08x14 - Good Neighbor Sam

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "Newhart". Aired: October 25, 1982, - May 21, 1990.*
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d*ck Loudon and wife Joanna relocate from New York City to a small town in Vermont, where they run the historic Stafford Inn.
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08x14 - Good Neighbor Sam

Post by bunniefuu »

- Hi, honey, making any
progress on your new book?

- No, but I did come
up with a great title.

Decoys: A Duck's
Date with Death.

- You definitely cornered
the children's market.

- All I have to do by tomorrow
is come up with an intro,

18 chapters, a bibliography

and someone to
write the damn thing.

- If you're having
trouble, I could help.

- Oh, that's very sweet, honey,
but I haven't sunk that low yet.

- Well, I'm officially
off maternity leave.

Where's my welcome back party?

- Uh...

We decided to put that money
toward your retirement party.

- We almost have enough saved
for a solid gold feather duster.

- Oh, how sweet.

And tacky.

Well, long as I'm here, I
might as well do something.

Where should I start?

- Well, there are
beds to be made.

- You can't expect
me to go upstairs,

I just had a baby.

- How about the laundry?

- You can't expect
me to go downstairs,

I just had a baby.

- What can we expect you to do?

- I could use a refill.

- Joanna, as long
as you're up...

- Well, Stephanie, motherhood
certainly hasn't changed you.

- Oh, thank you.

- Now... now that
you're back to work,

how do you plan
to fill up your days?

- Well...

I'll just sit here on the
sofa and look pretty.

- Now, that's George's job.

- Oh.

Well, then I'll sit here and
greet all your silly guests.

Let's just hope
no one checks in.

- Do you have
reservations for Sam Leary?

- Looks like one
of your silly guests.

- Oh, welcome to the
Stratford, enjoy your stay.

Hi, I'm... I'm d*ck Loudon.

You'll have to forgive
our... our greeter,

she's... she's new
and totally apathetic.

- Well, I wouldn't blame her,

I always bring out
the worst in people.

Anyway, that's what Margaret
said in her goodbye letter.

You want to hear it?

- No, it's not...

- Anyway, it might
make you understand...

me a little bit better.

It says, "Dear Sam, you
bring out the worst in people.

That's why I'm leaving you.

I'm also taking the kids,

the mobile home
and your brother Mel."

- Your, uh, wife had an
affair with... with your brother?

- Oh, he was taking a
nap in the mobile home.

- Well, you know what they
say, time... time heals all wounds.

- Yeah, well that's what
Mel and the kids told me

five years ago from a
payphone in Tucson.

- That's room... room two,
at the t-top of the stairs.

- And t-take care.
- Thanks pal.

Oh!

Oh, wow, look at that!

Oh, wow, covered bridge.

Nice! How much?

- It's yours. It's...
it's on the house.

- Yeah, bet you
give one of these

to every sad sack that
comes through here.

- No, y-you're the
inaugural sad sack.

- So, what do you guys
do for fun around here?

- Well, sometimes
at night, you know,

we'll bring out the
old checkerboard

and play one game, maybe two.

- And d*ck's been
known to get wild

and pop some popcorn.

- Hey, I like popcorn
and checkers.

Maybe I'm good
for a game or two.

- Oh, I-I'm sorry but I-I'm
busy writing a book on decoys

and, as a matter... a matter
of fact, I better get quacking.

- Oh, that's okay.

I'll just stumble up to
my lonely room and, uh...

pull down the shades and weep.

- Well, you know,
maybe... maybe one game.

- Oh, wow, that's good.

I'm really good.

I used to play
against the computer.

Until Margaret
drove away with it.

Did I tell you that
she took my brother?

- Yeah, yeah.

Well, you know, at
least... at least he has

something to play with
when he... when he wakes up.

The... the computer, I
mean, not, you know,

not... not... not Margaret.

That's a good one.

I haven't laughed in five years.

- Welcome to the
Stratford, enjoy your stay.

- Gee, thanks Stephanie.

- Oh, it's you.

You live here. You
couldn't possibly enjoy it.

- Something is horribly
wrong with this room.

d*ck, did somebody
buy the postcard

of the covered bridge?

- I-I-I gave it away, George.

- Was this person a
member of your family

or close personal friend?

- N-No.

- Was this person
somebody who pulled you out

of a burning
building as a child?

No.

- Was this person
Mamie Van Doren?

- No, no. But that's
three down, George.

I'm afraid I'm going to have
to turn over all the cards.

I, uh, I gave it
to... to a guest.

- Huh. You never
gave me a postcard.

Come to think of it, you
never give me anything.

- Take... take a
postcard, George.

- I'd rather have
the tape dispenser.

- Okay, it's yours.
It's a birthday present.

- Well, thanks for
spoiling the surprise.

- Come to think of it, d*ck.

You haven't given me
anything for quite a while.

- I just gave you a
six-week maternity leave

and... and a carriage
house to live in.

- I mean office supplies.

- Here. Here are
some rubber bands.

- Eww, the thin ones.

- Sam, y-you do know
i-it's your move, don't you?

- You asked me that
same thing 20 minutes ago.

- Yeah, except this
time I'm saying it

with a certain sarcastic
edge in my voice.

- Okay, if you want to
play speed checkers.

Argh, okay.

Let's play another one, okay?

- Sam, you've
lost four in a row.

You're lousy at this.

- But I let you win.

I mean, that's the
least I could do,

you gave me that
wonderful postcard.

- Great, there's
nothing I enjoy more

than a... than a good
thrown game o-of checkers.

- Is my new friend
getting mad at me?

- No, but my... my book
is... is waiting for me

and I... I really
should get quacking.

- It wasn't funny
the first time, d*ck.

- Well, why would
anyone want to play

with a sad sack anyway?

- You know, i-it's funny but,

you don't hear the expression
sad sack for like, 25 years

and then you hear it
twice in the same day.

- Sort of like your
quacking joke.

- Thank you, Stephanie.

Oh, J-Joanna would you
like t-to play some checkers?

- No. I don't play with women.

They cheat, every one of them.

- Sure, I'd love to play a game.

- Well, uh, you can't.

Y-You'll cheat.
Every damn one of ya.

- Welcome to the
Stratford, enjoy your stay.

- What could be greater,
my girlie's a greeter.

- Michael, I was so
caught up in my work,

I didn't notice you.

- Gadzooks, you're
still on the clock?

My Cuppers runneth overtime.

- Oh, Michael, I'm exhausted.

I just want to go home,
put my feet up on the sofa

and read some magazines.

Joanna's been running me ragged.

- My god.

Is there no charity under
that big furry sweater?

- Why do I bother to
come into the lobby?

- Well, this family
man is famished.

What say you, me, and the babe

blow this berg for a burger?

- Okay. Let's get snackin'.

- Oh, G-George, I'd like
you to meet, uh, Sam Leary.

This is, uh, George
Utley, our handyman.

- So, you're the guy d*ck gave
the covered bridge postcard to.

He gave me a tape dispenser.

- Well, I'd rather
have my postcard.

- Me too.

- Okay, the winner goes first.

- I-I've got a good five
or six hours of work

ahead of me tonight.

- All right, I'll just sit here

and, you know, keep
myself entertained.

- You're, uh, checking
out tomorrow, right?

- Afraid so.

- Okay, play it again, Sam.

- Okay, okay, okay.

- Say, if I weren't
your employee,

I'd fire you, it's almost 9.

- I was up half the night
playing checkers with Sam.

You know, you meet
up with a guy like that,

it's hard to blame Margaret.

And Mel and the
kids, for that matter.

- I hear ya.

I don't know what the
hell you're talking about,

but I hear ya.

Welcome to the
Stratford, enjoy your stay.

It's me, Stephanie.

Oh! In that case, never mind.

- d*ck, guess what?

I just sold the house next door
and made a huge commission.

- Oh, that's great, honey.

Welcome to the
Stratford, enjoy your stay.

I'm not a guest
anymore, Stephanie,

I bought the house next door.

Hi, neighbor!

- Chapter 12.

"Planning a decoy
takes time and patience

"so you better get quacking."

I can't start off every
chapter with the same joke.

- d*ck, you miserable turncoat.

- Whatever you say, Michael.

- From my mouth, I'm frothing.

- See a vet.

Michael, I'm busy.

- Well, let's not b*at
around the bush.

The word on the street,
the buzz on the boulevard,

the talk on the turnpike

is that Sam's your
new best friend.

- Well, the street,
the boulevard

and the turnpike
are lying, Michael.

- You mean, I'm still
your primo amigo?

- I don't have a primo amigo.

- Of course, you do.
C'est moi, c'est moi.

'Tis I!

You remember the time
I had no place to stay,

you let me sleep here for free?

- I never thought you'd pay.

- See, only a best
friend would know that.

- We rushed over as soon as
we heard the word on the street.

It's just too awful.

- Appreciate the
sympathy, seniors.

Losing Dicklet as my best friend

has been a big
blow to this little Joe.

- Your best friend?

d*ck's my best friend.

- Your best friend?

He's my best friend.

- Everybody in town knows

that you're each
other's best friend.

- Just because we've seen
each other every day of our lives

since kindergarten?

- Well, it's just a
friendship of convenience.

- This is the blackest
day of my life.

- Don't tell me. My
best friend, Mr. Rusnak.

- I trusted you and
you threw me over

for some fresh-faced sad sack.

At least that's the
word on the street.

- M-Mr. Rusnak, I am
not your best friend.

As a matter of fact,

I-I don't even know
your... your first name.

- It's Art.
- Art.

- Say it like you mean it.

- Art!
- Feels good, huh?

- Bottom line, d*ck,

what's Sammy
got that we got not?

- Other than that
stunning postcard?

- Look, for the hundredth
time, Sam is not my best friend.

Now get out of
here, I got work to do.

- Hi guys.

Hi buddy, it's picnic time.

- Oh, this explains
the sudden send-off.

- Sam, what are you doing here?

- You know very well
what he's doing here.

- Tell me, how can you
mend a broken heart?

- Not even the Bee
Gees figured that one out.

- Do you like pastrami?

- My best friend would
know if I liked pastrami.

- Well, I bet my best
friend likes pimento loaf.

- L-Look, Sam, I-I am
not your best friend.

I-i don't have a best friend.

And even if I did,
h-he'd never be so... so...

- Tall?
- Overbearing.

- You think I'm overbearing?

- Yes.

- Okay.

Okay, right, right.

I get ya. I can take a hint.

- Good.

- You think I'm overbearing?

I'm overbearing?

I mean, I shared my deepest
darkest secrets with you!

- I-I didn't want to know
about Margaret's early days

as a contortionist.

- Well, I thought
you wanted to know

how I ruptured my groin.

Here, I think this
postcard belongs to you.

I'm just glad I didn't have it
laminated on my lunchbox.

- Chapter 12.

"How to Laminate Postcards
On Your Duck Decoy."

- Joanna.

We have to talk.

This greeter job
isn't fulfilling me.

My talents are being wasted.

- Finished all the
magazines, huh?

- Yeah.

- Joanna, would you toast this
pimento loaf sandwich for me?

- I'll do it.

- You're giving up
on your greeting job?

- It wasn't fulfilling me.

It was a waste of my talents.

- Finished all the
magazines, huh?

- Yeah.

- Out, woman.

We've got business to
discuss with your husband.

Manly business.

- Okay, that's it.

I am never coming
into this lobby again.

- Now what?

- Word on the street is you
dumped your best friend, Sam,

because he's overbearing.

- Wh-Where is this street
you're always talking about?

- Actually, it's
your front porch.

You can hear
everything out there.

- Since when
did you start liking

toasted pimento loaf sandwiches?

- We had you pegged
a pastrami man.

- Well, you're wrong. Now go.

- Not so fast.

You still haven't filled
that recently vacated

best friend slot.

Line up, men.

- Okay, d*ck, take your pick.

- This is idiotic.

- d*ck's right. A
line won't work.

Let's form a circle.

Then d*ck can close his
eyes, spin around and point.

- Spin around and point?

I-I could wind up with
that... that armchair

or... or worse...
worse yet, Mr. Rusnak.

Look.

A friendship has to be...

has to be developed and
nurtured and it has to be mutual.

I mean, y-you can't pick
your best friend out of a hat.

- Why not?

- Because we don't have a hat.

- Would a cap do?

- Well, it's a little
avant-garde for this town.

- Oh, what the hell,
Chester, it's the '90s.

- d*ck, can I have my
picnic basket back?

It's been in the
family for years.

Thank you.

- Gee, Sam doesn't
seem overbearing at all.

- In fact, he seems
rather pleasant.

- And well-groomed, too.

Check out the shine
on those Florsheims.

- He'd make the
ultimate dream friend.

- Well, thank you very much.

Thank you. I've got to go.

I'm having some
builders come over

to give me an
estimate on the moat.

- Since you were
d*ck's last best friend,

you should pick out
his next best friend.

- Don't I have
any choice in this?

No.

- Look, I'll pick,
but why would you

want him for a best friend?

I mean, there's no
pleasing this guy.

- Come to think of
it, d*ck is a rather...

crotchety old thing.

- Not much in the
personality department.

- So true, and all
he does is whine.

- He's not much
fun to be around,

except when he tells
that quacking joke.

- But it's hardly enough
to build a friendship on.

- Too bad we can't be
our own best friends.

- By George,
George, you've got it!

We'll just bob for names

and be each other's
cherished chums.

- Hey, can I play? My
last chum was a real dud.

- Okay, Sam's in.

That makes it an even six.

- I wonder what I
could get for this place.

- Jim.

Well, I guess I'm
my own best friend.

- Chester.

Not a bad choice.

- Hey, I got me, babe!

- I got Mr. Rusnak.

- Bummer.

- Was.

Whoops.

Sam.

- I wonder who I'll get.

- It's anybody's guess, George.

- George.

Oh, that's me.

- Well, I think it's safe to say

that you all deserve yourselves.

- Well, I think I'll take my
best friend out to dinner.

- Oh, can me and my
best friend tag along?

- Sure.
- Hey, how about the two of us?

- Me and me could use a bite.

- Yeah, we're starved.

- Us, too. I hope we
can get a table for 12.

- Oh, d*ck?

The guys on the street
would like to know

if you'd like to tag along?

You know, I mean,
find an extra chair.

- No, uh, 13 at a
table is... is bad luck.

- Right.

Can I have my postcard back?

- No.
- See ya.

- Meow.
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