09x08 - Death Smiles on a Dry Cleaner: Part 1

[bunniefuu]

To a deluxe apartment
in the sky

We finally got
a piece of the pie

Fish don't fry
in the kitchen

Beans don't burn
on the grill

Took a whole lot
of tryin'

Now we're up
in the big leagues

As long as we live,
it's you and me, baby

There ain't nothin' wrong
with that

To a deluxe apartment
in the sky

We finally got
a piece of the pie

Oh, Tom, that cake looks
beautiful.

The bakery did a terrific job.

Oh, that's why
I went to Dominics.

Old man Dominic likes to do
a few extra things for me,

because, well, over the
years, I've given him
my fair share of business.

Fair share?

Why, Tom, your patronage
alone has put Dominic Jr.
through college.

Well, anyway,
the cake looks perfect.

Happy Birthday...
Gorge?

Aw, Tom...

Well, all right,
so I ate an "E."

What's the big deal?

Well, the name George
is loaded with "E's."

Look, there's one
there at the end.

Well, at least all
he ate was an "E"

and not one of those
six great looking roses.

Six? I ordered roses.

I just can't wait to see
the look on George's face
when we yell "Surprise."

Oh! And he should be
even more surprised
when he opens his gifts.

Oh, I sure hope so.

You know, it's not easy
shopping for George.

What do you get for the man
who already has everything?

Another "E."

Well, I bought him
a nice present.

-Oh, what did you get him?
-A can of soup.

Well, Helen and I
bought him a set
of who-dunit books.

We didn't have to think
twice about what to buy him,

since he became
such a mystery buff.

I got a mystery for him.
He should solve the case
of his missing hair.

Well, Louise, nothing is going
to come close to your gift.

You really outdid
yourself this year.

Oh, thank you, Helen.
I think so, too.

Say, why don't we all
go in the living room.

George should be
home any second.

LOUISE: Ah, which mystery
book did you get
for George, Tom?

TOM: Well, let's see.
We bought him
m*rder In The Catacombs.

LOUISE: Oh, that's too bad.
George has already
read that one.

TOM: Oh, really.
Then we got him
Appointment With Death.

LOUISE: Oh, that's too bad.
He's read that, too.
TOM: He has?

Well, how about that
Edgar Thornton classic
The Captain Wore Nylons?

LOUISE: I'm afraid that
he's read that one also.

HELEN: I wonder
where George is?

In here waiting for
a decent present.

Surprise.

George, you ruined our party!
And how did you get in here?

Probably snuck in
through the keyhole.

-Hey, Florence,
thanks for the soup.
-Where is It?

I put it in the same place
you put the mustache wax
I gave you for your birthday.

Come on, Weez.
Where's my great present?
Gimme. Gimme. Gimme!

Now, wait a minute,
I thought the plan was
to have our cake first.

Weezy, just put the cake
in a trough for him and
give me my present.

Go ahead, Louise.
Give it to him.

And I'm not talking
about his present.

Happy Birthday,
George. Here.
An envelope?

What is it? What could I
possibly want that could
fit in an envelope?

A new suit?

A cruise, George,
but not just any cruise.

We are booked on
the inaugural launching
of the Caribbean mystery ship.

It's brand new.
You'll love it.

You go out for
three days on a yacht,

and the captain and the crew
provide a made-up mystery,

then you and the other
passengers try to solve it.

Weez, this is great.

Not only that, but the other
passengers are going to be

some of the most famous
mystery writers in the world.
Your favorites.

And the fun will be
to see who can solve
the crime first.

Oh! Me and the greatest
crime-solving minds
in the world!

Yeah, it's kinda like
Daffy Duck goes to Congress.

Weez, this is great!
Wait. Are the Willis'
going with us?

-No.
-This is fantastic.

Yes, it'll just be you,
me, and Florence.

Florence? I don't know,
some of those sailors

ain't seen a woman
for years, you know.

Oh, but she'll be safe.

Ah, just one thing, George.

In order to get you
booked on this cruise,

I had to tell everybody
you were a mystery writer.

Do you think you'll
be able to pull it off?

Me, lie?

Hold it a minute, Weez.
I'll check. Excuse me.

Tom, Helen, I just
like to say thank you
for your present.

And you also are
very dear, dear friends.

Well, our pleasure, George.

Lying is no problem.

Steward, everything in order?

Oh, yes, sir. We've seen
to every detail.

I know how much you
want our maiden
voyage to be perfect.

That's right. Now you can see
from the passenger list

that all our guests are
distinguished, sophisticated,

and accustomed to
nothing but the best.

Hello, Captain,
nice tub you got here.

Uh, it's his birthday.

and I can see
he's wearing all his presents.

Well, my name is
Captain Marshall Monahan.

And this is my
Chief Steward, Mr. Garrity.

George Jefferson, author of
that classic bestseller

The Stiff Wore Starch.

This is my wife, Louise.

And this is Florence.
We bought her along
as shark repellent.

It's a pleasure.

You know, I was in the navy
myself during the Korea w*r.

Sometimes I think if I'd
stayed in, I'd have been
a captain today myself.

And we'd all be
speaking Korean.

Yes, well, now if you'll
forgive me,

I must go and prepare
for tonight's mystery.

I hope you all have
a very pleasant voyage and...

good luck, Mr. Jefferson,
at solving our little crime.

Good luck, you say?

I just might have it solved
before it's even started.
I'm that good.

Yes, sir. Whatever
you say, sir.

Come on, George.
Let's go to our cabin.

Not a chance, Weez,
some of the greatest
mystery writers in the world

are gonna be on this ship,
and I want to see them
all when they come on.

Oh, don't look, Weez.

-Where?
-Over there.

It's Edgar Thornton,
my most favorite
writer of all time.

Hmm, with any luck,
this mystery cruise

could turn into
a pleasure cruise for me.

Not a chance, Florence. He's
not carrying a white cane,
obviously, he can see.

Uh, George, didn't you
tell me that Edgar Thornton
writes mysteries

based on the lives
of real people?

Yeah. He just changes
the names.

See, half of the fun
of reading his books
is finding out

who the characters
really are.

Say, Ed.

In your book Capitol Caper,

who did you base
your main character on?

You know, the President
who got caught spying

on the other party
during the elections?
Was he real?

Yes. Are you?

Oh!

Oh, yes, sorry.
I'm George Jefferson,

author of
In By Nine, Dead By Five.

-This is my wife, Louise.
-Ahem.

And this is our
baggage Florence.

Pleased to meet you.
Uh, don't mind him.

He's nervous because
he snuck on-board
for child's fare.

You know, I read
your latest book,
and I loved it.

What was
your favorite part?

Your picture on the back.

Florence, you're charming
and lovely.

Excuse me.

He kissed my hand!

Oh, yeah. Medic?

Mr. Thornton,

I'm sorry if
I'm being nosy,

but what is that you have
there in the box?

Weezy, what
are you doing?

Yeah, Edgar,
what's in the box?

Well, if you must know,
it's my crime-solving kit.

And don't call me Edgar.

Oh, sorry, Thorny.

Mind if I
take a look?

Uh, uh, uh, nobody
touches it but me.

It's locked and I never
let it out of my possession.

Well, good day. Florence,
I hope I'll be seeing
more of you.

And a lot less of you.

You see that, Weez?
I won him over. Ah!

Yes, George. There was
nothing but utmost respect

in the way that
he snarled at you.

-Oh, Weez, don't look!
Don't look.
-What?

-Over there.
-Over there again?

Yeah! It's Andrew Derek,
my absolute favorite
mystery writer of all time!

Is he the one
who wrote those
Broadway thrillers?

Yeah, that's him.

Hey, Andy.

George Jefferson, writer of
Blood Stains, No Problem.

Out of my way, worm.

No problem.

What just happened?

Forgive us,
Mr. Jefferson.

That gentleman is...
or should I say was
our second mate.

As you can see,
he has a bit of a
problem with alcohol.

And that's something
we cannot abide
on this ship.

Oh, second mate, huh?

Hey, Florence, why
don't you go stand next to
him. I'll take your picture.

For what?

That's the closest you're ever
gonna get to a mate.

I think I'll go to my cabin.

You know, you oughta feel
quite at home in these waters.

-Why?
-They're full of shrimp.

Weezy, I bet you'll
never guess who that is?

Oh, now, let me guess.

He's your absolute favorite
mystery writer of all time.

That's right.
How'd you know?
That's Mac Steele.

He writes those
two-fisted, hard-drinkin',
tough guy novels.

I know this guy's
a monster.

Sir, there are no mice
on-board, are there?

A man's man, huh, George?

Hello, could you tell me
my cabin number?
My name is Audrey Blume.

Audrey Blume!

Hello, Ms. Blume.
I love your books.

May I give
you one suggestion?

You should take those
terrific, smart, brave,
women heroes of yours

and turn 'em into men.
It's more believable.

You are a Neanderthal.

Ah, thank you.

One thing, for a woman,
I think you're great.

Another thing for a man,
you're not.

I'm impressed, George.

You're sure making a lot
of friends on this trip.

Charm is its
own reward, Weez.

Oh, good afternoon, I am
Duchess Henrietta Von Kolb.

This has gotta
be first class, Weez.

The Duchess don't leave
her castle for nobody.

-I gotta talk to her.
-George, please.

It's the Duchess!

Excuse me, Duchess.

Uh, excuse me.

But do you support the Duke
or does he support himself?

You, sir, are a twit.

And a Neanderthal.

I shouldn't wonder.

I take it you have arranged
a proper menu?

Oh, yes, ma'am.
Absolutely.
Enjoy your cruise.

Thank you.

-Menu?
-She's diabetic.

Her food has to be
prepared a certain way.

Oh, well, if you want it
burnt, you can hire my maid,
Florence, to cook it.

Well, that's it.

There are several other
guests already on-board.

You'll be meeting them
all, later tonight.

Oh! You see that, Weez?

I was worried about
not getting along
with these people,

I'm winning them over.

George, you were called
a worm, a twit,

and a Neanderthal.

And never by a better
class of people.

You know, George,
I'm really excited.

-I can't wait until
the mystery starts.
-Hmm.

Oh, Mrs. Jefferson,
guess what?

Mr. Thornton asked me
to dinner tomorrow night.
I think he likes me.

-Ooh.
-There's your mystery, Weez.

Excuse me, folks.
I'm here to inform you

that your presence is
requested in the salon.

How come?

I'm afraid there's
been a m*rder.

Whoa! It's about time.
Come on! Come on!

I was looking forward to this.
This is going to be grand.

Oh! Wonderful!

What happened here?

It's my wife, Bertha.
Somebody's done her in.

Hey, who are you?

T.J. Wheeler,
Texas millionaire.

I just can't stand the sight
of my wife's curvaceous figure
all slumped over.

But if you want to know
who did it, just ask that
lousy lawyer of mine.

He was having
an affair with her!

A-ha!

Well, all right, we were
having an affair, but...

she was paying for
my penthouse apartment.

She was buying me things
I could never afford.

I would never
have k*lled her.

But if you want a suspect,
talk to that secretary
Barbara Collins.

She was fooling around
with Wheeler.

A-ha!

Well, I certainly don't
have to stand around
here and take this.

Uh, but the one who
really had a motive

was T.J's no-good,
crooked accountant.

I happen to know that Bertha
discovered him embezzling

and was just about
to expose him.

A-ha!

That's a lie!
T. J. k*lled her.

She had all the millions,
and he wanted it
all for himself.

A-ha!

All right,
hold it right there.

A-ha.

A-ha.

-Hmm.
-Hmm.

What have we got?

That's a hair.
Ah.

Been so long since
he saw one, he forgot
what they look like.

That's an interesting
little puzzle, no?

No. Because I,
George Jefferson,
crime solver extraordinaire,

know who did it.

Who, George?

It was her husband.

Oh, what makes
you say that?

It's obvious.
Take a look at that mug.

If you were married
to this bat,
wouldn't you k*ll her?

Hey!

You're not exactly a Valentino
yourself, you little...

Bertha.

Well, as you can see,
this is the mystery
we've arranged for you.

And you're supposed
to be a corpse.

We're paying you
handsomely to lie
there and do nothing.

You should've hired
Florence for that.

As I was saying,
this is your mystery.

You have four suspects
and three days in which
to solve the m*rder.

The winner will receive
a trophy along with
the satisfaction

of having outwitted his peers
and the mystery ship.

Oh, Weez.

Edgar Thornton's
opening up his
crime-solving kit.

Wow!

And to think you saw that
without your magnifying glass.

Ahem, what have you
got in the box?

A magnifying glass?
Fingerprint powder?

Bordeaux. ' .

Wine?

I guess he'll
solve no crime
before it's time.

A-ha, what have
we here?

What is it?

A picture of the captain
when he was in the navy.

And what about it?

I was in the navy.
Small world, huh?

Small brain, too.

It's nice to see George
having a good time.

Quickly, everyone,
look at this.

There seem to be some initials
engraved on the Kn*fe.

Oh!

Aren't you gonna
look, Duchess?

No, no, no.
The rest of you can run
around like rank amateurs,

but I have seen
all I need to see.

You see here,
it's engraved on the handle
the initials B.C.

B.C., B.C. I got it!

Bill Cosby did it.

No. That's too obvious.

Look, that B.C.
is easily traced.

The secretary's name
was Barbara Collins. B.C.

Steele, you're pathetic.

If you'd been alert,
you'd have realized

the accountant had an
accent that was peculiar
to Western Canada

probably British Columbia.
There's your B.C.

-Oh, I got it! I got it!
-Don't give it to me.

Okay.

B.C. stands for when
the m*rder occurred.

B.C. Before Christ.

It's obvious.

Look at the victim.
She's old enough.

Now. Now.

At the risk of deflating
the male egos in the room,

I'm afraid you're
all wrong.

Now, a successful lawyer
would, no doubt,

belong to the very
prestigious Bellington Club.

And that's where the initials
B.C. come from.

A noble effort, my dear,
but alas, a futile one.

If any of you so-called
sleuths had any powers
of observation,

you would have noticed
the burning cactus emblem

on Mr. Wheeler's
belt buckle.

Now that is obviously
the name of his ranch

and equally obviously
from whence the
initials B.C. come.

You are getting senile.

That's the most inane thing
I've ever heard!

I don't understand why
they're arguing like this.

Probably because they're
competing with each other.

We also happen to
loathe each other.

Well, that's a relief.

I thought you were just
singling out my husband.

Well, I'm sure we will
when we get to
know him better.

Um, Mr. Thornton?

-Call me Edgar.
-Call me anytime.

Uh, why do you call
that wine bottle your
mystery solving kit?

Well, Florence,
I've always felt

a good m*rder
like a good meal

should be savored
with an excellent wine.

It makes me think.

Just a sip clears
the cobwebs from my head.

Have you got a gallon
for my boss?

I'd say that from the
angle of the Kn*fe,

-the m*rder*r was right-handed.
-Mmm-hmm.

-And he also had
a strong stomach.
-Why?

Because he left the
victim's face uncovered.

That's it!

I don't care how much
you're paying me.

I'm not going to stand here
and take any more insults
from that rodent.

Who cares? I've seen dogs
play dead better than her.

You know, Edgar, I think
we might have a lot in common.

Really? Why?

Well, for instance,
what do you think
of my boss?

I think he's an idiot.

Well, there's one thing
in common right there.

-That's interesting.
-Interesting?

Well, I guess you could
say I'm interesting.

But you haven't even
scratched the surface.

Actually, I'm a very
fascinating woman.

-That's odd.
-Well, there's nothing
really odd about it.

I'm so interesting you might
want to write a book about me,

but then I guess that's why
you were drawn to me
in the first place.

Tell me, what was
your first impression?

Well, that's rude.

I mean, if you didn't like me,
all you had to do was say so.

Well, if that's the way
you feel, you can
take a flying leap.

Oh, what happened?

Oh, we were just talking
and he keeled over.

I knew it finally
would happen.

Florence finally bored
some poor guy to death.

Hey, Edgar, come on,
the joke's over.

Get up. Let's have some fun.

We're gonna drop
some ice cubes down
the Duchess' dress.

Oh, my God!

Hey, hey, is this all
part of the game?

I'm afraid this is no game.
Mr. Thornton's really dead.

Dead? Oh, my goodness!

Don't! It could be poison.

Oh, here.

Well, don't just
stand there, call the police!

We're miles out at sea.

Well, pull over!

Who would want to
k*ll poor Edgar?

I mean, he just met me.

Well, he did say they
all loathed each other.

I'll notify the captain
and check out this wine.

If it is poison,
you should all be careful

because that means,
whoever the m*rder*r is...

it's somebody in this room.

Well, don't look at me.
I ain't no m*rder*r.

I can vouch for me
and my wife.

Ain't you forgetting
somebody?

You were the closest
one to him.

I'm afraid there's
even more bad news.
Listen to this.

"Thornton was
only the first.

"Everyone in this
room... will die!"

Thanks for the trip, Weez.