05x32 - Chip O' the Islands

[bunniefuu]

Do you know something?

I can do this whole carpet in 43 strokes.

That so?

Now, a young fella like you with a strong
arm, no telling what you could do.

You want to give it a try?

No, thanks.

Well, just give me a crack at the record.

Uncle Charley?

Yeah?

I read Tom Sawyer.

I'll get it.

Probably some salesman this time of the afternoon.

Oh, yeah, mate.

Well, Joshua Quimby.

I don't believe it.

What's so funny?

Is this really O'Casey?

The scourge of the South Pacific, the terror
of Bora Bora, the monsoon of Manichaea?

Yeah, the same O'Casey who should have
thrown you to the sharks.

No insult intended.

Except that I didn't expect to see you
working as the upstairs mate.

Come in, man, anyway.

Well, charming, charming.

Charming.

When did you get to town?

This morning.

Checked in and came right over to see me old pal.

Don't tell me, let me guess.

You came here to sell me shares in an ostrich racetrack.

Why does it always have to be some sort of crooked deal?

Can't I just be dropping in to say hello to an old friend?

It's possible, but I doubt it.

Joshua Quimby, Chip Douglas, my grandnephew.

How do you do?

How do you do?

Hey, Uncle Charley, what gives?

I opened my drawer just to get a T-shirt
and haul my underwear.

Where's term proof?

Excuse me.

Well, I underestimated you, Charley.

You run a laundry as well, eh?

Well, if you need some business,
I have a couple of shirts you can have.

Robbie Douglas, Joshua Quimby.

How do you do?

A very great pleasure.

Quimby is an Australian, which they ran
him out of, because he's a crook.

Now, sit down and relax anyway.

Quimby, you know you're here to swindle me
again, and I know you're here to swindle me again.

So let's get on with it.

Charlie, I don't blame you for being suspicious.

As a matter of fact, I've given up the old ways.

I am now the strictly legitimate representative of
the South Pacific Land Development Company.

Joshua Quimby, senior purchasing consultant.

We're developing some of those little
South Pacific islands where you and I used

to roam, turning them into native
paradises for the care-worn tourist.

Good luck.

What dodge brought you this far off the trade route?

The picking is poor around here.

You stabbed me to the quick, Charley.

But since you insist upon talking crass business, there's
just a little matter of ten acres of land on Coco Fuji.

What's Coco Fuji?

That's an island in the Pacific just near enough to Tahiti.

Me boy, the native girls would consider you a teenage god.

How about that?

Yes, and we're building a hotel there.

The restaurant, shops, the airfield for
little planes for island hopping.

Clearing operations will begin just as soon as
you put your signature on this piece of paper.

It's a mere formality.

Property.

Ten acres on Coco Fuji belonging to Charley O'Casey.

I own ten acres on Coco Fuji?

Well, just a little ten acres.

Used to belong to that old native chief
you rescued that night.

They were going to beat him, them sick
sailors, off the Mary Bee.

I remember.

What a brawl that was.

How's your old chief doing?

Oh, he passed on.

They left the property to you.

You know, those natives are superstitious.

They regard it as yours.

Of course, we could move in and take it over.

But I thought, well, I'll do a favor for an old pal.

Here we are.

Fifty acres.

Fifty dollars for your signature.

Right here.

Quimby, I ain't signing anything.

I remember that fixed kangaroo fight of yours I
signed for and how I landed in jail in Canberra.

Very well.

If you won't believe that I'm a reformed man.

If you change your mind, I'll be at the
hotel till the midnight plate leaves for Tahiti.

Goodbye, Master Douglas.

Goodbye, young sir.

Goodbye, Mr. Quimby.

If you're not willing to cash in, I'll let you in.

With a simple native superstition, we'll
just have to start building without you.

Well, happy dusting, Charley.

Something smells good.

What did you make for dinner, Charley?

I made stewed chicken with dumplings.

Oh.

In Coco Fuji, the women would be cooking for me.

Say, I ran into a messenger out front.

He was delivering this envelope.

It was for you.

Envelope?

Uh, Coco Fuji?

Yeah.

Yeah, Uncle Charley owns part of Coco Fuji.

It's an island in the South Pacific.

Right here.

No kidding.

Yeah, and Mr. Quimby, this Australian friend of
Uncle Charley's back in the old sailor days wants to buy it.

Hey, listen to this.

Dear Charley, how about continuing our
conversation under a coconut tree?

Do you good to see the island again?

Meet you in Coco Fuji.

Quimby.

Well, that's great, Charley.

You're going to go, aren't you?

Oh, Uncle Charley, you can't pass this up.

Well, I'm going to see just how much he
needs those ten acres of mine.

Steve, let's see if he comes up with five
round-trip tickets.

You mean so we can all go?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Why not, Dad?

Oh, no, I couldn't make it, Charlie.

I just started a new project.

And darn it, I have exams coming up.

Well, I haven't started a new project and
I don't have exams.

Oh, now, wait a minute, Rob.

You just can't take off from school.

Well, sure I could, Dad.

All I have to do is give a lecture in the
auditorium when I get back.

And our teacher gives us extra credit for
foreign travel if we make a report.

Well, this is kind of sudden, but it would
be a wonderful trip for the boys.

Oh, would it?

Yeah, a guy.

Okay, I got to catch Quincy before he takes off.

Let's see if he wants 10 acres on Coco
Fuji bad enough to come up with three tickets.

I'd be the only kid on the block with fresh coconuts.

Just the way I left Coco Fuji.

Untouched by civilization.

Where's Mr. Quimby?

Who knows?

But don't worry.

He'll show up in time to spring the trap.

Hey, they've got high five.

Mighty life that goes over the ocean.

Lovely hula hands calling the 98.

Lovely hula hands telling of the rains in the valley.

And the swirling winds over the Polly.

Lovely hula hands calling the 98.

I can feel the fog caressing the fog in the land.

I like the way they say hello.

Where are the fresh coconuts?

They're on the trees.

Hey, maybe we should join in a dance, just to be polite.

I never learned anything like that in social dancing.

Relax and enjoy the floor show.

It's a Joshua Quimby production.

Not bad.

Say to me again, I love you, lovely hula
hands, call me my nanny.

What are those?

Uh, papayas, pomegranates, oranges,
bananas, you know, the usual.

Help yourself.

It's like we're celebrities or something.

Coco Fuji welcomes you, almighty buona.

Buona?

That's strictly African.

Sahib?

Nope, Sahib is Indian.

How about Great White Father?

That's Indian, too.

That'll do.

Don't get too technical.

Quimby didn't have time to be authentic.

What's the next number on the program, friend?

Me rary.

Me lead you to village.

Bathe in clear pool of great pearls.

Then feast later.

Roast pig and choice of vegetables.

Follow, please.

Welcome, O'Crate, my father.

Hi, boys.

Hello, Mr. Considine.

When does this window start?

Oh, Charley.

You remember Chief Marpago?

Uh-uh.

Eldest son of your friend, Chief Numu.

Oh, sure.

Welcome, old friend.

Yes, there's been many a moves.

Chief, Chip and Robby are here.

Robby Douglas.

Hi.

I bid you welcome to Coco Fuji.

I'll apologize for humble village.

When your hotel is built, we'll show you a
welcome and knock your head off.

Chief, would you really like to tear down
the old island and put up another tourist trap?

Yes.

Today we trap wild boar, very little meat.

Tomorrow we trap nice, fat tourists.

Look, if my property is holding up the
project, you must need it pretty badly.

Where is it?

Oh, somewhere off in the jungle.

Now look, you rest up for a few hours.

Get ready for the feast of welcome.

Who wants to rest?

Hey, Quimby, maybe you got a legitimate project here.

You sure know how to treat us tourists.

Wait a minute.

What were you doing?

Nothing, just watching.

How come you're not at the feast?

I wasn't invited.

How come you weren't invited?

I thought the whole village was there.

Not my father and the other great fishermen.

You're a fisherman?

Yes, I'm a koala, k*ller of sharks.

How about that?

I'm Chip Douglas, the little league pitcher.

My father is a rua, the great shark k*ller.

My father's Steve Douglas, great aeronautical engineer.

Who's he?

Friday.

What's a chimp doing on a South Pacific island?

My father won it from a sailor.

Oh.

Boy, this is tough.

I didn't think there was any other guys my
age on the island.

There isn't now.

Mr. Quimby and Chief Mopago say we're not
allowed in our own homes until you leave.

How come?

Because we don't want you to build a hotel.

Why not?

Anybody would rather live in a modern
hotel than in one of those.

We have our own way of life.

It is not the way of tourists.

Yeah.

I guess the way you live is your business.

I'd like to learn about it from my book report.

That could be arranged.

If you could get away by yourself tomorrow.

Well, I'll ask Mr. Quimby.

Oh, no.

Mr. Quimby would tell Chief Mopago,
and he would have me beaten.

Okay.

I'll meet you here right after breakfast.

I will be waiting.

Mr. Quimby, did I see you leave?

No, he's sleeping.

They all are.

They stayed up later than I did.

Come, we go.

Okay, Chip, what's going on here?

Who's he?

He's my brother, Robbie.

Robbie, there's Koala.

k*ll her or sharks.

Hi.

Hi.

Koala's taking me to his village across
the bay to meet his family.

Can Robbie come?

It will be a great honor.

Well, what's the big secret?

Well, we're not supposed to know it.

Mr. Quimby cleared the island of all the
natives who don't want hotels or good plumbing.

Chip, you're not getting through to me.

Come, you see.

Welcome, young men.

Welcome to our island.

How do you do, Mr. O'Rourke?

Hi.

Come, I'd like you to meet my daughters.

Mrs. Tula.

And Moana.

Sita.

And little Mala.

Please make yourself at home.

Boy, this is a tropical paradise.

What are they making?

Poi.

Qua?

What do you do while the others are working?

Many things.

For one, I gather roots and coconuts.

We use the coconuts for food, for, uh, for Cobra.

Alas, fresh coconuts.

Can we get out of here?

Come with me, Chip.

I've heard of poi before, but I've never tasted it.

This is how we grind the root into a pulp.

Would you like to try?

It is very difficult.

Okay.

There is a very special secret to the making of poi.

It has been handed down in our family for many years.

A secret?

Yes.

Get somebody else to do it for you.

Hi, Uncle Charley.

Hi, Uncle Charley.

Hi, Mr. Quimby.

Boys, where were you?

We were out finding coconuts.

Yeah, I took a swim.

Oh.

Well, enjoy yourselves.

And get some breakfast.

Uncle Charley, we promised not to tell
Mr. Quimby, but we went over to the next island.

What for?

We visited some of the fishermen.

Mr. Quimby chased them away because they
don't want them to build a hotel.

Mr. Arrua told us he knows all about
your property, where it is, and why Mr.

Quimby has to have it.

We should come over there and see how they live.

And then you could stop them from building a hotel.

And Mr. Arrua says that they can't do a
thing without your property.

You mean he knows where it is?

If I knew just why.

If I knew just why Quimby needed my 10
acres, I could really put on the squeeze.

You mean you'd sell out?

Let Mr. Quimby spoil Coco Fuji?

Spoil Coco Fuji?

You must be kidding.

A hotel's got to be better than a thatched hut.

I'll figure out a way to take care of
Quimby so we can sneak off tomorrow.

I'll.

Figure out a way to take care of Quimby so
we can sneak off tomorrow.

Selling souvenirs?

Well, you got to put on a show for the tourists.

I have a son and four daughters.

I wish them to respect me.

I do not wish them to see me wearing a funny hat.

You can't stop progress.

It could be change, not necessarily progress.

Well, I don't see how you can fight Quimby and
the South Pacific Land Development Company.

A man does what he can, even in a losing cause.

Every little move expressive, so I'll understand.

Well,

this is it, boys.

The last time we hear hula hands.

Every time I hear them sing, it sounds worse.

I like it.

Well, it's been a splendid visit, Charley.

Yeah, it's been a nice vacation, Quimby.

See you again one of these days.

Yeah.

Oh, I almost forgot.

You had to put your signature on these silly papers.

You know, it's a mere technicality.

Yeah, we almost forgot, didn't we?

The South Pacific Land Development Company will mail
you a nice check just as soon as we get started building.

Yeah, you mean building the airstrip right
smack in the middle of my ten acres?

So you located your property, huh?

Good for you, you old sharpie.

And it'll have to be a nice check indeed.

Yeah, well, let's not spoil the farewell
with business talk.

Oh, of course not.

Here, you just put your John Henry right
on the dotted line.

It's for the sake of your native friends.

Yeah, I want to do what's best for them.

You heard from their own lips what they want.

Tourists, hotel, airplanes, progress, prosperity.

Oh, there's just one technical difficulty, Quimby.

I don't own those ten acres.

What?

I sold them to a fisherman named Mr. Aurora.

Charley, you can't do this to me.

Oh, yes, I can.

It makes us even for that fixed kangaroo
fight and the mail a coconut to your

mother scheme and all the other swindles I fell for.

So put that in your coconut and smoke it.

You and your South Pacific Development Company.

Fooey!

Fooey!

Notice something funny about those dames
who did the lovely hula hands number?

Yeah, they're singing the farewell.

Yeah, they know another tune.

Boy,

this looks like a South Sea Island wax museum.

Fellas, you've been back from Coco Fuji for a week.

You're in Bryant Park now, so let's get with the homework.

I finished mine.

I didn't mean you.

She certainly was.

They all were.

Fellas, you've got homework.

Look, you've got to make me a promise.

Next time, take me with you, huh?

This week, you get Mike, Robbie,
and Chip, Steve's Three Little Angels.

But next week, it's Three Little Angels
cast from a different mold, Charlie's Angels.

It's the Fandemonium Weekend that caps off
a whole week in angel heaven.