01x30 - Dennis by Proxy

[bunniefuu]

-You sit there until your
father comes home, young man.

Sitting in a corner
isn't nearly enough

punishment for what you did.

And don't think you
can make me feel badly

by giving me the silent
treatment either.

I'm sick and tired of
having to apologize

to the neighbors for a little
boy who should know better

and who constantly-- Dennis.

Dennis?

Who are you?

-I'm Herby.

Dennis gave me a penny
to take his place.

[theme music]

-Hey, Tommy.

There's good old Mr.
Dorfman, mixing up his mail.

-Yeah.

He's all the time sitting
there and mixing it up.

-Sorting the mail, not
mixing up the mail.

-But Mr. Wilson
says you mix it up.

-One letter three years ago
and he's still complaining.

-Hey Mr. Dorfman, look at
these swell pounders we found.

-Pounders, you say?

-Sure.

You pound them on a
thing, then you pound them

on a piece of paper, and
then you read what it says.

-Oh.

Boys, the proper name for one of
these things is a rubber stamp.

We use a lot of them
down at the post office.

-I know it.

And you know what?

With these pounders,
we're gonna be mail men.

-Well, I think you'd do
better to play something else.

There's no fun being a mailman.

-Sure there is, Mr. Dorfman.

We want to get cakes, and pies,
and presents at Christmas,

just like you do.

-Yeah.

And we wanna sit
on a private bench,

just like you're
doing right now.

I know, Tommy.

We'll build us a
private bench to sit on.

-Every mail man's
gotta have a bench.

-I don't know, boys.

The city's gonna tear
down this old bench

to make way for a parking lot.

-You mean they're
gonna tear down

your good old
bench, Mr. Dorfman?

-That's right.

-But you'll have no place
to sit and mix your mail!

-You use your bench a whole lot.

You're gonna miss it.

-Yeah.

We see you sitting on your
bench times a day.

-Oh, I don't think I
sit on it that often.

-I'll tell you
what, Mr. Dorfman.

You can use the bench that
me and Tommy are gonna build.

-Sure you can.

-And if you need any
help mixing up your mail,

me and Tommy'll help you mix it.

-Well thanks, Dennis.

-Come on, Tommy.

Let's get started.

-Dennis, where you
get these stamps?

-Oh, behind Mr. Quigley's store.

-Mr. Quigley sure throws
away some swell trash.

-Dennis, how many
times have I told you?

I won't have you fishing in
other people's trash cans.

-Oh, we didn't
fish, Mrs. Mitchell.

-A dog knocked
over the trash can

and these pounders fell
right spang on the sidewalk.

-Well, all right, you
can keep them this time,

but no more rummaging
in trash cans.

-OK, mom.

Me and Tommy are
gonna play mail man

and we're gonna build
a resting bench.

So, can we borrow dad's tools?

-And we're gonna let
Mr. Dorfman sit on it.

MARGARET (OFFSCREEN): Dennis!

-We'll put the tools right back.
MARGARET (OFFSCREEN): Dennis!

-Well, aren't you
going to answer her?

-Heck no, mom.

That's just dumb old Margaret.

-She hollers for a while,
then she goes away.

-Dennis, you march
right to that door

and let that poor
little girl in.

-Jeepers, mom, she's
not a poor little girl.

She's Margaret.
-March.

-Hello, Mrs. Mitchell.

I knew you'd make him let me in.

-Well, uh, I'm sure that
Dennis and Tommy just

didn't hear you call the
first time, Margaret.

-Oh yes they did, Mrs. Mitchell.

-Where'd you get those
old rubber stamps, Dennis?

-None of your beeswax, Margaret.

-We just got them somewhere.

-Well, they're no good unless
you have an inkpad to make them

work.
-Yeah?

Well me and Tommy are
gonna play mail man,

and we're going to build
a bench for Mr. Dorfman,

and-- and you can't sit on it.

-You got ink pads?

-Well, no.

Have you?
-Sure.

I've got two of 'em.

-Can we borrow one?

-No.

-Well, how about if we let you
play mailman once in awhile?

Then could we borrow one?

-I tell you what.

I'll be the lady that's
married to Dennis,

and he works at the
post office all day.

And he gets to stamp
lots of packages

because he has
plenty of ink pads.

And Francine will
be my newest baby,

and Dennis will have
to feed her when

he comes home from
the post office.

-Hi, Mr. Wilson.

-Like a magnet.

-Huh?

-I was just saying
to myself that it's

some sort of minor miracle
that every time, not sometimes,

mind you, but every time I
start a new project over here,

you show up.

-I noticed that too, Mr. Wilson.

I guess we're just lucky.
-Lucky.

Yeah.

Same kind of luck
I have at Cribbage.

All right, now, Dennis, to
forestall a few thousand

questions, this
is a cement form.

A form for cement, which
I will pour some day when

you go to visit
your grandfather.

-How come you're gonna
wait so long, Mr. Wilson?

-Because it dries without
footprints that way.

-Oh.

-All right, now,
Dennis, if you don't

have some reasons
for coming over here,

will you please go away?

-Oh, I have a
reason, Mr. Wilson.

Me and Tommy are
gonna p mailman,

and we're gonna build a
resting bench for Mr. Dorfman.

So could you give us--

-Oh, yes.

That's right.

He's going to lose that
old bench over in the park,

isn't he?

-Yeah, and he
needs it to sit on.

Could you give us some wood?

-Well, I'm but that I've
used up all my wood.

And I'm fresh out of paint,
I'm fresh out of nails,

I'm fresh out of shingles.

That just about takes care
of everything, doesn't it?

-Everything but ink pads.

You got any ink
pads, Mr. Wilson?

-Now, what on earth do
you want ink pads for?

-For these.

You can't run a post office
without these, Mr. Wilson.

-I see.

Well, I'm sorry, but I'm
fresh out of ink pads, too.

Why don't you get a wet
sponge, or something?

Or wet down the stamps.

I'd imagine ink that's still on
them show through for awhile.

-Boy, yeah!

Boy, it works!

-Fine.

One good favor deserves another.

Good bye, Dennis.

-I was gonna tell you,
but you sat down too fast.

-Well, you could have
solved the whole thing

by not putting it there
in the first place.

All right, good bye again.

-Boy, wait 'til I tell Tommy.
-Yeah?

Tell Tommy what?

-His stamp works, too!

-Great Scott!

-Hi, lady.

Hi, Mr. Thompson.

-Hello, Dennis.

Mrs. Toland, this is Dennis.

Dennis, Mrs. Toland just
bought this house, next to Mr.

Wilson's.
-You have?

-Yes.

-Have you got any stuff
to build things out

of that you could give me?

-Well, I think I did see
some things back there.

What are you building, Dennis?

-A resting bench
for Mr. Dorfman.

-He's the postman, Mrs. Toland.

They're taking down the old
postman's bench in the park,

and a lot of people are
quite upset about it.

It's quite a relic.

-And you're going to
build him a new one?

Is that it?

-Yes, ma'am.

-That's charming.

-Dennis, come on home!

I want you to go to
the store for me.

-OK, Mom!

-I have to go to the
store now, Mrs. Toland.

But when I get back, can
I have the building stuff?

-Why, yes, if you can
find anything out there.

-OK, Mrs. Toland.

Hey, Mrs. Toland,
would you like me

to get anything at
the store for you?

-No, Dennis.

I can't think of anything.

-Like one of those candy bars
that breaks into two pieces,

in case you want to
divide it with any friends

you happen to have?

-No, Dennis.

No, I guess not.

-OK.

Bye, Mr. Thompson.

Bye, Mrs. Toland.

-Bye, Dennis.

-As I was saying, Mrs.
Toland, your property line

extends about a foot and a
half beyond Mr. Wilson's fence.

Now, none of the other
previous property owners

wanted to do anything about it.

-Well, neither would I. It
would mean taking down his fence

and destroying his
lovely flower bed.

I wouldn't dream of it.

-I'll be right with
you, Mr. Sanderson.

Now, Mrs. Hannah, let's see.

Two dozen eggs.

Milk.

Two dozen-- oh, I
already rang those up.

Oranges.

[bell ringing]
-No.

Not today.
Dennis!

Stop that!

-I was just showing Stewart how
your bell works, Mr. Quigley.

My mom wants some groceries,
and I need some building stuff.

-Well, you'll have to
wait your turn, Dennis.

I'm very busy today.

-Oh.

'Scuse me, Mr. Quigley.

Is there anything we can do
to help while we're waiting?

-No, thank you.

-We can shoo the
flies out for you.

-No, thank you.

-Boy, you sure got a
bunch of 'em in here.

-No, thank you!

-Good old Mr. Quigley likes
to shoo his own flies out.

-Now, what was
it, Mr. Sanderson?

-Oh, a carton of ginger ale.

-Oh, all right.

-Watch Mr. Sanderson, Stewart.

-Anything else?

-Maybe he'll do one in a minute.

-Are you talking
about me, Dennis?

-Yes sir, Mr. Sanderson.

-Maybe I'll do what in a minute?

-Your trick.

-I know something I'd
like you to do for me,

and that's keep your
little friend here out

from under my feet, Dennis.

-Oh, I'll need some,
uh, pint tobacco.

-I guess he's not going to
do the trick for us, Stewart.

-What trick, Dennis?

-My dad says good
old Mr. Sanderson

can drink just like a fish.

-Anything else, Mr. Sanderson?

-No.

No, I'll come back when
you've got less help.

-Dennis, some day I'm going to--

[shouting]

-What's that?

-Sounds like good
old Mr. Sanderson

fell over Stewart's wagon.

Yep.

That's what he did, all right.

-Yeah.

-Mr. Quigley was so furious,
he could hardly talk.

He said that Dennis ought to
be locked in a closet somewhere

where only he and the termites
could get at each other.

And then he said he felt
sorry for the termites.

-Dennis is just going
to have to be punished.

-You won't spank him too hard?

-Alice, either you punish
a boy, or you don't.

I'm not enjoying this
anymore than you are.

Dennis?

DENNIS (OFFSCREEN): OK, Dad!

You call me, Dad?

-Yes, son.

Come on with me.

-Where are we going?

-Out in the back?

-Honey, you won't--
I mean, not too--

-I won't.
-Dennis.

After your father
takes you out back,

I'll have a nice
dinner ready for you

to make you feel better.

-OK.

But I won't be able to
eat much on account of hit

hurts when I swallow.

-Well, just the same.

It hurts when you swallow?

-Dennis, let me see your throat.

-Will that be all, Mr. Mitchell?

-I think so.

Oh, I'll need some
throat lozenges.

-Oh.

Is somebody sick at your place?

-Yes.

Nothing serious.

We have to keep him in
the house for a few days.

-Oh, who's this, Mitchell?

-Dennis.

Oh, I'm sorry about the
trouble he caused you two.

As soon as he's well,
he'll be punished.

-Oh, that's perfectly all right.

I'm just glad it
was nothing serious.

-Well, I should say so.

How long do you say
it'll be before you

let him lo-- uh, before he's
allowed out of the house?

-Well, the doctor
says a week, but I

have a hunch he'll be his old
self in three or four days.

-Oh, no sense rushing things.

-Oh, no, I should say not.

You know, sometimes
a good three or four

weeks' rest is what
a growing boy needs.

-The worst thing about
being sick to him

is that he can't build a bench.

It seems he promised Mr.
Dorfman to build a resting bench

to replace the one they're
taking down in the park.

Kids.
-Yes.

-Yes.
Good bye.

-See you later, Mitchell.

-He was in here about that.

Thought one of my shelves would
be just right for his bench.

-Oh, dear.

He was pestering
me about that, too.

You know, when I was
put on this committee

to put in the
parking lot, I never

thought that there'd be this
much trouble about a postman's

bench.

-Well, a couple of
days, and Dennis

will forget all about it.

Will that, uh, be
all, Mr. Wilson?

Mr. Wilson?

-Hm?

Oh, oh, excuse me, Mr. Quigley.

Yes.
Yes, that'll be all.

-Well, looks like I'm finally
going to get a few days' rest.

-Oh?

Going away on a vacation?

-No.

-But you said--

-Oh.

Yes, I, I see what you mean.

-Yes, for a few days
it's going to be

a lovely, quiet
little neighborhood.

Just like it was
a few years ago,

before Dennis learned to walk.

-Oh, that was lovely, wasn't it?

-That's too high, Tommy.

Think where the window goes.

-Just because we've got
to use your ink pads

doesn't mean you get to be boss
of the whole world, Margaret.

-All right.

Ask Dennis.

-OK, I will.

Do we have to put a
window in there, Dennis?

-Heck no, Tommy.

We already got one window.

-That's what I said.

-It is not!

-It is, too!

-It is not!

-It is, too!

-What do you want
me to do, Dennis?

-You'd better look
around, see if you

can find some big hunks of
wood for the roof, Stewart.

-OK.

-Somebody better
go ask Mr. Quigley

if he's got some of
that plastic stuff we

can use for the window.

-I haven't got any money.

And Mr. Quigley never
gives away stuff to kids.

-I'll get it.

-You got any money?

-You don't need money.

All you say is charge it.

-Wonderful job.

Beautiful day.

-Oh, here's a fine
item, Mrs. Turner.

Some of my customers
have used that for years.

-Excuse me for being
rude, Mr. Quigley,

but where do you keep that
plastic stuff that you

can see through?

-Oh, you'll find
some rolls of it

right over there next
to the wall, Margaret.

-Thank you.

-Well mannered child.

Now, here's a new one.

It's only been on the
market about six months,

but a good many of
my customers seem--

-Excuse me for being
rude again, Mr. Quigley.

Charge it, please.

-Oh, wait a minute, Marget.

You can't do that.

-Do what?

-Why, tear a piece off
the roll like that.

-Sure you can, Mr. Quigley.

They have a sort of a knife
thing on the edge of the box.

-You'll find either
one very satisfactory,

Mrs. Ru-- uh, Mrs. Turner.

-A board!

-No!

[phone ringing]

-Hello?

-Oh, hello, Mr. Wilson.

No, Dennis is in the house.

Well, of course I'm sure.

Footprints in what?

-Hey Denis, it don't fit!

-Well, come here a
minute, all you guys!

-You guys better get some
more long pieces of wood.

-I know where I can get
some, but somebody's

got to come with me
to help carry it.

-Not me.

-Me, neither.

-You'd better find a wagon or
a wheelbarrow, or something

to carry the wood in, Margaret.

-All right, Dennis.

-Tommy, you'd better
find something

to put on the roof, like
tar paper, or something.

-How about cardboard?

-Yeah!

-Mr. Quigley's got a whole
bunch of cardboard boxes

in his back room of the store.

-OK.

-Stewart, you'd better go finish
sawing that piece of wood.

OK?

-OK, Dennis.

-I, uh, see you've taken
advantage of our sale

on peaches, Mrs. Hannah.

They'll make a mighty fine
lunch one of these rainy days.

I always advise people to--

-Can I butt in now,
Mr. Quigley, or do you

want me to wait
and butt in later?

-Well, you've already
butted in, Tommy.

Now, what is it you want?

-I was wondering if I could have
some of those empty cardboard

boxes you got out
in the back room?

-All right.

Take some.

-I think I'm gonna
need a whole bunch.

-Well, go ahead.

Take all you can carry.

I've got more back there
than I can use now.

-OK.

-Tommy!

-Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

-Oh.
Morning.

-Good morning, Quigley.

Well, first of all, I'll need
a large bottle of Aspirin.

-Oh, yes.

Did you, uh, get your
cement work done?

-Twice.

And I had to do
it all over again.

Every kid within a mile
radius has been through my yard

by way of my cement.

-Then they came in here
and fell in my apples.

You know, things are
worse now than they

were when Dennis was around.

-Dennis!

What on Earth are you doing?

-Toasting marshmallows
for the kids out front.

-That isn't the way
you toast marshmallows.

-But mom, I promised.

-Well, never mind that.

And Dennis, I just talked to
Dr. Welsh on the telephone.

-Did he say I could go outside?

Did he say I'm all well?

-Yes, he said you
could go outside.

-Boy, that's swell.

-Be sure to put on your jacket.

-OK, mom!

Hey Mr. Wilson!

Mr. Wilson!

-Why, Dennis.

What are you doing
outside the house?

-I'm all well now.

You wanna see the swell bench
we made for Mr. Dorfman?

-Well.

Dennis, I thought you'd
given up on this idea.

-Heck no, Mr. Wilson.

-Well, how did you-- I
mean, with you in the house,

how did you build it down there?

-Tommy, and Margaret, and
Stewart built it, Mr. Wilson.

I was just the boss.

-Oh.

Hey.

This piece of wood looks like
it's from my cement form.

And that board looks
like the missing

piece from my green house.

-Go ahead.

Sit on it, Mr. Wilson.

-Yeah, Mr. Wilson.

We want somebody fat to sit on
it before Mr. Dorfman comes.

-Please, Mr. Wilson?

-Well, all right.

I am kind of tired.

And it seems to be made
with my lumber anyway.

Ah.

This is the last straw.

I want you children to
take everything back

where you got it.

And I'm going to take my
boards back where they belong.

-Why, Mr. Wilson,
I'm ashamed of you.

First you get the city to
destroy Mr. Dorfman's bench

in the park, and then you
take the children's lumber

when they're trying to
build him a new one.

-Mrs. Toland, you're mistaken.

I-- well, I didn't do anything.

I mean, well, they asked me to
sit down in it, and it-- It--

-And then why, may I ask,
are you taking the lumber?

-Well, because it's
my lumber, that's wh--

-Why, Mr. Wilson, if this
is the sort of neighbor

you're going to
turn out to be, I'm

afraid I'm going to have to
reconsider my decision not

to insist on correcting
my property line.

-But I'd have to tear down my
fence, destroy my flower bed.

-Yes, Mr. Wilson.

I'm afraid you'd
have to do just that.

-Oh.

Oh, now wait a
minute, Mrs. Toland.

Just-- Mrs. Toland, please.

Wait just a minute.
Mrs. Toland!

-So, being the generous
man that he is,

Mr. Wilson, in return for a
deed to the two feet of property

which legally belonged
to me, has graciously

consented to donate to the city
this corner of his yard, which

will hereafter be used by
the postman on this route.

-And here he comes.

Mr. Dorfman!

-Well I'll be.

The old postman's rest.
Dennis.

I'll bet you're behind all this.

Excuse me.

-Three cheers for Mr. Dorfman!

TOGETHER: Hip hip hooray!

Hip hip hooray!

Hip hip hooray!

-And three cheers for
good old Mr. Wilson.

TOGETHER: Hip hip hooray!

-Hip hip hooray.

TOGETHER: Hip hip hooray!

Hip hip hooray!