01x19 - The Addams Family Splurges

[bunniefuu]

They're creepy and they're kooky

Mysterious and spooky

They're altogether ooky

The Addams family

The house is a museum

When people come to see 'em

They really are a scream

The Addams family

Neat.

Sweet.

Petite.

So get a witch's shawl on

A broomstick you can crawl on

We're gonna pay a call on

The Addams family

Querida m?a. Such grace, such beauty.

For you I die happily.

MORTICIA: Uncle Fester doesn't seem
to be very much impressed.

Same old humdrum.
Nothing new ever happens around here.

Oh, come, Uncle Fester.

Cousin Nanook sent us
that lovely new totem pole for Christmas.

And he asked for our bear in return.
He's a real Eskimo giver.

Would you like to take the vulture
for a little stroll?

- She seems to take to humans.
- Her favorite food.

I think I need a change. A trip, maybe.

Oh, I think that's a very good idea.
Don't you, Gomez?

I do indeed.

It's been a long time
since we've had a family outing.

Will you ever forget the fun
we had on that picnic?

What a lovely spot for a picnic.
Devil's Island.

There must be some...
How about the tar pits?

Now, Uncle Fester, every time we go near
those tar pits, you go wild.

It is a fun place, isn't it?

What's new? What is new?

I suppose Death Valley has been overrun
with tourists since we first discovered it.

Yes, darling. Listen, why don't we
go to Quanta La Gustra?

Quanta La Gustra?

Darling, that's the innkeeper's name.

Oh?

Oh, how disappointing.
It did sound romantic.

It's a problem.
We've been most everywhere.

We've never been to the moon.

That's true, we haven't.

It would be beguiling
to be on the moon with you, cara mia.

Especially if we landed on the dark side.

Darling.

But isn't that a bit far to go
for a holiday trip?

Well, we wouldn't run
into the same old faces.

That's true.

- It could be rather costly.
- All we need is a spaceship.

We could go to the playroom
and find out to the penny.

All we have to do is consult the computer
that Pugsley and I built.

Yeah, Wizzo knows everything.
Even told me how to cure my baldness.

- Is it working?
- No, but it cured my cough.

Darling, shall we?

It's such a comfort to have a machine
do our thinking for us.

Wizzo is a highly scientific instrument,
Uncle Fester.

It deals in facts. You have to feed it
specific, accurate data. Like this.

End result desired.
Cost of manned flight to the moon.

Elements.

GOMEZ: Load.

Thrust.

Orbit.

Act achieved. Plus.

Well expected.

Ampersand.

Tuner. sil*ncer cap.

- What's he saying?
- Wizzo only knows, dear.

That horn stopper.

Half mile prep ratio. Mark up.

"S." Plus.

Seeing to the launching pad.

And coffee to your milk in-flight.

It goes double first cabin all the way.

- Hey, it's gonna blow up!
- No, no, dear. Wizzo's just thinking.

He sure thinks loud.

The computer is carefully digesting
all pertinent data.

That's the sound of success.

Our answer on the cost of rocketing
to the moon will soon be here.

Thank you, dear.

Knows its manners.

Darling, this isn't too expensive.

It's just $21.13 over a billion.

It's a shade more than I expected.

Oh, I'll do my part.
I'll come up with the $21.13.

As a matter of fact, I don't even know
how much I have on hand right now.

Since I put all my finances
in Mr. Hulen's hands,

he's been handling everything.

A vacation trip to the moon?

Oh, it does sound enchanting, doesn't it?

I can hardly wait
to capture it all on canvas.

How do you like my moon hat?

Wait till Hedda Hopper gets a load of this.

- Well, it's all settled.
- No, it is not settled.

Do you realize what it would cost
to send a spaceship to the moon?

Well, of course. We don't just jump
into these things, you know.

Here is a feature story in today's paper

about the cost to our country
of their space program. Read it.

Wow! "Daily double pays $17,000."

No, no, not that. This.

Read it.
It's there in black and white. Billions!

Oh dear,
perhaps we are being a bit extravagant.

You may be right, querida.

Well, we can do without the limousine
and the forensicaffer.

- What's a forensicaffer, dear?
- Who knows?

Hey. Did you know
Little Orphan Annie's got no eyeballs?

That's part of her charm.

Will you please stick to the issue?
All this moon talk is absolutely absurd.

Now hold on there, Mr. Hulen.

My own personal computer claims
that a trip to the moon

would cost only one billion,
21 dollars and 13 cents.

Yeah, and I'm putting up the $21.13.

He just insists on doing his share.

Oh, well, that's just dandy.

But you're a trifle short on that billion.

- What's a trifle?
- This happens to be a very big trifle.

There must be some way
to pick up that kind of money.

I've got it. We'll invent something
that costs a dime to make,

sells for a dollar, and is habit-forming.

No, I don't think so, dear.
Habit-forming is a bad habit.

Well, now we're getting somewhere.
If you get any other bright schemes...

- Hey, wait a minute.
- Please, please. I've had a very trying day.

Now look, that daily double thing
paid $17,000 on only two winning horses.

Nice yield.

Now, what will happen
if we pick eight winners every day,

for, say, a whole month?

How much would that be?

- Way over a billion.
- Over? Good.

Then you wouldn't need my $21.13.

Will you please forget this moon business?

I tell you, it's impractical,
imprudent and absolutely impossible.

Mr. Hulen, are you trying
to discourage us?

I certainly am.

Don't b*at around the bush.
Just answer yes or no.

Look, it's tough enough
to hit a daily double.

To pick eight winners in a row
is almost impossible.

But to pick them
for 30 days is utterly preposterous.

- Are you sure?
- Positive.

What a challenge.

Dear Gomez,
he has an absolute flair for failure.

Well, he's a cinch.

Nobody could even begin
to pick that many winners.

- Wizzo could.
- Why, of course. Wizzo.

Why, he could do it with 20 watts tied
behind his back.

We could put the money to wonderful use.

Build a haven
for Ionely and unwanted bats.

Help preserve our beautiful swamplands.

Endow a University chair in witchcraft
and other fine arts.

That's all very uplifting, of course.
But it's still gambling.

This is no time for negativism, old boy.

As soon as Wizzo picks the right horses,

you'll get out to the track
and start the ball rolling.

You couldn't catch me putting $2
on any horse anytime.

$2? That's buzzardfeed.

How about $2,000? As a starter.

$2,000?

In other words, darling, you take
the money that we win on the first race

and then bet it on the second.
Is that the plan, dear?

- Exactly.
- Very clever, mon cher.

Oh, Tish, that French.
It goes right through me.

- Speak some more.
- Darling, we have company.

Just a few words.

Soup du jour.

Inky dinky parlez- vous. Moulin Rouge.
Anything.

Very well, darling.
L 'amour, toujours I'amour.

Thank you, Tish. That was beautiful.
Now where were we?

- We were winning a lot of money.
- Oh, yes!

We bet with Wizzo, and one month hence

we'll have an extra billion
to knick and knack around with.

Let's see. I seem to recall having
an extra couple of thousand to bet with

kicking around here somewhere.

Yes.

Thank you, Thing.

Here we are, Mr. Hulen. $2,000.

Not only cold cash but a little moldy, too.

Well, you seem quite intent upon
following through with this madness.

Nevertheless, I would like to leave you
with these few words,

"Gambling is the disease of barbarians."
Shakespeare.

"It's the vice of knaves and fools."
Benjamin Franklin.

And, "This whole scheme
is absolutely nutty." Ralph J. Hulen.

What a scholar.

How fortunate to have him
as our investment counselor.

And bookie.

Darling, a glove for Thing.

No, dear.
It's a sweater for Pugsley's octopus.

Yes, sir. Oh, Mr. Hulen,
you just missed a call from Mr. Addams.

That is the best thing
that's happened all day.

With a list of the horses
a Mr. Wizzo seems to have picked.

So, since you'll be at the track all day,
I'll just...

Their money is going to stay
right in my pocket.

And when that first horse loses,

they're going to be grateful to me
that I didn't throw it away.

- But Mr. Hulen, the first four races...
- This firm does not gamble.

We're a sound, conservative
investment institution.

Yes, Mr. Hulen.

But, sir, perhaps you'd better just check
the races on the radio. Just to be sure.

- It's a waste of time.
- Please, Mr. Hulen.

All right.

The fifth race should be on.
They've picked Nellie Bee.

ANNOUNCER ON RADIO: It was a driving
finish, and the winner is Nellie Bee

with English Gal second in the race.

That's five straight.

- Five straight?
- Oh, yes.

If you'd thrown away their money,
they'd now be winning $480,000.

Give me an aspirin.

Kind of felt you'd be asking for one.

If Wise Guy wins the next race,
we'll owe them $2,850,000.

- Who asked you?
- But...

Well, I'll just have to go to the Addamses,

apologize,
and then tell them I didn't place their bets.

What if they won't accept your apology?
What if they demand their money?

- What then?
- Simple. I'll sh**t myself.

ANNOUNCER: Coming down to
the line of finish now,

it's Oh For The Boy and Fleet O' Foot.

FESTER: Come on, Fleet O' Foot.

Fleet O' Foot is going to the front
by a head.

Now a neck, and it's Fleet O' Foot,
the winner by a furlong.

He did it. Good old Fleet O' Foot!

I... I need a drink.

- Isn't this marvelous?
- How much have we won?

Prices on the sixth race.
Fleet O' Foot paid $6 to win, $4.40 to place.

and $2.80 to show.

That means we now have...

Mr. Hulen!

You look really happy for us.

Mr. Hulen, just think,
we've already won over $7 million.

There must be some mistake.

Oh?

You were right, Mr. Hulen,
there was a mistake.

Yes.

Hey, aren't you supposed to be out
on the track placing bets for us?

Uncle Fester,
important men like Mr. Hulen

don't go running errands at the track.
That's for the staff. Right, Mr. Hulen?

Oh, yes. Yeah.

Oh, well, that brings up
an interesting thought.

Now let's suppose,
this is a hypothetical case of course,

but let's suppose that your investment
counselor hadn't placed any bets?

Hadn't placed any bets? Where's my g*n?

- I'd sh**t him in the back.
- Now, now, Uncle Fester.

This is an imaginary situation.
Isn't that right, Mr. Hulen?

Yes, of course.

But what would you do?

Since gambling bets
aren't enforceable by law...

Never mind about that.
I'd sh**t him in the back.

- Wouldn't that be rather drastic?
- For betrayal of trust?

Violation of professional ethics?

sh**ting in the back
would be too good for him.

No, I think it'd be about right.

- What do you think, Mr. Hulen?
- I think it's a little warm in here.

- Mr. Hulen, you need a drink.
- Yes... No, no!

You know, I think all of this talk
of gambling has upset Mr. Hulen.

And I don't blame him.

- There's something evil about it.
- Yes, it's just terrible.

I think for his sake we ought
to stop gambling, Gomez.

You may be right, querida.

All right, Mr. Hulen,
we're taking your advice.

- From now on, no more betting.
- Oh, thank heaven.

Now, if you'll just hand over the $8 million.

- $8 million?
- Well, you can keep the change.

You know, you were right, Gomez.
Especially after I read

what The Handicapper says
about our horse.

Granny's Lover. 100 to 1.

"Fell down, starting gate, Memorial Day.

"Pulled up lame last time out. A real dog."

You know,
we could have blown our whole bankroll.

Mr. Hulen, it was very lucky
that you came along when you did.

- Lucky? For whom?
- For us, old boy.

And I can tell by your expression that
that's all you really care about.

Such loyalty. Hits you right here.

Okay, eight million bucks.

It's locked in my safe at the office.

We'll go down with you. We can start
handing some of it out on the way back.

Well, could you hand some of it
out to me now?

Why, of course we could, Mr. Hulen.
How much would you like?

$8 million.

Mr. Hulen, have you been gambling?

A hypocrite.

I still think betting is wrong.

Especially a dog who hasn't won a race
for four years.

It'd be like throwing the money away.

That's right. But you can't quit now.
You're on a winning streak.

Mr. Hulen, how can you say things
like that?

Easy, remember? I'm a hypocrite.

- Oh, yes.
- But this horse is lame.

Excuses. Excuses.

Well, that's just a dodge
to drive the price up.

100 to 1. That's not bad.

Are you sure you're not a tout?

- Where's the old Addams spirit?
- Right in your safe. With that $8 million.

You can't back out now,
it would be immoral.

Mr. Hulen, you're very kind
to be concerned about us.

But we can see how
all this is upsetting you.

You were quite right when you said,
"Gambling is a disease of barbarians."

Well, I didn't say that. Shakespeare said it.

You quoted him.

Well, you know me. Big mouth.

And what about your dream?
The trip to the moon.

- It was a momentary whim.
- Whim?

Oh, a trip to the moon
can be, well, a liberal education.

- That's true.
- Of course.

- Still...
- No still about it.

Everybody should have a trip to the moon.

I like your spirit, Hulen.

You're not making much sense,
but I like your spirit.

So do I.

Darling, let's make one more bet.

- Just as a favor to Mr. Hulen.
- Oh, thank you, thank you.

My man's at the track
and he knows just what to do.

There goes $8 million.

What's $8 million when you got
a business manager like Mr. Hulen?

$8 million. Oh, the race is on television.
I'll get it on.

ANNOUNCER: They're on.
It's Banner in front. Toby's Boy is second.

Joey Belle is third by two lengths.
Darling Debby is fourth.

Granny's Lover didn't even get started.
Get moving, you ox.

Don't stand there, stupid, run!

Uncle Fester, please,
I do not like crude talk, even to horses.

Would you mind moving, sir?

Granny's Lover trailing.

Mr. Hulen, you don't seem to understand.
Our horse is losing.

- Yes.
- That's bad.

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

Poor Mr. Hulen,
I don't think he knows what's going on.

State of shock.

At the mile turn it's Toby's Boy by a head.
Banner is second to half.

Joey Belle third on the outside.
Darling Debby is fourth the length.

And here comes Granny's Lover.

He heard me. He heard me. He heard me!

Ride it, you old rascal!

You gave Mr. Hulen such a fright.

Come on, something.

Granny's Lover is fifth!

He's fourth! He's third!

Mr. Hulen, do you hear?
Our horse is gaining.

Cheer up, old man.

Somehow I have the feeling that
Mr. Hulen is not enjoying this race.

The excitement is too much for him.

- I'd better turn it off.
- No, no, don't please.

I couldn't stand the suspense.

Joey Belle and Granny's Lover.
Joey Belle and Granny's Lover.

Joey Belle and Granny's Lover.

Granny's Lover on the outside
is going to the front. He's driving!

Joey Belle's on the move.
Here he comes. He's moving up again.

Head and head.
Joey Belle and Granny's Lover.

- They're heading for the wire.
- Heading for the wire?

Shouldn't they finish the race first?

That's just an expression, querida.
Pay no attention.

- Come on.
- I can't bear to watch.

They're nose and nose!

I can't even bear to listen.

And the winner is...

Granny's Lover!

Mr. Hulen?

Mr. Hulen?

That Hulen, can you imagine?
Going to sleep during that race?

Darling, let's wake him up
and tell him the good news.

Mr. Hulen?

- The race is over.
- Did Joey Belle win?

Granny's Lover finally came through.

ANNOUNCER ON TV:
Just a moment, ladies and gentlemen.

I don't like the way he said that.

Granny's Lover has been disqualified
for crowding, shoving and kicking.

How ridiculous. What else do they expect
from a horse?

Well, I guess we'd better wake Mr. Hulen
and break the news to him.

Let him sleep, darling.
Poor man will be so disappointed.

Serves him right, the tout.

Well, there's one consolation.
It's still a nice round figure.

I'm glad we didn't go to the moon.

Yeah, I found out that there's no fish
on the moon.

We need some new fish for our aquarium.
Ours ate each other up.

Oh, Gomez, the children
will be so disappointed.

You know how they love their pet piranha.

Think no more about it, my dear.

There's always one man who's ready
to help us with our problems.

Mr. Hulen.

Hello, Mr. Hulen? Addams here.

I just called to tell you that I'm taking
my family on a nice, long cruise.

You are a darling.

We're going to gather some fish
for our children's collection.

New ones.

Have to go deeper and deeper, you know.

So would you be a good chap
and run out and buy us a submarine?

With nuclear power, of course.

Mr. Hulen?

Hulen?

By Jove, I think he's fallen asleep again.

Strange man.
Nothing seems to excite him.