01x28 - Dennis and the Starlings

[bunniefuu]

-Dennis, why are you
standing in the corner?

-You'll find out as
soon as the phone rings.

[phone rings]

[theme music]

-All right.

-What in the world are you
doing that for, Mr. Wilson?

-Hello, Mr. Dorfman.

Oh, I'm trying to chase away
these blasted starlings.

They're just ruining my garden.

-Yeah, they're all
over the neighborhood.

-Yeah.

Well, according to a book
I have on pest control,

loud noises are supposed
to scare 'em away.

-They don't look
very scared to me.

-Yeah.

But I've just gotta
keep on trying.

Uh, some mail for me?

-Oh, yeah.

There's a magazine.

-Oh, thanks.

-And your telephone bill and
a letter from Mrs. Wilson.

-Oh.

Anything else?

You see, tomorrow's my birthday.

I was expecting a few cards.

-Well, I'll just take a look.

How long is Mrs. Wilson
going to be away?

-Oh, as long as her
mother needs her.

Can't say for sure.

-No, I'm afraid
that's all for today.

-What's that one?

That looks like my
sister's handwriting.

-Oh, that's for Miss Cathcart.

-Oh.

-Boy, do I hate to
deliver mail there.

-Is she still chasing you?

-Still chasing and still
singing those songs.

Do you know that
she usually waits

for me right by the mailbox?

-Oh, down by that arch, huh?

-No, no.

It's up on the front porch now.

She moved it up there so she'd
get a better crack at me.

-Oh, those blasted birds.

Go away!

-You seem to have more
of them than anyone.

-I know and I just
can't understand it.

I'm certainly doing my
part to drive them off.

-Boy, you sure have
thrown a lot of bread

into Mr. Wilson's
yard this week.

-Yeah.

Before I started
doing it, he didn't

have practically any
starlings at all.

-Maybe he doesn't
like starlings.

-Mr. Wilson?

Sure he does.

Mr. Wilson loves all birds.

He's even a member
of the bird watchers.

-Yeah.
That's right.

-Tomorrow's Mr.
Wilson's birthday.

And you know what I'm going
to get him for a present?

-What?

-A whole loaf of bread to
feed his starlings with.

-I wonder who's doing
all that banging?

-I don't know, but
I wish they'd stop.

They're making the birds so
nervous they might fly away.

--Well, those starlings
sure make a lot of noise.

-Sure.

That's the best
thing about them.

'Cause all the time
they're singing.

-Shoo!

Oh, that screeching is
driving me out of my-- Say,

maybe a different
kind of sound would--

-[whistling]

-The door.

-Oh, great Scott!

I'm locked out.

Oh, shut up!

-Mr. Dorfman, were you
trying to hide from me again?

-Oh, no, Miss Cathcart.

I, I just didn't
want to disturb you.

I thought perhaps you
were taking a nap.

-I've got some cookies
and milk waiting for you.

-Oh, well, I can't stop
now, Miss Cathcart.

I've got to deliver the mail

-Oh, in these filthy shoes?

Now you come right in the house.

I'll get my nice
brightening for you.

-Uh, that's right.

You'll have to pick the lock.

The address is Elm Street.
That's right.

Fine.

Well, I'll expect
you right away.

Goodbye.

Thanks for the use of
the phone, Mitchell.

-Oh, that's all
right, Mr. Wilson.

How'd you lock yourself out?

-Oh, well, I, I was
out on the front porch

trying to scare
the starlings away,

and uh, uh, a draft
caught the door.

-These starlings are a
real problem this year.

I've never seen so many.

They're all over
the neighborhood.

-I'm home!

-How many times have I told
you about slamming that door?

Now go back out,
and come in again.

-OK.

-Well, I think I'd
better be running along.

-Hi, Mr. Wilson.

Boy, are you glad to see me.

-Oh?
Why?

-'Cause tomorrow's
your birthday,

and I got a swell
surprise for ya.

-Why, Dennis.

That was very nice of you.

You're my good little friend.

-I know it.

You want me to sit on your lap?

-Eh, well.

Ooh!

-'Scuse me, Mr. Wilson.

Did I put my knee
in your stomach?

-Yes, you did.

-I'll get off and get on again.

-Oh, no.

Aren't you going to
tell me what you're

giving me for my birthday?
-Heck, no.

Then it wouldn't be a surprise.

-Well, aren't you even
going to give me a hint?

-Nope.

But you'll like it.

What are you doing
over here, Mr. Wilson?

-Oh, I came over to use the
telephone to call a locksmith.

I, I can't get into
my house, Dennis.

-How come you can't
get into your house?

-Well, I was out on the front
porch, and a gust of wind

blew the door shut behind me.
-Geepers.

I'll climb up your drain pipe
and go in your bedroom window.

-No!

-How about if I climb
down your chimney?

-Certainly not!

-How 'bout if we bust a window?

-Oh, of course not.

Dennis, I think you'd
better run out and play.

-OK.

-Mr. Wilson, about
those starlings.

There must be something we
can do to get rid of them.

-Oh, I've done
everything I know.

I've beaten Martha's
dishpan to a pulp.

-How about calling
in professional help?

-Well, I don't know
what good that would do.

If I got rid of them in my yard,
they'd just fly back in from

somebody else's.
-That's right.

The whole neighborhood
ought to be cleared.

-But who could afford
to pay for that?

-Well, it wouldn't be so bad if
we made a neighborhood project

out of it and asked
everybody to chip in.

-Why, Alice, that's
a wonderful idea!

-Yes, honey, that's a good idea!

-Well, by golly, let's do it.

I know just the man
to get for the job.

Of course, he's a
crusty old bachelor,

but he certainly
knows his business

when it comes to getting
rid of starlings.

-Well, we'll have to organize
the neighborhood first.

Find someone who's
well-known, reliable, and has

organization ability.

-In other words, a leader.

-Yeah!

-I'll get started right away.

-Papa didn't believe
in women voting.

Neither do I.
Mother always said,

a woman's place is in the home.

It's the man's place
out in the world.

Voting or delivering
mail, or whatever he does.

[doorbell rings]

-Now, who I you
suppose that can be?

Oh, don't worry.

I'll get rid of them.

[doorbell rings]

-Hi, Miss Cathcart.

Oh, I'm quite busy now.

-I want to ask you something.

-Oh, well, very well.

What is it?

-Will you give me a
piece of bread so I can--

-Hey!

What are you doing
with that shoe?

-Never mind.

-That looks like a man's shoe.

-Well, never mind that.

-Are you shining
somebody's shoes again?

-It doesn't concern you, Dennis.

-Hi, Mr. Dorfman!

-For pity's sake.

Dennis, you can go
out to the kitchen

and get a piece of bread.

-And if I come back,
will you shine my shoes?

-No, I won't because I'm
entertaining Mr. Dorfman.

Now after you get the bread,
you go out the back way.

-OK, Miss Cathcart.

That way, we won't be disturbed.

-Uh, Miss Cathcart, my,
my foot is getting cold,

-Oh, well, it's those
thin socks you wear.

Don't you worry.

I'm going to knit
you some wool ones

-Well, it's not the
socks, Miss Cathcart.

You have my shoe.

-Oh, I'm sorry.

I'll hurry.

There now.

Isn't that shiny?

-Yes, that's fine,
Miss Cathcart.

Thank you.

Well, I better be--

-You know, mother couldn't
stand dusty shoes,

and she always said a woman's
place was to take of a man

and entertain him.
-Well, I better be going.

-Well, I better be going.
-I haven't entertained you yet.

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me.

Starlight and dewdrops
are waiting for thee.

[doorbell rings]

-Oh, for goodness sake.

Now who could that be?

Be back in a moment.

-Miss Cathcart.

I've got to talk.

-Well, not right now, Mr.
Wilson, I'm entertaining.

-Who?
-Mr. Dorfman.

Mr. Dorfman!

-Now, um, what I wanted
to talk to you about--

-One minute, please, Mr. Wilson.

-Mr. Dorfman?

-Miss Cathcart, I have a number
of other people to contact,

so I'll get right to the point.

The starlings in this area
have become such a problem

that joint action must be taken.

-What starlings?

-What starlings?

Why, they're swarming all
over the neighborhood.

-We haven't had any around here.

Ah, he got away.

-They must be around here.

-Well, I haven't heard
or seen one in my yard.

-If you don't have them
now, you soon will have.

Now I'm asking everybody
in the neighborhood

to contribute toward
hiring a professional

to get rid of them.

-I don't see why I
should contribute

when they haven't
been bothering me.

-But, Miss Carthcart.

It's like the plague.

Why, no one's immune.

And once they get into your
yard, like they are in mine,

you'll sign up quickly enough.

-Well, suppose I agree.

How do I know this professional
could get rid of them?

-Oh, the man I have in mind
has an excellent reputation.

Of course, you might not
like him as a person.

He's a crusty old codger.

-I still don't see why
I should contribute.

-But, uh, then I
guess a person gets

crusty when he owns
his own business

and is so successful
and so alone.

He's a bachelor.

-I'll get my purse.

-Now, do you think you can
do the job, Mr. Prince?

We want to clear the
entire neighborhood.

-Of course he can do it.

-How would you know?

-Well,--
-Of course I can do it.

Results are guaranteed.

-Ah, fine.

Now, we don't want
the birds hurt.

We just want them driven away.

-He wouldn't hurt them.

-This lady your wife?

-No, I'm a maiden lady.

I'm Miss Carthcart.

I'm not married.

-Figures.

Don't worry.

I won't hurt them.

-Ah.

Now, uh, what's your technique?

-Ah.

I have it right
here in the safe.

Yes, just play it
over the phonograph.

-Do you mean to tell
me we're paying you

$ just to play a
phonograph recording?

-No, you're paying me $
to get rid of the starlings.

And this record will do it.

-Hmm.

Well, how's it work?

-This is the cry of
a wounded starling.

I spent two weeks in the woods
before I could get this record.

Now when the other
starlings hear it,

they fly away from what they
think is a source of danger.

-Why, that's
absolutely brilliant.

-Common sense.

I'll be at your house at :
tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Wilson.

-Oh, I tell you, getting
rid of those starlings

will make it the finest
birthday I've ever had.

I want both of you to be
there at : tomorrow

to see how it works.

We'll have a little party.

-Wonderful!

And I may as well
tell you right now,

I baked you a birthday cake.

And I'll bring it
along when I come.

-Oh, now, Alice.

You shouldn't have.

What flavor?

-Chocolate.

-Oh, Mitchell, you have
a wonderful family.

Ooh, I want you to
bring Dennis over, too.

He has a little surprise
for me, you know.

-Well, I wouldn't expect
too much, Mr. Wilson.

-Oh?

Well, uh, didn't you
go shopping with him?

-Oh, no.

We, we don't even
know what it is.

-It's apparently
something's he's

gotten together by himself.

-Well, probably a
collection of some kind.

I'll treasure it all the more.

-Hi, Mr. Wilson!

-Oh, hello, Dennis.

-Boy, Mom, now that
we have company,

can I stay up for a while?

-Oh, I'm just going home.

-Say your good nights,
and go to bed, dear.

-OK Goodnight, Mr. Wilson.

-Goodnight.
Oh.

Uh, just a minute, Dennis.

I want you to come over to my
house tomorrow at : o'clock

because, well, we're
having a little party.

-Swell!

That's 'cause It's your
birthday, huh, Mr. Wilson?

-Well, partly that.

But mostly because
tomorrow I hope

to get rid of those starlings.

-Get rid of them?

-That's right.

Well, Mitchells, goodnight.

I'll be running along.

-Fine.
Goodnight, Mr. Wilson.

-Goodnight.

-All right, young man.

Up to bed.

-Wait a minute, Mom.

Doesn't Mr. Wilson
like starlings?

-He sure doesn't.

-They're ruining his garden.

-But I thought he loved birds.

-Well, he does. but--

-Mr. Wilson just
refuses to admit

that a starting is a bird.

-Sure, they're birds.

They're swell birds.

They got feathers
and everything.

-Well, don't you
worry about it, son.

-Can you tell us
what it is you giving

Mr. Wilson for his birthday?

I don't know now.

I kind of think what I was
giving him isn't his favorite.

Maybe what I'll do is get
rid of the starlings for him.

-You do that, son.

-Goodnight, dear.
Goodnight, son.

-'Night, Mom 'Night,Dad.

Hey, Mom?

-Hmm?

-I need some liver.

OK?

-Mmm.

It's in the refrigerator.

-Honey.

Honey, was Dennis just in here?

-Mmm?

-I just had the craziest dream.

I dreamt Dennis came in here
and asked for some liver.

-Hmm.

That was a crazy dream,
all right, honey.

Go back to sleep.

-Yeah?

-Hey, Tommy!

Mr. Wilson wants to
get rid of starlings.

Not have 'em.

-Yeah?

And I gotta help
him get rid of them

because today's his birthday.

-How you gonna do that?

-With this swell liver.

Come on.

You better get your clothes on.

You gotta help me.

-OK.

-Good morning!

-Dennis, where have you been?

Now sit down.

Your breakfast is ready.

-I've been with Tommy.

We're going to get rid of
Mr. Wilson's starlings.

Thanks for the liver, Mom.

-Dennis, where on earth
did you get liver?

-Don't you remember, Mom?

I came in your bedroom and
asked for it this morning.

-I'll just put this over here.

-Thank you, Miss Cathcart.

-Are we going to

-I don't think it's that
kind of a party, son.

-Didn't you bring his present?

-It's going to be
a surprise, Mom.

-Oh, my.

Why, you handled that as though
it weighed practically nothing.

-That's just about
what it does weigh.

-Oh.

Well, perhaps after you
play your record here,

we could go over to
my house and play.

It.

In a while.

-I thought the starlings
weren't bothering you.

-Oh, well, they're not.

But--

[doorbell rings]

-Uh, excuse me.

I'll get it.

-Oh, Mitchell, Alice.

Well, we're about set.

-Happy birthday Mr. Wilson.

-Oh.

Thank you, Alice.

-Oh, hello, Dennis.

Did you want something?

-Did you forget, Mr. Wilson?

You invited me to your party.

-Yes, I guess I did.

Mr. Prince and Miss
Cathcart are already here.

We're about set to go.

Come on in.

-Thank you.

-Hi, everybody!
-Hello, Miss Cathcart.

-Hi, Miss Cathcart.

-Hello.

-Oh, uh, Mr. Prince, I want you
to meet Mr. And Mrs. Mitchell.

And Dennis.

-How do you do?

-How do you do?

-Hi.

-We're anxious to
see if this works.

-Oh, don't sorry.

It works, all right.

-Well, sit down, everybody

-Look out!

-You were about to
sit on my record.

-Boy, that was close.

Did you notice that, Mr. Wilson?

I didn't do it.

-All right, Dennis.

-Why, I'd rather lose my
right arm than that record.

It'd take me weeks to
have it duplicated.

-I'll plug the record
player in for you.

-I'll do it!

-I'll do it.

That's all ready.

-You like him, don't
you, Miss Cathcart?

-Well, yes.

-Do you like him as much
as you like Mr. Dorfman?

-Yes.

-Are you going to
shine his shoes?

-Dennis!

-TOMMY (OFFSCREEN : Dennis.

Come on out and play baseball.

-Yes, dear, what
a wonderful idea.

Why don't you go out and
play baseball with Tommy?

-Yes, son.
Run along outside and play.

-But what about the starlings?

-Oh, you can see
what happens outside.

-But what about the cake?

-Oh, we'll call you
in time for that.

-OK.

You know what I'm
going to do 'cause

it's your birthday, Mr. Wilson?

I'm going to hit you a home run.

-Oh, well, fine.

You do that.

All right, now.

Run along.

-Well, if you're all
ready, I'll go ahead.

-Oh, yes.

We're ready and
waiting, Mr. Prince.

-Shall I unwrap
the record for you?

-No!

Nobody touches
this record but me.

It's far too valuable.

Ah, yes.

Two weeks in the woods
to get this record.

The only other copy in
existence is in Tennessee.

-Tennessee!

My!

There it is.

-Oh.

-All right, Tommy.

Right over the plate.

I'm going to hit a home run
for good ole Mr. Wilson.

-All right.

Here it comes.

-Oh, blast!

-Oh, no!

Oh, great Scott!
-Oh, no!

-I'll skin that boy alive!

-Mitchell, this
is the last straw!

-Well, now, remember,
Mr. Wilson, he

was hitting it
for your birthday,

-Oh!

Dennis Mitchell!

-Happy birthday, Mr. Wilson!

Was it a good one?

I didn't see where it went.

-Do you realize what
that boy is doing to me?

-Doing to you?

Look what he's done to me!

Two weeks in the woods
in the cold and the wet,

hiking over mountains,
surrounded by wild animals.

And now it's gone.

Oh, gosh!

-I'm so sorry, Mr. Prince.

-If there's anything I can do
to make it up you, Mr. Prince,

you just let me know.

-You can spend two weeks
in the woods for me.

-Now, there's no
point in being gloomy.

After all, this
is a party, and i

know just what I'm going
to do to cheer you up.

-Now, Miss Cathcart.

I don't think--

-Hum.

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me.

Starlight and dewdrops
are waiting for thee.

-Is that what a wounded
starling sounds like?

-Heck, no.

That's good ole Miss Cathcart.

Doesn't she sing swell?

[singing]

-Hey, look!

They're all flying out
of Mr. Wilson's yard!

[singing] Beautiful
dreamer, awake unto me.

-Hey!

Soon as you started to sing,
all the starlings flew away.

-What's that?

-What?

Why, great Scott!

They are flying away!

-Honey, look at 'em go!

-Yes!

-Sing, Miss Cathcart, sing!

-Well, I really
don't think that--

-Do it for me.

-Oh, well.

Hum, hum.

Just a song at twilight
when the lights are low.

On the flickering
shadows softly come--

-Louder, Cathcart, louder!

-Though the heart be weary--
[hits high note] are low.

Still to us at
twilight, comes love's--

-Boy, are you gonna get it!

-Ha, ha, it was one of the
finest birthdays I've ever had.

I got rid of all those
starlings about two hours ago.

Uh-huh.
Hmm?

My glasses?

Oh, I don't care.

i"m wearing my spares, anyway.

Oh, say, guess what, Martha?

I think Mr. Prince
is going to have

a new partner in his business.

[cat meows] Who?

Why, Miss Cathcart, of course.

[cats meowing]

-Huh?
Tonight?

Oh, I don't know.

I'll just watch television,
go to bed early.

Get a good night's sleep.

Yeah.

Well, tomorrow morning
will be the first time

in weeks I won't be awakened
by those blasted starlings.

[cats meowing]

-Huh?

Do you hear it, too, Martha?

Well, I don't know what it is.
[doorbell rings]

-Uh, oh, oh, just
a minute, dear.

There's, there's someone
at my front door.

Just a minute.

Hang on.

[cats meowing]

-Hi, Mr. Wilson.

-Oh, Dennis, I'm on the--

-Boy, if those starlings
ever come back,

will they be surprised.

Now that I've put liver up there
to get rid of the starlings,

your trees are full of cats!

[cats meowing]

-Happy birthday, Mr. Wilson!

-Uh, oh, Dennis!