03x10 - Dennis Is a Genius

[bunniefuu]

-Hi Mom!

Hi Dad!

-Dennis, don't slam the--

[slam]

-I bet you can't

guess what this is.

-It looks like an

old cabinet shelf.

-Nope.

-I'll bet it's the

bottom of a scooter.

-Nope.

You're both wrong.

It's a diving board

for our bath tub.

[theme music]

-And that is the result.

-But Ms. Perkins, there

must be some mistake.

-There can't be, Mrs. Mitchell.

The intelligence

tests were given

to every child in

his class, and they

were graded

electronically, by machine.

-But Dennis, a genius?

I can't believe it.

-I must admit, I was a

little surprised myself.

-But it still seems to me that

if Dennis really were a genius,

someone would have discovered

it long before this.

-Not necessarily, Mrs. Mitchell.

Unfortunately under our

system of education,

the abilities of

exceptional children,

particularly the

young ones, often

go unnoticed far too long.

-Well, I don't suppose we

should be too surprised.

We-- we've always

known Dennis had

a genius for certain things,

such as getting into trouble.

-All I could hear

was the word trouble.

-You're in for it this

time, Dennis Mitchell.

-What are you gonna do, Dennis?

Run away from home?

-Jeepers, I don't know.

-I ran away once and

had a swell time.

-Yeah?

Where'd you run

away to, Seymour?

-Our pantry.

Hey, what's the big idea?

-Girls never get in trouble.

-They don't have to, Margaret.

Just being a girl's

about the worst trouble

that could happen to anybody.

-Is that so?

-My mom wanted a baby girl

but I wanted a cocker spaniel.

-What'd you get, Seymour?

-A dumb little baby sister

who can't even sit up.

-That's the trouble

with parents.

They always get what they want.

-Boy, look at them

sitting there.

They sure look

serious, don't they.

-Well, I must be running along.

I just wanted you to know what

an exceptional child you have.

-Well, that's very thoughtful

of you, Ms. Perkins.

-But Ms. Perkins, there's still

one thing I don't understand.

If Dennis is such a

genius, why does he

have so much trouble

with his homework?

-Well, I'm afraid a

child with Dennis' IQ

simply doesn't find his

homework challenging enough.

-That may be, but

some of his homework

certainly gives me a bad time.

-Bye.

-Bye, Ms. Perkins.

-Bye, Ms. Perkins.

And thank you.

-Well, I'll be dog gone.

Dennis, a genius.

-Well, children grow and change.

Oh, but Henry, we

must be very careful

not to let this go to his head.

Oh, you're absolutely

right, dear.

-I didn't do it.

I didn't do it!

-Didn't do what?

-Whatever Ms.

Perkins said I did.

I wasn't even in

school that day.

-Dennis, do you remember

that intelligence

test you took at

school last week?

-I sure do.

They said you couldn't

flunk that test no matter

how dumb you were.

-You didn't fail it, dear.

In fact, you got almost

the highest grade possible.

-Jeepers, I did?

I must be pretty smart, huh.

-Now, don't go

getting cocky on me

just because you

got a genius score.

-Genius?

Is that good, dad?

-Henry Mitchell.

Me and my big mouth.

-You mean I'm smart

like Einstein?

-Well, according to the

test, I-- I guess so.

-I'm a living genius.

Hey everybody, I'm a genius.

I'm a genius!

-You.

-Hey everybody, I'm a genius.

I'm a living genius.

Dennis Mitchell, you're

making the whole thing up.

-I am not.

That's why Ms.

Perkins came over.

-Wowie.

Gee whiz.

Dennis is a genius.

What's a genius?

-It means I'm chock full of

brains I never even knew,

Seymour.

-Geez.

-Jeepers, Tommy.

Now I don't feel so bad

about losing that bubble gum?

-What?

What bubblegum?

-That bubblegum I left stuck to

that old test paper my mistake

but I turned it in.

Hey, what you doing, Margaret?

-He could be a

genius, all right.

His head's shaped oddly enough.

-I told you I was.

-I never seen a

real genius before.

-Me neither.

-My goodness gracious.

-You know something?

My head doesn't feel

any different at all.

Come on, g*ng.

Let's play a game of catch.

What you waitin' for, Tommy?

-Um, no thanks, Dennis.

I think I better

be getting home.

-How about you, Seymour?

-No thanks.

I gotta run home and tell my

baby sister I know a genius.

-Come on, Margaret.

I've got no other choice.

-Well, uh, no thank you, Dennis.

I really must be running along.

-Jeepers.

Hi, Fremont!

I bet you don't mind

playing catch with a genius.

-I've got it, honey.

We can enter him in a quiz

contest and then I can retire.

-Oh Henry, I just

can't get over it.

-Well, we're just going to have

to accept the fact that we're

the parents of a genius.

[knocking]

-Oh, Mr. Wilson.

Come on in.

-Mitchell.

I just hate to complain about

Dennis, but this morning, I--

-Mr. Wilson, have you heard?

-Oh, hello Alice.

Have I heard what?

-Well, about Dennis.

It seems he's

something of a genius.

-Oh?

What kind of trouble

is he in this time?

-No, he a-- he achieved the

highest mark of any child

his age in an intelligence test.

-Oh?

What did he do, take

the kindergarten test?

-But it's true, Mr. Wilson.

Ms. Perkins, his

teacher, was just here

and she gave us

the exciting news.

-He-- A-- You mean he--

I-- Oh, no, Mitchell.

It isn't true.

-Absolutely.

-Great Scott.

Dennis, a genius.

-Are you all right, Mr. Wilson?

-Uh.

Well-- Well, I could use

a glass of water, Alice.

-Of course.

-I can't believe it.

A-- A genius.

A gen-- You mean

that boy is-- is

more intelligent

than you or even I?

-And practically anyone

else you could name

-Oh great Scott.

-Here you are, Mr. Wilson.

-Dennis.

A genius.

-Mr. Wilson.

He certainly was

surprised, wasn't he?

-He certainly was.

-Hi, Mr. Wilson!

-Oh, hello Dennis.

-You hear about all those

brains nobody ever knew I had?

-Yes I-- I heard.

-You short of water at

your place, Mr. Wilson?

-I can't believe it.

I simply can't believe it.

-Are you feeling all

right, Mr. Wilson?

-Oh, I feel just fine, Dennis.

Yes, just fine.

I-- Uh-- Oh, Martha.

Oh Martha!

-Thank you Mrs. Mitchell.

I'd like to thank

you both for letting

me come over on

such a short notice.

-Oh, it's our

pleasure, Dr. Heydon.

-It isn't every day that

we have an authority

on child education come

to interview our son.

Cream?

-Oh yes, thank you.

-Dennis.

DENNIS (OFFSCREEN): Coming!

-Son, this is Dr. Heydno.

He'd like to ask

you a few questions.

-About my new brains?

-That's correct, young man.

Come.

Sit down here by me.

Now, to start with,

something simple.

Here's a picture of a house.

Tell me, what's wrong here?

-There's no television antenna.

-Yes.

But aside from that, what's

wrong with the picture?

-Well, the shadow of

this tree goes this way

and the shadow of that

three does that way.

-Perfectly right.

Now.

We have here a diagram.

Now, only one of these

three holes in this wall

leads through a

maze of passageways

to this piece of cheese

at the other end.

Now, if you were a smart mouse,

which of these three holes

would you go through?

-The one that's too

small for the cat.

-The answer is

perfectly correct.

-It is?

-Yes.

You see, only this third

whole, which is the smallest,

would lead the mouse to his

objective at the other end.

Your son's subconscious grasped

the situation immediately.

-Jeepers.

I guess that makes me a whole

lot smarter than most mouses,

doesn't it?

-I guess it does, dear.

-Now, we have here

a little puzzle.

When I say go,

let's see how long

it takes you to

put them together.

Now get ready, get set--

-You mean like this?

-Amazing.

-Jeepers.

I got a tougher

puzzle than this free

with a box of sticky candy.

-His subconscious again?

-Precisely.

But I assure you,

all puzzles would

be equally simple

for this child.

-Do you want me to show you how

to do anything else, doctor?

-No, I don't think that'll

be necessary, young man.

-Can I go upstairs now, Mom?

I've got a submarine in

trouble in the bathtub.

-Of course dear.

-Bye.

-Amazing.

You both must be

very proud of him.

-Oh, we are.

We're still trying to

figure out which one of us

he got his brains

from, though, doctor.

-Quite possibly neither of you.

-That's some consolation.

-Yes.

You see, it's our experience

that children of genius

unfortunately are very often

the offspring of parents

of, shall we say,

normal intelligence?

-What's unfortunate about it?

-Well, perhaps unfortunate

was a poor choice of words.

Excuse me.

Tell me, does he ever act bored?

-Oh, never.

Oh, perhaps occasionally

on rainy days.

-Why should he

act bored, doctor?

-Well, if I may use the

word unfortunately again,

boredom is often the plight

of the gifted child who

needs to be surrounded by minds

of his own intelligence level.

To go to school with

equally superior children.

To live in a more mentally

stimulating atmosphere.

-But Dennis is an extremely

happy, well adjusted child.

-Happy?

Perhaps.

But is he perhaps not

stagnated in this environment?

Surrounded by his well

meaning loved ones?

Good night, Mrs. Mitchell.

Mr. Mitchell.

-Good night, doctor.

-Oh, and, um, thank you, again.

-Stagnating in this environment?

The idea!

-Oh now, honey, that

was just his way

of trying to tell us that--

why, that egghead was trying

to tell us that we're too stupid

to be around our own child.

-George Wilson.

It's almost midnight.

-Well, as a matter

of fact, Martha,

I am so upset by all this fuss

about Dennis being a genius,

I doubt if I'll

sleep a wink, anyway.

-George, really.

Put out the light

and go to sleep.

-Oh, all right, Martha.

All right.

But I'm warning you right now,

I probably won't sleep a wink.

-Yes, dear.

-Not a wink.

Good morning, teacher.

-Quiet, fatso!

-Bonjour, class.

-Bonjour, professor.

-Will the new boy please

stand up and tell us his name?

-Yes, teacher.

It's Georgie Wilson.

-Very nice to meet you, Georgie.

You may sit down.

Now, before we begin

today's lessons,

for the benefit of

our new student,

I would like to mention that all

questions asked are carefully

selected the basis

of each student's

individual intelligence.

Margaret, would you please

read the first paragraph,

page of your reader?

[speaking foreign language]

-Tommy?

Will you please read

the first paragraph,

page of your reader?

[speaking foreign language]

-Excellente'.

Georgie, turn to page

of your reader.

-The boy ran fast.

The dog ran fast.

The bat ran fast.

-The word is cat.

-Well, I did get

two out of three.

[foreign language]

Sit down, Georgie.

Now, for today's

mathematics problem.

You have two seconds.

Tommy?

-Xy to the fourth power

plus x to the third power,

y to the fifth power minus

x to the second power,

y to the fourth power z.

-Very good, Tommy.

Now Georgie, will

you please stand up?

Now, here's your problem.

If you have marbles, and

I gave you four marbles,

how many would you now have?

Well?

-Would you mind

repeating the question?

-Never mind.

It appears that Georgie

has lost his marbles.

Come up here, Georgie.

-Yes, teacher.

-Bend over.

That's what you have

earned, Georgie.

Come over here.

Up here.

And please, try not to fall off.

-I won't fall off.

I won't fall of!

I-- I promise.

I won't fall.

I won't fall.

I-- ow!

-George, are you all right?

-Great Scott.

-Martha, now do you

see what happens

when a little boy

becomes a genius?

-Hi, honey.

-Hello, dear.

You're home early.

-Yeah.

I've been doing

some investigating.

-Well, you old private eye, you.

What sort of investigating?

-Colleges.

The rate Dennis is going, he'll

need it before we know it.

-I've been doing a little

investigating myself.

-Oh?

-The Wilton School

for Gifted Children.

French?

Painting?

Valet?

-Well, dear, Doctor

Heydon did say--

-I don't care what

that egghead said.

Our son is doing perfectly

fine in public school,

and that's what he's gonna--

-Dennis!

Come in here this minute.

-Yes, Mom?

-What In the world happened?

-Oh, you mean this?

-Yes, I mean this.

-Well--

-Come on son, tell

us what happened.

-You promise you won't get mad?

-Course not.

-Well, a new kid moved

into the neighborhood,

and he said all geniuses

were sissies, so I git him.

-Dennis, you'd better go

on upstairs and wash up.

Change your shirt too.

-Yes mom.

-There.

And that's another

good reason why

he should be among

children like himself.

-Alice, my mind is made up.

No private schools.

-Oh, your mind is made up.

-Every fellow down at the

office agreed with me.

There's no point in sending--

-Oh, you've been talking

this over with the fellows

at the office?

-Well, what's wrong

with getting a

little good, unemotional advice?

-Unemotional advice?

All I want to do is send our

son to a nearby private school

where he won't be beaten

up for being smart,

and you're sending him

off to college already.

-Alice, there's a time to

be facetious and a time to--

-And that's not all.

I heard mom and dad

talking about sending me

to a special brain school.

-Geez.

-I'm glad I'm not

a not a genius.

-Poor, poor Dennis.

I've heard that geniuses

usually lead tragic lives

with simply horrible endings.

-I'd give anything

to be just me again.

Then maybe I wouldn't have

to leave home and go away

to school.

-Oh, my poor baby.

-Now, Alice.

-Oh, Henry.

I was so proud when we

heard Dennis was a genius,

and now everything's gone wrong.

-There, there dear.

-Nobody seems to know

what's best for him.

He's not happy.

We're fighting.

Nothing will ever

be the same again.

-Of course it will, honey.

-Yesterday, he was such a

happy, carefree little boy.

But today-- Today he's a genius.

-Please, darling.

Here.

It's OK.

[phone ringing]

-Hello?

-This is Miss

Perkins, Mr. Mitchell.

I don't quite know

how to tell you this,

but Dennis' test score

was all a mistake.

-A mistake?

I-- I don't understand.

-Well, it seems there

was a gummy substance

on the back of

Dennis' test paper,

and it threw the electronic

grading machine completely off.

-Something like bubble gum?

Oh.

-Nothing like this has ever

happened before, mister--

-In other words,

Miss Perkins, Dennis

isn't a genius after all.

-I'm afraid not, Mr. Mitchell.

-Thank you for

calling, Miss Perkins.

Honey, it's all a mistake.

Dennis isn't a genius after all.

-Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Henry.

-Hey, Mom, when are you

going to get me my glasses?

-Glasses?

What glasses?

-Dumb ol' Margaret

says all geniuses

are supposed to wear glasses.

-I see.

Well, son, your

worries are over.

-Over?

-Dear, Miss Perkins just

called, and it's all a mistake.

-Mistake?

You mean I'm not a genius?

-I'm afraid not.

-Not even a little genius?

-Not even a little genius.

-Hey everybody, I'm

a dumb head again!

I'm a dumb head again!

-Well.

-Oh, when is that

laundry going to stop

putting starch in

your handkerchiefs?

-And you know, Martha,

that's another thing.

Now that Dennis

knows he's a genius,

he'll be more

unbearable than ever.

There.

That's that.

Well, Martha, how does it look?

-Just fine, dear.

-Hey, Mr. Wilson!

Hey, Mr. Wilson.

I'm a dumb head again.

I'm a dumb head again.

-Well Dennis, I don't care--

You-- What did you say?

-It's all a mistake.

Ms. Perkins says I'm

not a genius after all!

-All a mistake?

Martha, did you hear that?

-Yes dear, I heard.

-Now I gotta go find

the rest of the kids

and tell them the good news.

-Dennis!

The paint!

Oh good grief.

-Boy, you should see the

swell new color of paint

Mr. Wilson has on

his on screen door.

-What color is it, dear?

Dennis Mitchell,

you march yourself

right into that kitchen, and get

down the bottle of turpentine,

and get that off.

-Yes mom.

-Well, everything's

back to normal

in that dumb old

Mitchell family.

-Thank goodness.

[theme music]