02x03 - Ed's Ancestors

[bunniefuu]

[whinnies]

Hello. I'm Mister 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 Mister 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 Mister Ed ♪

[Mister Ed humming]

You know, I think the Park
Improvement Committee

will like that sketch.

Well, having your wife on
the committee doesn't hurt.

It would help if I knew

what kind of statue they're
going to put outside the pavilion.

They ought to let
the birds vote on that.

[laughs] Not a bad idea.

Uh, by the way, Wilbur...

[chuckles] ...when we
go riding this Sunday,

do you think we'll run into that
pretty little chestnut filly again?

I'm sure. We see
her every Sunday.

Ooh, would you mind running
that razor over my face?

What?

Just the right side.

She kind of likes a smooth
cheek to nuzzle against.

Right here, huh?

Up a little higher.

Uh... giving Ed a shave.

Giving your horse a shave?

I'd let him shave himself,

but he always forgets
to clean the razor.

I don't know what's
the matter with me.

I keep thinking you're normal.

[grunts] I wish our wandering
wives would get back.

I'm so hungry I
could eat a horse.

[snorts]

Well, I don't think they're
ever going to get back, Rog.

Come on in the house,
and I'll fix you some lunch.

My wife is a compulsive clubber.

She'd join the Foreign Legion
if it had weekly meetings.

And how about that awful
dress that Cynthia Evans had on.

It was just ridiculous.

- [Carol] Wilbur.
- Yes, dear?

I've got some good news.

What news?

Wilbur, our committee
finally decided

what kind of statue we're
going to put in the pavilion.

It's going to be
a palomino horse

to represent the spirit of
the West, and guess what.

They're going to use
Mister Ed as the model.

Mister Ed.

Are they going to do him
in marble, or just stuff him?

That's what I like
about you, doll.

You always say the
wrong thing at the right time.

That same thought struck me
the moment I proposed to you.

Honey, give me all the details.

How did they happen to pick Ed?

It was completely impartial.

Pictures of 50 different
horses were submitted,

and Mister Ed was
the unanimous choice.

Ooh. I couldn't be prouder of Ed

if he'd graduated
from high school.

Honey, the sculptor is coming by
next Friday to make some sketches,

so let's have Mister
Ed looking his prettiest.

Oh, don't worry
about a thing, honey.

I'll curry him down. I'll
polish his horseshoes.

I'll curl his mane,
braid his tail.

Why don't you just walk
him through a car wash?

Oh, I'm terribly
excited about this,

and I put your name down

for a $50 contribution
towards the statue.

Why is it, in a
country of free speech,

Every time you open your
mouth it costs me money.

Come on, Kay.

Let's see if the boys left us
anything in the refrigerator.

- [Kay] All right.
- [both chattering]

Oh, come on, cheer up, Rog.

Look at it this way. Your money is
helping to build a statue of my horse.

Boy, am I sick and tired

of hearing you talk about
that spindly animal of yours.

Well, if you're
going to talk like that,

I may never cook for your again.

Let's see, let's see.

[mumbles]

Hey, Ed, what you doing?

Playing Solitaire.

The red queen does
not go on the red king.

Oh, is that a red queen?

You know, there's a little
color blindness in my family.

A little cheating
in your family, too.

Ed, I've got some
great news for you.

You got me a date with
that little chestnut filly?

Better than that.

You are going to
have an opportunity

to work on this park project.

You see, they're
going to erect a statue.

- You'll have to work about two or three...
- Whoa, boy.

Rein up there. Did you say work?

It'll be easy, Ed.

You see, this
statue is a palomino

to typify the spirit of
the American West,

and they've chosen
you as the model.

Well, you'll have to stand
there in the nice cool grass.

With the nice hot sun
b*ating down on my back.

Let them find another patsy.

You can't let Carol down.

I mean this is a
tremendous honor for you.

I'm not going to
stand around all day

posing on my flat feet.

Flat feet?

What do you think
kept me out of the army?

Ed, you don't understand
what this means.

They have chosen
you out of 50 horses.

- 50?
- 50.

Your statue will be
standing in that park forever.

- Ooh.
- Mister Ed, typifying the
spirit of the American West.

- Picked me from 50 horses.
- That's right.

- Oh, well, class will tell.
- Sure.

I wouldn't be surprised
if I came from royalty.

Sure. Who knows?

I mean, some of your ancestors

may have been owned
by earls and dukes.

Princes, kings.

[laughs] Wilbur, let's find
out about my ancestors.

Maybe I have a
family coat-of-arms.

Sure, sure. I'll write to
the Breeders' Association

the first chance I get.

Do it now, and that's
an order, peasant.

Yes, Your Majesty.

It sure is nice to
have a stenographer.

Lick. It's your letter.

[groans] Lemon.

Hey, Wilbur, how
about some golf?

No, I can't. I've got
to mail this letter.

It's to the American
Breeders' Association.

American Breeders' Association?

Yeah, now that they're
making this statue,

I figure so many people will be
asking about Ed's family background,

that I thought I'd send
away for his papers.

The answer will come
back in one word. Plug.

- [snorts]
- Yeah?

Well, I'm positive Ed came
from a long line of thoroughbreds.

You know, I'm
getting a little fed up,

the way you keep boasting
about this broken down horse.

I ought to teach you a
lesson. How about a little bet?

All right. What
about a sociable $5?

Let's make it an unsociable 50,

the exact amount my dear
foolish wife put me in the hole for.

Fine. We'll make it $50.

Oh, boy, you're better
than social security.

Just don't spend the
money yet, Roger.

Ed has a lot of class.

They'll probably find nothing
but polo ponies in his family.

I've got to mail my letter.

No, no, give it to me.

I'll mail it on my
way to the club.

Oh, thanks. I can
get my work done.

Honey, that call was from the
Park Commission, and guess what.

They want me to unveil Mister
Ed's statue when it's finished.

Why, that's wonderful.

Let's see. I'll need a
whole new wardrobe...

- A dress, shoes, purse...
- Wait, wait, wait, honey.

They're going to
unveil Ed, not you.

- Oh, Wilbur.
- Ha, I'm only teasing.

You buy whatever you want.

Oh, thank you, darling.

- I better go tell Kay.
- [Roger] Oh, Wilbur.

Oh, Roger, is Kay home?

Yeah, she's in the
kitchen, of all places.

Insists on cooking
dinner tonight.

Then maybe I shouldn't ask
her to go shopping with me.

Oh, please do. In her hands, a
gas range is a deadly w*apon.

I won't be long,
honey, and thanks.

[Wilbur] Spend all
the money you want.

Oh, Wilbur, I met the
postman on the way in,

and this letter came for you.

It's from the American
Breeders' Association.

That is Ed's papers.

Well, I wonder what they say.

Just have the $50
ready, please, huh?

Ed's not a thoroughbred.

Why, his ancestry is
probably better than yours.

- Will you take a check?
- Straight to the bank.

I'll bring it over later.

Oh, Wilbur, I'm just
trying to prove a point.

- Forget about the money.
- No. When I lose, I pay.

You won fair and square.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,

who's the noblest horse of all?

You, you handsome devil, you.

- Hi, Ed.
- Hello, Wilbur.

You should knock before
entering the royal bedchamber.

I got the letter from the
American Breeders' Association.

About time.

How many kings and
queens rode on my ancestors?

None.

Princes?

- Dukes?
- No.

Police wagons, huh?

Forget about the letter, Ed.

I still think you
are a great horse.

Read me the letter, Wilbur.

Okay.

[clears throat]

Uh, the first ancestor
they could trace

was your great-great
grandfather Dirty Ed.

- Dirty Ed?
- Owned by Billy The Kid.

Billy The Kid?

You don't want to hear
any more of the letter, huh?

Keep going.

You had two great-uncles...

Eddy the Rat and Evil-eyed Ed.

- [Ed groans]
- They rode with
the Dalton brothers.

[groans]

Belle Starr owned
your great-grandmother.

Then there was your
uncle, Mad Dog Eddy.

Mad Dog Eddy?

The first horse ever
hung in Arizona.

- Then there was...
- Don't go any further.

I've got bad blood.

I come from a family of crooks.

Ed, it's nothing.

When I was playing solitaire,

I knew I put that red
queen on that red king.

Cheating is in my blood.

Ed, forget it. You're making
a mountain out of a molehill.

I'm not worthy of
posing for that statue.

Ed, that's ridiculous.

The kids of America deserve
better than a rogue horse.

- Ed, listen...
- Stay away from me, Wilbur.

I might be a k*ller.

"The classic concept
of the criminal type

is the close-set shifty eyes."

Yeah, that's me.

"Pointed ears."

Check.

"And thin, cruel lips with
an animal expression."

Don't even have to look
in the mirror for that one.

I did see a beautiful
dress at Philippe's,

but the price was
absolutely ridiculous.

I told Kay that they're
nothing but a bunch of bandits.

Well, that doesn't
make him a bad horse.

What? Who?

Hmm? Oh, I was
talking about the statue.

I mean, the whole
idea of a horse,

well, that's ridiculous.

Wouldn't a dog
be a better subject?

For the American Palomino?

Palomino. Make it an
American German Shepherd

or American French Poodle
or any of those American dogs.

Wilbur, what are
you talking about?

It's already settled.

Mister Ed is going
to pose for the statue.

The sculptor is coming by
tomorrow to make some sketches.

Honey, I'm afraid Mister
Ed doesn't feel up to it.

How do you know
how a horse feels?

Well, you can tell
by looking at him.

All he does lately is
just lie around the stall.

That's all he ever does.

There's a reason for that.

Ed is not supposed to
be on his feet too long.

- He's... he's go flat feet.
- Flat feet?

I didn't' want to worry
you about it, dear,

but when Ed had
his last checkup,

the vet said he really should be
wearing corrective horseshoes.

Wilbur, where do
you get these ideas?

It's not going to hurt a horse
to pose a few hours a day.

Standing still is the best
thing Mister Ed does anyway.

[shatters]

Oh, Wilbur, let me finish what's
left of the dishes by myself.

All right, but if Mister
Ed gets fallen arches,

it'll be on your conscience.

Well, Ed, I tried to get you
out of posing for this statue,

but Carol wouldn't hear of it.

Did you tell her why I won't?

How can I? She
wouldn't' believe me.

Tell her yourself.

You know I won't
talk to anyone but you.

That's what makes
my life so difficult.

Look, Ed. this sculptor will
be coming by in the morning.

Maybe you'll feel
differently then, huh?

No, Wilbur.

I'm not worthy of the
honor. I'm a bad seed.

The last of the outlaws.

You're no such thing.

- I am, too.
- Take it easy.

You've had a hard day. Why
don't you try to get some sleep?

Well, okay.

Maybe I will hit the hay.

That-a boy.

Sleep well, Ed. Good night.

- And, Ed.
- Yeah?

No matter what
happens, you're my horse.

[Ed whimpers]
Good night, Wilbur.

Heredity and the
Criminal Mind. Poor Ed.

[snoring]

Attention all cars,

be on the lookout for Mister Ed,

alias Shifty Ed,
alias Eddy the Dip.

Height... 15 hands, 2
fingers. Weight... 900 pounds.

Warning, this horse is
dangerous and may be armed.

[Man] That's him,
the one in the middle.

He robbed the bank. He did it.

That's the one. That's the one.

No, no. I didn't
do it. I didn't.

Oh, what's the use. I
can't pose for that statue.

I'm a bad horse.

Well, I see Light-fingered
Lily is back in town.

I'm, uh, just getting your
clothes ready for the cleaners.

Doing a pretty good job
at cleaning them yourself.

Oh, really, Addison. I've
just never known a man who...

- What's this?
- Here, give me that...

"American Breeders'
Association."

Kay, you have no
right to read my mail.

The return address
says Wilbur Post.

You have no right to
read his mail, either.

Now, if you're through
censoring the mail.

Addison, whenever your
mustache begins twitching,

I know you're up to something.

- I am not up to anything.
- What's all this about?

It's is nothing. It's
a joke on Wilbur,

and when he brings a check
over, I won't even accept it.

Check? Joke? I don't know
what you're talking about.

Kay, I haven't time
to explain to you now.

I'm busy. I've got a very
important engagement downtown.

I'm late for it already.

Addison, what are you
doing with Wilbur's letter?

[water running]

Tampering with the U.S.
mail is a federal offense.

You better give this letter
back to Wilbur immediately.

Addison, do you hear me?

You've got me so upset, I
don't know what I'm doing.

Good morning,
Ed. Time to get up.

Rise and sh...

Ed?

Ed...

[reading]

Carol, he's gone.

- Who's gone?
- Ed. He's run away.

I've got to call the
missing persons bureau.

- Wilbur.
- The missing horses bureau?

You're not going anywhere
until I find out what's going on.

Ed has run away.

Wilbur, are you hiding
that precious horse of yours

so that he won't have to do
something worthwhile for a change?

No, I am not hiding him.

[Kay and Addison arguing]

- Come along, Addison.
- This is not necessary.

My dear husband has
something to tell you, Wilbur.

Speak, boy.

Well, wait, wait,
now, this is just a joke.

Just a little joke, that's all.

I... I...

Wrote that letter you got from the
American Breeders' Association.

- You did?
- I never mailed yours.

Believe me, I had no
intention of taking your $50.

I just did it to stop you from
bragging about Mister Ed.

Oh, fine joke.

Somewhere out there is
a broken-hearted horse,

making up for the crimes
his family never committed.

What did he say?

You thought I acted strange

because I took a shower
with my pajamas on.

What did he say?

[groans] This darn
buckle's busted again.

Well, here goes
a life of hard labor.

Congratulations, madam.

You've just won a
two-week's trip to Honolulu.

Go on, honey. b*at it.

Scram. Aloha.

Sure is going to be a
scorcher today, Sally.

What is this?

You forgot your lunch, Tom.

Martha, somebody
switched horses on us.

Why would anybody do that?

Well, it beats me, but we
sure got the best of the bargain.

This fella's got another 10 or
15 years of good work in him.

[groans]

As long as you've got a
nice, young, strong horse,

why don't you fill up the wagon?

Yeah, I should do that. I
was going to take two trips,

but this young
fella will do it in one.

Pick up that stuff in
the south pasture, too.

I'll do that. I'll hitch
him up right away.

10, 15 years, whoa.

Wonder if I'll get time
off for good behavior.

[man spurring]

Pull. Come on, pull.

Just a little more. Pull. Pull.

Gee, my aching back.

I'll be right back.

Working is for horses, not me.

What's wrong with bad ancestors?

I've got to get out of
here before they k*ll me.

[Woman] Operator.

Hello, honey.

Would you get me State 11781?

You can dial that number, sir.

Uh, I can't see. Just
broke my glasses.

Very well, sir.
I'll get it for you.

[phone rings]

Hello.

[fake Japanese accent]
Hello, this is Japanese farmer.

You miss a horse, please?

Yes, but not...
Have you seen him?

So, you find a horse
1103 Moorpark Road.

No. No, do not want reward.

Just come-a get horse,

and... [sniff]...
Bring lots of liniment.

Oh, thank you very much.

Honey, I drove
all over the Valley.

There's no sign.

Wilbur, a Japanese
gentleman just called

and said we could find Mister Ed

at 1103 Moorpark Road.

A Japanese gentleman?

Come on, honey, let's go.

Honey, how did that man
know that we lost Mister Ed?

Well, I...

I guess he got it straight
from the horse's mouth.

[Mister Ed moaning]

Oh, a little more on
the shoulders, please.

[sighs]

- Feel better, Ed?
- Yeah, that's it.

It was awful, Wilbur.

He worked me like a
horse, and I'm a playboy.

Take it easy, Ed.

You'll feel better when
I sponge your down

with some nice hot water.

It was a dirty trick
Addison pulled on me.

Yes, it was.

I'd love to take him
for a ride some day.

Only one of us would come back.

Just settle down, Ed. Relax.

Wilbur, do you think there's a
chance I do come from royalty?

Well, we can still write to the
American Breeders' Association.

No, no, we both know
I came from a horse,

and that's good enough for me.

That-a boy.

[groans] Hey, you're
getting that in my eye.

Oh, sorry.

♪ 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 Mister 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 Mister Ed ♪

♪ People yakkity-yak a streak ♪

♪ And waste your time of day ♪

♪ But Mister Ed
will never speak ♪

♪ Unless he has
something to say ♪

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And this one will talk
till his voice is hoarse ♪

♪ You never heard
of a talking horse? ♪

♪ Well, listen to this ♪

[Mister Ed] ♪ I am Mister Ed ♪