05x09 - Ed the Race Horse

[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'll endorse.

He's always on a steady course.

Talk to Mr. Ed.

This is the way we wash our hair

Early Monday morning

Oh, hi, Wilbur.

Hi.

Watch out, Wilbur, the floor's wet.

The beauty parlor was closed today,

so I'm doing it myself.

Does he or doesn't he?

Only his hairdresser knows for sure.

Oh, come on, Ed.

Gordon rented a horse, and we're gonna have a little race.

Sorry, Wilbur, I can't go out with a wet tail.

Why not?

Would you?

Come on, this is important.

We made a little bet.

The loser's wife has to cook dinner for all of us.

That's silly.

I don't like his wife's cooking.

Very funny.

I hope you're as fast with your feet as you are with your mouth.

I promise you I'll get to the finish line first.

The only problem we got is the way you ride.

Can you get there with me?

Ouch!

Hey, stop wringing it out.

That's a tail, not a mop.

I'm sorry, Ed.

That feels good.

Look at it, Wilbur.

Isn't that tail beautiful?

The living end.

Come on, let's go.

Go, get up, Cyclone.

Whoa, Ed.

Nice going, Ed.

We must have left Gordon and his rented horse

a half a mile back there.

Looks like he owes me a dinner.

So what?

I still wind up eating hay.

Ed, you ran like greased lightning.

How did you do it?

Three things.

Grit, determination, and a bumblebee in my tail.

Let's go over to the picnic grounds

and grab a hot dog while we wait for Gordon, huh?

Hi, slowpoke.

Gordon, how did you get past us?

Simple. Cyclone and I just went faster.

Yeah, but we don't...

I don't understand. I didn't see you pass us.

We were that blur that passed you

while you were sitting on an old rocking chair.

That wasn't a very sportsmanlike thing to say.

Okay, you won the race.

My wife will cook you that meal.

Fine, and if you plan to join us in time for dinner,

you better leave that plug here and walk home.

Come on, Cyclone.

You let him call me a plug and a rocking chair.

Well, he was wrong, Ed. You're not a rocking chair.

Oh, so I'm a plug?

Remember, you said it.

I demand a return match tomorrow.

Well, Ed, do you think you can win?

If you don't load up on that dinner tonight,

I don't need a fat jockey.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

who's the fastest horse of all?

You are, Ed.

Then how come I lost?

Good evening, Ed.

Oh, hi.

Carol just cooked a great dinner for the Kirkwoods.

I'm hoping you win tomorrow so Winnie can cook for us.

Well, what did you eat, Wilbur?

Oh, don't worry, don't worry.

Gordon ate just as much as I did.

With him, food turns to energy.

With you, it turns to lead.

Look, I'm counting on you to win tomorrow.

But if you don't, be a good sport.

Lose with a smile.

I'd rather win with a sneer.

Oh, I should never have lost to Cyclone today.

Ed, stop crying over spilled hay.

And you gotta think positive.

Just say to yourself,

a horse that won't be beat can't be beat.

A horse that won't be beat can't be beat.

Good.

I just hope Cyclone isn't saying the same thing.

Oh, no!

Ha, ha, ha!

Ha, ha, ha!

I would have beaten Cyclone today except for one thing.

What's that?

I'm a slow plug.

You know, we were ahead again at the start.

Suddenly, we reached the finish line,

and there's Cyclone.

I can't figure it.

Neither can I, unless he's got a twin brother.

No, no.

How would Gordon be there?

He doesn't have any twin brother.

Well, there's only one other explanation.

What's that?

I'm a slow plug.

No, you're not.

There must be some way you can beat him.

I could outsmart Cyclone.

Use my brains.

You mean like challenging him to a debate?

I'm not giving up.

A horse that won't be beat can't be beat.

Right.

Well, you, uh,

you mean you want to race Cyclone again tomorrow?

I sure do.

Ed, you've got a real fighting heart.

Yep.

Too bad I don't have legs to match.

Oh, Carol.

I feel awful letting you do all the cooking.

Why don't you let me help?

No, thanks, Winnie.

My Wilbur is a true sport.

When he loses a bet,

he insists on his wife paying off.

Well, if it makes you feel better, dear,

my husband loves your dinners.

I'll tell you one thing, Winnie.

I sure am glad that this racing business

is over.

No, it isn't.

We're racing again tomorrow.

There's a horse race on this channel.

You can watch and see how they run.

We might find out what you're doing wrong.

I know what's wrong.

Then what?

Some horses were born to run.

I was born to eat, sleep, and smooch.

That's not true.

Maybe your stride is just a little...

There's the race start.

Now watch that horse in the lead.

Just take a good look at her form, huh?

Yeah.

What a form.

96-43-96.

You know what I mean, that is?

I mean, how do you think she goes so fast?

Fear.

Fear?

The horse behind her is trying to get her phone number.

Forget about that.

Just watch.

See how she raises those front legs up high

and then jams them hard into the turf?

Why can't you do that?

Flat feet.

Will you watch and learn?

Look, Wilbur, that jockey used a whip.

Operator, get me the SPCA.

Wild Jockey Division.

Hey, cut that out.

Gee, I can't get you to concentrate for a minute, can I?

Don't worry, Wilbur.

I'm sure I'm gonna win tomorrow.

Are you sure, Ed?

I mean, are you really sure?

So sure, you can bet your wife on it.

Go ahead.

Whoa!

How does he do it?

You don't have to tell him to stop, Wilbur.

That's the thing he does best.

Again, I didn't see you go past me.

What did you feed that horse, high-octane hay?

What kept you, Wilbur?

You know, I think you'd be better off if you carried him.

Did you see that?

He deliberately pushed you into me.

You should teach your horse better manners.

I suppose that's good manners,

making fun of a defeated opponent

to his face.

He didn't know I was making fun of him.

Then why did he push me?

Because he's a sore loser.

What am I saying?

Well, you want to try it again tomorrow?

No, thanks.

You've beaten us three times.

That's good enough for me.

I don't blame you.

Well, that's one more dinner you owe me.

Oh, by the way, Wilbur,

when your wife serves us tonight,

would you see the wine is room temperature?

Last night it was a wee bit warm.

The mood Carol's in, you better show up with a food taster.

Carol, this is the last meal

you're going to have to serve Gordon.

Now, I told Gordon this is the last race.

What are you going to serve him tonight?

I don't exactly know how to say it,

but if you're stuck an apple in your mouth,

you guessed it.

That's my little girl.

That great sense of humor.

Just like I was saying to Gordon, I said,

one thing about Carol.

One thing?

She's a good sport.

I said, look at me.

I've lost three races in a row.

Three races.

But does my little wife complain?

Does she complain?

You bet she does.

Hello there, fella. What are you doing?

Yeah, who are you?

Ed?

What are you doing out here alone in the dark?

I don't want anybody to see my face.

Come on, Ed.

It's a pretty face.

Yeah.

The face of a loser.

When I was born, Dad wanted a girl.

I think he got one.

Anyway, I run like one.

I couldn't beat Cyclone if I were sitting on a race horse.

Come on, Ed.

Smile.

Let's see those pretty dimples.

Not until I beat Cyclone.

It's that important to you, huh?

It sure is.

There's nothing worse than a horse

getting a horse laugh from another horse.

Well, I don't know, Ed.

You'll have to get in shape.

Look at that bay window.

You know what the next size saddle is after yours?

Stylish stout.

Help me get in shape, Wilbur, please.

I just have to beat Cyclone.

Yeah?

All right, Ed.

I'll get you into shape.

But I warn you.

From now on, Ed, it's gonna be work, work, work.

Oh, there'll be times when you'll ache in every joint.

When your tired muscles are crying out for rest.

But I'm gonna force you to keep going.

Oh, from time to time, you'll hate me, Ed.

You will hate me.

But I promise you this.

If you do what I say, if you obey my rules,

you will be worthy of the name...

Race Horse.

Gee, golly.

Can we start working out now, coach?

Not tonight, Ed.

I've been cooking all day, and I'm bushed.

Down. Up.

Down. Up.

Down. Attaboy, Ed.

Down. Up.

Keep milling those pounds off, Ed.

You'll soon be able to wear Carol's slacks.

Keep losing that weight, Ed.

I want to see a pony walk out of there.

Today, Ed, we're gonna loosen up those old leg muscles.

Yeah, you were right, Wilbur.

I am starting to hate you.

Ha-ha, good.

That means you're rounding in the condition, huh?

Uh...

All right, Ed.

Yeah.

Here we go now.

Jump!

Uh!

Uh!

Uh!

Uh!

Oh, sorry, Wilbur.

My hopes are all thumbs today.

Ah.

Ed, those two weeks of hard work have really paid off.

Oh, you feel like a race horse.

Let's hope I run like one.

Something bothering you, Ed?

Well, yes.

I'm not comfortable running in horseshoes.

You're not?

They're for horses.

I don't know if I'm racing or dragging anchor.

Huh.

How do you want to run against Cyclone? Barefoot?

Well, I thought maybe I'd wear something else

instead of horseshoes.

Yeah? Like what?

Like sneakers.

Sneakers?

I'm gonna need all the help I can get, Wilbur.

Sneakers?

Please, Wilbur, please.

For your little horsey.

Well, all right, Ed.

I'll buy you sneakers.

And if it rains, you can always wear galoshes.

How do you do?

I'd like to, uh, buy some shoes.

Oh, well, uh, I'm sorry, sir, but we're just closing.

Well, this is an emergency. I'd certainly appreciate it.

Oh, well, very well. Won't you sit down, please?

Oh, the shoes are not for me.

No? Well, then, who are they for, uh, your wife?

Uh, no.

Your son?

No, uh, they're for my horse.

Your horse?

Yes, I left him in the parking lot.

Oh.

Do you validate for horses?

Look, mister, I've had a pretty rough day.

I'm in no mood for jokes.

Oh, this isn't a joke. No, I'm buying.

If your horse needs shoes, why don't you take him to a blacksmith?

To buy sneakers?

To buy...

Sneakers?

Uh, two pair.

I don't know exactly what size he takes,

but then I noticed you've got a sign on the window that says,

we fit any feet?

The reason I want two pair is because he's got four feet.

While you're at it, would you throw in a couple of pair of those

matching argyle socks? That'd be nice.

And how about four pairs of 12-foot shoelaces?

No, something a little shorter.

See, I don't want him tripping over the laces.

He's got a big race tomorrow.

In sneakers.

Why don't you, uh, sit down?

Thank you.

Until I call you doctor.

Do you remember his name?

Yeah, Dr. Alexander.

Never mind.

Look, if you're going to take that attitude,

I'll take my horse's business elsewhere.

If this is supposed to be a practical joke,

like some of those things they pull on TV,

I'm not going to go...

Say, we're not on TV now, are we?

One of those hidden camera things?

Remember, I didn't tell you anything.

Yeah?

Yes, sir.

Yes, indeed.

Why don't you bring your horse right in, mister?

Dalzell Shoe Store aims to please.

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

Dalzell Shoe Store aims to please.

Well, that's a fine-looking horse you got there, mister.

And I think we can fit it.

If we can get his foot up on the stool.

He seemed to understand what I said.

Do you talk loud enough?

Yes, well, let's not keep the horse waiting.

Uh-huh.

My, my, he has a small hoof, doesn't he?

Yes, runs in the family.

His mother's feet were so small,

she could have worn ballet slippers.

Sad fact.

Oh, that's very cute.

My wife has a small foot, too.

Her name is Eileen.

And we have two beautiful children.

Uh, mister Dalzell.

Yes?

I believe my horse is entitled to one of those balloons.

Balloon?

He's only eight years old.

Oh, well, no problem, sir.

No problem.

We always give our little four-legged friends balloons.

What balloon?

Uh, the blue one.

Yes, the blue one.

He wants a blue one.

Thank you.

And, uh, two pair of white sneakers.

White sneakers, yes.

Well, let's just try these on for size.

Yeah.

You mean you really want to race Mr. Ed against Cyclone again?

Yeah.

Yeah, and the loser takes the winner to the best restaurants in town

for a full week.

That's the bet.

Well, how about our wives?

No, we'll just bet for meals.

All right.

I'll see you at the bridal path.

That a good fellow.

Well, here we are, Gordon.

All ready?

I...

I don't believe it.

What's he wearing?

What's who wearing?

Ed, what's he got on his feet?

Oh, all those.

They're, uh, sneakers.

Now I've seen everything.

Why don't you put him in a pair of running shorts?

Gordon, I'll thank you not to make fun of Ed.

Oh, I know, but sneakers?

Well, we didn't want to tear up the turf with spike shoes.

Oh, you're beautiful.

Beautiful.

Oh, do you want to start the race in the usual way,

or does your horse want a crouching start?

Take a good look at Ed's face now,

because that's the last you're going to see of that end for a long time.

Come on, Ed.

Okay, Gordon, are you ready?

Go! Get out of sight! Go!

One of them is coming to the finish line.

I think it's the Colonel.

No, it looks like Wilbur.

It is Wilbur!

Wilbur!

Whoa, Ed.

We won!

Gordon isn't here yet.

That's right, honey, you finally won.

Wilbur, why is Mr. Ed wearing those ridiculous sneakers?

What's ridiculous about them?

Men wear sneakers when they run a race.

You're lucky Mr. Ed isn't a filly.

He'd be running in high heels.

Oh!

Oh, Cyclone.

Wilbur.

How did you...

How did you get here so fast?

Never mind that.

How is it you finished the race coming from that direction?

Oh, oh.

Well, uh...

Colonel, isn't that the shortcut we take when we go picnicking?

Aha!

No wonder you've been beating Ed every time.

You've been sneaking off the bridle path.

Well now, Wilbur, as man to man, you understand.

All those races were just in fun.

Speaking of fun, Gordon, here.

What's that?

A list of all the restaurants you'll be taking us to this week.

One thing about me, Gordon, I'm not a cheapskate.

You'll find those are the most expensive restaurants in town.

Good morning, Ed.

And how is America's greatest racehorse?

Well, how's America's heaviest jockey?

A little heavier this morning.

See, Gordon took us to a great restaurant last night.

I really packed it away.

Oh, that's swell.

Say, Wilbur, do you think we could challenge the Colonel to a night race?

A night race? Why?

Because I'm dying to try out these bedroom slippers.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

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.