06x10 - Tipsy Through the Tulips

[bunniefuu]

[announcer] Here's Lucy.

Starring Lucille Ball.

Costarring Gale Gordon.

Well, well?

Not well, Harry.

Your net profits are down
$384 from last month.

Who says so?

The calculator says so.

You're lying.

You solid state swindler!

You're lying!

Harry! Harry, it's a brand
new piece of equipment.

Oh, I'm so sorry,
Arthur. I'm sorry.

Our profits couldn't be down.

We did a big
business last month.

Well, that's right, Harry.

But remember, with
inflation, your costs are rising.

Therefore, your
profits are less.

I would suggest that you try
to cut down on your overhead...

- Cut down?
- Uh-huh.

Cut down on my overhead?

Listen, Arthur, you
may not have noticed,

but this isn't exactly

Huh Hefner's office
at the Playboy Club.

Say, what about your secretary?

Could you save some money
by hiring someone less efficient?

There is no one less efficient.

I will see you
next month, Harry.

Oh, and in the meantime,

try and cut down on
the lights, the heating,

the supplies, OK?

And stop taking bottled water,

that your inside is
rust with the rest of us.

Let your insides...

I'm going to miss you.

- Well, - Oh!

Just how long have
you and the water cooler

have been going steady?

Lucille, you have the
most annoying habit

of sneaking up on people?

Oh poo.

Lucille, I want to talk to you.

Oh?

You know, how the
cost of living is going up?

Boy, do I know how the
cost of living is going up?

Yeah.

Well, I wanted to talk
to you about your salary.

Oh, I want to talk to
you about my salary.

Shall we say $10 week?

A 10-dollar a week raise?

You have the right amount,

but you're going in
the wrong direction.

Harry, even you wouldn't
ask me to take a 10-dollar

a week cut in these times.

Lucille, Lucille,
do you think I like

doing this to my
own sister-in-law?

Yes.

Well...

Oh, I see you can
still afford a phone.

How come you are using
two cans and a string?

Carter's Unique Employment
Agency, Harrison Carter.

Yes.

Yes, yes, I think I have
just the person for you.

Yes, I'll send her
over right away.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Well, Lucille, our financial
problems are solved.

I have a job for you.

Well, uh, I thought I
had a job pitiful as it is.

Well, just, wait you here.

That was David Benton Miller,
the famous mystery writer.

He writes all those
detective Tuttle stories.

Yeah, David Miller.
I've read all of his books.

In fact, I just finished
m*rder at the Masked Ball.

What's the matter,
Harry? What's the matter?

I'm reading it now

and if I know you...
you'll tell me who did it?

Oh I would not.
No, I will not, no.

m*rder at the Masked Ball

is one of the greatest
mysteries I ever read.

I certainly wouldn't want to
ruin it by telling you the ending.

Oh.

Thank you. Thank you.

- Well, listen to this.
- Yeah?

Mr. Miller needs a secretary
to help him finish his latest story

to meet a publisher's deadline
and he will pay $300 a week.

- 300 a week?
- Yes, yes.

You will make a
little extra money.

I'll save money because I
won't have to pay your salary

and if he finishes
the story in time,

he will pay the office
a 500-dollar bonus.

Oh, well, I don't know, Harry.

It sounds like it
should have a catch.

Well, he does have
a slight problem.

Oh?

Yes, you see, when he
works under pressure,

he gets nervous and
when he gets nervous,

he drinks a little.

There's the catch. Count me out.

Oh and it's not...
don't be hasty, Lucille.

All you have to
do is take dictation

and keep him away
from the sauce.

Well, what does he
mean he drinks a little?

How much is a little?

Well, he said that usually
by 10 o'clock in the morning,

he has a snoot full.

That does it. I'm
not going to do it.

It's either that or take a cut.

I'll do it.

Good girl.

There's the address.

But believe me, I'm
not happy about it.

I'm a secretary
not a social worker.

Now, just hurry
over there, Lucille.

- Go, go, go, go.
- OK, OK.

- But I just want to
say one thing, Harry.
- What's that?

In the Masked Ball, she was
m*rder*d by her husband.

Stabbed.

Oh, you told me. You swore...

- Mr. Miller?
- Yes.

Well, I'm Mrs. Carter from
the employment agency.

How do you do?
Won't you come in?

Thank you.

Oh, so, this is where
you do your drinking?

Ah, thinking.

This is where I do both.

Not do, Mr. Miller,
did, remember?

Oh yes, that's right.

Where would you like me to sit?

Anywhere you like.
I pace as I dictate.

Oh, well, then, right here?

That's just fine.

Now, let's see.

Where did I leave
Detective Tuttle?

What is your new
book called, sir?

The k*ller Wore Wooden Shoes.

It all takes place in Holland.

Oh.

Sounds fascinating.

Uh-huh, all right.

Are we all set?

Yes, sir. Ready to go.

Now, let's see.

Detective Tuttle
bicycled along the canal,

admiring the yellow tulips.

He needed time to,
to think about the case.

Certainly, there was
no lack of motivation.

On the contrary,

everybody seem to have
a motive for the m*rder.

Angela's emotions were
all bottled up... bottled up.

Angela lacked the nerve
to, to commit m*rder.

It seemed to Detective Tuttle

that the wife of the m*rder*d
man was a prime suspect

not only would she
inherit all of his millions

but there was a
distinct possibility...

Possibility that her husband
had found out about her affair

with the young painter.

The painter. Yes, the painter.

Oh, could he be the guilty one?

It had been hinted that the...

it had been hinted
that the victim

was about to withdraw
his financial support from

the artist's one-man show

and wouldn't that make
him rather desperate?

Would you please read
that last portion back to me,

uh, Mrs. Carter?

Um, "Hadn't it been hinted that
the victim was going to withdraw

his financial support
from the artist's show

and wouldn't that make
him rather desperate?"

And of course, Detective Tuttle
had never been fully satisfied

with the butler's alibi

that he was driving to
Amsterdam at the time of the...

It was getting late.

So, Detective Tuttle
turned his bicycle... toward...

towards the hotel.

When he arrived
there, the desk clerk

handed him a note

that had been
left in his box, box.

It said, "If you want to
know who the m*rder*d...

if you want to know
who the dirty murd...

m*rder*r,

meet me tonight at 9 o'clock

at the old windmill
right past the zoo, zoo."

Oh, are you a bird watcher?

A what?

A bird watcher?

Oh, yes, yes.

And... and I think I just saw
hum... I think I just saw hum... hum...

I think there's a
robin out there.

When Detective
Tuttle got to his room,

he discovered it had
been ransacked... ran...

It had been ran... all of
the drawers were opened

and all of the clothes
were... were strewn about.

He checked carefully
and said to yourself,

"Something is missing."

Where was I?

"Something is missing."

I didn't take it.

Mr. Miller, are you all right?

I nev... I never
felt better in my life.

- Oh, yes, something is missing.
- Yes.

Something...
something is missing.

Yes.

What could it be?

Suddenly, he realized they
have stolen his... oracle.

All at once, the pieces of the
puzzle seemed to fall into place.

The butler must have done it.

Detective Tuttle
didn't like the idea

because it was
such an old clich...

It was such an old
clich... It was also stale.

Oh, I'll get it.

No don't I'll
get it. I'll get it.

- It's probably my publisher.
- Oh...

Hello?

Another one of those
obscene dial tones.

Oh, hello, Harry.

Hello, Lucille.

I just thought I'd stop by and
see how the book is coming.

OK, I think.

Yeah, we're just at a point

where Detective Buttle
thinks the tuttler did it.

Nice going, Lucille.

And he's right on schedule, too.


Believe me, Harry.
It isn't my fault.

Neither one of us
has left this room.

I can't imagine how
he filled his snoot.

A touch of the grape...

Hmm.

My, writing is so tiring.

So that's what's happening?

He must have it stashed
all over this room.

Well, obviously, this
isn't going to work.

Now, what are we going to do?

We have to protect
him from himself

and we have to protect me
from losing a 500-dollar bonus.

Listen, Harry, why don't
we work at my house?

The closest thing I have
to drink is some rum cake

leftover from last Christmas.

Oh? Rum cake?

Just a little slice, please.

I'm driving.

Well, sir, I don't have it here.

Oh? Then, if you'll
excuse me, I think I'll retire.

Thank you.

Join me in a nightcap?

Night... nighty night.

Sleep tight.

What else?

Helms the butler
waited in the study.

He hated the idea
of k*lling Angela,

but she knew too much
and had to be silenced.

The doorbell rang.

Helms went to answer it.

"Angela," he said.

"Helms," she answered.

You know, dictating
like this makes me thirsty.

Well, Mr. Miller.

I have some nice fruit
punch in the kitchen.

You know me,
I'll drink anything.

Hey, not anymore.

Oh, yes.

Just to make sure.

Oh...

Well, here we are.

Now, you got to
admit, it is a pretty color.

Yes, it certainly is.

Here we are.

Thank you.

How would you like that?

It is a pretty color.

You know, Mrs.
Carter, I got a problem.

I know, but I think
we're whipping it.

I didn't mean that problem.

Oh.

I can't decide how to...
how to have Angela k*lled.

Oh?

Uh... Oh, would you mind
playing the part of Angela

and I will be Helms and I'll
try different ways of k*lling you?

Well, uh... OK.

Now, now, you go
out, ring the bell.

I'll answer the door
and offer you a c*ck,

only I've put poison in yours.

Oh, well... poison?

Yes.

OK.

Fine.

Coming.

Angela.

Helms.

I've, uh, made c*ck for us.

Oh splendid.

How was I?

You die very nicely,

but I don't know if
poisoning is quite right.

Let's try sh**ting.

- sh**ting?
- Yes.

OK. Shall I go out again?

If you will, please.

- Angela.
- Helms.

I had to see you, Angela.

Oh?

What about?

You know too much.

Bang!

How was that?

Excellent.

But I don't know if sh**ting

is... is sophisticated
enough for Helms.

Let's try strangling
you with my scarf.

- Strangling?
- Yes.

Well, whatever you say.

Coming. Coming, Angela.

Angela.

Why did it take you so long
to answer the door, Helms?

Please, Mrs. Carter,
just play the scene.

You are walking
towards the couch

and I strangled
you with my scarf.

Right.

Ah-ha!

Ah, help!

- What are you doing?
- Help.

- Somebody... somebody's
trying to choke...
- No, no..

Let go.

Good heavens. I think
you better take a rest.

That's a good idea.

You know, k*lling somebody
takes quite a lot of a person.

Would you like
another glass of punch?

I don't like to see
anyone drink alone.

Here you are.

What did you
decide about Angela?

Angela who?

The girl in your story.

How are you going
to have Helms k*ll her?

Let Helms decide, I
can't do everything.

Mr. Miller, if I didn't know better,
I'd swear you've been drinking.

Tut, tut, tut.

A nice girl like you
should never swear.

You know, this
is really delicious.

It certainly is.

I think we better
get back to work.

Where... where were we?

We're right over
there drinking punch.

Oh.

Well, anyway, Helms
ushered Angela into the room.

Uh-huh.

"Come look at
the view", he said.

Angela went out on the balcony.

Suddenly, Helms
came up behind her

and grabbing her
quick... quickly,

threw her over the ra... rail

and she sank into
the canal below.

Oh, that's sad.

I know it is.

Hearing her splashing to
the canal makes me thirsty.

Would you care
to wet your whi..?

Would you care to wet...
whit want some punch?

I certainly do, fill her up.

This is very good.

Oh yes.

Helms went quickly up.

Helms went quickly
out of the study

and down the backstairs
and going in to... the terrace.

He was tiptoeing
through the tulips

when he ran directly
into Detective Tuttle.

Ha-ha-ha!

What do you find
so... so... so amusing?

Helms tiptoeing
through the tulips.

I can see him now.

[singing] Tiptoe
through the window

By the window,
that is where I'll be

I'll tiptoe through the tulips

With me

What's going on here?

We're just... we're
tiptoeing through the tulips.

What does it look like?

You are both intoxicated!

Impossible. We haven't
had a dingle strop.

Well, I am not going to
lose that 500-dollar bonus

if I have to finish
the story myself.

Knee deep in flowers we'll stray

- We'll keep...
- Detective Tuttle...

The showers away

And if I kiss you in the garden,

in the moonlight

Will you pardon me?

We'll tiptoe
through the tulips...