05x03 - Ed Writes Dear Abby

[bunniefuu]

Hello, I'm Mr. Ed.

A horse is a horse, of course, of course.

And no one can talk to a horse, of course.

That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed.

Go right to the source and ask the horse.

He'll give you the answer that you endorse.

He's always on a steady course.

Talk to Mr. Ed.

Good morning, Ed.

Sure is a beautiful...

Ed?

Nine o'clock.

Out all night again, huh?

His hay hasn't been slept in.

He's becoming a real horse about town.

Oh, Mr. Red.

Oh.

What a party.

Oh, my aching head.

Should never have had that fifth quart of carrot juice.

I had better tiptoe in.

It's hard to tiptoe when you've got iron shoes.

Uh-oh.

Ah, hi, buddy boy.

Happy New Year.

Cut that out, you big clown.

So, my playboy horse decided to finally come home, huh?

Look at that. It's after nine o'clock.

Where have you been? The Sunnybrook stables?

Yeah.

Oh, the horses there really swing.

I could have danced all night.

Then you come home and you sleep all day.

I hope it isn't asking too much, Ed,

but we were supposed to go riding this morning.

Well, let's go, Wilbur.

I'm full of pep.

We'll find out soon enough.

Hmm.

Oh.

What's that?

Happy New Year and get up.

Sorry, Wilbur.

I guess I drifted off.

The time has come to have a little discipline around here.

From now on, you will have your meals on time

and you will get home on time.

No staying out late. Is that clear?

Yes, Father.

Don't be a wise guy.

I want you home at nine o'clock every night.

Nine o'clock?

Oh, come on, Daddy-O.

You're pulling my hoof.

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.

h*-h*-h*-h*.

Why aren't you laughing?

Because Daddy-O means it, Horsey-O.

So?

At nine o'clock, you will have your dinner,

watch Walter Cronkite, and hit the sack.

Look at those eyes. They're all bloodshot.

You should see them from the inside.

You go outside, wash your face,

and then take that silly hat off.

You look awful.

Is that so?

Wilbur?

Winnie and I are going to an auction,

and then we're going to do a little shopping.

Do you have a few dollars?

I don't know.

I had a few, and they were right there.

Thank you, Wilbur.

Oh, honey, I didn't get a chance,

and I don't want to keep Winnie waiting.

Would you be a dear and wash the dishes,

vacuum the rug, and throw out the garbage?

Uh, simple, sure.

You're sure you won't forget?

Yeah, vacuum the dishes, throw out the rugs,

wash the garbage. It's easy.

That's near enough.

What are you talking about?

Are you ready, Cal?

We better get started.

The auction starts at 10.

I still say it's ridiculous

bidding on unclaimed luggage.

You don't even know what's locked inside.

Colonel, I think it's very exciting.

You never know what you've got

until you bring it home.

Just like marriage.

What did you say?

Nothing, nothing.

Look, why don't you two get started, huh?

No sense wasting time around here

when you could be out somewhere

wasting our money.

Thanks again, darling.

Mm-hmm.

See you later.

Bye.

Let's go, Winnie.

We're gonna be late.

Well...

But thanks, dear.

Well, I think it's awful

bidding, spending good money

on a trunk full of junk

that somebody left in storage.

Gordon, where's your sense of adventure?

I had a friend once.

He bid on a piece of luggage.

He opened it up.

He found a collection of old rubies.

Old rubies?

Yeah, old rubies.

Hats, shoes, dresses.

It was a mess.

Wilbur, you do have

a rare sense of humor.

It's more than rare.

It doesn't even exist.

Uh, buddy boy,

were you serious

about that 9 o'clock curfew?

That's right, Ed,

and you mind what I say.

Maybe I will,

and maybe I won't.

So, we have a teenage rebel

in the family, have we?

Just what did you mean

by that remark?

I mean, maybe I'd be better off

if I could live away from home,

have my own bachelor apartment.

Oh, stop that.

I mean it, Wilbur.

I want a swinging pad of my own.

Well, what do you say, Wilbur?

What do I say to what?

To my bachelor apartment.

Ed, I don't want to hear

anything more about you

living away from home.

You belong to me.

Maybe,

but those fillies

at Sunnybrook Stables

keep telling me the same thing.

Forget it, Casanova.

I have one wife and one horse,

and I'm not breaking up the set.

Dear Abby,

family counselor.

Will you stop reading over my shoulder?

You want a section of the paper,

just ask for it.

Wilbur, why don't we write,

dear Abby?

I bet she'd say I should break away

from your apron strings.

I'll write to her.

Dear Abby,

my horse told me

that he wants to live away from home

and have his own

swinging bachelor apartment.

Do you think he's right?

Signed, Butterfly Net,

because that's what

they'll throw over me.

You don't have to tell her

your horse asked you.

Tell her it was your cat.

Wilbur,

I'm home.

See you later, Winnie.

Well,

there's the spending half

of your set.

Better than the complaining half.

Come in, Carol.

Come see what I bought.

Excuse me, hot lips.

It's time I started living.

At eight,

I'm not getting any younger.

Yes, dear,

what do you want, huh?

This little suit

cost only $18,

and you should have seen

the girls grabbing for it.

Looks like they grabbed

more than you did.

Oh, wait a minute, Wilbur.

How do you like this outfit?

Isn't it different?

It's very clever.

After the lifeguard saves you,

you're ready for a party.

Did, uh, Winnie

spend as much as you did?

Oh, yes.

She bought a huge trunk

that was shipped from Africa

and never picked up.

What do you suppose

could be inside it?

With Gordon's luck,

a man-eating tiger.

Look, Colonel.

Congratulations, Winnie.

You'll be the first one in town

to open an African pawn shop.

You never know, dear.

Some of these things

could be very useful.

Sure, if we join

a pygmy tribe in Nairobi.

Winnie, what on earth

ever possessed you

to bid $45 for all this junk?

Well, a man bid $44 for it,

and I figured

if he thought it was worth $44,

it certainly would be worth $44.

Now, wait.

Now, just a minute.

He couldn't possibly have known

what's locked up in that trunk.

So how could he have known

what it was worth?

Well, I figured out

he must have peeked inside.

Well, now, just how

did you figure that out?

I heard somebody whisper

it was the auctioneer's brother.

You bid against

the auctioneer's brother?

Oh, and this is the woman

I share my checking account with.

Winnie, the checkbook.

The checkbook.

Give me the...

Hand over the checkbook.

Uh, Gordon.

No.

Look at this cute

little loincloth.

Yeah, the checkbook.

It's about your size.

You have just the hips for it.

You know, lots of girls

wear bikinis...

Winnie, the checkbook!

There's nothing left in it anyway.

Dear Abby...

Uh-oh.

Put the typewriter on the desk.

Dear Abby...

Dear Abby, I am having problems.

Uh-huh.

Hmm.

Ed?

Ed.

You didn't really write

to Dear Abby, did you?

I sure did.

Dear Wilbur.

And sign my name?

I couldn't sign mine.

Who's gonna believe

a horse can write a letter?

Well, now that it's done,

you know I'm glad.

Yeah?

Yes.

You see, Dear Abby's

a very sensible woman.

I'm sure she'll advise you

to stay at home

where you belong.

Well, Wilbur,

if she says I should move out,

will you let me live

at Sunnybrook Stables?

Ed, if Dear Abby

advises you to move out,

I'll let you live at the Y.

I still can't believe it.

Do you mean that Gordon

really took away

your checking account?

Not only that,

I think he gave

the bank teller's orders

not to give him

my free calendars.

Oh, I'm so lucky

I've got Wilbur.

He never orders me around.

Oh, the colonel

never orders me around.

He just tells me what to do,

and I do it.

Maybe a little of Wilbur

will rub off on Gordon someday.

You know, yesterday,

Wilbur was so sweet.

He did the dishes,

vacuumed the rugs, and...

Good morning, Ms. Pulse.

Why, hello, Mr. Hawkins.

Oh, you could have

left that in the box.

I know, but Mr. Pulse

mailed this yesterday,

and he forgot to put

the stamp on it.

Government kind of frowns

on that, don't you think?

I'll take care of it.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

And not only

did he do the dishes,

but he...

Dear Abby?

Why, she's that

newspaper columnist

who gives advice

on family problems.

Well, what possible

family problem

can Wilbur have?

Open it and find out.

Winnie, I would never

open my husband's mail.

Well, he's not my husband.

Let me open it.

No, Winnie, I couldn't.

That wouldn't be honest.

Well, which would you

rather be, honest or a wife?

Winnie, no.

I could never think

to open Wilbur's mail.

But maybe I could

read through it.

Oh, Winnie,

I can't see a thing.

Can you?

No.

I think it's sneaky

of husbands

to use thick envelopes.

Why don't you get him

a thin batch

for his next birthday?

Winnie, what am I doing?

I don't want to read

Wilbur's personal mail.

Do you mean

you don't care to know

what family problem

is bothering your husband?

Open it.

That's what I admire

about you, Carol.

Most wives would have

opened this right away.

You waited a while.

You've got a conscience.

Don't worry, dear.

It's normal for husbands

to want to leave home.

Winnie, what am I going to do?

Well, you've got to fight.

You fought to get him.

Now you've got to fight

to keep him.

That's the law of the jungle.

Oh, that reminds me.

I've got to rinse out

the colonel's loincloth.

Hello?

Hello?

Uh, hello.

May I speak to

dear Abby, please?

I can't make you out, mister.

Will you speak

a little louder, please?

Well, I can't.

My horse might hear.

Your horse?

He's sleeping.

Look, may I please

speak to dear Abby?

Oh, she's out to lunch?

Right.

Uh, you know,

you're coming over here,

and you don't want Abby

to answer your letter

until you speak with her?

That's right.

There's a serious

domestic problem to be solved,

and I want to make sure

she understands my side of it

before she gives her advice.

Yeah.

I feel like Whistler's mother.

I think I'm getting framed.

I'm sorry, Mr. Post.

I don't seem to find

your letter here.

Well, you'll probably

get it in the next mail.

Uh, uh, dear Abby.

Mr. Post, my name

is Abigail Van Buren.

Ah, yeah.

Well, the reason I'm here,

dear Abigail Van Buren,

Mr. Post, perhaps you'd

better call me dear Abby.

Thank you.

Uh, dear Abby,

I have this problem.

You see, um,

this youngster of mine

feels that we're perhaps

a little too strict with him.

As a matter of fact,

just recently,

he came home at 9 in the morning

after an all-night party.

9 in the morning?

How old is he?

Eight.

He's eight years old,

and you allow him

to stay out all night?

Well, he claims

that he has to sow his wild oats.

You see, he feels

that we of the older generation...

Mr. Post,

you don't seriously expect me

to believe that your boy

stays out all night.

Well, he isn't exactly a boy.

He's not?

Well, then what is he?

Well, he's, um...

a horse.

Excuse me.

Oh, Andy.

Yeah?

You sent that nut over to see me.

What nut?

Oh, come on, Andy,

you can tell me.

The boys up in editorial

are having a little fun with me, huh?

No, Abby, honest.

So you're in on it, too, huh?

Well, maybe I can have

a little fun myself.

Now then, Mr. Post,

you say that your horse feels

that he should be allowed

to live away from home?

Yes.

Now, the way I feel,

the family is the unit of society, right?

Right.

Yeah.

And if the individual members

all start to live alone,

why, we destroy our family life.

I mean, we're just

a bunch of animals.

Well, isn't your horse an animal?

Sometimes he acts like one.

Dear Abby, tell me,

where have I gone wrong

with my horse?

Where have I failed him?

Mr. Post,

you've played the tyrant's father

too long.

I have?

Well, your horse should have had

his own set of house keys

years ago.

Then you think he should be allowed

to come and go as he pleases?

Exactly.

No kidding, Winnie.

Gordon really gave you back

your checking account?

Well, how did you do it?

Oh, it was very simple.

I just remembered how I got

that checking account

in the first place.

Well, I'll tell you one thing, Winnie.

I'm not letting Wilbur leave home.

I've been ordering him around too much,

making him do the housework,

and I'll tell you another thing.

I'm going to be the best

little wife he ever...

Oh, Winnie, here he comes.

I'll talk to you later.

Hi, hon.

Sweetheart, you're home.

Oh.

Mm.

Now, cut that out.

We're married.

Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're home.

The house is so empty without you.

Mm.

Wow.

Wonderful. I'm in the right house.

Wilbur, do you love me?

Yes.

And you'll never leave me?

Well, I'll have to leave you sometimes.

Why?

Well, I doubt if I can sneak you

into the steam room at the men's club.

Oh, you're very clever, Wilbur.

Yeah.

Well, I've got to go out to my office.

I've got some very important work to do.

Oh, Wilbur, if I asked you something,

would you tell me the truth?

Sure. What is it?

Would you ever want to live away from home?

Are you kidding?

I didn't get married to become a bachelor.

Oh.

You mean it, Wilbur?

I can have my own apartment at Sunnybrook's Table?

That's right, Ed.

Yeah, we made a deal, didn't we?

Yeah.

Dear Abby says you have the right

to live away from home,

and you have the right to live away from home

if you really want to.

Well, don't feel too bad.

I'll write you every day.

I... I'd like that, Ed.

Well, the man from the stables

will be here any minute to pick you up.

I guess I'd better get you packed, Ed.

Oh, boy.

Don't forget, after every meal, huh?

Ed, I want you to phone me each day.

Let me know where you're going and who you're out with.

Wilbur, it's no fun leaving home

if you've got to take it with you.

Just, uh, don't forget, Ed,

don't do anything that you'd be ashamed to tell me about.

There go my nights.

And, you know, when you shower,

keep your head dry.

I can't believe, Ed, that you really want to leave home

and get your own apartment.

Well, buddy boy, you're a wonderful friend,

but I'm a horse, and there comes a time

when a horse wants to be with a horse.

I guess you're right.

Yeah, you are alone here.

But I'll miss you, pal.

Ah!

Pack your comic books.

Would you mind packing this?

We have had a lot of fun together, haven't we, Ed?

Yeah, we sure have, Wilbur.

You know, I'll always be grateful to you, Ed,

for a lot of wonderful memories.

Like, remember that time you had a cold

and you insisted on sweating it out in a real bed?

You sure looked funny, Ed.

But I got rid of my cold.

And how about the time I rented that car without telling you?

You were a big help, Ed.

Always keeping my office nice and clean.

And on the days we didn't go riding,

you'd keep in shape with the barbells.

I never did beat you at bowling, Ed.

Mainly because you cheated a little.

Who? Me?

And you always were a clean horse, Ed.

You never risked offending.

Well, so much for memories.

Mr. Post?

Oh, that must be the man from the stables.

Excuse me, Ed.

Right in here.

Hi, Mr. Post.

Mr. Buchanan, nice of you to come over.

I got the trailer backed up.

Want me to take this stuff out?

Yes, if you would. I'll give you a hand with it.

Some of Ed's belongings.

There they are.

Hmm.

Well, Ed, I guess this is goodbye.

Oh, excuse me. I keep forgetting.

Uh, uh, Wolber.

Yes, Ed?

Uh, what are you going to do when I'm gone?

Oh, I don't know.

For one thing, I guess I'll get another horse.

Another horse?

Why not get a dog or a cat?

Everybody's going in for compacts these days.

I'll see.

Come on, Ed, let's go.

Come on, fella.

Stop pulling me, Wolber.

Don't you want to go?

Well, uh, this is an important step.

Maybe I'll take a year to think it over.

Ed, do you mean it?

Maybe I'll need two years to think it over.

Welcome home, Ed.

Will you tell me a bedtime story?

Oh, you betcha, fella.

Come on over here.

Ah, ah, ah.

Once upon a time...

Yeah?

There were three bears.

Yeah, three bears.

Don't interrupt now.

Father bear, and the mother bear, and the little baby bear.

What did the little baby bear say?

You've heard this before.

Well, come on, Ed, picnic's over.

Time to go home.

Oh, do we have to, Wolber?

Ed.

I want to get some tan on this side.

No, Ed, you'll be getting freckles all over your nose.

Come on, let's get started for home.

Oh.

Home.

The second most beautiful word in the language.

Second?

Well, Ed, what do you consider the most beautiful word?

Uh, Philly.

I gotta leave myself something for when I grow up.

Oh, yeah.

A horse is a horse, of course, of course.

And this one will talk to his voice, his horse.

You never heard of a talking horse?

Well, listen to this.

I am Mr. S.

This has been a Filmways presentation.