03x21 - A Quiet Evening

[bunniefuu]

-See you later.

-Dennis?

-Yes, dad?

-Son, don't stay out too late.

You're having dinner

early this evening.

-Oh boy.

Are we going some place?

-Your mother and

I are going over

to the Martins' for dinner.

You're staying home as

sort of man of the house.

-Maryann is going to

sit with you, dear.

-You mean dumb old

Margaret's sister.

-Now Dennis, we're very lucky to

get a lovely girl like Maryann.

You know it's next to impossible

to find a sitter for Saturday

night.

-Yeah, mom.

But if I'm going to

be man of the house,

why do I need a dumb

old sitter, anyway?

-I pass.

-Well, so you'll have

someone to talk to, dear.

-Mom, sitters

don't want to talk.

All they want to do

is read, and tell you

ya aren't supposed to

do what you're doing.

-Dennis, you're going to

have a sitter tonight,

and that's that.

-Oh, OK.

Hey, I'll go ask

Mr. Wilson if he

wants to come over and

keep me company, too.

-Oh my goodness.

Look at the time.

-What's your hurry, honey?

You've got almost two hours.

-Two hours?

It takes me practically that

long for my bubble bath.

[theme music]

-Shame on you, Fremont.

How could you?

(SHOUTING) Martha!

Oh, Fremont, you're a bad

dog, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad.

-What is it, George?

-Martha, I accidentally dropped

my new, valuable, D

dime, and Fremont swallowed it.

-Are you sure?

-Of course I'm sue, Martha.

Look at him, sitting

there, licking his chops.

Oh, you, you money

snatcher, you.

-I do wish you had

taken out an insurance

policy on your coin collection.

-Well now how was I to know my

own dog would turn against me?

-Look.

-Huh? [gasp] Martha,

my dime, my dime.

-You should

apologize to Fremont.

-Oh, oh yes.

Oh, Fremont, I

sincerely apologize.

Martha, we're friends again.

Thank you, honey bunch.

-Are you sure you

don't mind my going

to the book club

lecture tonight?

-Oh no, no.

Of course not.

As a matter of fact,

I'm looking forward

to a quiet evening working

on my coin collection.

DENNIS (OFFSCREEN):

Hey, Mr. Wilson?

-Oh no.

Hi, Mr. Wilson.

Hi, Mrs. Wilson.

-Hi.

-Guess what?

Besides our sitter, I got our

house all to myself tonight.

-Oh, well bully for you.

-Want to come over and watch

television, or something?

-I don't want to come over and

watch television or nothing.

-I bet Mrs. Wilson wouldn't mind

getting you out of the house,

would you, Mrs. Wilson?

-Not at all, dear.

-You see there?

-Dennis, I'm going to be

extremely busy this evening.

-Doing what?

Uh, having a nervous

breakdown. [chuckling] Now

you go spread your sweetness

and light someplace else.

-OK, bye Mr. Wilson.

Bye Mrs. Wilson.

-Goodbye dear.

--[chuckling] You know, Martha,

I'm going to enjoy this evening

all the more because of Dennis.

-I don't understand.

-Well, if I get lonely or

anything, all I have to do

is imagine how

horrible it'd be if I

had to spend the evening

with him. [laughing]

-Henry, I was just

wondering if this red dress

might look better on me tonight.

-Oh, that'll be fine, honey.

-Hey dad, guess what?

-Dennis, what have you been told

about running in the bathroom

while I'm shaving.

-Dear, your dinner's

all ready for you.

It's down in the kitchen.

-I'm hungry!

-What's Seymour doing here?

-That's what I was

going to tell you.

I'm babysitting with him.

-You're what?

-Seymour's mom couldn't

find a sitter for tonight.

And when she heard I had

one, we kind of made a deal.

-Dennis Mitchell!

-Seymour won't be any trouble.

I'll look after him real good.

-Oh, Henry.

-Don't look at me, honey.

I'm busy cutting my throat.

[phone ringing]

-Hello.

Oh, hello, Mrs. Williams.

Yes, they are here now.

Oh no, no, of course

we don't mind.

You say Seymour's already eaten?

-What time's dinner.

-No, not at all, Mrs. Williams.

We're only too

happy to help out.

Goodbye.

-You mean it's OK for

Seymour to stay, mom?

-I suppose so.

-Oh boy.

Now I can keep that quarter

Seymour's mom gave me.

Boy, I'm sure glad

you could stay.

[doorbell]

-I'll get it.

You wait in my room, Seymour.

-Good evening, Dennis?

-What are you doing

here, Margaret?

-You'll find out, Dennis.

-Dennis, if that's Maryann,

you tell her-- well,

hello, Margaret.

-Good evening Mrs. Mitchell.

Maryann can't come.

-She can't come?

But she promised me faithfully.

-It's not her fault,

Mrs. Mitchell.

She got her dates mixed up,

and took two sitting jobs

by mistake.

-Oh dear.

-It's all right, though.

I came in her place.

-Listen, Margaret.

You can't be my sitter.

You're too young.

-Dennis Mitchell, if I'm old

enough to be engaged to you,

I'm certainly old

enough to sit with you.

-Mom, if you don't get her out

of here, I'm going to be sick.

-Children, please be quiet.

Margaret dear,

I'm afraid you are

a little young to be a sitter.

-You see there.

DAD (OFFSCREEN):

Alice, there's mud

on my only clean white shirt.

-I'll be right up, dear.

-But if I don't stay here, Mrs.

Mitchell, who Will you get?

-Me.

That's who she'll get.

-Don't be silly Dennis Mitchell.

You can't be your own sitter.

-Why not?

I'm my own stander.

-Perhaps Mrs. Wilson

could help me.

-Well, I must say,

you certainly look

the picture of contentment.

-[chuckling] I am, Martha.

You know, there's nothing quite

like getting into something

comfortable, and

spending a quiet evening

at one's favorite pastime.

[phone ringing]

-I'll get it, dear.

-Hello?

Why hello, Alice.

-Mrs. Wilson, I hate to

bother you like this.

But, well, I simply haven't

anyone else to turn to.

-Henry and I are invited to

a dinner party this evening.

And our sitter let us down.

-Oh, you poor thing, you.

I'd love to help out.

But I'm just on my way

to a lecture myself.

-Oh.

Well, thank you

anyway, Mrs. Wilson.

-However, Georgie

is here, Alice.

I'm sure he wouldn't mind

dropping over for a few hours.

-Why of course I-- Martha!

What are you saying?

-Mrs. Wilson, do

you really think so?

-Yes, of course.

-Martha, are you

out of your mind?

-Shh!

I'll just ask him

to make sure, dear.

-No, I refuse.

I simply refuse.

-George, the Mitchells

are our best friends.

They're in trouble.

We can't refuse to help them.

-But Martha, what about

my nice, quiet evening

I had all planned?

-Well, you can take your

coin collection with you,

and have a nice, quiet

evening over there.

-Martha, you can't be serious.

Why, nobody's had a nice

quiet evening with Dennis

around ever since

that first day they

brought him home

from the hospital.

-Alice?

George says he'd love to come.

-Oh Mrs. Wilson,

that's wonderful.

We'll be leaving soon.

Goodbye.

-Martha, how could you?

Oh!

-Oh, thank goodness.

-You hear that, Margaret?

Mr. Wilson's coming over.

So you can take your

dumb doll, and go home.

-Dear, here's a little

something for your trouble.

-You mean you're giving her

money for not doing something?

-Dennis Mitchell,

not one more word.

[phone ringing]

-Oh dear.

Hello?

Oh, hello Mrs. Moore.

Yes, Margaret's here.

Well, I do think

she's a little young.

Oh no, don't bother

to come over.

Mr. Wilson will be

here this evening,

and everything will be fine.

All right.

Thank you for calling.

Goodbye.

Well, Margaret, I

guess you'll stay

here and keep Dennis company.

-But mom, she'll

ruin everything!

-Dennis.

DAD (OFFSCREEN): You

better hurry up, honey.

You've only got a minute.

-I'm coming, dear.

-My goodness, your mother's

an emotional housekeeper.

Now then, we can eat,

talk, play post office.

What would you like

to do first, Dennis?

-Find some way to get

you out of my house.

-Uh, children, you may go

back to your television.

-I'd rather stay

with you, Mr. Wilson.

-And I have to be

wherever Dennis is.

Because I'm his sitter.

-You are not my

sitter, Margaret.

-I am so, Dennis Mitchell.

Why else would your

mother give me $ . ?

-So you'd go home, that's why.

-Children, please.

-Listen, Margaret,

go soak your head.

And go soak your

doll's head, too.

-Is that so?

-Yes, that's so.

-Quiet!

There, that's better.

-How are they paying you?

-Paying me?

Now you kids behave yourselves.

The idea.

-Shh.

-Shh.

-Shh.

-Well, that's more like it.

-(SHOUTING) Quiet!

-Oh, now you three children

sit down and be quiet,

like little ladies

and gentlemen.

-Mr. Wilson?

-Yes, Dennis?

-Do you have any new coins

in your coin collection?

-Oh, yes, Dennis.

Indeed I do.

Now this coin, for example,

is a D dime worth $ .

-Wow.

-May I please see

it, Mr. Wilson?

-Oh, of course

you may, Margaret.

There you are.

How utterly fascinating.

--[chuckling] Now this

coin here, for example--

-Seymour, come back here.

-I'm hungry.

-You can't be hungry.

You just ate.

Why, I'm not even hungry yet.

-May I play house, Mr. Wilson?

-Well, of course

you may, Margaret.

You may play anything you like,

as long as you do it quietly.

-Now then, you're the father.

My doll Pamela can

be our daughter.

And Seymour can be our son.

-Thank you, Margaret.

But I have no desire to

be related to any of you.

-All right, then.

We'll play hospital.

I'm the nurse.

You're the doctor.

And Seymour's the patient

about to the operated on.

-(SHOUTING) I'm going home!

-Seymour, come back here.

It's all in fun.

-Let me go!

Help!

Help!

Let me go!

Help!

Help!

Let me go.

Help, help.

-Children, children,

for heaven's sakes,

don't you know any quiet games?

-Like what?

-Well, like staring at each

other with your mouths shut.

-Hey, we could play

spaceship and go to the moon.

-Listen here, Dennis Mitchell.

Girls aren't interested

in going to the moon.

-That's exactly why we men

want to go there, Margaret.

-I can't go.

I'm not allowed to

cross the street.

-Not allowed to cross the--

oh, for heaven's sakes.

-Will you play a

game of hide and go

seek with us, Mr. Wilson?

-Oh now, Dennis.

-That's a nice, quite

game, isn't it Gretchen?

-I thought you said your dumb

old doll's name was Pamela.

-The dear little

thing has two names.

I wanted twins.

-Oh good grief.

-Oh, Dennis.

All right, children.

I'll tell you what.

I'll play one game

of hide and seek

with you, if you promise

to be quiet for the rest

of the evening.

-We promise.

-OK.

-I want to do the counting.

-OK, Seymour.

Stand in the corner

and count to .

-I only can count to nine.

-Well, you count to nine

five times, Seymour.

-Come on, kids.

-One, two--

-Dennis I am not a kid.

-One, two, three,

seven, eight, nine.

One, two, three,

seven, eight, nine.

One, two three,

seven, eight, nine.

One, two, three,

seven, eight, nine.

Here I come, ready or not.

-Do you hear him?

[crash]

-It sounds like

he's in the kitchen.

-I think we better go

see what he's doing.

-Seymour!

-You shouldn't do

things like this.

-I'm hungry.

-Oh, Seymour.

-Put these things--

-Mr. Wilson?

Mr. Wilson, the game's over.

[pounding]

MR. WILSON (OFFSCREEN):

Dennis, let me out of here.

-Out of where?

MR. WILSON (OFFSCREEN):

The closet.

-Jeepers, Mr. Wilson.

You weren't supposed

to lock yourself in.

That's against the rules.

-Dennis, I didn't try to

lock myself in the closet.

I-- oh, I give up.

-There.

Now you come right

in here with me.

You sit right down here,

and behave yourself.

Now don't you move.

-I want some candy.

-Oh, Seymour, it's night time.

And all the candy

stores are closed.

[throwing a tantrum]

-Hey, Mr. Wilson, I

know where there's

some candy machines

on Main Street.

-Dennis, we are not

going to go to any candy

machines on Main Street.

So forget it.

-Seymour, come back here!

-Dennis, come back here!

-Children, come back here!

[laughing]

-Wow.

-Here he is, Mr. Wilson.

-Shame on you, Seymour,

running off like that.

-Seymour, you're a bad boy.

It's late at night.

If a policeman--

oh, he's all sticky.

-Seymour, I didn't

know you had a dime.

-I borrowed it from Mr. Wilson.

-Now, Seymour,

little boys who tell

fibs-- oh, Seymour, you mean

the dime that was on the desk?

You mean-- oh,

tell me you didn't!

Oh!

Great Scott!

My $ dime.

Oh.

-Mr. Wilson, you're

going to break it.

-Oh, where's that

old nail file I had?

-You got a hangnail Mr. Wilson?

-Oh, Dennis, please.

-Oh dear.

This isn't legal, you know.

-Oh, darn this machine!

-Wow.

Look at all those peachy dimes.

-I'm glad Pamela and

I had no part in this.

-Four, ' .

[whistle blowing]

-Mr. Wilson, here comes a--

-Oh Dennis, don't bother me now.

[whistle blowing]

-Seymour, we better

get out of here.

Come on, Margaret.

- D. Dennis, I j--

oh. [nervous laugh]

Oh, good evening officer.

I was just--

-So we finally caught you, huh?

-Caught?

Oh, no officer.

You see I was just--

-Breaking into

the candy machine.

-Oh, no, no, no.

You see, officer, I lost

this rare dime and--

-Tell it to the judge.

-Tell it to the judge?

-Come on, now.

-Oh, now wait a minute, officer.

Children, children,

where are you?

Officer, please.

I'm a babysitter.

-Yeah, yeah, I know.

And It with some little

kid, got you just

started on a life of crime.

-Oh no, officer.

Now pick up the dimes.

-Oh.

-Boy, poor old Mr.

Wilson can sure

get himself into

some awful messes.

-Can't he?

[doorbell]

-Hi, Mr. Martin.

-Why, Dennis.

-Can I see my dad?

It's a matter of

almost life and death.

-That serious, eh?

Well now you just

hold on a minute.

-What a lovely party.

See what a good time married

people can have, Dennis.

-Gosh, Margaret, don't

you ever give up?

-Dennis, what are

you doing here?

-Why aren't you children

with Mr. Wilson?

-Because poor old Mr. Wilson

is in a lot of trouble.

-It was awful.

He broke into a candy machine.

-And then the policeman

took him away.

-And they put him

in the hoosegow.

-I don't understand.

-Dad, that's the whole trouble.

Neither did the policeman.

-Margaret, you and Seymour

stay with Mrs. Mitchell.

Come on, son.

We'll do down to

the police station.

POLICEMAN (OFFSCREEN):

All right then.

Where were you the night

of Thursday, November ?

-I don't remember.

Now I keep telling you.

-Yeah, yeah, you

don't know nothing

about those other

coin machine jobs.

-You were only looking

for a rare dime.

-Exactly.

-What's your real name.

-George Wilson.

And I assure you.

-You ever been called

George the Gat?

-George the Gat?

-Your real name's Watson, is it?

Come clean.

-Where'd you serve time last?

-My name is George Wilson.

And I have never

served time anywhere.

If you don't-- you call Sergeant

Mooney if you don't believe me.

-It's his night off.

He's out.

-Let's see.

George the Gat picks

locks with nail files,

smooth talker, odd dresser.

-Now look here.

I demand to speak to--

[phone ringing]

-Yeah.

OK.

Let's go.

-Go?

Go where?

-When was the last time

you made the lineup?

-The lineup?

Oh no!

-That's the darnedest story

I ever heard in my life.

-But it's the truth, Sergeant.

-Sure.

Cub Scouts never lie.

-You're a Cub Scout?

-Oh, Mitchell, am I

ever glad to see you.

Will you tell these two that

I am not Georgia the Gat?

-We've already told

him, Mr. Wilson.

-It's all right, boys.

There's evidently

been a mistake.

-You see?

That's what I've been trying

to tell you, you know-it-alls.

-You sure, Sarge?

-Yes, I'm sure.

He may be some kind nut,

but he's no criminal.

-Now that's what I've

been trying to tell you.

I may be some kind of a

nut-- I beg your pardon?

-We're only trying to

do our duty, Mr. Wilson.

After all, you were unlawfully

pilfering a vending machine.

When they brought you in you

had no wallet or identification

of any kind.

-Well.

-Mr. Wilson, I'm sure

glad you're free.

-We're terribly sorry all

this happened, Mr. Wilson.

-I suppose there was

no real harm done.

At least I got my

valuable dime back.

-Here's your

personal property we

took from you when

you were booked.

one pocket comb, three teeth

missing, one nail file,

seven jelly beans--

-Goodness.

I wonder how they got in there.

-One quarter, two nickels,

and three pennies.

Sign here, please.

-Well, everything seems

to be-- wait a minute.

My dime.

Where's my dime?

-Well you've got two

nickels, haven't you?

I needed the dime for that

candy machine over there.

-Candy?

Great Scott, my dime.

-Wilson!

Stop that!

Stop that!

Wilson!

-Not until I get my dime back.

-Wilson, stop it!

-I want my dime.

-Whoa, poor old

Mr. Wilson sure has

trouble hanging onto his

money, doesn't he, dad?

-I'm glad your foot

feels better, Mr. Wilson.

-Oh, thank you, Alice.

-The idea of getting into a

fight with a vending machine.

-Well, at least that's

one fight I won.

Wouldn't you say so, Mitchell?

-I sure would.

-My golly.

When George Wilson goes after

something, he really gets it.

-Hey, Mr. Wilson?

-Yes, Dennis?

-Can I try the

vending machine you

bought from the

police department?

-Why yes, be my guest.

Provided, of course, you

brought your own dime.

-Boy, it sure is

swell living next door

to a candy machine, especially

when it not only gives you

a candy bar, but sends

your dime back, too!

[laughter]

[theme music]