08x06 - Meet Michael Vanderkellen

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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08x06 - Meet Michael Vanderkellen

Post by bunniefuu »

- All right, one free guess as
to how we spent our morning.

- Serving meals at the Mission?

- No, we've been shopping.

- We were at the mall

bagging more goodies
for our bambino-to-be.

Can baby Harris
come out to play?

- Oh, my God, two
more months of this.

- Michael, get up.

I feel a mood swing coming on.

- Stephanie, your
mother just called.

She's helicoptering
up to see you today.

- Ooooh.

- Allow me to lend a limb.

- Oh, thank you.

I guess you want me to
haul this up to your room?

- Ixnay, Jorgé.

The papoose paraphernalia
goes next door in room seven.

- I thought we decided seven

would be the
baby's viewing room.

- Beg to differ, Mama Samba.

When we knock down the
wall between five and six,

seven becomes six, see,

and eight turns
into a little mini...

- Michael, we're not
knocking down any walls.

- Wouldn't dream of it.

George is.

Sound like fun, old mule?

- Well, I'd like to have
lunch first, young ass.

- Listen, we don't
mind your staying here

when the baby
comes, but in one room.

With the original four walls.

- Joanna, you can't expect us to
live in the same room as a baby.

- What if it cries or
something and it wakes me up?

In the morning,
I'll be all cranky

and I'll look like hell.

- Oh, if it'll keep you from
waking up puffy-faced...

gut the damn place.

- You mean it?
- No!

- Methinks we three
peas need a new pod.

- Of course. Let's buy a house!

- Let's!

- Methinks these three
peas are out of their shells.

- Michael, you
can't afford a house,

you're a bag boy.

You barely make minimum wage.

- Plus tips.

Mrs. Levinson's
always good for a buck.

More if I'm wearing
my stonewashed 501s.

- But... but, surely, we stray.

- Have you considered renting?

Joanna, a Vanderkellen
doesn't rent.

- Okay, but if you
change your mind,

I'm handling a rental
that just came on.

Do you know the Enwright
estate up on Johnnycake Heights?

- Do we know it?

Oh, sweetmeat, that
mansion is mucho magnifico!

- And it would be fitting for
us to look down on the town.

- Almost... almost poetic.

- It's the guest
house that's for rent.

And that's only until
the main house sells.

- Oh darn.

There's that
pesky reality again.

- Don't crumble, muffin.

Let's take a pregnant pause
and peruse the positives.

We'd have an impressive
mailing address

creating the illusion of wealth.

Nothing to scoff at there.

- And we could still
look down on the town.

- And just because
the house is small,

that doesn't mean
your egos have to be.

- He's right! When
can we move in?

- Well, we can
go look at it now.

- Wunderbar!
- Okay.

Ah.

Ah, I love it!

We'll take it.

- Stephanie, this
is the main house.

The guest house is out there.

- Behind that old garage?

- On top of that old garage.

- Michael!

- Talk... Talk about your
convenient parking, though.

- Don't fret, my worried pet.
We haven't seen the inside yet.

Key please?

- I think it's in the kitchen,
but it's not really a key.

It's more like a
garage door opener.

- Right, like that won't look
clunky on my Tiffany keychain.

Oh, but this place.

Michael, can you
imagine how glorious

this room would look
filled with pictures of us?

- And we'd finally
have room for that mural

I've always wanted
to paint of you.

- You mean "The Four
Seasons of Stephanie?

- Oh, but we can't
afford this place.

Why are we torturing ourselves?

- And others.

- But I love you, you
big beautiful house.

Stephanie?

- It loves me too!

- That's Joanna.

I'm still trying to find
the garage door opener.

It's so big, you'd think
it'd be easy to spot.

- Oh. Michael, this is
the longest hallway I've...

Look! There's no end to it.

- There's got to be.
Time me in a hall dash.

- Ready, set, go!

Time!

- 12 seconds.

I bet I can b*at it!

- I bet you can't!

- Ready, set, go!

- Do you see him yet?

- Oh, wait, I think that's him.
Come on baby, run to Mama!

10 seconds! Your
new personal best!

- Well, I could've
done it in nine.

But I stopped for a second to
eyeball the indoor/outdoor pool.

- Oh, Michael.

And your whole life long
you've had that recurring dream

about owning a pool like that.

- I-Is that the same dream where
you're tied to the diving board

by Fiona, the... the
rubber-suited mistress?

My... My mistake,
what am I thinking?

Th-Th-That's my dream.

- Ew.

- Okay, I found the opener.

- Joanna, I want this house.

I don't care what
it costs, I want it!

- It's a million-two.

- Think they'll come down?

- Michael, you can't
even afford the "two" part.

- Oh, Michael, d*ck's right.

We don't have enough
money to buy this place.

I'll just have to ask
Mummy to buy it for us.

- Yes!

- Yes!

- "Dear Diary, today I
decided to leave Vermont."

- Mummy's coming,
Mummy's coming!

- Mummy's coming,
Mummy's coming!

- Now, Michael, remember,
let me do all the talking.

I know how to pull
this woman's strings

and make her dance
like a drunken puppet.

- Stephie!

- Mummy!

- Joanna.

- Mrs. Vanderkellen!

- d*ck.

Hello, Michael.

- Oh, Mummy, Mummy, Mummy!

Pleasure as always, Mrs. V.

- Well, pregnancy
certainly becomes you.

- I think we all knew it would.

- I can't get over how
much you're looking like

Kim Basinger these days.

Am I right, d*ck?
- Uncanny.

- Mm, nobody wears
Elizabeth Taylor's Passion

like you, Lady Vanderkellen.

- My, your husband seems to
be sucking up more than usual.

Okay, what do you two want?

- Want?

We're young and beautiful
with a baby on the way.

What more could
we possibly want?

- She spotted her prey.

- I suppose we could use
a little housewarming gift.

Let's see.

We have a coffee
grinder and a juicer.

Michael, do we have a house?

- A house? Not that I recall.

- Circling their victim.

- I see through
your little charade.

You want me to fork over a down
payment on some cute cottage.

- And now the k*ll.

- Bottom line, Mom, we want
you to buy us a big big mansion.

- How much?

- Only a million-two and
there's room for a mural of me.

- It's a very soft million-two.

The owners are flexible,
motivated and willing to carry.

- What does all that mean?

- I'm not sure, but I bet
someone in my office knows.

- Normally, if
it's over a million,

I'm supposed to
consult with my husband.

- See, honey, I'm
not the only one

who subscribes to that policy.

- But Arthur is buying an
election in Central America now.

Oh, what the heck,
I'll pop for the house.

- Yes!
- Yes!

- Damn, you're a grand dame.

- There is, however,
one provision.

Stephanie, as you
may have noticed,

you have no siblings.

- That's why at Christmas
I get all the presents.

- That's what
Christmas is all about.

- Alas, there's no one to
carry on the family name.

So, Michael, Mr. Vanderkellen
and I have discussed

making you an offer.

- Offer?

- The timing couldn't
be more fortuitous.

In exchange for
this big, big mansion,

we'd simply like you to change
your last name to Vanderkellen.

- What?

You want me to sell
my name, my legacy,

my very being for some house?

- That is correct.

- Okey-doke.

- What is this huge room
off the master bedroom?

- Well, right now,
it's a walk-in closet.

But you could turn it into a
darling nursery for the baby.

- Michael, did you hear that?

A walk-in closet.

- Holy Imelda, we're blessed.

- M-Michael, hasn't
it occurred to you,

y-you sold your soul for
a... a lot of closet space.

- So?

- Well, don't you get it? When
you give away your name,

y-you're giving away your
identity, y-your integrity.

- d*ck, when we got married,
I gave away my name.

Are you saying I gave away
my identity and integrity?

- Of course not.

- Why is that?

- You're a woman.

- Meaning?

- Meaning you're not a man.

- So?

- So, it-it's different.

- What do you
mean it's different?

- It's not the same.

- d*ck, I know what
different means.

- Good. Glad we cleared that up.

- d*ck?

You're sitting here.

- Yeah.

- For years, you've
been sitting at that table,

and now you're
sitting at this table.

I don't like it.

- I-I didn't mean to
rock your world, George.

- Hey, quick quiz, G-man.

Say you were
offered a heap o'house

to change your last name.

Go or no go?

- Heck, a man's name is his
most important possession.

Once it's gone, he's no better
than some lost forgotten animal

who roams the streets
eating rotten garbage

and sleeping on dung heaps.

But that's just me.

- Hi, I'm Larry,
this is my bro...

Talk about your
unsettling spectacles.

- I know, I know.

I normally sit over there
and now I'm sitting here.

I just... felt capricious, okay?

- I was alluding to the
chunk of blueberry stuck

to your front tooth.

No, Darryl, you let d*ck
lick off that blueberry hisself.

See, Darryl, you were wrong.

Just because Michael's taken
on Miss Stephanie's name,

doesn't mean he's
turned into a femme fatale.

Although with his legs
crossed in that sultry manner,

he does resemble a
young Shirley Booth.

- Question.

Would you quirky
crossbred country kinsmen

consider mangling your monikers
for a mansion on the mount?

- First off, kudos
on your spectacular,

if not excessive,
alliterative skills.

Your query is moot,
however, since years ago,

Darryl altered his given
name to avoid confusion

both at home and
at obedience school.

- What... What did
Darryl's name use to be?

- Larry.

- So you guys do approve of
me taking the Vanderkellen name?

- What? We thought
you were taking

Miss Stephanie's
lilting first name.

Selling your last name

would mean losing
your identity and integrity.

We'd sooner brush our teeth
than change our last name.

Come on, Darryl.

I said come on, Darryl.

- Stephanie, did I do right?

I mean, even Larry
and the guys think

I shouldn't change my last name.

- Michael, they also
think they're dogs.

- Still.

- Come on, let's go
pick up tile samples

before the store
closes, Mr. Vanderkellen.

Ooh, I like that.

- Michael, don't
worry about losing

your identity and integrity.

That only happens to women.

- You don't have much
respect for me anymore, do you?

- No.

- I see. Well, hear this.

No matter what name I go by,

I'm still the man
in this family.

Michael, I need
you to run upstairs

and get my purse!

- The Louis Vuitton clutch
or the Coach classic?

- The Coach!
- Righty-oh!

We'll continue this
discussion later.

- Michael?

Michael!

Well, you just flew
out of the tile store.

Okay, so you didn't like
the peach-colored grout

I picked out.

- It's not the grout,
Steph, it's me.

I just had to see if this
was all worth bidding adieu

to my identity and integrity.

- Oh, Michael, of course it
is. That's a solid brass wet bar.

- I know, I know!

But last year, when
I lost you and my job

and a sizable
section of my sanity...

all I had left was my name.

And now, I'm losing that.

- But now you have me.

And a new job.

And nearly all of your sanity.

You don't need
your name anymore.

Michael, did you swim in?

Oh, you know those linen
pants are dry-clean only.

- Seemed uncouth backstroking
naked before escrow closes.

If it ever closes.

- Come on, you want to try

for a new record
in the hallway dash?

- The time wouldn't be official.

I'm carrying about
20 pounds of water.

- Tell me about it.

Okay.

I'm about to do
something very unselfish.

- You?

- I guess this giving
up your name thing

is some kind of
big deal to you so...

I'm going to give you permission

to make up your
own mind about it.

- You are? You
mean, it's up to me?

You mean, I can
make this decision all...

- Oh, stop rubbing
my nose in it.

- Steph, am I the
man of this family?

- Well, Michael, you are a
man. And we are a family.

So, I guess in the
technical sense.

- So, no matter what I decide,

your feelings for
me won't change?

- No, Michael,
I'll still love you.

- Even if I have integrity?

- Okay, okay, okay.

- Thanks. I'll meet you outside.

- Where are you going?

- Well, just in case I
never see this place again.

- What a lovable lunatic.

- Michael, you're dripping wet.

- Dear boy, a Vanderkellen man

is only permitted to wear
wet trousers while at sea.

- I can wear wet
pants anywhere I want.

I'm not giving up
the Harris name.

- No?

- No!

- No?

- Yes!

- My means may be meager
but I do own something of value.

My self-respect and my dignity.

Right, d*ck?

- Well, the... the words
are there, Michael.

- I see.

Darling, did you give
Michael permission

to make up his own mind?

- Yeah.

- Tut-tut-tut. Good night, all.

- Didn't my little morality
play sway you even a smidge?

- Yes, it was very touching.

- So, we still get the house?

- Certainly not.

- But you said it was touching!

- I thought The Sound
of Music was touching.

But we didn't buy
Christopher Plummer a house.

Come to think of
it, I believe we did.

He was most grateful.

- Mommy, you can't do this.

Couldn't we negotiate
or something?

- Negotiate, right,
run with it, Steph.

- I'm listening.

- Well, try this out.

Michael VanHarris.

- I could live with that.

- I couldn't.

- How about Michael VandyHarris?

- I think not.

- Michael VanderHarris.

- Sorry!

- Michael VanderkelHarris.

- Michael Vanderkellis!

- Mm.

- Michael Vanderkellen!

- Now, that I love!

- Yes!
- Yes!

- Yes!

- Excuse me, but...

D-Doesn't that name sound
vaguely familiar to any of you?

- Quiet, d*ck, there's
a house in it for you.

- Sorry, Mrs. V., no dice.

- You know, this
situation reminds me

of a certain young
suitor from my past.

Who also had character and
the courage of his convictions.

- Daddy does have
that way about him.

- Oh, not your daddy.

The boy I dumped for your daddy.

Your father had
very little integrity,

but man, was he loaded.

- This other chap, did he go
on to become a big tycoon?

A captain of industry?

- Actually, he d*ed
a penniless drunk.

And the jury is still
out on you, young man.

And you'll want to
lose that sweater.

Certain men can't
carry off pearls.

- I-I know the two of you
feel miserable right now.

But I-I think you'll
find that life, you know,

as... as wondrous
as it can be...

- Oh, shut up, d*ck.

- You know, that... That
woman has been moody

ever since she gave
up her last name.

- Michael, we're
among the homeless.

- You could still rent
the... the guest house.

- Oh.
- Good going, d*ck.

Do you stay up nights thinking
of these sick ways to hurt us?

- Only... Only when
Carson is in rerun.

- If you need a place to stay,

the swallows
have left their nest.

- Oh, Michael, please
don't make me live in a nest.

I'm having a baby,
for God's sake.

- Uh no, I mean,
they were nesting

in the carriage house out
back, and now it's empty.

- Really? You know, Steph,

I always thought
that rustic retreat

had fix-me-up potench.

- And it is on that little hill.

We could still look down
on d*ck and Joanna.

- Oh, you don't
need a hill for that.

- He's right.
Okay, we'll take it!

You think there's
enough closet space?

- Well, if George knocked
a hole in the back wall

and built a long
hallway to the barn.

- You're right.

Then that whole humongous
barn could be our closet!

Well, your closet.

- d*ck, help me.

- VanderkelHarris does
have a certain sound appeal.

- Meow.
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