going?

What are you doing?

Daddy-o, your horsey-o is taking off for Mexico.

Hey, cut that out.

You shouldn't hold it against the professor

just because he happens to look like a man

who once made fun of you.

Wilbur?

Uh, coming, Carol. Now, you relax.

Remember, we've got to learn to live with our neighbors.

Well, if this one ever invites me to dinner,

I'm hiring a food taster.

Oh, Mrs. Post, I hate to come borrowing things

on my very first day in the neighborhood.

You're perfectly welcome, Professor Thorndyke.

We're always borrowing things from each other, aren't we, Winnie?

Oh, yes. Our hedge clipper's gone back and forth so many times,

we've forgotten who owns it.

You're welcome to borrow it any time you want to.

Oh, no, thank you. No, I might get careless someday

and trim the wrong hedge, you know.

Wilbur, this is our new neighbor, Professor Thorndyke.

Professor Thorndyke, my husband.

Welcome to the neighborhood, Professor.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Post.

Oh, let's not be so formal around here.

I'm Wilbur, this is Carol, this is Winnie.

And what can we call you?

Professor Thorndyke.

Oh, come on.

I bet your students call you Thorny.

Oh, they call me many things, but never to my face.

Oh, thank you for the loan of the screwdriver.

Oh, not so fast, Professor.

There's another member of the family I'd like you to meet.

Oh, really? I feel that I'm intruding.

Not at all. He's having his hay break now.

Yeah, this way.

You know, Mr. Post, I've never gone in for horseback riding.

Why not? You would love it.

Yeah, well, maybe I would, but I doubt if the horse would.

See, I'm not exactly built like a jockey.

But, uh, you do like horses, Professor, right?

Not particularly.

And why are you shouting?

Would you do me a favor?

Uh, what is it?

Would you say loudly that you like horses?

Why?

I want him to hear you.

Who?

My horse.

Why do you want him to hear me?

So he won't think you dislike him.

Well, I have a better idea, Mr. Post.

Why don't I just write him a friendly letter?

Would you?

Mr. Post, I hope that you're joking.

Because if you're not, I may have to move out before I move in.

No, I was just kidding, Professor.

Over here.

Here.

Meet the smartest horse in town, Mr. Ed.

I guess he's asleep.

Does he always sleep under the hay?

You have a point there.

No, I guess he's just playing games.

He's, uh, he's hiding.

Why?

Well, you're new in the neighborhood, and, uh,

well, this is not the real Ed.

You're not seeing his best side.

Oh, well, I like what I see so far.

Wonderful, wonderful.

Actually, he's a very smart horse.

Very intelligent.

In some ways, almost human.

Oh, Mr. Post, I appreciate your affection for this animal,

but it's a well-known fact that the horse

rates near the bottom in the scale of animal intelligence.

Oh, I wish you hadn't said that, Thorny.

Mr. Post, the name is Thorndyke.

Thank you for the loan of the screwdriver,

and I suppose I should be seeing you around from time to time.

Annual block parties, or perhaps not quite that frequently.

See?

He called me stupid.

I told you roly-poly guys with beards were horse knockers.

I'm sure he didn't mean anything.

Wilbur, what can I do?

Porcupine Puss is giving me an inferiority complex.

Ed, there is one way you could make him

respect your intelligence.

Eh?

Challenge him to a debate on TV?

No, no, no.

See, what I was thinking,

you remember we saw them carry a chess table into his house?

Yeah.

You mean I should challenge him to a chess game, huh?

That's right.

You're tops.

Look, I'll set it up.

Once you've beaten him,

he'll never knock a horse's intelligence again.

Yeah.

Yeah, I must say, you surprise me, Post.

I mean, from our meeting yesterday,

I would never have thought that you'd be a person

who would be interested in chess.

Oh, I am, I am.

Why don't you sit down, Professor?

Thank you.

Let's go.

Post, let's get started.

Why don't you pull over a chair?

Oh, I'm not playing.

I'll make the first move.

Did you say you were not playing?

No, I'll just watch.

I don't quite understand.

Who am I playing against?

My horse.

Come on, Ed.

You know, you have a very droll sense of humor, Post.

I suppose one of these nights,

you and that horse will be inviting me over

for a game of poker.

Oh, no, no.

Ed doesn't gamble.

See, he uses the carrot to move the pieces.

You know, Post,

in spite of myself,

I'm beginning to like you.

Although, I must admit,

I'm never quite sure

whether you're serious

or just pulling my...

Hey, it's strange.

He accidentally made a legitimate move.

Accident?

Oh, no, no.

Don't let that innocent look fool you.

Ed is pretty foxy.

It's your move, Professor.

You're never serious for a moment, eh, Post?

What's the matter? You stuck?

Oh, all right.

Oh, you'll find that I can go along with a joke.

Let's see now.

Check.

I believe it's your horse's turn.

Right, Ed.

He's thinking.

Take your time, Ed, baby.

Don't let him rattle you.

Post, you know,

it's going to be an experience living next to you.

You have a certain...

Come on, let's be fair, please.

He's trying to concentrate.

You're an incredible chap.

He's going to make his move.

Say, he actually pushed another piece.

Don't worry, Professor.

If he beats you,

he'll give you a return match.

Clever.

I mean, it must have taken

a great deal of patience

to teach a dumb animal

how to move chess pieces around

without knocking them over.

Give up.

Oh, you, uh,

you give up, Professor?

Give up?

My dear boy, my bishop takes his king.

I win.

There.

Yes, your, um, horse isn't, uh,

much of a chess player, is he, old boy?

No.

Well, he's a little off his game tonight.

You know, you have a delightful sense of humor, Post.

Delightful.

Well, good night, old chap.

Weird, but delightful.

Ed, how is it you lost?

I told you.

Chubby little men with whiskers

give me the woolies.

I just couldn't think.

Don't worry about what

the professor thinks about you.

I happen to think

you're the most intelligent animal

in the whole world.

Even smarter than a monkey?

Believe me, there isn't a monkey

that could beat you playing chess.

Unless he was a chubby little monkey

with whiskers.

Good night.

And remember, you'll be a lot happier

if you learn to love your neighbor.

Love your neighbor.

Go to bed now.

Ed, would you bring me

the Johnson file, please?

Okay, boss.

Sorry, Wilbur.

My nose is all thumbs today.

Ed, you've been a nervous wreck

the past two days,

ever since that new neighbor moved in.

Oh, it's awful.

Being around someone

who makes you feel inferior

all the time.

But you'll never know

what that's like.

I wouldn't say that.

I'm a married man.

Why does he hang around here so much?

Ed, if it'll make you feel any better,

Winnie and Carol are trying

to find a wife for the professor.

If he gets married,

he won't come around here so often.

Well, I hope he gets married

for one big reason.

What's that?

A man like that

deserves a mother-in-law.

Come on, help me pick this stuff up.

Come on.

Well, it's a lovely night,

isn't it, professor?

Yes, it is.

In fact, you could say

it's a beautiful night.

You could say that.

And I believe you have.

When the girls told me

you taught at the university,

I was very impressed.

You might not believe it,

but I went to college

for two whole years.

Incredible.

What did you major in?

I don't remember.

But I never missed

one football game.

Well, it's always gratifying

to meet a fellow intellectual.

I understand

you're an archaeologist?

Yes, yes.

Well, I share your interest.

I love rocks.

In fact,

I have a rock garden.

Oh?

Uh, did you grow them yourself?

Very clever, professor.

But I did collect them myself.

Oh, well, that's what I meant.

My friends call me

a rock hound.

I'm sorry that I don't know you

as well as they do.

Thank you.

Nothing much has happened so far.

What do you think, Winnie?

Well, if I were Alice,

I wouldn't start

printing wedding announcements.

Hi, girls.

Shh.

What's the score in there?

We can't tell.

She's pitching,

but he isn't catching.

Well, but they just

are warming up to each other.

Leave it to me.

When it comes to warming people up,

I'm the original electric blanket.

Don't worry about it, Carol.

Just plug me in

and watch me go.

Ha!

Hello, you two.

I hope I'm not interrupting anything.

Oh, I would say no.

You mind if I sit down?

Oh, no, please do.

Ahem.

Well, isn't this cozy?

It's a nice night.

We've already exhausted that topic.

Well,

Professor, I don't know

whether you know this, but, uh,

Mrs. Weaver and you

have something in common.

She loves rocks.

Mr. Post.

Mrs. Weaver.

She even has her own rock garden.

Oh, I'm glad to hear that again.

You mean she told you about that?

Oh, yes, in some detail.

I bet you didn't know

that her friends call her a rock hound.

Yes, she did make that confession.

Oh.

Ahem.

Ahem.

Ahem.

Oh, you said that, didn't you?

It's a nice night.

And a long one.

Yes, well, that happens

this time of year, you know.

The nights get longer.

But then again, the days do get shorter.

Well, just as long as they

all come out even in the end.

Isn't that nice, the way they do that?

Well, it's certainly been fun

chatting with you two.

You know what they say,

two's company and three's a crowd.

So, if you'll excuse me,

I better be going.

I have something very important

I have to do.

Ah!

That's the important thing

I had to do.

I had to fall down.

Interesting chap.

Reminds me of someone

I once dug up.

Perhaps I'd better take it.

Excuse me.

Hello?

Is Professor Thorndyke there?

Speaking.

Oh, hello, Professor.

I, uh, just called to congratulate you.

Congratulate me?

What for?

On your coming marriage

to Mrs. Weaver.

My dear chap,

there must be some mistake.

Are you the little fat man

with the whiskers?

Well, uh, yes.

The horse hater?

What?

Never mind.

You've won yourself

a great little girl, Professor.

She's a terrific housekeeper,

makes all her own clothes,

and she owns a 36-unit apartment house

on Wilshire Boulevard.

I'm not interested.

Ed, that was a terrible trick

you played on the Professor.

I was only trying to get him married

so he'd stop coming in here

and upsetting me every day.

Once and for all,

you have got to get rid

of this phobia you have

about heavy men with whiskers.

But how, Wilbur?

What can I do?

Ed, these tensions

have been building up in you.

If you could only

release your inhibitions,

yell at the Professor.

I can't, Wilbur.

I only yell at you.

Okay, Ed, okay.

Can I open the door now?

Are you ready?

If you want, my good horse,

you may come in now.

Wilbur,

is that you under that hedge?

Oh, jolly well, it's me.

All right, you dumb animal,

I want you to shout at me.

I can't.

You can't?

Why not?

Because Professor Thorndyke

makes me nervous.

Come on,

I'm not Professor Thorndyke.

Then why are you wearing

his kind of clothes?

Ed, I've gone to a lot of trouble

to help you get rid

of this phobia.

See, I'm wearing whiskers,

I'm chubby,

and I am giving you

a hard time, you see?

Now, now shout at me.

I can't.

Why not?

Because I love you.

Now, Zelda,

I'm sure you'll find

the professor charming,

but one thing we have

found out about him,

he doesn't seem to like

the shy type.

Yes, I think you'd do better

with a direct approach.

Look, girls, let's face it,

I'm single and past 35.

I'm not only direct,

I'm desperate.

Go get him, tiger.

Where is he?

I just saw him go into the barn.

The reason I'm doing this

is I want you to get rid

of all your repressions.

Now, come on,

shove this grapefruit in my face.

I can't.

Why not?

It looks delicious.

Oh, I give up.

Boo.

Hello, professor.

Uh, uh, madam,

you've got the wrong barn

and the wrong professor.

Ha, ha, ha.

Ah, ah, they told me

you were shy, professor,

but I just want to go

out on the patio

and let's talk

about the weather.

Well, why don't you just

dial the weather bureau?

Aren't you adorable?

Ooh.

Uh, madam,

I-I-I'm afraid

I'm not who you think I am.

I'm-I'm Wilbur Post.

Oh, of course you are, honey.

And I'm really Ja-Ja Gabor.

Brr.

Come on, you gorgeous thing.

Miss Gabor, excuse me.

Oh.

Post?

Just call me Thorny.

That's right.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

All right, Ed, look.

Look, you've been laughing

long enough.

Now stop it.

Ed, you'll make yourself sick.

It's tough being a horse.

You can't hold your size.

Come on, Ed, get up.

All right, Ed, come on now.

Get up.

Brr.

All right.

I guess the professor and I

did look kind of funny

standing there,

whisker to whisker.

Strange thing, Wilbur.

The professor doesn't

make me nervous anymore.

Of course not, Ed.

You see, Ed,

if you can learn to laugh

at life's problems,

somehow they don't seem so serious.

Yeah.

Excuse me.

Hello.

What?

My wife's checking account

is overdrawn.

Would you repeat that?

$300.

I don't see you laughing,

buddy boy.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Be quiet.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

A horse is a horse,

of course, of course.

And no one can talk

to a horse, of course.

That is, of course,

unless the horse

is the famous Mr. Ed.

Go right to the source

and ask the horse.

He'll give you the answer

that you endorse.

He's always on

a steady course.

Talk to Mr. Ed.

People yackety-yack a streak

and waste your time a day.

But Mr. Ed will never speak

unless he has something to say.

A horse is a horse,

of course, of course.

And this one will talk

to his voice, his horse.

You never heard

of a talking horse?

Well, listen to this.

I am Mr. Ed.

This has been a Filmways presentation.