DAGWOOD: Uh-uh, uh-uh.
Don't touch that dial.
Blondie!
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
BLONDIE: Dagwood, get up.
Dagwood!
[♪♪♪]
Dagwood!
Dagwood! Dagwood!
Wake up, you'll be late.
Come on hurry.
Mr. Dithers just called
and he wants you
at the office right away.
[SIGHS] Daisy,
see what you can do.
[BARKS]
Oh, Alexander, good.
I was just coming to get you.
I think it was just about time
for operation desperation.
I've got the record.
DITHERS: Bumstead, wake up!
If you're not in the office
in 15 minutes,
I'll not only dock you
your week's pay,
I'll run your little finger
at the pencil sharpener.
You hear me, Bumstead?
Get going!
Look out! Gangway!
[♪♪♪]
Eloise, if Bumstead isn't here
in exactly ten seconds,
make a note
to dock him ten dollars.
One, two...
Oh, Mr. Bumstead, Mr. Dithers
has been yelling for you.
[♪♪♪♪]
DITHERS: Nine.
-Good morning, Mr. Dithers.
-[DOOR SHUTS]
I came as fast as I could.
I caught the first bus.
Well, I must say
I'm disappointed in you,
-Bumstead.
-Yeah. Uh-huh.
I asked you to hurry
and you wait for a bus.
Oh, I didn't wait for it.
I had to chase it.
I went through two red lights
on foot there.
But I made it right
on the nick of time.
Oh, I see, a clock watcher.
I presume you sneak out early,
too.
Oh, no. No one can open
that door before 5:30 without
the burglar alarm going off.
That is not a burglar alarm.
Merely an aid
to my honor system.
Now, as to my reason
for phoning you.
Oh, I know. You told Blondie
it was emergency,
and I came running
just like a good,
old faithful Saint Bernard.
Well, you can remove
your little keg of brandy
-and stop panting.
-Yeah, hmm.
I have a little mission for you.
Bumstead,
my facile brain rose
to inspiring heights.
-Mm-hmm.
-I have discovered the answer
to the great
matrimonial problem.
-You have? What is it?
-How to live with your wife?
Have you ever held out money
on Blondie, Bumstead?
Oh, no, sir.
Well, now, you can,
with the Dithers method.
Uh, have you tried this
on Mrs. Dithers?
-Well, not yet, boy.
-Mm-hmm.
-But that's where you come in.
-Oh, I come in?
-Mm-hmm.
-Uh-huh.
-You know my g*n collection.
-Oh, yes. It's wonderful.
All those old antique
dueling pistols and stuff.
[CHUCKLES] Gosh, I wish I could
afford a hobby like that.
Well, you can't on a salary
you're getting
-so stop dreaming.
-Hmm.
Now then,
there's an old derringer,
at Dow Miller Sport shop
that I've got to have
to round out my collection.
-Uh-huh.
-But if Mrs. D catches me
spending money for another g*n,
she'll m*rder me in my bed.
Oh, you can count
on Mrs. Dithers all right.
[LAUGHS]
Well, you needn't be
so careful about it.
Now, here's the plan.
I'll give you the money.
You buy the g*n,
then you give it to me
-as a token of love and esteem.
-I'll see you later.
Company halt! About face.
Are you a rat?
A sleeping hyena afraid
of a frail defenseless woman?
No, I'm more the mouse type.
I'm afraid of Mrs. Dithers.
She's about as frail
as a runaway bulldozer.
You can't let me down, boy.
You can't desert the ship.
Oh, yes, I can.
Mrs. Dithers would--
You are my one true
and loyal friend.
-Hmm.
-Surely you wouldn't deny
your kindly,
grey-headed old boss
a moment of happiness?
-No. Well, maybe--
-Good.
I knew I wouldn't have
to high pressure you.
-Now, here's 50 dollars.
-Mm-hmm.
Now, I have to drive
over to Northfield,
but I'll be back tomorrow
at 5:30.
Now, you stop at Miller's
sometime today,
buy the g*n, and have it here
when I get back.
Uh, well, okay.
Oh, and for heaven's sake,
don't let on to Miller,
you're getting it for me.
He knows I'm a rabid collector.
And he's just sharp enough
to boost the price.
Oh, I'll play it real cagey,
Mr. Dithers.
I won't even give my right name.
I'll make him think
I'm so hard up
that he'll come down
a little bit.
Hmm, that's a thought,
Bumstead.
Perhaps, if you appeal
to his pity.
-Uh-huh.
-You are probably
the most pitiful specimen,
I have ever seen.
Oh, thank you, mister-- Huh?
But I'll be fair, Bumstead.
You may keep for yourself
five percent of everything
under fifty dollars.
-Oh.
-So play your card sharply...
-[CHUCKLES]
-...and you can make a k*lling.
But if you mess this up,
I'll make one.
-Oh.
-So be sharp.
Oh, and don't you worry,
Mr. Dithers,
I'll have the g*n waiting
for you when you get back.
[CHUCKLES] And thanks again
for the five percent.
Blondie will be tickled pink.
Come back here,
you stool pigeon.
If you utter one word
to Blondie about that g*n,
I'll have you stuffed
with pigeon feathers.
Oh, don't you worry,
I won't make any word. I swear.
Swear by the sacred
oath of our lodge,
the Loyal Order of Caribou.
Oh, well, I would in a minute,
Mr. Dithers.
But I'm not a member.
-You are not a member, Bumstead?
-No.
Not a brother in that
great fraternity of love,
-trust, and understanding?
-Uh-uh.
-May I ask why not?
-You blackballed me.
Oh.
[♪♪♪]
Any ideas yet?
[♪♪♪]
Fine family we are.
Tomorrow is your
father's birthday,
and we haven't even bought
him a present yet.
Are you sure he wouldn't like
that big dollhouse
in the toy store window?
This year, we're gonna get him
something he wants.
It'll be a double surprise
because the poor dear
doesn't even realize
it's his birthday.
Cookie, it isn't polite
to read other people's mail.
They're not for people.
They're for Daddy.
-Just birthday card.
-Let me see.
"If you live to a hundred
with each passing year
as you grow more repulsive."
"Our love grows more dear."
"Your neighbors,
Herb and Harriet Woodley."
Huh, a cheap ten center.
Hope they're gonna kick in
with something
besides a bum birthday card.
We should talk.
Let's all go downtown
and pick out something
he'll really like.
Come on children.
There's the most adorable
washing machine
in Crowley's window.
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
Wait, mom. Maybe we could get
some fishing tackle for Daddy.
Your father gets seasick
in a fish market.
Besides, he keeps
falling out of a boat.
We got to get him something.
Okay. We just had an idea
of what he wants.
There's Dad coming.
Maybe he's coming to look
at something in here.
[GASPS] Oh, let's hide.
We don't want him to catch us
shopping for his present.
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
-Welcome fellow sportsman.
-Oh!
Welcome to the Dow Miller
Shop, mister, uh...
Bum-- Uh, Smith. John Smith.
Oh, yes, remember you well.
Off on to a little safari
this time, I presume?
-Safari? Uh, what's that?
-[LAUGHS]
I knew that it gets you.
And you know why?
Because you've got deep sea
fisherman written all over you.
You'll be tackle man.
What are you after this time?
Marlin, sailfish,
or tiger shark?
Well, I wasn't thinking
about fishing yet--
Hold it. Hold it. Don't tell me.
You're a skin diver.
Oh. And you've got
just the skin for it, too.
You know, the minute
you walked in here,
I said there's a man
that needs a portable lung.
-Yeah, um--
-I've got a beauty right here.
No, no, I don't need a lung.
I have two already. [LAUGHS]
You know, what I want is a g*n.
Big game r*fle, eh?
Oh, I knew you were a hunter
by the way you walk quiet
as a panther.
Well, if you're hunting
cinnamon bear,
we've got just the cinnamon
the bear grinds for.
He's not a very good judge
of character, is he, Mom?
Look, there's only one thing
in this store that I want,
and that is an antique
derringer p*stol.
How about that?
I pegged you for a collector
the minute you walked in here.
You didn't fool me at all
with all that talk
about hunting and fishing.
Well, I'm not, uh,
exactly a collector.
I'm more of a lover of antiques.
Oh, and you fallen in love
with my little derringer.
Isn't she a beauty?
Yes it-- Of course,
I don't have much money.
Well, that poses problem, eh?
You want the derringer badly,
but you haven't much money, hmm?
Well it means everything to me.
I'm a poor man,
but I just gotta have it.
All I got is 40 dollars.
Eh, friend,
I'll overlook that insult.
This is a valuable antique.
It has no set price.
You bid on it like
at an auction.
I bid, 40, 45?
-Fifty.
-Fifty-five, 60, 65.
Do I hear 70?
I haven't got that much money.
Honest.
Now, please, sir,
you have a kind face.
Don't make me beg.
Couldn't you be
a little more generous?
Eh, let's not get sickening
about this.
You heard the last bid,
Mr. Miller, I want
that derringer. I gotta have it.
-Everything depends on it.
-Well, uh,
haven't you got a friend
or a neighbor
that you could nick
for 25 dollars or so?
Yeah, I got a neighbor,
Herb Woodley.
I owe him eight dollars 71 cents
on a penny ante game but...
And my boss is out of town--
Oh, my boss. Oh...
-Oh, my boss.
-Please,
no tears on the counter.
I think there's a silver lining.
All you need
is a little collateral.
Let's say your house, your car,
an insurance policy?
Oh! Oh, oh.
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
-What's he want a g*n for?
-sh**t Mr. Dithers.
It's peculiar. But he does seem
to want it dreadfully.
So, bless his dear silly heart.
We're just gonna see that
he gets it for his birthday.
[♪♪♪]
Well, welcome to Dow Miller's.
Now, don't tell me,
washing machine to the lady,
tricycle for the little girl--
We don't fish, hunt, skin dive,
play golf, or tennis.
So don't let us waste time.
How much is that p*stol
on your fingers?
Well, now, that's what I like.
Customers that know
what they want, make no fuss.
[CHUCKLES] The last bid I had
on this was, uh, 75 dollars.
ALL: Seventy-five dollars?
Isn't it ridiculous the way
I mark prices down.
But that's terribly expensive.
It's for Daddy's birthday,
Mommy.
He does want it awful lot.
And he's going to have it.
Well, now,
we're getting someplace.
I haven't that much
money with me.
-But we'll be back.
-Ah
Come along, children.
-Goodbye, Mr. Tizzle.
-Ye...
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
How can we dig up all
that money?
I've got a couple of bucks
from my paper route.
And maybe I can make some
advance collections.
My piggy banks
got a bloated stomach.
I'll chip in.
-You're just wonderful children.
-That's what I always say.
We'll give Daddy a real
happy birthday this time.
Oh, I see, Mr. Bumstead,
you wish to borrow some money
on your insurance policy?
-Uh-huh.
-I trust you have a good
and sound reason?
Oh yes, I wanna buy a g*n.
Well, that seems the reason--
A g*n?
Oh, I'm not gonna sh**t myself.
In fact, I might be
preventing manslaughter.
I see. Does Mrs. Bumstead know
about this?
Oh, no, and please
don't mention it to Blondie.
-I thought so.
-Mm-hmm.
See, I can pay it back just
as soon as my boss returns.
Have you considered
that the Grim Reaper
might take a hand in this?
He can't. He won't be back
till tomorrow.
I prefer to the Dark Specter,
Mr. Bumstead.
-Huh?
-You leave this office
with your ill-gotten money,
and bam,
a reckless driver
strikes you down.
Well, she can't.
I've got the car.
You lie there in the street.
Your money clutched
in your broken fingers,
your poor children robbed
of the bare necessities
just so you can buy a g*n.
Uh-uh. Don't say that.
I love my children.
Are you proving it by leaving
them unprotected?
Well, I'm only taking
That's how it starts
small amounts,
then larger, and larger.
Until the last we have
to cancel your insurance.
What will happen to your family
then, Mr. Bumstead?
Well, I guess
you're right, Mr. Bates.
I won't touch their security.
And thank you very much
for putting me
on the right road.
Oh, don't mention it, my boy.
It's just a friendly service
of the Sun Dodgers
Insurance Company.
-Ah.
-I'll see you in a few days
about increasing
your insurance.
Ah-- Huh? Oh, yeah.
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
Why, Cookie, what are you
doing with Daisy's puppies?
I had to sacrifice
to Mrs. Woodley
for Daddy's sake.
Would you like to buy one
for just two dollars?
You mean you're selling
your pets
to get money for your father?
It's our only hope Mrs. Woodley.
You see, we need it
for his birthday present.
It's awful expensive.
Well, I think Dagwood should be
ashamed to ask for it
such an expensive present
that his children
have to sell their pets
from door-to-door.
[DOORBELL RINGING]
There's someone
at the front door, dear.
I don't want the puppy.
But here's a dollar.
Oh, thanks. And much obliged
for not taking Daisy's children.
Tell your mother,
I can't see her now,
but I'll see her first thing
tomorrow.
[DOORBELL RINGING]
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
-Hi, Mrs. Woodley.
-Hi.
I came to ask you
about collecting for the paper.
But I already paid
for this month, Alexander.
Well, yeah.
But I was wondering about
an advance on next month.
An advance on next month?
We need the money to help buy
Pop's birthday present.
Mom used all of hers
and Cookie broke her piggy bank.
I gave my savings,
but we're still short.
Well, of all the
picked-self-centered man,
I ever knew your father
takes a brass ring.
Letting his children
go out begging.
Well, Pops doesn't know
that we're out--
[DOORBELL RINGING]
That's probably Cookie again
with her dogs for sale.
Come back later, Alexander.
I'll have to get the money
-from Herb.
-Okay.
[♪♪♪]
You!
Hi, Harriet, uh, I--
Is Herb home yet?
I'd like to speak to him
about a little financial matter.
Dagwood Bumstead,
you ought to be horse whipped.
Well, I--
And you're not borrowing
from Herb.
Do you have any idea letting
Cookie sell those precious
little puppies
from door to door?
Uh, you mean
Cookie selling puppies?
-Daisy's?
-As if you didn't know.
Oh, I gave Cookie the money
and I'll give some to Alexander.
I'm not gonna break
their precious little hearts
by telling them
their father is a...
a selfish no-good bum.
Well, I... I was--
She's right. I'm no good.
I'm a selfish, egotistical,
heartless brute
that should be tarred
and feathered.
I wonder why?
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
Oh, hello, Harriet.
You're just in time to help me
ice Dagwood's birthday cake.
Goodie.
Let's do it with ant paste.
-What?
-Don't try to get him to me.
I heard about his demanding
and expensive present.
What are you talking about?
Dagwood doesn't know
anything about it.
It's that Mr. Miller
at the Dow Miller shop
that's jamming everything up.
What does he have to do
with it?
He's asking a ridiculous price
for a little old g*n
just because he knows Dagwood
has his heart set on it.
Well, that's taking
an unfair advantage.
I know it is.
And I'd report him
to the Better Business Bureau.
If I didn't want that g*n
so badly for Dagwood's birthday.
Oh, you won't have to do that.
At this very minute,
the Women's Shoppers League
is having a meeting.
We'll have them take care
of Mr. Miller.
I don't know.
He's a pretty tough Brewster.
Are you kidding?
Those old hands will pull out
every tail feather he's got.
Hello. Mrs. Schultzgarden?
This is Harriet.
-[LOUD GIBBERISH OVER PHONE]
-Oh, positively,
Mrs. Schultzgarden.
[LOUD GIBBERISH OVER PHONE]
Absolutely, Mrs. Schultzgarden.
Yes, indeedy. Goodbye.
-[TELEPHONE DINGS]
-Oh.
-I suppose, I could cut the wi--
-[TELEPHONE RINGING]
-[LOUD GIBBERISH OVER PHONE]
-Oh, yes, indeedy, Mrs--
Who is this calling?
Oh... Oh, Mrs. Woodley.
Yes, uh... Yeah, but--
[LOUD GIBBERISH OVER PHONE]
But Mrs. Woodley, I--
Look, let's put it this way.
If you ladies will agree
to a ceasefire,
I'll call Mrs. Bumstead
right away
and tell her she can have
the lousy g*n.
Yes, 50 dollars. Oh, positively.
[♪♪♪]
Well, it's about time,
Bumstead.
Where have you been?
I mean, I mean where is it?
I can't wait to get my hands
on the little beauty.
Yeah. There.
-What's this?
-That's your money, Mr. Dithers.
Now, don't get excited.
It wasn't my fault.
Somebody else bid the g*n up.
It-- Oh. Oh, no. Oh, my.
Now, now, simmer down,
Bumstead.
Let's both be calm and go
quietly over the facts together.
Yeah, well, the facts are,
we didn't get the g*n.
Uh-huh. Mm-hmm.
Somebody else bought it then.
Uh-huh.
You let somebody else
get my g*n.
Well, those are the facts
in any tone of voice.
Ah. You bought the g*n
for yourself.
-Oh, no.
-Have it hidden somewhere
in that miserable house
you call a home.
And then now trying
to squeeze the red corpuscles
-from my bloodstream.
-No, no, honest.
I haven't got it.
Ah, so then to my absence,
you've allowed somebody else
to glamour prize I cherish
above all things.
Unbutton your collar, boy.
I want this to be an easy
strangulation on both of us.
Oh, now, now, wait,
Mr. Dithers.
I even tried to borrow money
on my insurance.
I assure you that I did
my very best.
Well, your best has been
pretty sloppy.
And if I discover any
skullduggery or hugger mugger
about this, I'll tear off
your legs one by one.
Now, there hasn't been a skull
muggery or hugger dugger.
-I swear it.
-[GASPS]
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]
Cookie, keep your fingers
out of Daddy's birthday cake.
I'm only using one.
What do you suppose
is keeping Pop?
Maybe Mr. Dithers
really did it this time.
Did what?
Run his little finger
in the pencil sharpener.
Oh, Cookie. Mr. Dithers just
uses that as an expression.
He really doesn't mean it.
Here comes Daddy now.
Come on children.
Happy Birthday, dear.
-Happy Birthday, Pops.
-Happy Birthday, Daddy.
Gosh, I forgot
it was my birthday.
Thanks, everybody.
Children, get the dinner
out of the oven.
Where have you been?
Well, I was down
by the river looking
for a nice place to drown.
But there's not enough water
this time of year.
Mr. Dithers again?
Yeah, I goofed
on a very important mission.
Never mind about that now.
Oh, I guess I'm just a failure
to you and the kids.
Now, don't you talk like that.
We all love you
and you should know
Mr. Dithers' bark is worse
than his bite.
-Now, open your present.
-Aw.
-It's from the children and me.
-Aw. I don't deserve a present.
-It sure cost a lot.
-We sure had trouble getting it.
The children and I wanted
to get you something
-we knew you really wanted.
-[CHUCKLES]
Alexander collected in advance
on his paper route
and Cookie offered to sell
the puppies.
Aw. And Mommy did her share,
too, I know.
Well, family what's ever
in here I will cherish
for the rest of my life.
It'll be my proudest possession.
Except you.
Oh, I don't know what to say.
Instead-- Oh, oh. Oh...
Cookie, give him some water.
-[GROANS]
-Cookie!
Not over him, in him.
What happened?
Our present really
knocked you cold.
-The derringer.
-The who?
-This g*n. Where did you get it?
-Millers.
-Keepers, was that expensive?
-Huh?
[DOORBELL RINGING]
Now, who can that be?
Just at dinner time.
Oh, gosh.
Mr. Dithers
will never believe this.
BLONDIE: Well, hello,
Mr. Dithers.
Huh? Oh, no! Here. Hide it.
-DITHERS: Hello, Blondie.
-Hide it. He must not see it.
-Why not?
-DITHERS: I want that husb--
Just hide it. Never mind.
Dagwood is right here
and he's not skulking.
Oh! Hello, Mr. Dithers.
Did you come to wish me
happy birthday, huh?
Your birthday is not a happy
thought to me, Mr. Bumstead.
What's this all about,
Mr. Dithers?
You can't be angry
on Dagwood's birthday
just because he slipped up
on something.
Slipped up?
I've been double crossed.
Hanky-panky then and--
-Hugger muggered.
-Thank you.
-Shut up you Benedict Arnold.
-Now, just a minute.
Does Mrs. Dithers rave
and carry on like this
when you do some little thing
you shouldn't?
We will leave Mrs. Dithers
out of this.
Oh, no. Blondie's right,
Mr. Dithers.
You tell her the whole story
and let her get
-Mrs. Dithers' opinion.
-Well, as a matter of fact,
now that you pointed out,
Blondie.
It-- I'd say it's--
Well, it's just a little matter
between us men.
Eh, Dagwood?
-[LAUGHS]
-That's more I like it.
Now, you can just stay
and have dinner with us
-and help cut the birthday cake.
-Huh?
Well, that's very kind of you,
Blondie.
It just happened
that Mrs. Dithers
is dining out tonight.
Oh, yes. And we'll just let
bygones be bygones.
And you just come in
and stuff yourself like a pig.
[♪♪♪♪]
Now, isn't this nice?
Just one happy family
on Dagwood's birthday.
Delightful.
Happy Birthday, Dagwood.
Many returns boy,
pass the chops, Alexander.
Where did you hide the g*n?
It's in the lambchop
with the red band.
Hmm. Delicious looking.
I think I'll have the little
fella with a red undershirt.
-Oh, no.
-Don't be selfish, Dagwood.
Why shouldn't he have the one
he likes?
Uh, it looks tough and I think
I have better bicuspids.
[LAUGHS]
Your sudden concern for me
is quite touching, Dagwood.
Have some potatoes,
Mr. Dithers.
I don't like potatoes
on my chop, Alexander.
Mix the peas up with them.
They don't slip off that way.
I don't like peas.
Here. Gravy is what you need.
This will really fix it.
I don't like gravy.
-Oh, you never tasted Blondie's.
-I don't like gravy.
-But this is real gravy.
-I...
Attaboy, Pop.
Okay. Wait.
Now, wait a minute.
-Let's--
-Attaboy, Pop.
-Give me my...
-[PLATE SHATTERS]
What have you done,
you flat head.
Yeah, I-- It's only
mashed potatoes.
-The peas won't stain.
-Cookie, get a towel.
Alexander,
get the cleaning fluid.
Come in the living room,
Mr. Dithers.
-[GROANS]
-[TELEPHONE RINGING]
Oh, just a second, Mr. Dithers.
Hello? Yes, Cora.
Yes, he's right here.
Your wife wants to speak to you.
Oh, thank you. Oh, hello, dear.
Oh, yes. Yes, dear.
Uh, well, Blondie invited me
to dinner.
-Who's that?
-Cora Dithers.
-Oh.
-DITHERS: I forgot.
It's in my coat.
Yes, yes. I will tell her, dear.
Oh. Yes, dear.
-Of course--
-You left your antique
derringer g*n on the table
in the dinner room,
Mr. Dithers.
[LOUD GIBBERISH OVER PHONE]
Oh, no, dear.
Honest, I didn't.
You know, I wouldn't.
You told me not to buy
anymore g*ns
and you know I wouldn't.
-Get me out of this.
-Oh, sure, J.C.
Oh, no, no. Just a minute,
Dagwood wants to talk to you.
-Yes.
-It's his birthday.
Oh, hello, Mrs. Dithers.
Oh. Thank you, Mrs. Dithers.
Well, now, about the g*n,
Blondie saw
the derringer at Miller's.
And knowing how much
Mr. Dithers loved it,
we bought it for him.
[CHUCKLES]
And he was so pleased
that he gave me a raise,
didn't you, Mr. Dithers?
Raise? Well, uh, that is a--
Oh, yes, of course.
Uh, yes. Well,
it was my birthday,
but we both got presents.
Ah, well, thank you. Goodbye.
Oh, gee. Thanks, boss.
Oh, Mr. Dithers.
Now, let's all go back to dinner
and maybe someone
can explain this g*n business.
-[ALL CHUCKLE]
-[DOG BARKING]
[♪♪♪]
Dagwood.
[♪♪♪]
Happy birthday, dear.
Oh. You shouldn't have
done it.
-It's the best you can buy, Pop.
-Yeah.
It cost even more than the g*n.
I don't know what to say.
Happy Birthday,
you poor sloth.
[♪♪♪]
-Do you like it darling?
-Just what I've always wanted.
[♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪♪]
[♪♪♪]