08x14 - Dog-Gone

[bunniefuu]

To a deluxe apartment
in the sky

We finally got
a piece of the pie

Fish don't fry
in the kitchen

Beans don't burn
on the grill

Took a whole
lot of tryin'

Now we're up
in the big leagues

As long as we live,
it's you and me, baby

There ain't nothin'
wrong with that

To a deluxe apartment
in the sky

We finally got
a piece of the pie

So, Mr. Jefferson,
you say I can't
have a raise, huh?

What? You say
my cooking gives the

garbage can an
upset stomach?

Well, Florence,
you seem to be in a
cheery mood today.

Oh, yeah, I'm in
a good mood.

It didn't bother you
this morning when
George wrote

"welcome" on your
toast and put it
outside the door?

Nah, it was all
in good fun.

What you laughing at?

Hey, Weezy.

Hi, George.

Hey, what's the most
fabulous news
I could ever possibly hear?

Bald heads are
in style?

One of these days
I'm gonna nail
that thing shut.

The louvers?

No.
Florence's mouth.

George, forget Florence.
And tell me
what you're so happy about.

Oh. Well, you know how
long I've been trying

to get Mr. Whittendale
to go in to a
business deal with me?

Well, the old Jefferson charm
is finally paying off.

I ran into him on the
elevator and guess
what he said?

"Down, please?"

After that, Weez,
after that!

I give up, George.
He said he wants to
talk to me.

This is it, Weezy.
The big one.
Partners at last.

Oh, George, I've seen
this happen before.

You get yourself all excited
and then you end up
being disappointed.

Well, that's all
your fault, Weez.

You're the one that
got sick on
our wedding night.

Well, experience taught
me that I sure
didn't miss much.

Thank you, Weez.

Whittendale's gonna be
here any minute

and there's something
I want you to get.

What?
Lost.

Just for a little while,
Weezy. It's business.

Since when can't a woman
get involved in business?

Weez, it's a well-known
fact that women caused
the Great Depression.

Come again?

It's a well-known fact that
women caused
the Great Depression.

No, I meant...

Oh, why bother?

I'm going up to Helen's.

Good, okay. See you.

Florence, I got some
important persons
comin' over.

Did you dust today?

Uh-uh.
Did you vacuum today?

No.

Did you wash
the windows today?

No.
Why the hell not?

Hey, I
was busy, okay?

That's the door, Florence.

And those are your toes.

If you stand up on them,
you can reach the doorknob.

Mr. Whittendale,
come in, come in.

Jefferson, have you ever
met my wife, Lucille?

This lovely creature
is your wife?

You're a lucky man,
Mr. Whittendale.

It's nice of you to
allow us to intrude.

Don't be silly.
My home is your home.

I know. I own the building.

Good one. Good one.

Well, how is
everything down here
on the twelfth floor?

Another good one.

Hey, have a seat.
Here, take a load off.

Oh, thank you, thank you.

Lucille would like to ask
you a few questions,
if you don't mind.

Of course, of course,
Bo. Forgive me.

But the resemblance to
Bo Derek is uncanny.

About those questions?

Fire away.
Ask me anything, Raquel.

There I go again.

Do you have any pets,
Mr. Jefferson?

Yes. Her name's Florence.

Is she a dog?

Well, that's one
man's opinion.

No, actually, Florence
is my maid.

I was just playing a
little joke, Farrah.

I mean, Lucille.

You see,
Mr. Jefferson, I happen
to be a dog lover.

I can tell.

You have canine
written all over your face.

Jefferson, you remember
the other day you said

if there was ever
anything you could
do for me?

That's right. Anything.
Just name it.

My wife's sister
is ill...

Oh, well, look, I mean
I don't have any
medical training,

but I do have faith
in myself.
Let's go.

No. No. No.

I meant we have to
visit her for the weekend

and I was wondering
if you'd take care of our
dog while we're gone.

A dog? That's It?
I'd consider it a favor.

And I never
forget a favor.

What I meant was,
that's it?
Just one dog?

Just Poopsie.

Oh, I was hoping
his name would
be Poopsie.

I just couldn't bear
the thought of
him sleeping in a kennel.

Neither can I.
In fact, Poopsie
can sleep with me.

Weezy won't
mind the couch.

Now, Mr. Whittendale,
let's talk merger.

You two can discuss
business later
when we get back

and make sure
Poopsie is all right.

I hope he won't be
any trouble to you.

How much trouble
could little Poopsie be?

All right, Ralph,
bring him in.

Here, Mr. Jefferson.
Take him. Please.

Oh, Ralph, Poopsie's
ripped your pants.

I'm sorry.

That's all right,
Mr. Whittendale, sir.

They're old pants
and skin grows back.

Thank you, sir.

Those are a few
of Poopsie's
favorite toys.

He just loves to play
fetch the ball,
don't you, dear?

Hey, what a coincidence.

Me and the
little woman play
it all the time.

Bye-bye, Poopsie.
You be a good boy
for Mr. Jefferson.

Thanks again, Jefferson.

If he gives you any
problem, just make
him sit in a corner.

He won't be any problem.

I was talking to Poopsie.

Right. Okay, bye.

Okay, Poopsie.
Now you and me will
get along just fine

as long as we know
who is the master and
who is the dog. Right?

Okay, yes, yes, you are
a guest in my home.

Anything you want, you
just take it, okay?

If you get hungry,
help yourself to
the maid.

All right, what do you
say we tie you out
on the balcony?

Okay, let's visit
the kitchen.

George.

Hi, honey.

George,
I have great news.

Oh, excuse me, Weez.

Florence's toast.

It's the gift
that keeps giving.

So, what's
your good news?

What was that?
Florence's bacon?

Weezy, actually...
George, is there

a dog in here?

A dog? Uh...
You know I'm afraid of dogs.

Yeah, I know.
Well. I, uh...

It sure smells
like a dog's
been in here.

Oh! I know
what that is.

That's Florence's
new perfume.

It's called
Eau de la Benji.

George, is there a
dog in the kitchen?

Not anymore there isn't.
Oh, my God!

Get him out of here!
You tell him that.

George! Get rid of
that thing.

Weezy, he belongs
to the Whittendales!
I don't care.

I'm not getting off
this couch until that thing
is out of here.

Fair enough.
I'll get your nightgown.

Hi, George.
Hi, Louise.

What are you doing up
on the couch?

Move over.

Oh, hi, doggie.
I've always wanted a dog.

Of course, fish are nice.

That dog is vicious.
He could take
off somebody's head.

Really?

Oh, Florence!

Don't be no fool.

What do you want,
Mr. Jefferson?

Set another plate for dinner.

No! That dog is not
staying!

I want it out of here
by the time
we get back tonight.

Back from where?

That's what I was going
to tell you.
Before my heart attack.

Tom was able
to get four tickets for
the Ray Charles concert.

Way to go, big guy!

Ray Charles
is my favorite singer!

I can't
wait to see him.

You think Ray Charles
will sing over here?

Not while that monster's
in here.

Look, the dog is afraid
of Florence

as is anyone with sense.

So it's not
our problem.

While we're at the concert,
Florence could stay with him.

Wrong again,
tiny bald man.

I ain't spending my
evening with no dog.

Can't you lower
your standards?

The dog's willing to.

George,

if the dog stays, you're the
one who's staying with it.

Right, and I'll use
your ticket.

Look, Florence.
I don't like to
pull rank but...

I'm gonna start
gettin' ready.

Oh, Mr. Willis, be brave.

You stay.

Florence, I am the boss,
you are the maid,

and...
And...
And she's gone, George.

I don't believe this.
Four grown people,
stranded on a couch.

Uh, George.
What is it, Willis?

I've got to go to
the bathroom.

Good luck.

Now look, dog.

I've given
you dog food,
I've given you biscuits,

I even gave you
Florence's new dress.

There's nothin' else to
eat in the house.

Okay, you want to
look at television.

No, we don't have cable.

Okay, now what do
you wanna do?

You want to do
something else.

You tell me what
you wanna do.

Oh, not this again.
Okay.

But this time you fetch.

Yay, there it goes.

Hey, way to go.

Bring the ball, that's
a good dog. All right.

Hey! Yay!

Come here, pups.

Give me the ball,
one more time.
Let me see.

Easy on the finger.

Yeah.

Hey.

Hey, dog?

Hey, Poopsie?

Bring the ball.
Poopsie.

Poopsie...

Oh, Poopsie!

Hello, Excelsior Airlines?
I'd like to book a flight...

Anywhere, as long as
it's away from
the Whittendales.

No, this is not
a crank call.

No, I'm telling you...
Hello? Hello?

Ah, Ralph, you're back.

So how did everything
go down at Louie's
Doggie Heaven?

I arranged for Poopsie's
funeral to take place
Tuesday at : p.m.

You have to be out
by : , though,

because they're burying
Thunder the Wonder Turtle.

What's the matter, Ralph?

I'm sorry, sir.
But Poopsie and
I were so close.

Poopsie and I were
close, too.

Oh, please.

I really mean it.
I liked the dog.

Well, it's not my place
to judge you, sir.

Thanks for your
support, Ralph.

Anyway, I appreciate
your making the
burial arrangements, okay?

Yes, sir. It wasn't easy.
It hurt.

And the advance came out
of my pocket.

Which I'm sure you'll want
to settle immediately.

Poopsie...

So sad,

so sad.

You're short bucks, sir.

But life goes on,
sir. Have a nice day.

"Dear Abby.

"I am a dead man.

"Is it nice where you live?"

George?

Hi, Weez.

Is the dog sleeping?

Yeah, I guess
you could say that.

George, did you and
the dog have a
nice, quiet evening?

Great.

You know, I've been thinking.
Dogs aren't so bad.

I mean, you can't pet
a goldfish.

So where is Poopsie,
anyway?

Maybe I can teach him
to shake hands.

Poopsie!

Poopsie knows enough
tricks already.

In fact, I taught him
a new one
tonight. Skydiving.

Oh! Is he good
at it?
Not yet.

Mr. Jefferson,
is something wrong?

Yes. He's upset because
he couldn't

come with us to see
Ray Charles.

If it'll help, I promise
I won't say anything
about our evening.

Yeah, me either.

Except Ray Charles
was never better.

And you know one of the
Raeletts came into the
audience and

picked me to come up on
stage and help 'em with
one of their numbers.

Just think, I had
your ticket.

If you'd been sitting
in that seat...

Nah,

I won't say it.
It'd only depress you.

Weez, Poopsie is gone!
He's gone.

He ran away?

Well, sort of.

What happened?

He didn't bite you?

No, but he bit
something else.

What?

The dust.

George, where is the dog?

Dead.

Dead?
Dead?

I know.

But how?
What happened?

Well, look, Weezy, I was
just sitting right here on
the couch, right.

And me and Poopsie
were playing go fetch,

so I accidentally
threw the ball and
it went over the balcony.

Poopsie jumped over
the balcony after the ball...

But... His last catch was
a great one.

The dog jumped
off our balcony?

It was an accident, Weez!

What am I gonna do?
The Whittendales
will k*ll me!

Now, George, calm down.

You've got
a couple of days

before the Whittendales
come back.

You've got time to
think of something.

Of course. I got
plenty of time.

I got all the time
in the world.

Time's up.

Awfully sorry to
bother you again.

Yeah. Me, too.

I just couldn't bear
to be away from
my Poopsie.

When Charles and I
stopped for gas,
I phoned my sister.

She seemed to
be doing better.

So we turned right
around and came back.

Lucille figured her
sister could get

her transfusion from
someone else.

I missed my dog.

Of course you did.

I'd like you to
meet Louise.

She's my next of kin.

Nice to meet you.
Thank you.

Hello, Mrs. Whittendale.

Where's my Poopsie?

I feel in the mood for
a little game of fetch.

Oh, I think he's had
enough of that
for one day.

Here, sit down.
Have a drink.
Have .

No, thank you, Jefferson.
We don't drink.

Not yet.

Mr. Jefferson, I didn't
come here to chat.
I want my dog.

Poopsie! Come to momma,
sweetheart.

He ain't gonna come.

Why? What did you
say to him?

Fetch.

Charles, what is this
person babbling about?

Tell them, George.

All right, all right.
I'll tell them the truth.

Well, see.

Right after you two left,
Poopsie got
real depressed.

The dog got
depressed?

Yes, I've never seen
anything like it before.

He was sniffing.
His eyes were all red.

He wouldn't eat,
he let his
appearance go.

He stopped answering
the phone.

You know what else?

Then I caught him going
through the
medicine cabinet.

And finally Weezy here
found him with his
head in the oven.

Right, Weez?

George...
Don't talk.

I'm a little choked
up myself.

Where, where is my Poopsie?

Charles, something
awful has happened!

Be strong, Lucille.

Look, Mrs. Whittendale,

you couldn't have known
what he'd do after you left.

I won't let you
blame yourself.

Blame myself?
See, you're starting already.

Uh, perhaps the words
of the immortal song
would apply.

What song?

"You picked a fine time
to leave me, Lucille."

Just trying to help.

Tell me the truth. Is he...

Is he?
As a doornail.

There, there, Lucille.

He took a leap of love.

Another tragic
case of doggie su1c1de.

My Poopsie!

Mrs. Whittendale,
I know he'd want
you to have this.

Charles.
Yes, dear?

I want you to
hurt this man.

Jefferson,
let's talk.

I never had a dog.

Just a son.

Is he dead?

Why, no.

Then shut up.

Okay, now, Mr. Whittendale,
look. We're both businessmen.

We're used to
setbacks.

We're tough men.

Look, Jefferson...
Please don't ruin me!

Control yourself, Jefferson.

Oh, God, why aren't dogs
born with wings?

It's so unfair. Birds are.

Get hold of
yourself, man.

Please, don't take
my money away.

I'm not going to take
your money away,

in fact, I can't thank
you enough for what
you've done.

You've done me
a huge favor.

I try.

Believe me, Jefferson,
I... I like dogs.

Me too, me too.

But Poopsie was
just plain mean.

He never met a man he
didn't bite. He was
a vicious animal, Jefferson.

I would
have gotten rid of him
but my wife loved him.

And when she gets upset,
she's even more dangerous.

You've made me a
happy man.

Happy enough to make
a business deal together?

Well, I do have an
opportunity coming up

that might be
mutually profitable.

Well, after what I did
for you today,
you do owe me one.

Charles, I want to
go home now.

Mrs. Whittendale,

I know It's hard to
think of these things

at a time like this,
but while you were gone

I took the liberty of
making burial arrangements at
Lou's Doggie Heaven.

I know...

But look on the
bright side, you still
have your health.

Mr. Jefferson, you are
a horrible,
horrible man.

I can live with that.

Charles, I forbid you to
have any dealings
with that fungus.

Mrs. Whittendale, have
you ever actually
met a fungus?

Why no.

Then shut up!

Your wife's a little
upset now.

But we're not gonna let that
interfere with our mutually
beneficial business deal,

are we, Chuck?

Oh, yes, we are.

Say what?

Jefferson, you might want
to know why I married
Mrs. Whittendale.

Her angelic face?
Be serious.

She's loaded.
Bingo.

She controls % of
Whittendale Enterprises.

She could fire me.
In fact, her name's
Whittendale.

I changed mine when
I got married.

So you see, Jefferson,

% of me likes you,

but % of me hates you.

So as far as I'm
concerned, you're a
fungus. Have a good day.

George, I hate
to say this.

But you got exactly
what you deserved.

What're you talking
about, Weez?

You're already a rich man.

But are you
ever satisfied?
No.

You're always
trying to squeeze
an extra dollar

out of anything or anyone
that comes along.

I hope you learned
something this time.

I sure did, Weez.

It's Mrs. Whittendale
I should have been after.

She is the one
with the bucks.
Oh!