02x01 - The Hit Song Writers

[bunniefuu]

Hey, Mabel, look who's coming! Oh, gee. It's Hoagy Carmichael.

Hello, Mr. Carmichael. Hello, kids. Nice day, isn't it?

[playing mellow music]

[singing] ♪ Could it be love ♪

♪ That makes me feel the way I do? ♪

♪ This fuzzy-wuzziness ♪

♪ This ring-a-ding ♪

♪ This ring-a-ding-a-ling ♪ You say this is an original song?

If it ain't, I'll eat it.

You might find the little pieces easier to chew!

[door opens, then slams shut]

Is that you, Fred? [grumbling]

Make yourself comfortable, dear. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.

[grumbles]

Oh, I'm so glad you're in a happy mood.

I wanna show you something funny, Fred.

Yeah? What?

I'm going to show you how you look when you come home.

Wilma, this is no time for games. Watch, Fred.

[grumbling]

[laughing]

Isn't that funny, Fred? I ain't laughing.

That's because you're an old grouch.

Now, Fred, at least today, you should be in a good mood.

And what's this day got that all the other days haven't got?

It's payday.

Payday? You mean, crumb day.

The day they throw me a few crumbs for working like a sl*ve all week.

Barney works just as hard as you do, but he always comes home cheerful.

This is what Barney greeted Betty with last night.

What is it? It's a poem he wrote.

A poem?

Why, the little sneak. He just did it to make me look bad.

I've got a good mind to break it over his head.

Just sit quietly and listen. Okay. I'll listen.

Then I'll break it over his head.

It says, "To my darling Betty..."

The day you said that you'd be mine I made a vow we'd never part And though I leave for work each day at 9 I take you with me in my heart Next time he goes to work, it will be with a lump on his head.

There's more. Listen.

You're on my mind the whole day through And when I hear those five bells chime I know that soon I'll be with you Except when I work overtime Now, isn't that a sweet thought?

Yeah. Gets me right here.

Yuck.

And I'm gonna do something about it right now.

What are you gonna do, Fred?

Right next door I'm gonna scoot And pop that Barney on the snoot

[Wilma] Don't you dare lay a hand on him, Fred.

Oh, hello, Betty. What's the matter with him, Wilma?

I don't think Fred appreciates poetry.

There, that's finished. All I gotta do is sign it.

[door slams shut]

Oh, hello, pal. Come on in.

You mean, ex-pal.

Why? What did I do, Fred?

You wrote a poem for Betty, that's what.

Why should that make you mad, Fred?

Because every time you do something nice for Betty, Wilma expects me to do the same.

Wilma expects you to do something nice for Betty too?

No, you lunkhead, she expects me to do something nice for her.

What's the idea, writing poems, anyway? Why don't you act like a normal husband?

I can't help it, Fred.

When I get the urge to write poems, I just got to sit down and write them.

As a matter of fact, I stayed up all last night writing the words for a song about you, Fred.

About me?

Yeah. About something you always say, Fred.

I just finished signing it when you come in. Would you like me to read it to you?

Go ahead. I'm in a rotten mood anyway.

So help me, if I find Fred picking on Barney, I'll really give him a piece of my mind.

I hope he isn't. Barney's very sensitive about his poetry.

[inaudible dialogue]

Did you see what I saw? Yes, but I don't believe it.

Maybe Fred likes Barney's poetry after all.

But I don't believe that either.

Well, how'd you like it, pal? You stayed up all night to write that?

Yeah. Sounds pretty good, huh, Fred?

You wanna know what I think? Well, sure, Fred.

I think you should have stayed in bed. You make better sounds when you snore!

Next time you can't sleep, think of a way we can make some money.

Writing songs. [grumbles]

Thinking of do-re-mi.

Thinking of do-re-mi. Writing songs.

Hey, that's it, Barney. What's it, Fred?

We could make a fortune writing songs.

But, Fred, we don't know nothing about the songwriting business.

Are you kidding?

Did I ever do anything unless I knew exactly what I was doing?

Well, yeah, Fred. How about the time...? Don't be a wise guy.

Are you interested in getting rich or starting an argument?

But, uh, even if we did write the words, Fred, we don't know nothing about writing music.

Well, you can leave that minor detail to the senior partner, me.

You're gonna write the music, Fred?

No, Barney, I'm not. We'll have it written for us.

Didn't you ever see those ads in the magazines?

"We write the music to your words."

Oh, yeah, Fred, but don't they charge a lot?

Charge? Musicians? That's a laugh.

Do you know how many request numbers a musician plays?

Lots of them, I guess, Fred. Right.

And we will simply request a number to go with our words.

If we like it, we'll throw them a tip.

You get it? I get it, Fred. Yeah.

I gotta hand it to you, you sure know all the angles.

I'll start writing some words right away.

Hold it, Barney. Hold it.

Before we put down one line, we're gonna find out everything there is to know about writing the words to popular songs.

And I don't care if it takes the rest of the night to learn.

Come on, let's go. Where to, Fred?

To get the necessary information. What else?

There's only one thing that would make Fred listen to Barney's poetry.

He must have hit him, and Fred is unconscious.

[Fred] Wilma! Hey, Wilma!

No. He's not unconscious.

You ladies better have dinner together tonight.

Me and my collaborator are going to the library.

Since when did they put them in there? Put what in where?

Pool tables in the library. [laughs] [Betty laughs]

[imitates laughter]

Go ahead, laugh.

But remember, he who laughs last, laughs last, laughs last... Uh...

He who laughs last, laughs...

He who... Who he... He...

And don't you forget it!

[wheels screeching]

Well, there it is, Barney. The good old public library.

[chuckles]

I haven't been here for years.

Hey, let's go in, Fred. I'm anxious to get started.

Good evening, miss. Flintstone's the name. Fred Flintstone.

Oh, yes. You've come to return the book you took out.

It's a little overdue, you know.

Exactly 11 years and 31 days.

My dear madam, it so happens I brought that book back the next day.

What was the name of the book, Fred? - How to Improve Your Manners.

And it did me no good at all. Obviously.

Would you like to read it again? Nah. I want a book on how to write songs.

Oh.

We have one called There's Loot in Lyrics.

[chuckles]

Get that title, Barney? There's Loot in Lyrics. What did I tell you?

You'll find it on Shelf 14.

[muttering]

Ah. [chuckles]

Here's the page I've been looking for.

"Popular songs people prefer." Mark this down.

"People who like happy love songs: 40 percent.

People who like sad love songs: 50 percent.

People who like songs about Mother: 4 percent."

Hey, uh, Mother would be a nice idea to write about, Fred.

"Teenagers who like songs with words like 'ahuba ruba, '

'tweedle dee dee, ' etcetera, etcetera: 46 percent."

Gee, Fred, that adds up to 140 percent.

You wanna be an arithmetic genius or a songwriting genius?

Now, let me think.

I got it! What, Fred?

I got an idea that's gonna rock the musical world.

Our song will have every one of these ideas in it.

That way all the people will like it, all 140 percent.

Come on, Barney. Let's go home and get to work.

Gee, Fred, can't we wait till tomorrow?

I'm getting awful sleepy.

Barney, people all over the world are waiting to sing our song.

Do you wanna disappoint them? Not the whole 140 percent of them.

[cuckooing]

Fred?

Three o'clock in the morning and those two characters are still at it.

Now I know how Mrs. Gilbert and Sullivan felt.

[snoring]

We gotta get that "Mother" angle in the song some place.

Let me see now.

Somebody already wrote a song about my mother's eyes.

That leaves only her ears, nose and throat.

How does this sound, Barney?

"Mother, you're just like a brother to me."

Nah, nah, that ain't no good.

You got any ideas, Barney? [snoring]

Barney!

Oh, I'm sorry, Fred. I was just taking 40 winks.

Well, stop winking and start thinking. We need a "Mother" angle in the song.

Well, how about, "My mother's hair used to be orange, but now it's turned to silver"?

Hey, that's not bad.

You think of a lot words that rhyme with "orange" and "silver."

And I'll think of some sad ideas about love.

Hey, Pop. It's time to rise and shine.

Huh? It's... Oh...

Why don't you take it this morning, kid? Gee, you mean it, Pop?

Yeah. Go ahead. Thanks, Pop.

Boy, my first big chance.

Cock-a-doodle-dilly-doo!

Cock-a-doodle-dilly-doo? Heh.

One simple line and he muffs it.

Good heavens. Barney hasn't been to bed at all.

They must still be working.

There you are, Fred. It's finished.

Yabba-dabba-doo! We did it!

Wilma! Come on over, Wilma. I got a surprise for you.

Here it is, girls, our first song hit.

And it's great, isn't it, Barney? [snoring]

Now, let's see a little life, collaborator.

Yippee.

Into the shower with you, buddy.

And then we're off to see the wizard who will write the music to these beautiful words.

"'Scat' Von Roctoven. Music written to your lyrics."

This is the guy we wanna see, Barney.

[knocking on door]

Enter, lovers of music.

Uh, pardon me, we saw your ad in the paper, and...

Say no more, friend.

You've got pretty words, and you want Scat to put down the pretty black dots.

[Barney] Huh?

What does he mean, Fred? How should I know? I ain't no musician.

We got the words, but we don't need any black dots.

We need music to go with it. You guarantee that you'll write us a hit?

Uh, you guarantee to pay in cash? Certainly.

In that case, man, when Scat finishes putting the black dots down, every canary in town will be straining her tonsils, wailing your words.

Boy, that guy Scat sure knows how to write music, Barney.

When he played our song, I got a lump in my throat.

Gee, I don't know, Fred.

When he played our song, I got a lump in the pit of my stomach.

Ah, you just don't appreciate good melody, Barney. I'm telling you, it's great.

Well, if you say so, Fred. Hey, uh, where are we going now?

To see Roland Rockwell, the top music publisher.

And when we're there, let me do the talking.

I don't want him to think we're amateurs. I won't say a thing, Fred.

May I help you, gentlemen?

We are songwriters, hit songwriters.

I might have known.

Well, plant yourself on that bench against the wall, buddy.

And maybe Mr. Rockwell will see you in a couple of hours.

Just a minute, lady. We didn't start in this business yesterday, you know.

Shut up and sit down! Let's do what the lady says, Fred.

Well, okay.

It's lucky for you my collaborator is tired, girlie.

You can't let them push you around in this racket, Barney.

Hey, Mabel, look who's coming! Oh, gee. It's Hoagy Carmichael.

Hello, Mr. Carmichael. Hello, kids. Nice day, isn't it?

Good morning, Sally. [Sally] Oh, good morning, sir.

I'll let Mr. Rockwell know you're here.

Here comes some character trying to break into the song business.

Don't let on this is our first song, Barney.

I won't, Fred.

Hi, fellas. May I sit down? Oh, sure. Make yourself comfortable.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

Uh, skin me. What was that?

I said, "Skin me." Don't you know what that means?

Oh. Oh, yeah. It's just that I haven't heard it for years.

Well, if you're around like we are, you hear it a couple of hundred times a day.

Mmm. Maybe I better get around a little more.

Do you fellas write songs? [chuckles]

You hear that, Barney? He's asking us if we write songs.

[laughs]

Yeah, we write them but only a special kind.

Really? What kind is your specialty?

Hits, buster. Just hits.

You mean that every song you've written has been a hit?

Let me put it this way, pal.

We have not written a flop song since we've been in this racket.

Skin me? I mean, dig me?

Pardon me, sir, you may go in now.

Thanks. Thanks. Thanks.

Hold it, bub. Hold it. You seem to be a little ignorant of songwriting etiquette.

In this racket, it's first come, first served. Come on, Barney.

I'm sorry, fellas.

Okay, son. You'll learn the ropes after a while.

And where do you characters think you're going?

Oh, don't get your curly hair ruffled, lady. We don't have to be announced.

I know my way around.

Follow me, Barney. [door opens]

Well, of all the nerve!

Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Carmichael. It's okay, Sally.

Rocky will be glad to see them. They only write hit songs.

How did you two guys get in here? I was expecting...

The luckiest break in your life, huh? Well, Rocky baby, you expected right.

We got something to tell you that will make you the happiest man in town.

My wife left me?

We've got the song that will take you out of the bush league and put you right up there with the big fellas.

And here it is. Get me a piano player, and I'll sing it for you.

Out, out, out!

You won't need a piano player, you'll need a doctor if you're not out of here in two seconds! I'll play for the boys, Mr. Rockwell.

This may be another one of their hits.

You? Play for them?

Ah, give the feller a break, Rocky. Let him play.

[stammers] Do you know who that "feller" is?

[Fred] So nobody knows him today.

We were all unknown years ago.

Here, buddy. Playing this will be your first big break.

Thanks.

You want this allegro, pianissimo or andante?

Look, I don't wanna talk about Italian food. Play.

Okay.

[playing mellow music]

Oh, no.

Come on, come on, start playing.

Okay. Here goes.

[resumes playing]

[singing] ♪ Could it be love ♪

♪ That makes me feel the way I do? ♪

♪ This fuzzy-wuzziness ♪

♪ This ring-a-ding ♪

♪ This ring-a-ding-a-ling ♪

♪ That keeps on ringing in my head ♪

♪ Since the day you said ♪

♪ That you couldn't live without me ♪

♪ But now you say you can ♪

♪ And so I'll ask my mother ♪

♪ To get me someone else instead ♪ Leaves you sort of speechless, huh?

[muttering]

You say this is an original song?

If it ain't, I'll eat it.

You might find the little pieces easier to chew!

Now, get out! Out, out, out!

Before I throw you out!

Okay! But this is the last hit song you'll ever get from us.

Come on, Barney. This guy doesn't know a good song when he hears it.

Okay, Fred. But after hearing you sing, I think Mr. Rockwell is right.

[grumbles]

Looks like they left their briefcase, Rocky.

Good. I'll throw it out the window after them.

Maybe I'll be lucky and hit the big guy. You're being too hard on him.

Just chalk up another chump that was taken by "Scat" Von Roctoven.

Wait a minute.

Listen to this title.

"Yabba-dabba-dabba-dabba-doo!"

There's the gimmick. That's what they're buying today.

And you know who's gonna write the music?

You are. Me?

Remember, Mr. Carmichael, you haven't had a hit in five years.

You write while I play golf.

Barney, the next time I get an idea to make a million bucks, sock me right in the kisser, will you?

Oh, it'd be a pleasure, Fred. I never felt so humiliated.

Hey, fellas. Am I glad you're still here.

Mr. Carmichael, I want to apologize for not recognizing you.

Oh, forget it. I want to talk to you about this lyric we found in your briefcase.

Gee, I hope you didn't read it. It's not very good.

Mr. Rockwell thinks it is. I just hope you'll like the melody that I wrote for it.

You wrote the music for those words?

Music? Let's say I put down some pretty black dots.

Yabba-dabba-doo!

I can't believe it's true.

Imagine us being invited to the best supper club in town as Hoagy Carmichael's guests.

And let's not forget who's responsible for that.

If I had not inspired my friend Barney to write a poem about me, we would all be sitting home, twiddling our thumbs.

Ladies and gentlemen, once more, it's my pleasure to play for you in the wonderful Pilton Hotel in downtown Bedrock.

As I look around and see the wonderful celebrities...

And some of them are well-known celebrities.

I see a wonderful friend of mine.

A wonderful musician and a wonderful composer.

Sit down, Fred.

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Hoagy Carmichael.

[crowd applauding]

Thank you. Thank you.

As a wonderful, special treat tonight, Hoagy has consented to play his latest composition for us, entitled:

"Yabba-dabba-dabba-dabba-doo!"

[applause]

The words to this song were written by my friend, Barney Rubble, who created the lyrics from a title suggested by his best friend, Fred Flintstone.

Now, let me do the talking, Barney.

Sit down, Fred.

[playing jaunty music]

[singing] ♪ Boy, do we know How to bust Monte Carlo ♪

♪ And to never be blue ♪

♪ It's a lot like prayin' Just keep a-ea yin' ♪

♪ Yabba-dabba-dabba-dabba-doo! ♪

♪ If you think your sweetie's left for Tahiti ♪

♪ We can give you a clue ♪

♪ There's no need for or yin' Roar like a lion ♪

♪ Yabba-dabba-dabba-dabba-doo! ♪

♪ B-A-D-D-A means "bad" D-A-B-B-A means "good" ♪

♪ Oh, what magic in a word we've found By switchin' the letters around ♪

♪ So if someday the bases are loaded And they're countin' on you ♪

♪ You just can't strike out if you'll up and shout ♪

♪ Yabba-dabba-dabba Yabba-dabba-dabba ♪

♪ Yabba-dabba-dabba-dabba-doo! ♪

[both singing] ♪ B-A-D-D-A means "bad" D-A-B-B-A means "good" ♪

♪ Oh, what magic in a word we've found By switchin' the letters around ♪

♪ B-A-D-D-A means "bad" D-A-B-B-A means "good" ♪

♪ Oh, what magic in a word we've found By switchin' the letters around ♪

♪ So if someday the bases are loaded And they're countin' on you ♪

♪ You just can't strike out if you'll up and shout ♪

[all singing] ♪ Yabba-dabba-dabba Yabba-dabba-dabba ♪

♪ Yabba-dabba-dabba-dabba-doo! ♪

♪ Yabba-dabba-dabba-dabba-doo! ♪

[crowd applauding]

More! More! Author! Author!

[whistling]

Sit down, Fred.

Barney, you will be the first millionaire friend I ever had.

Don't rush it, Fred.

Only one in 5000 published songs ever make any money.

Just keep writing them, Barney. And maybe someday you'll be lucky.

Gee, thanks, Mr. Carmichael.

Don't worry about him working.

I got a million titles rolling around in my head!

And as soon as we get home tonight...

Oh, no, you don't! [muffled chatter]

[all laughing]

[TV clicks off]

[yawns]

Wilma!

Wilma!

Come on, Wilma, open this door!

Wilma!