12x24 - Whatever Happened To Ernie?

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© BF-WATCH TV 2021 Okay.

Okay, Bob.

Steve, are those the Condell figures?

Yeah.

Here's the item I was talking about right there.

Well, looks like I've done it again.

Again?

I'm supposed to be running this place.

At least that's what it says on the door.

And my mind's on another planet.

Anything I can do to help?

No, no, thanks, Steve, anyway.

And thanks for finding that error.

Saved me a lot of embarrassment.

Steve.

How old's your youngest boy?

Ernie's 17.

And I suppose he has the long hair and the disrespect
and the disgusting clothes and the bare feet, too, right?

Well, no.

No?

Well, no.

Well, his hair might be a little longer than it
was a couple of years ago, but aside from that...

Steve, what did you do right?

Tonight?

Yeah, I told Anderson I thought it'd be all right
with you if they'd drop by for coffee after dinner.

Well, this has the sound of a command performance.

No, not really.

It's more one set of parents dropping by to
see if another set of parents has any answers.

Two?

A boy named Gordon.

Gordon Anderson?

You mean the model son who went to military academy?

Who had those lovely manners and knew how
to speak to parents and how to ask the

little girls for the next dance at the cotillion?

Oh, that sounds a little like gloating, honey.

Well, not really.

It's just that Sylvia kept rubbing it in.

Gloating, exactly, but, well, I certainly am surprised.

Yeah, I am too.

Well?

What happened to the kid?

Charley, instead of listening at the door,
why don't you just come in in the first place?

Well, because some conversations don't
turn out that interesting.

Anyway, the Andersons should be here about eight, huh?

Yeah, I heard all that.

Their kid turned rancid on them.

We'll find that all out when they get here, Charley.

Now, you can do us a big favor.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.

Stay out of it.

Charley, it's just that the Andersons are probably very
sensitive and self-conscious about this particular subject.

You know?

You know, you two must think I got a big
mouth or something.

Okay, okay, I'll stay out of it.

But if the Andersons ask me a direct
question, they're going to get an earful.

They will, too.

Hello, Sylvia.

Come on in.

Bob, nice to meet you.

How are you?

Come in, Anderson.

Here, let me take your coat.

Oh, thank you.

Here, come and sit right down here.

Thank you.

You know, why we ever go out to dinner, I'll never know.

We have a perfectly good cook at home, and yet we insist
on going out and paying those outrageous prices for...

Oh, what's that word for it, Robert?

I don't know what the word for your shrimp
Louie was, but the word for my fettuccine was Bill.

Oh, look, Robert.

Barbara has cookies for us.

Yes, well, we'll just put those out of
your reach, and the nuts, too.

Your shrimp Louie put you over the calorie
count for the week.

Barbara, Barbara, Steve knows why we came
over, and I suppose he's told you.

Last year, our son was a good kid.

No genius, mind you, but he came home with his C's and B's.

Then all of a sudden, he came unglued at the seams.

His hair got shaggy.

You know how you do.

You say, Gordon, get a haircut,
and he doesn't, and before you know it,

your own flesh and blood looks like Rasputin's.

He actually has so much hair, he looks
like he's wearing a helmet.

Well, you, uh, you haven't mentioned anything except hair.

No, it's the whole ball of wax, Barbara.

He burns incense in his room, and he
hasn't worn a pair of shoes for two months.

And his blue jeans have patches on them.

Well, uh, I think the patches are sort of
the in thing now, aren't they?

Well, I'll tell you what isn't in right now, Steve.

Disrespect.

He hardly speaks to me at all,
and he simply ignores his mother.

And he's absolutely insolent to the servants.

Oh, sorry.

Ernie, uh, you know Mr. and Mrs. Anderson?

Sure, hi.

Hi, Ernie.

Hello.

Oh, my room got straightened out
yesterday, so I can't find anything.

Mom, did you happen to notice where you put my barbell?

Oh, yes, it was too heavy to lift,
so, uh, Charlie rolled it under your bed.

Thanks.

I'm building up my deltoids.

Good night.

Good night, Ernie.

Building up his deltoids.

Do you know how normal that sounds?

Bob, uh, Sylvia, it could easily be that Barbara
and I are the wrong ones to talk to about Gordon.

Maybe.

But if that's any example of what you're
doing wrong, we'd like you to deal us in.

How old is Gordon?

Almost 16.

He was always so sweet and loving and tender.

The point is that within less than a year,
we don't know him at all.

And frankly, we wonder why it happened to
us and didn't happen to you.

Robert means a lot to me.

If it happened to us and didn't happen to
you, what did we do wrong?

They know what I mean, Sylvia.

Well?

Well, Bob, that's really hard to answer.

I mean, except for the little bit you've
told us, we don't know much about Gordon.

I mean, what about his friends?

Well, when they're all together in the
same room, they look like a herd of buffalo.

Oh, that isn't quite fair.

His friends are, when we're permitted to
see them at all, strange.

No matter what we say, they give us those little
pitying smiles like we were members of a different species.

But there's more to it than that.

Yes.

We don't know what he does.

We don't know if he's involved
in... Well, we don't know anything.

Have you talked to him?

We try.

We get the pitying smiles.

We get the evasions.

We get the flippant remarks.

Hey, you want to know what I think?

Charlie.

Don't try to stop me, Steve.

I got a solution.

You want to hear it?

Of course.

Belt him.

Beg your pardon?

Belt him right on the chops.

Sylvia, he means that we should hit him.

Right.

Quit talking and start belting.

Well, good night, folks.

Well, Sylvia, I wouldn't take Charlie too seriously.

You know, he's never laid a hand on one of
the kids in his life.

Too bad.

For a minute there, I thought he had something.

You were saying that he burns incense in this room.

Thanks.

I don't think there's anything so wrong in that, do you?

Well, no.

Oh, a lot of kids are reaching back for
the philosophies of the Near East.

And you said that the Andersons seem to be
hung up on their boy's hair?

Oh, we heard more word descriptions about
that than anything else.

I mean, you know, that he looked like he had a helmet
on, that he looked like Rasputin, and all the rest of it.

I mean, they're really desperate people.

Why would they try to dump all their
problems into your lap?

Because they haven't got any place else to turn.

I mean, I must say that when Ernie came
thundering down those stairs, and he

sounded so normal, that, well,
it was like a breath of fresh air.

They just looked so envious.

And I suppose Uncle Charley came in and
told the Andersons to belt their son.

That's right.

You're kidding.

I was just joking.

I got the solution.

You want to hear it?

Belt him!

Hi.

Hey, did I tell Uncle Charley I was going
to eat in the cafeteria today?

Well, I, uh, I guess you must have.

Apparently he didn't make you lunch.

Why, what was that for?

Well, once in a while when a mother's cup
runneth over, she just wants to show it.

Oh, cool, uh, well, does your cup runneth over
enough to hit me with an extra dollar for lunch?

Well, there's a girl named Suzanne.

You tell Suzanne that the extra fudge whip
sundae is on me, okay?

And my purse is in the living room.

Thanks, Mom.

See you guys.

Hi.

Now, that's what I call a normal boy.

He gets an extra dollar out of his mother
when she's in a mellow mood.

Hello?

Oh, hi, darling.

Yes, well, Katie and I were just talking about last night.

Tonight?

Oh, Steve, I just don't think I can.

I know.

All right.

Yeah.

Okay.

Bye.

I can tell by the look on your face that
wasn't the best news you've ever heard.

Well, apparently, we're going to repeat
last night's therapy.

At their house.

Oh, hi, Mr. Anderson.

Yeah, he's here.

Dad?

It's Mr. Anderson.

He said he just had an idea or something.

Oh, Ernie.

I can't tell anymore by the way you dress.

Are you going out tonight?

Yeah, with Suzette Musterbond.

We're going to mess around down at the skating rink.

Fine.

Hello, Bob.

Yeah, we're just about ready to leave.

Oh, uh, well, I don't think so, Bob.

He has a date, for one thing.

Yeah, I understand, but...

Well, I'll ask him, Bob, but I can't guarantee that...

No.

Well, either way, we'll see you in a little while.

All right.

Goodbye.

Bob Anderson.

Yeah, he wants us to bring Ernie along.

As an example of what a boy should be?

I guess so.

Oh, Steve, now you know that never works out.

I know, but at least I can give Ernie a
chance to turn it down.

Say, Ernie, uh, Mr. Anderson's idea concerns you.

Steve?

Well, he has a son he's worried about.

If I had kids, I'd worry about him, too.

Well, it's more than that.

The boy seems to be showing a lot of
symptoms of, uh, well, you know.

And Mr. Anderson wondered if you couldn't
drop by with us, and, uh, frankly,

I don't know what he hopes to accomplish.

And, Dad, I have a date with Suzette.

Yeah, I know.

I just said I'd mention it to you.

I'd like to help, but a woman scorned is
a, uh, well, whatever they say.

Well, she's waiting for me at the skating
rink, so I can't even call her up.

Yeah, well, that's okay.

I didn't promise him anything.

Have a good time.

Good night.

Dad, uh, did you notice what you just did?

No, what?

You didn't haul me off to the Andersons.

You asked me.

Tell Mr. Anderson that's what he ought to try doing.

Okay.

Good night.

Good night.

Thank you.

I do talk to him, Steve.

At least I try to talk to him.

Have one of the cookies, Barbara.

They're almost no calories and they're 58% natural barley.

They don't care anything about the silly
cookies and the barley.

Sorry, dear.

We don't usually yell at each other,
but this thing is so, so frustrating.

Where is Gordon now?

Who knows?

Whenever you ask him where he's going, he just says, out.

We don't accept that at home.

If you don't mind my saying so, Sylvia.

Of course not.

Don't qualify what you have to say, Barbara.

We're here to listen.

Gordon?

Come here, please.

I said come here, please.

This is Mrs. Douglas.

This is Mr. Douglas.

He's one of our top engineers at the plant.

Hello, Gordon.

Dear, Mr. Douglas said hello.

Hi.

Hi.

Come sit with us for a minute, dear.

No, thanks.

There's nothing so urgent that you can't
spend a minute or two with us, is there, Gordon?

We, uh, we have a boy at home about your age, Gordon.

I guess he's a year older.

His name is Ernie.

Well, great evening, Gordon.

Chance.

Oh, good, dear.

Have another cookie.

They're mostly natural barley.

Gordon, uh, do you like baseball?

He used to.

Let the boy answer for himself, dear.

Tell Mr. Douglas if you like baseball or not, Gordon.

No.

Now what?

No, I don't like baseball.

Gordon, go to your room, please.

He was deliberately insolent.

Bob, uh, tell me something honestly, will you?

Sure, Steve.

Are you always this unbending with a boy, or,
uh, did it start, uh, as a result of the change in him?

A little of both, I guess.

It isn't easy for Robert to be that truthful about himself.

I'm proud of you, dear.

Steve, I honestly don't think we created
the monster you just saw.

I think he was influenced from outside.

Although I admit I haven't always been
exactly the jolly father image.

He's not a monster, Bob.

He, he's just wearing the badges that he
sees around him, that's all.

True.

I know that.

But I don't know what else he does.

All I can put up with the hair
and the... bare feet and all that.

But if he's on something dangerous, if he's...

Don't say it, Robert.

We have to say it, Sylvia.

We can't stick our heads in the sand any longer.

Yes, we can.

Let's all have some coffee.

I think it's by the phone.

Why?

Maybe I'll go over there.

You think he can help?

Oh, maybe.

You never know for sure when you're
messing around with teenagers.

See you later.

Bye.

They can talk all they want about us being
a disturbed generation.

But we didn't act like the kids today,
and we didn't look like the kids today.

Steve, there's my high school annual.

That's the graduating class.

Pretty sharp-looking kids, aren't they?

Short hair.

Spotless shirts.

Oh, here you are.

And I see you were wearing the old dirty cords.

Dirty cords?

Yeah, we all wore them.

They were, as you say, Barbara,
one of our badges in those days.

Of course, to be really in, they had to
completely cover your shoes like that.

And you never washed them.

Never?

Never.

We drew pictures on them, and we wrote things all
over them, so your mother wouldn't dare wash them.

Right, Bob?

Okay, Steve.

You made your point.

We were tough on our parents, just like the kids today.

But the worst most of us ever did was
drink a little near beer.

I don't know what Gordon is doing.

I wish there was some way that I could find out.

Hi.

Well, Ernie, you got here.

What happened with the skating?

Dallas, there's that creamed her ankle,
so I thought I'd come over.

Oh.

Oh, come on in, dear.

Have a natural barley health cookie.

Ernie, Mr. Anderson seems to think that if you
were here, maybe you could help solve the situation.

Ernie, our boy's upstairs.

I wondered if you could go up there and
have a talk with him.

About what?

Well, he's just not communicating, Ernie.

What's more than that?

May I lay the cards on the table?

Sure, sir.

It's been a long time since anybody said sir around here.

Ernie, we've lost contact with our boy.

Probably our fault, but the fact remains
we don't know anything about him.

Was he freaked out?

Freaked out?

Freaked out?

Ernie, I'd say in appearance he has freaked out.

His head looks like a b*mb went off in it.

He's wearing all the badges, the beads and
the hair and the patch Levi's and...

Well, what Mr. and Mrs. Anderson are
really worried about is, is he on... Pot?

Right.

We don't know.

Ernie, could you go upstairs and find out what you can?

I don't think that would be too cool.

I mean, some strange kid walks into your
room and you just don't come on like an old buddy.

If you could just talk to Gordon.

Gordon?

Gordon Anderson?

Do you know him, Ernie?

Yeah, he's in the 10th grade at school.

Well, I just didn't connect the name until now.

Oh, you can relax, Mr. Anderson.

I can?

Yeah.

He's okay.

How do you mean, okay, Ernie?

Well, he likes the freaked out look, but it ends there.

You sure?

Well, yes, sir, I'm sure.

Oh, Ernie, I'm so happy you came over tonight.

You have no idea how relieved I am.

How relieved we both are.

Well, I guess that sort of takes care of that, huh?

Um, honey, don't you think it's about time we were leaving?

Yeah, it is getting late.

Oh, I wish you would have gone.

Oh, dear, we're going to have to.

Ernie, what about you?

Some homework?

Yeah, I got a little bit.

Thank you.

Ernie, thank you for coming.

Oh, yeah.

Hi, Charlie.

Oh, hi, Steve.

Hey, uh, who's the sheepdog that Ernie's
playing catch with out there?

That's, uh, Gordon Anderson.

I've seen better looking mattresses.

What's got me bothering with that kid?

Well, Ernie's trying to help Mr. Anderson
change his son's image a little.

He's doing it on his own.

Hi.

Hi.

Hi, Ernie.

It was getting late, so we had to quit.

You know, that's one of the ugliest kids I've ever seen.

And I've seen some lulus in my time.

He's just over expressing himself.

He's gonna get his hair cut a little so he can see
to play catch, and I talked him into tennis shoes.

Well, that's something, Ernie.

Yeah, only tell Mr. Anderson not to expect
any miracles, Dad.

Gordon won't look much different.

Listen, anything is an improvement.

But tell me something, Alice.

What?

Why should that kid listen to you?

Because he's in the 10th grade and I'm a senior?

You know, it's a whole new planet.

Ernie?

Yeah, Dad?

Thanks.

I think I lost him, I guess.

What, aako, what?

Hey, watch what you say.