04x07 - The New Principal

[bunniefuu]

-You could handle that

glass a lot easier,

son, if you took your glove off.

-I better not, Dad.

You know I'm pitching the big

game for our school tomorrow,

and the glove has to

feel right on my hand.

-He's even been

wearing it to bed.

-It helps me when I'm dreaming.

Last night I struck out

Mickey Mantle three times.

--[laughs] You going to

be able to do as well

against Middlebury tomorrow?

-I have to, Dad.

If we b*at them, we're

champions of the whole district.

How about coming

over this afternoon

and watching us practice?

-Oh, I'd like to, but I'll be

out of town on business, son.

-Jeepers, will you be away

tomorrow when we play?

-No, I'll be back this evening.

I wouldn't miss that game

for anything in the world.

-I hope I pitch good.

-Pitch how?

-I hope I pitch well.

I had a hard time

b*ating out Johnny Brady.

-I'm sure you'll do

a good job, dear.

-Well, I gotta get going now.

-My, you look handsome

in your new clothes.

-I like 'em too.

Aw, jeepers, Mom,

why do you always

have to put raw

carrots in my lunchbox?

-Because they're good for you.

And you eat them.

-OK.

But I bet you

Whitey Ford doesn't

have to eat raw carrots.

Bye, Mom.

Bye, Dad.

-Bye, dear.

-So long, son.

I'd better get going, too.

-Well, aren't you going to

help me clear the table?

-Golly honey, Whitey Ford

doesn't have to-- well,

he's married.

He probably does.

[theme music]

-Hey, hi, Mr. Wilson!

-Morning, Dennis.

-Catch!

-What?

Well, at least you could have

given me a little warning.

-That was my curve, Mr. Wilson.

You have to sort of

sneak that one over.

-That was pretty

sneaky, all right.

-Hey, get back there and

I'll show you my hummer.

That's what I call my fast ball.

It really hums.

-Well, I'd like to

hear it, but my wife

has asked me to go and

pick up some things

at Quigley's market.

-That's on my way to school.

I'll walk with you.

-All right.

Oh, here, Dennis, I'll

give you a hand with those.

-Oh, thanks, Mr. Wilson.

-You all set for that game

tomorrow with Middlebury?

-Yes, sir.

We're having our last practice

today when school's out.

Want to come and watch?

-Oh, I haven't missed

a practice yet.

As one of the committee

that bought your uniforms,

I have a personal

interest in that team.

-Hello, Dennis, John.

-Hi.

-Hi, Mr. Finch.

-Dennis, here.

This is what I want

you to do tomorrow.

-I'll sure try, Mr. Finch.

-You don't have to

worry about Dennis.

His curve gets

sneakier every day.

-Tell Tommy Anderson

his catcher's mitt's

come in at the post office.

He can pick it up

here this afternoon.

-OK, bye, Mr. Finch.

-Bye, John.

-Goodbye.

-Hi, Mr. Quigley.

-Oh, hello, Dennis.

John.

-Hi.

-I, uh, I have a shopping

list for you to fill out.

-Wait a minute.

I want to check out

our star flinger here.

How's the old wing, Dennis?

-It feels fine, Mr. Quigley.

-You got time to

peg me a couple?

-Well, I have to make sure

and be on time this morning.

You see, we're meeting our new

school principal, Mr. Spivey.

-Oh, that's right, he does

start today, doesn't he?

-Yeah, and our teacher

says he's real strict.

But I could take a couple and

then run the rest of the way.

-OK, let's have

a little warm-up.

-Want my glove, Mr. Quigley?

-No, no, you keep it.

All I need are my two hands.

-I throw pretty hard.

Won't it hurt your fingers?

-He doesn't have any fingers.

Just thumbs.

-We'll show him.

Come on, now.

Let's see your hummer.

Hah!

-Good catch, Mr. Quigley.

-Well, accidents will happen.

-Accident, my eye.

I'm a ballplayer.

Now Dennis, I'm going to throw

it back with a curve on it.

Watch it break.

[glass shatters]

-Oh, that really broke.

-Uh, baseball player--

-I gotta go now, Mr. Quigley.

Bye, Mr. Wilson.

-Eh, bye, Dennis.

-I can't understand

how that happened.

-Well, it's nothing that any

ham-handed, middle-aged man

couldn't have done.

-Oh, thanks a lot.

-But let's get back to the

grocery business, shall we?

-Yeah.

-Now about my shopping list,

I want three pounds of apples,

and I'll take-- uh, you

better let me do that.

You may miss the bag.

-Mr. Spivey is on his way to

speak to us all now, class.

I want you all to be on

your very best behavior.

-I'm always on my best behavior.

A lady has to behave herself.

-That's quite right, Margaret.

And you boys remember

that you're gentleman.

-Tell me, Miss Elmore,

technically speaking,

are we old enough to

be called gentlemen?

-Of course you are, Dennis.

-That's a pretty dumb question.

-Don't you call me

dumb, Johnny Brady.

MISS ELMORE (OFFSCREEN): All

right now, that's enough.

Settle down and make

me proud of you.

As I said before, Mr. Spivey

believes in strict discipline.

-Good morning, Miss Elmore.

-Good morning, Mr. Spivey.

Welcome to our class.

-Thank you.

My name is Albert

J. Spivey, and I

am the new principal

of this school.

All right, children,

you may speak.

STUDENTS: How do

you do, Mr. Spivey?

-I don't wish to

interrupt your studies.

Therefore, my remarks

will be brief.

All I demand is that you

work hard, make good grades,

conduct yourselves properly,

and give me no trouble.

Do you understand?

STUDENTS: Yes, Mr. Spivey.

-Good.

Now a few questions to see what

progress you have been making.

Young man, what is your name?

-Tommy Anderson, sir.

-Correction.

Your name is Thomas Anderson.

-But everybody calls me Tommy.

-Well, use of nicknames

makes for very sloppy habits.

Now tell me, Thomas, who was

president of the United States

before President Eisenhower?

-Harry-- I mean

Harold Truman, sir.

-Harry is correct.

-But you just said--

-Don't argue the point.

It wastes valuable time.

Just sit down.

Young lady, what is your name?

-My name is Margaret

Harrington, sir,

and I'm the school cheerleader.

And I am going to be an atomic

scientist when I grow up

because I have a very high IQ.

-Oh?

Well, tell me, Margaret, what is

the capital of North Carolina?

-The capital of North

Carolina is Raleigh,

and the capital of South

Carolina is Columbia.

And the capital of North

Dakota is Bismarck,

and the capital of

South Dakota is--

-All--all right, that will do.

-I know all of them.

-Splendid.

Just sit down and let

this young man speak.

-My name is Dennis

Mitchell, sir.

-Dennis, tell me, when I use

the phrase "great American,"

who's name springs to mind?

-Mickey Mantle, sir.

-Who?

-Mickey Mantle.

He can really slam

the old horse hide.

-Dennis is the star

pitcher of our team,

and they're playing

a big game tomorrow,

so naturally he has

baseball on his mind.

-I have little

interest in athletics.

They interfere with education.

You may sit down, Dennis,

and let that young man speak.

-My name is John

Roger Brady III, sir.

-Well, John, who do consider

our greatest American?

-George Washington, sir.

MR. SPIVEY (OFFSCREEN):

Thank you, you may sit down.

Miss Elmore, do I have time

to tell the children something

about General

Washington's campaigns?

-Of course, Mr. Spivey.

-May I use this map?

-I'll get you a stool

to stand on, Mr. Spivey.

You're not tall enough to reach.

-None of your

impertinence, young man.

-What?

I-- re-- realize I'm somewhat

shorter than the average man,

but I will not allow rude

remarks to be made about it.

-I wasn't being

rude, Mr. Spivey.

I just wanted to help.

-Oh, I'm sure that's

true, Mr. Spivey.

I've never known

Dennis to be impudent.

He's a good student and

captain of the baseball team.

-Well, I can tell you

this, Miss Elmore.

If there's any further

impudence from young Mitchell,

the team will be

without a captain.

That will be all, Miss Elmore.

[school bell rings]

-All right, children,

I heard the bell, too.

Just put your papers

on the desk as you

file out in an orderly fashion.

-Let him go, Froggy.

We got work to do.

-What's up, Johnny?

-Am I a better pitcher

than Dennis Mitchell?

-Sure you are, Johnny.

-You bet I am.

And I'm gonna fix

his wagon so I get

to pitch against

Middlebury tomorrow.

-How you going to do that?

-You'll see.

Come on.

-Here's his paper.

I got an idea.

And when I get through, it'll

take care of Dennis all right.

-Boy, Johnny, you

sure are smart.

-Can't deny it.

Go watch the door.

-Now, children,

this morning we were

studying some of our

pioneer forefathers.

Tomorrow for your

homework, I want you all

to bring in a short

composition on the subject.

-Dennis Mitchell, come up here.

-Me, sir?

Up there?

-What is it, Mr. Spivey?

Is it anything I can--

-Just let me handle

this, Miss Elmore.

Is this your paper, young man?

-Yes, sir, that's my

arithmetic lesson.

See, there's my

name up at the top.

-So naturally, this

disgusting drawing of me

is your work, too?

-I didn't draw that, Mr. Spivey.

Somebody else must have.

-Oh, Mr. Spivey, I just can't

believe Dennis did this.

It's not like him.

-I have the evidence

right here, Miss Elmore.

For this outrage, you

will stay after school

and write on the

blackboard times,

"I am sorry for what I did."

-Stay after school?

But I have to

practice with the team

so we can win the

championship tomorrow.

-Oh, I wouldn't let

that concern you.

You're no longer on the team.

-But I'm the pitcher, and

I've been working awful hard!

-My decision is final.

See that he carries out

my orders,m Miss Elmore.

[school bell rings]

-Tough luck, Dennis.

But look at it this way.

It's for the good of the school.

-How come, Johnny?

-If you pitch the game

tomorrow, we might win.

With me pitching,

we're sure to win.

So long.

-We're sure to lose.

You can pitch rings around him.

-I'm so disappointed, Dennis.

I'd much rather

lead cheers for you.

-Thanks, Margaret.

-I guess the cross Mr. Spivey

bears is that he's a short man.

I don't know what I can do,

under the circumstances.

If your father would come down

here and vouch for you, Dennis,

Mr. Spivey should respect the

opinion of a boy's father.

You want to call him?

-My dad's out of

town on business.

-Oh, that is too bad.

-Yeah.

Well, I gotta get over

to Finch's and get

my new mitt, Dennis.

I'll see you later.

-The man is being completely

unjust, Mr. Quigley.

Just because he's

principal, he thinks

he's smarter than everyone.

-Now, now, Margaret, let's

not be disrespectful.

Mr. Spivey must be smart,

or he wouldn't be principal.

-Not only that, but he took

Dennis off the baseball team

and he won't let

him pitch tomorrow.

-I said he-- he what?

He took him off the team?

What's the matter with

that idiot principal,

the stupid lemonhead?

Doesn't he know

the team will get

m*rder*d without

their star pitcher?

-He couldn't care less.

I'll take this one.

-Does Dennis's dad

know about this?

-No, sir.

Miss Elmore said Dennis's

dad could probably

straighten things out, but

Mr. Mitchell's out of town.

-Oh, fine, just when the

boy needs his dad most.

-He certainly does.

-Confound that principal.

Maybe if I--

-Tommy, Tommy, wait a minute!

What do you mean, he

took him off the team?

He can't do that.

-He already did it, Mr. Finch.

He's a real tough principal.

-Punishing a boy for

something he didn't do

is bad enough, but what

about the game tomorrow?

Dennis is the best

pitcher we've got.

-He sure is.

Middlebury'll slaughter us.

I wish Dennis's dad were here.

Miss Elmore said if the boy's

father would vouch for him,

the principal would

probably accept that.

-Mitchell won't be home

until tonight, huh?

-No, sir.

Well, I better get

back to practice.

Swell mitt, Mr. Finch.

-By George, this is a crime.

-Well, here you are, Dennis.

-Oh, hi, Mr. Wilson.

-I came over to

watch you practice.

The boys said I'd find you here.

They also said you'd been

dropped from the team.

Now is that true?

-Mr. Spivey got sore at me and

made me stay in and write this.

-I am sorry for-- oh, sit down.

I want to hear about this.

-Well, OK.

I'm kinda tired of

writing that anyhow.

Especially since I

don't feel sorry.

-Well, what happened?

-I guess it all started

when he couldn't

reach that map up there.

You see, he's kind

of a short man.

Well--

-Yes, this is he.

Who?

Dennis Mitchell's father?

-Uh, yes.

Uh, Henry Mitchell's my name.

I understand you've taken my

boy off the baseball team.

-Well, I-- I do not care

to discuss these matters

on the phone, but

you're perfectly

free to see me here at any time.

-All right, I'll just do that.

I'm not far from there

and I'll be right over.

-Oh, very well.

-Oh?

Well, I'll go and talk

to that man right now.

We'll see about that.

-Oh, no, don't, Mr. Wilson!

He's already mad at me.

And if you make him any madder--

-Now, now, relax.

Relax.

I'm not going to make him mad.

-It's awful easy.

-I'm just going to tell him

that I'm a neighbor of yours,

that I know you very well.

-He won't listen

to you, Mr. Wilson.

Miss Elmore said

if my dad was here,

he'd have to listen to Dad.

-Oh, yeah.

He would have to listen to

a boy's father, wouldn't he?

Has he met your dad, Dennis?

-No, sir.

Mr. Spivey just started today.

-Oh, yes.

Yes.

[knock]

-Uh, Mr. Spivey, I presume.

-Yes.

-My name is Henry Mitchell,

Dennis Mitchell's father.

-Oh, how do you

do, Mr. Mitchell?

I've been expecting you.

-Oh?

Um, I know the whole story

about Dennis, Mr. Spivey,

and I dropped in to tell you

that you're misjudging the boy.

-I always cr*ck down hard at the

slightest sign of disrespect,

and that's what I'm

doing with Dennis.

-Uh, eh, but this

picture, Mr. Spivey,

Dennis would never

draw a thing like that.

Besides, the school

needs him to pitch

that baseball game tomorrow.

-We've already been

over that, Mr. Mitchell.

I told you, Dennis

is off the team.

-You told me?

[knock]

-Oh, Mr. Spivey?

I'm Henry Mitchell,

Dennis's father.

I came to-- John--

BOTH: What are you doing here?

-I'm here to talk

about my son, Dennis.

Dennis Mitchell.

Now Mr. Spivey and

I are very busy,

so why don't you run along?

-P-pardon me, but did

you call him John?

-Well, of course I did.

That's his name.

-Yeah, w-well, it is my

name-- John Henry Mitchell.

Most people call me Henry.

Dennis calls me Dad.

-I see.

Did you phone me a

while ago, Mr. Mitchell?

-Yes, I did.

I called and said

I'd be right over.

-Oh.

-Ooh, you knothead!

Why don't you stay out of this?

-Why don't you?

I can handle this

better than you can!

-Well, this is a very

interesting situation.

Uh, sit down, Mr. Mitchell.

You too, Mr. Mitchell.

Good.

Well, gentlemen, I have

long been an ardent student

of biology, but this

is the first time

I've ever heard of a

boy who has two fathers.

Now could one of you

kindly explain this to me?

-Well, it's very

simple, Mr. Spivy.

This man is confused.

The important thing is Dennis.

Now you're mistaken

about that boy of mine.

-All right, all right, I can

see this is getting us no place.

Well, fortunately,

there is one person

who can settle this-- Dennis.

-You're right.

I'll go and get it.

You sit right there, Mr. Spivey.

I'll--

-We will all go talk to Dennis.

-You're messing this all up.

Why don't you go home?

-What?

And admit that I'm a liar?

I'll do no such--

-After you, gentlemen.

-Well, Dennis, your

old dad is back again.

-He is?

-Dennis, both these

confused gentleman

claim to be your father.

I want to know who they are.

-Well, I-- I--

-Mr. Spivey, there's a

man here looking for you.

-Oh.

-He says it's important.

-Well, let's hold

this little drama

right where it is, gentlemen.

I'll be right back.

-Yes?

You're looking for me?

I'm Mr. Spivey.

-Oh, yes, Mr. Spivey, my

name's Henry Mitchell.

-What?

-Dennis Mitchell's dad.

I believe there's been a

little misunderstanding

about that fine--

-A little misunderstanding?

Well, that is the prize

understatement of the season.

Come right in, sir,

join our family group.

-What are you doing here, Finch?

-Oh, I-- I didn't know

there was anyone else here.

I-- I came to see my

boy, Dennis Mitchell.

There you are, son.

-Uh, I'd better

get back to work.

-Your name is Finch?

-Hm?

No, it's uh, it's a nickname.

My name's really

Mitchell, Henry Mitchell.

MR. SPIVEY (OFFSCREEN):

Sit down, all of you.

Now I don't know what this

farce is all about, gentlemen,

but we're going to

find out, aren't we?

Now each of you claims

to be Mr. Henry Mitchell.

Now will the real Henry

Mitchell please stand up?

-The real Henry Mitchell

can't stand up, Mr. Spivey.

My dad's out of town.

-Well, at least there's

one honest person here.

-They're all honest, Mr. Spivey.

Honest they are.

I don't know why they all

said that they were my dad.

-I-- I'll tell him, Dennis.

I'm John Wilson, a

neighbor of Dennis's.

You see, I bought the

house from my brother

and I've lived

there for some time,

and well, I just know

that Dennis couldn't

have done what

you accuse him of.

-Just how do you

know, Mr. Wilson?

-I have his word, for one thing.

-That's all anybody

needs from Dennis.

That boy never tells

a lie about anything.

Oh, I-- I'm Quigley,

Quigley's Market.

-I'm Lawrence

Finch, the druggist.

Now Dennis is a good boy.

What's more, he's the

most honest boy in school.

-If his father were here, we

wouldn't have jumped in like

this, but his dad's

out of town, and--

-Honey, I'm home.

-Well, hello, dear, I didn't

expect you till dinnertime.

-Hi, baby.

-How'd things go?

-Oh, fine, I got

through early, and it's

only an hour's drive home.

Where's Dennis?

-Well, he isn't home

from school yet.

I suppose he's still practicing

for the big game tomorrow.

-I think I'll go pick

him up while I've

still got the car out.

-Good, maybe you'll get a chance

to meet his new principal.

-Yeah, that shouldn't

do Dennis any harm,

to have his father make

friends with the head man.

-So you see, Mr. Spivey, we just

had to do something for Dennis.

But I suppose we've made it

worse for him with all this.

-That's OK, Mr. Wilson.

I don't even mind

being sorry times

when I've got such good

friends like you all are.

-Gentlemen, I-- well, I'm

beginning to think maybe

I have misjudged Dennis.

-Everybody believes me

but you, Mr. Spivey.

-Well, it does seem that any boy

for whom three grown men will

go through all this lunacy

must be all they say he is.

-Well, of course he is.

-That's what I've been saying.

-Then you will put

him back on the team?

-Dennis, you're back on the

baseball team as of right now.

DENNIS (OFFSCREEN): Wow!

-Oh, that's wonderful.

DENNIS (OFFSCREEN): Oh, boy,

that's great, Mr. Spivey!

I'll pitch my arm off tomorrow.

You just watch me.

-Well, I'll find out who

did draw this picture,

and when I do,

they'll hear from me.

-Well, they should.

-I should think so.

-Well, I think I'd better

get back to the store.

-Yeah, I guess I'd

better get back

before the potatoes arrive.

-I'll run along, too.

Come on, Dennis.

I'm very glad everything turned

out all right, Mr. Spivey.

-Well, so am I, Mr. Wilson.

And Dennis, I'll be there

tomorrow rooting for you.

-That's great, Mr. Spivey.

-Come along.

Come along.

-Oh, I almost forgot-- I've

got to go pick up my things.

They're in my locker.

-Lead the way.

[knock]

-Excuse me, Mr. Spivey?

-Yes?

-Welcome to our

school, Mr. Spivey.

My name is Henry Mitchell.

My son Dennis is

one of your pupils.

-Oh, no, not another one!

-No?

-Well, what kind of business

did you leave to come over here,

sir?

A barber shop, maybe?

A filling station?

-No, I--

-Well, Mr. Henry

Mitchell IV, we've

had our little joke for

this afternoon, haven't we?

As a matter of fact, it has

taken up half my afternoon,

so if you will excuse

me, sir, please,

I'd like to get back to work.

Thank you.

-Hey, there's Dad.

Hi, Dad.

-Well, hi, son.

-Did you meet Mr. Spivey?

-Well, I think so.

I'm not sure.

He was so confused.

-What happened?

-Well, I don't

know what happened.

I just walked in and said, Mr.

Spivey, I'm Henry Mitchell.

Next thing I knew,

I was out the door.

-You, uh, just walked in and

said, I'm Henry Mitchell?

-Well, sure.

I am, you know.

-You're the fourth one today.

-What?

-Jeepers, it was funny.

We've been reading in American

History about our forefathers,

and today I really

have four fathers.

-We'll tell you.

We'll tell you.

[laughter]

[theme music]