05x24 - Ed the Artist

[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, this is marriage for you, Ed.

My wife insists that I take a week's vacation,

and she puts me to work around the house.

Ah, well.

You know, you haven't said a word for 15 minutes.

What's the matter?

I'm a thinker, Mr. Red.

A thinking horse.

What's my, uh, what's my thinking horse thinking about?

Life. Fate.

The reason for existence.

Deep stuff.

You wouldn't understand.

Oh, come on, Ed.

Tell me.

If it's over my head,

I'll get another horse to explain it to me.

I don't know, Wilbur.

There must be more to life

than just eating hay and brushing flies off your back.

Okay, Socrates, hand me the sponge.

Thank you.

Gotta get these streaks.

Ed, I...

I asked for the sponge, not the hamburger.

Sorry, Wilbur.

I must be thinking with the wrong end today.

Come on, hand me the sponge.

Thank you.

That's better. There.

Now, hand me the squeegee.

Huh?

Uh, oh, yeah, sure.

Thank you.

Uh, oh.

Ed, I asked for the squeegee.

That, uh, thought occurred to me

while the window was breaking.

Ed, what is bothering you today?

I'm going nowhere, Wilbur.

On the sea of life,

I'm a piece of driftwood with a tail.

Look, I wish you would get off this kicker

of having a purpose for your life.

I can't.

When I go, I want the world to know Ed lived.

I want to leave a piece of me behind.

All right, I'll have your appendix removed.

Oh.

Wilbur, there must be some hidden talent I got,

something I can give to the world.

Ed, you have a great talent. You can talk.

So can a parrot.

And I'll bet you can't name me one famous parrot.

Holly Bergen?

Ah, never mind.

I can get better advice by dialing information.

I hope Wilbur likes my new outfit.

Oh, he'll love it, Carol.

Wilbur, can you come out here for a minute, please?

Get right away, Carol.

Oh, it's wonderful what a girl can do

with a good figure and a joint checking it out.

Hi, Winnie. Hi, dear.

Oh, say, I like that.

Oh, thanks, honey.

Do you think I ought to have it shortened?

You know, show my knees?

No, let's keep them in the family, huh?

I think it's a lovely outfit.

Winnie, while the sale is on,

why don't you pick yourself up a dress?

Oh, no, the colonel likes me in slacks.

Sometimes I'm not sure whether he wanted a wife or a brother.

Oh, honey, while I have the outfit on,

why don't you take some pictures of me?

Oh, I'd like to, Carol, but I haven't got time right now.

I'm still finishing up those windows, you know.

See you later, girls.

Let's go show the colonel the outfit.

Maybe he'll find me one.

Yeah, that's right, operator.

I want to speak to Dr. Albert Schweitzer in Africa.

No, I don't know his number.

Don't you have an African phone book?

I want to find out if he can use a dedicated horse.

No, not a dead horse.

Dedicated.

If I get a bill for that phone call,

dead horse will be right.

Wilbur, I'm trying to find something

I can contribute to mankind.

Ed, every time you get in one of these crazy kicks of yours,

I'm the one who winds up getting kicked.

Now, promise me, I want you to promise me

you won't do anything foolish.

Well...

Come on, Ed.

Okay.

I promise.

Good.

Well, now.

I'd better get a new pane of glass for this right away.

See you later, Ed.

I'm going to find out what big talent I got

so I can leave the world something besides my gorgeous body.

You know, Ed, my break in this window was all your fault.

You hadn't distracted me with that silly talk

about making a name for yourself in the world.

Why, I...

Ed?

Ed!

Ed!

What are you doing now?

Thinking of becoming a nuclear scientist.

I got a secret for you, Ed.

Very few colleges in this country enroll horses.

Tell them I'm a great football player.

They'd sign me up without looking.

All right.

You are not going to become a nuclear scientist.

At least not today.

Why not?

Well, because we're going to go riding later

and I'd feel funny sitting on the back of a college professor.

See you later, Einstein.

I got to make some contribution to mankind.

Why not?

I think I've got the answer.

I'll be the first horse to take a picture of the moon.

Now the countdown.

The rocket will sail through the open door

and then on to the moon and take the picture.

Hope they got a drugstore up there to develop the film.

Well, this is it.

Five, four, three, two, one.

Blast off!

Oh, trouble!

Oh!

What happened?

Ed!

He's not here. I'll take a message.

Never mind that, wise guy.

I demand an explanation for this.

And you shall have it.

All right.

Well, I'm waiting.

Oh, I'm thinking.

What happened, Wilbur, was I didn't allow for the curvature of the Earth

so my trajectory was off by two degrees.

Ed, what are you talking about?

That's the last time I'll try to get a rocket to the moon

with a rubber band and a transistor battery.

A rocket to the... Ed, you didn't.

As far as I know, Wilbur, it's somewhere out in space.

Colonel.

How many times have I told you

not to play with your little toys in the house?

But this is not mine.

Please, Colonel.

Now, if you want to play with your little rocket,

take it out in the backyard.

I'll call you when lunch is ready.

But I tell you, this is not mine.

I was sitting...

I...

I claimed the moon in the name of Wilbur Post.

Well, he's finally flipped.

See, it's Wilbur's.

Now, maybe you'll believe me when I tell you the truth.

Colonel, I wish you wouldn't tell me the truth

when I least expect it.

Oh, he can k*ll somebody with this thing.

I'm going to have a talk with him.

Now, be firm with him, not the way you are with me.

Really?

Ed, I do not mind you having ambition,

or even experimenting,

but you're going to have to find something

less destructive than rocketry.

Okay.

Buy me a chemistry set.

Oh, fine.

Now you want to put the whole barn in orbit, huh?

I want a chemistry set.

Oh, hi, Gordon.

I believe this is yours.

Oh, no, that's Ed's.

Oh.

What I mean is, Gordon,

what makes you think it's mine?

Read right there.

I claim the moon in the name of Wilbur Post.

Uh, Gordon, all I can say is,

this is not my rocket, I didn't do it,

and we won't do it again.

Wilbur, you're more than a friend and a neighbor.

You're a menace.

Wilbur, I know how I can leave my mark in the world.

Ed, once and for all,

will you get off this kick?

I know now what I want.

All I want is a painting set.

A painting set?

Sure.

I could be the first Palomino Picasso.

What do you say?

I think you're mad.

Oh, come on.

What harm can I do with a paint set?

I don't know,

but I have a feeling you will figure out a way.

Hold the pose, honey.

I want to capture that Mona Lisa smile.

I still say it would be a better painting

if you slipped out of that saddle, Yvette.

Oh, come on, Yvette.

It's too late to get your mother.

I know it's your first modeling job,

but I look at you through the eyes of an artist.

Well, if you won't take the saddle off,

will you loosen it a little?

It'll give you that impudent, saucy look.

Hey, come back, Yvette.

Come back.

I'll pay you two bales of hay.

Sheesh, what a prude.

I'll bet she isn't even French.

Well, I've got to find something to paint.

But why can't you take pictures of me right after lunch?

Carol, I've got to buy a new window for the barn.

I don't think you want to take pictures of me in my new outfit.

Look, Carol, this Sunday, I'll take 20 pictures of you.

I'll even take a shot of the price tag

so you can show it to your girlfriend.

See you later.

If Wilbur won't take her picture,

I'll paint one of her.

Ah!

I'm going to work hard to leave the world a masterpiece.

I'm going to put my heart and tail into it.

Where's the vermilion?

Oh, hey, that didn't take long.

Ahem.

Portrait of Carol, huh?

What are we waiting for, Wilbur?

Let's call the Louvre in Paris.

My painting can go right next to Whistler's mother.

You mean behind it.

That's, uh, very nice, Ed,

but, uh...

doesn't look at all like Carol.

Well, you've never seen her through a horse's eyes.

I mean, you see Carol as kind of plump and chunky, huh?

She's what we artists call smallsy.

You know, the strong peasant type.

You see Carol as a peasant?

No question about it, Wilbur.

She could pull plows.

That's very interesting, Ed.

You got a little smudge down there.

Where?

Here.

Aw, that's the vermilion.

It looked so delicious, I had to taste it.

Uh, well, I'll try to clean it up for you.

Okay.

And I think I'll take a little nap

before I knock out my next masterpiece.

Painting is so exhausting.

Oh.

Portrait of Carol, huh?

Oh, hi, Carol.

Uh...

Well, what do you think?

You won't take a picture of me,

but you have time to draw a cartoon of a fat freak.

Just answer my question. What do you think?

I think it's awful.

Now, you tear it up right this minute.

Well...

Uh, you'll have to give me time to think.

No time.

Either that painting goes out of this barn,

or tonight you'll be sleeping in the barn with it.

Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?

Yes.

Well, we'll see about that.

You sure showed her who's boss in this family.

Well, how come I'm sleeping in the barn?

Because you're an art lover.

Ed, I'm also a wife lover.

I'm not sure I made the right choice.

Good night, Ed.

Night, Wilbur.

You sore at me, Wilbur?

No, Ed.

Go to sleep.

Who do you love more, me or Carol?

Carol.

Who do you love second best?

Ed, I'm trying to go to sleep.

Sorry, Wilbur. Good night.

Good night.

Are you sleeping?

How can I sleep with you talking?

Okay, I'll keep quiet.

I hope so.

I hope so, too.

Ed, you are driving me back to my wife.

Oh, we can't have that.

Good night, Wilbur.

Good night.

Sleep tight, Wilbur.

That does it.

I am sleeping in the house.

Gee, he's a nervous wreck.

He ought to take up painting to relax.

Well, here I am, your hubsy-wubsy.

Go to sleep in the barnsy-warnsy.

Carol, look.

I feel that when a married couple have a difference of opinion,

they should discuss things in the open.

Now, I think that...

That I'm a chubby freak.

No, you're a skinny freak.

Carol, you are just right. Believe me.

Are you going to throw out that dreadful painting?

Carol, look. Here.

Let us be fair.

Now, you should see some of the wild impressionistic stuff in the art galleries.

Really, what we should do is find someone who knows

and let him tell us whether the painting is good or bad.

Like who?

Uh, like, uh...

That Professor Meyerhoff.

That art critic who talked to your ladies' club last year.

All right. You've got yourself a deal.

Swell.

Remember, if Professor Meyerhoff says that monstrosity is trash,

out it goes.

Okay, Chubby.

Uh, Carol, Carol.

Ah.

Ah, Carol.

Ah, dear.

That's a beautiful sunset.

It's not a sunset.

It's my wife.

She's very pretty.

She's ugly.

Well, if you feel that way about it, why did you marry her?

Because I'm an artist.

An artist must suffer.

I see you're suffering, too.

Oh. Oh, no.

No, you see, that's supposed to be my wife,

but actually it doesn't look a bit like her.

This is just an artist's conception.

It's a...

It's a combination of all women.

Hmm.

Then you've got the wrong combination.

You, uh...

You don't think it's any good?

To put it kindly.

Maybe you could tell me what is wrong with it.

What's right with it.

The colors don't harmonize.

The perspective is all wrong.

Yes, it's hard to believe it was painted by a human hand.

Well, it wasn't.

I mean, it wasn't supposed to be an example of great art,

you know, with all that.

It's a first attempt.

Well, kindly make it your last.

The world isn't ready for a second one.

In other words, you don't think I should show it to the professor?

I don't even think you should show it to your wife.

Well, that's it.

I guess now there'll never be a one-horse show.

One-horse show.

Schindler.

Don't tell me you're still painting.

But this one is different, Professor.

Professor, this one you're going to like.

Junk.

Instead of wasting that good oil, you should fry potatoes.

Professor, I...

Out!

You never sold a painting in your life, you never will.

What is this?

Who painted that?

You want to buy it? It's mine.

Wilbur Post, 17230 Valley Spring Lane.

So you just dropped my picture in the professor's wastebasket, huh?

That's what you wanted, isn't it?

Oh. I'll get it, honey.

Professor Meyerhoff.

Mrs. Post? Oh, Mr. Post?

Yes. Won't you come in?

How do you do, Professor?

How do you do?

Why did you leave my gallery without letting me see your painting?

You mean you like it?

Well, it's unorthodox, but I would like to buy it.

It's not for sale.

Carol, please let me handle this.

Well, now, Professor, I needn't tell you

that one doesn't just dash a painting like this off in an hour or a day.

It takes months of thought, of planning, soul-searching,

pinning down the concept.

$25?

I'll take it.

I'm sorry. It's not for sale.

$30?

I'll take it.

No, I'm sorry.

All right. $35.

I don't care how high you go, Professor. I'll take it.

Carol, please.

All right. Thank you very much.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

Uh, Professor.

I'm glad you like the painting.

Can you imagine? My wife thinks this is a monstrosity.

I agree with her.

Professor, if you don't like it, why did you buy it?

Because, Mr. Post, I'm not only a critic, I also teach art.

And in all my life, I've never seen a painting

with more mistakes an artist can make than this one.

It will teach my students how not to paint.

Goodbye, Professor.

So, a lot of people will be looking at my picture

and laughing at fat old Carol.

Oh, now, dear, just because it says

Portrait of Carol on the bottom, it doesn't say Carol who.

I mean, your friends will never know.

It could be Carol Schluschenhofer, or Karen Dittenpfer,

or I sleep in the barn tonight.

Yeah, thank you.

Now, hold still, Wolfie.

Wilbur, stop moving around.

Okay, maestro.

Hurry up, Ed, my nose is itching.

Don't move, Wilbur.

We don't want to wind up with a blurry statue.

Now, hold the pose. I'm going for more clay.

Wilbur?

Hi.

Oh, hi, Gordon.

I was just making a clay statue.

Of yourself?

Yeah.

Well, what happens, see, I pose here a little bit,

then I run down and work, and then I pose here,

and then I run down, I come back up here,

and I haven't been well at all lately.

I don't know.

I don't know.

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 yakety yak 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.