(Herman) Wrong!
(Grandpa) Right!
Grandpa, I say you're wrong!
Wrong, wrong, wrong!
And I say I'm right!
Oh, these friendly
little family discussions.
I say every child should learn how to
play a musical instrument, you big frump.
I say never force a child
to do anything, you big clod.
Lily. Yes, dear?
What do you say? I say...
I say I'm not sure.
There. That makes
it two against one.
Wait a minute.
Where do you get two?
Myself and Mr. Gateman, my boss.
Having Eddie try out for the
school orchestra was his suggestion.
And when Mr. Gateman makes
a suggestion, Herman obeys it.
Thank you, dear.
Grandpa, the argument is over.
Now blow out your fingers.
[creaking]
Eddie, is that you?
Yeah, Mom.
Hello, dear. Hi.
Eddie.
Eddie, does this case
contain a musical instrument?
He did it!
Out of all the
boys in his school...
my son made the
school orchestra.
Congratulations, Herman.
[exclaims]
A trumpet!
Eddie, let's hear you
play something on it, Son.
Eddie, did you request the
trumpet or did your teacher assign it?
He assigned it. I
requested a triangle.
♪♪[trumpet playing off-key]
Very, very good, Son.
Never mind about the clinkers.
This is just the beginning.
That's just what I'm afraid of.
Marilyn, do you know what Mr. Gateman
said to me down at the parlor today?
I give up.
He said, "Munster, after
two weeks of practice...
"how does little Edward
like his musical instrument?"
Well, that ain't exactly
the Gettysburg Address.
[crunching]
Herman, what did you
say to Mr. Gateman?
I told him that Eddie
loves his trumpet.
That he was born for the horn.
Right, Son?
May I please be excused?
Before you finish your dessert?
Here, Eddie, let
me peel you a pit.
No, thanks, I'm full.
There's a movie called
Captain Blood on television.
Oh, good. Very well
then, dear. Run along.
One second, Son. Did
you finish your homework?
Yes, sir.
Did you practice your trumpet?
No, but I'll practice during
commercials. I promise.
No, you won't, Edward. You'll practice
right now before you turn on the set.
Go in there, Son, and
limber up the old lip.
[Eddie mumbling]
Please do not mumble
about me behind my back...
unless you do it to my face.
Herman, don't you think we
may be pushing the child too hard?
In a field in which he
may have no talent.
♪♪[trumpet playing
Carnival of Venice]
♪♪[trumpet playing off-key]
What do you mean no talent?
Well, I...
By George, I think he's got it.
With all due respect...
making me practice
today is a dirty rotten gyp.
Why? Because today is Sunday.
And Sunday is the day of rest.
Okay.
I'll make a deal with you.
On the day of rest, you
practice sitting down.
Thanks.
[sighs]
Pop.
I wish there was a way I
could learn to play by magic.
There isn't.
♪♪[playing Carnival
of Venice off-key]
Now let me see if I
can remember this, Igor.
[bat squeaking]
I got it!
[laughing]
Here we are.
♪♪[humming]
Three strands of Leonard
Bernstein's favorite sauerkraut.
♪♪[continues humming]
[exclaims]
[snickering]
♪♪[trumpet
continues playing off-key]
♪♪[humming]
A glass of water from
the beautiful Blue Danube.
♪♪[humming]
♪♪[trumpet continues playing]
[squeaking]
[snickering] And one chopped
photograph of Ludwig van Beethoven.
♪♪[humming]
A stein of beer from
The Whippenpoof Song.
[bat squeaking]
♪♪[trumpet continues playing]
[laughing] And a bucket of bilge
water from the H. M. S. Pinafore.
[exclaims]
[grunting]
♪♪[humming]
♪♪[trumpet continues playing]
All right.
All right, Igor.
I know it's enough
to drive a bat bats.
Perch.
Perch.
Scat.
Hi, Grandpa. How are you?
Well, what have we here?
We have a Sunday treat.
[grunts]
Marilyn...
when an old man asks you a
question, it's polite to answer him.
It's a... [sighs]
It's a Sunday treat.
I made a fresh batch
of sour lemonade...
and Aunt Lily made
these gorgeous cookies.
[exclaiming]
[laughs]
Mummy.
Scorpion.
And a dinosaur.
It's not as good as
having the real thing.
But I guess it will have to do.
You bring these in and
I'll carry in the lemonade.
All right.
[crunching]
[snickering]
Herman, Lily, Marilyn...
Grandpa and Eddie.
♪♪[humming]
Fresh ice-cold lemonade.
Ice-cold lemonade here.
Ladies first.
Thank you, Grandpa. Marilyn.
That lemonade's wonderful.
[clears throat]
Herman.
You first. Age before beauty.
Now, let me see,
which one shall I take?
Herman, it's polite to
take the one closest to you.
Don't you have any
manners, you stupid clod?
Killjoy.
[snickers]
Eddie.
Thanks, Grandpa. I'm thirsty.
[gulping]
[exclaims]
These spider cookies are good.
You know, I've been
just wondering...
♪♪[playing Carnival
of Venice tunefully]
[Eddie stops playing]
Eddie, that was magnificent.
(Marilyn) That was just fantastic.
I know.
Eddie!
Is my son a musician
or is my son a musician?
I'm gonna have Mr. Gateman come
over here at 8:00 tomorrow night.
Tomorrow night?
I sure hope I can whip
up another batch in time.
What did you say, Grandpa?
Nothing. I was just
talking to myself.
What a night it will be!
Well, girls.
Is everything going smoothly?
Mr. Gateman is
very fussy, you know.
Down at the parlor, he even
insists that the shoes be shined.
Uncle Herman, everything
is going fine. Relax.
No, I am not going
to relax until later.
When I hear the words:
"Munster, your son
is a musical genius...
"and I'm going to use my
influence to arrange his first concert."
What's on tonight's menu?
[exclaims]
Iguana soup...
salamander salad with
centipede dressing...
and rolled hyena-foot roast.
Goody! That's just
what Mr. Gateman likes.
Nothing fancy, just
plain home cooking.
[creaking]
[sniffing]
Get back in there.
You're not done yet.
[grunts]
[chuckles]
"Potions for the fine arts...
"such as painting,
sculpture, music, and bowling.
"They must be frequently
repeated in order to remain effective.
"Caution...
[trapdoor opening]
[trapdoor creaking] "always
use the same formula.
[footsteps thudding] "If
not, therein lies disaster."
Hi, Grandpa. What's cooking?
Herman, can't you to show some
respect for tonight's guest of honor?
Why don't you go upstairs
and change your socks?
I already did. Good.
Then go upstairs and
rehearse your groveling.
Hi, Igor.
Hi, Igor.
Grandpa, Igor snubbed me.
He can't hear you.
He's wearing ear muffs.
Why?
Search me. Who am I
to tell a bat how to dress?
[squeaking]
Let me see now if I
can remember this.
Was it Beethoven's sauerkraut
and Bernstein's photograph...
or was it Bernstein's sauerkraut
and Beethoven's photograph?
And the first man said:
"The dog can't talk...
"the mouse is a ventriloquist."
[sighs]
[laughs]
[laughing]
That'll do, Munster.
Don't overdo it.
Mr. Gateman, I think we
can conservatively say, sir...
that you have the best sense
of humor in the United States.
Mr. Gateman, would you
care for some more pie?
Mrs. M...
being that I'm in a gay party
mood, I would love some.
(Marilyn) Isn't Mrs.
M. a good cook?
Indeed she is. "Fit for a
king," to coin a phrase.
And Mr. G. is a good eater.
Or as we say down at the parlor:
"He is one guy who really
knows how to put it away."
[laughing]
My sense of humor does not
include jokes at my expense.
Shall I cut it for you, sir?
No, and stop begging just
because you carved my iguana.
Count Dracula.
There was something
from some garden...
chicken soup from Liberace...
Grandpa, our guest
is speaking to you.
Yes, young man?
You've been as quiet
as a customer all evening.
I'm basically shy.
Where's little Edward?
Eddie is in the living room
getting ready to play for us.
Then we mustn't
keep him in suspense.
Let's go inside and
start the concert.
Look at those interesting patterns
the candlelight makes on the ceiling.
Well, that's
enough there, folks.
Eddie, you forgot your milk.
Munster, put me down! Yes, sir.
I know you have to have your milk.
Go ahead, drink it down like a good boy.
That's it. Good boy.
Would you like me to
slip off your shoesies?
No. But I would like
your assurance...
that the music will be confined
either to semi-classical or classical.
I detest these new sounds like the
Black Bottom and the Lambeth Walk.
Ladies and gentlemen...
it gives me great pleasure to
introduce my son, the genius...
Master Edward
Wolfgang Munster...
who will now play a selection...
from the ever popular
Carnival in Venice.
♪♪[playing jazz]
Munster. Yes, sir.
I have just two words for you.
I'm insulted?
No. You're fired.
Oh, dear!
Edward, why did you play...
[stuttering] that jazz...
instead of the ever
popular Carnival in Venice?
Beats me, Daddy-O. Like, man,
something just came over me, like...
What?
What?
It was a mistake
anyone could make.
Grandpa, that's not true.
Marilyn's right.
It's a mistake only
you could make.
That's right, go ahead. Go
right ahead and pick on me.
But where were the
complaints after my first potion?
We didn't even know it existed.
If we had, do you think we
would have let you give it to Eddie?
[scoffing] We don't even let
you help him with his homework.
Speaking of homework...
when I asked Eddie to come to
breakfast or he'd be late for school...
he told me he isn't
going to school.
(Marilyn) Why not?
His exact words were:
"Mommy-O, education
is Squaresville."
Is that so?
[scoffs]
Well, I am going to give him
some exact words of my own.
[crockery clinking]
[inaudible]
Lily, according to my
mathematical calculations...
the unpleasant side-effects...
of my potion on Eddie's
personality will wear off shortly.
How short is shortly?
Any time between the next
two minutes and six months.
♪♪[playing soft jazz]
Eddie.
[knocking continues]
Cool it, baby, cool it.
[sighs]
I am en route to
your admittance.
[creaking]
To what do I owe the
birdness of your company?
Oh, I just wanted to
come up and have a little...
father to sonny-O chatty-O.
Groovy.
Say, listen, man,
why don't we...
take a seat in your pad here...
and take a
loadsville off our feet.
[sighs]
Your mommy-O tells me...
like, you don't
want to go to school.
You know it, man.
Like, my motto is...
don't be a high
school dropout...
drop out in grammar school.
Man, that's a real
groovy idea but...
like, what do you
plan to do instead...
like.
Like, my horn and I
are gonna jet to Vegas...
and blast our way
into a lounge act.
Man, that idea
is 23 skidoo but...
don't you have to be
sixteensville to get a work permit?
Gosh, Pop! I never
thought of that.
Eddie, Son, you called me "Pop."
And you spoke in English.
[laughing]
Sorry, Daddy-O...
I don't dig what flipped me.
But you loan me the
bread for the plane fare...
and I'll repay you as soon
as possible. Honest, Pop.
[stuttering] There,
you did it again.
Son, the potion is wearing off.
You all right?
Yeah, Pop. I guess so.
It feels like something's
going on inside my brain.
Something is.
And now let's see if
the cure is complete.
Play something.
♪♪[playing jazz]
♪♪[playing off-key]
That's enough, Eddie.
Son, welcome home.
You're my own little boy again.
[pounding on door]
[creaking]
[exclaims]
Mr. Gateman.
Good evening, Munster. I'm
here to give you back your job.
Then you discovered, sir, that
the parlor can't run without me?
No, as a matter of fact I discovered
the parlor runs better without you.
But I fired you unjustly, so
I'm letting you come back.
Mr. Gateman...
if I can only find words to
express my humble gratitude...
[inaudible]
I wish to offer the entire
Munster family an apology.
My behavior the other
evening was inexcusably rude.
Well, now that you
mention it, I'd like... Grandpa.
Shush.
Especially for a man
famous for his sense of humor.
Please accept my
apologies. Of course.
And please give me a second chance
to hear little Edward play his trumpet.
[stuttering] But...
A second chance?
Mr. Gateman, I think maybe...
[stuttering] Just a minute, girls.
Girls.
Since Mr. Gateman
is Herman's boss...
I do think we should
leave the decision...
to good old Hermie boy.
My decision?
[clears throat]
Well, let me see.
I think that after the way
Mr. Gateman has treated me for years...
[laughing]
that if he wants to hear
my son play the trumpet...
why not?
Should I let him have
Carnival in Venice, Pop?
Yes, Eddie. Let him have it.
♪♪[playing Carnival
in Venice off-key]