All language subtitles for My Summer Story (1994) DVDrip x265 AC3-MarkW.english

Sometimes, events in our lives come and go

before we realize how important they were.

That Christmas when my Old Man gave me

a 200-shot Red Ryder range model air rifle,

with a compass in the stock.

Oh, boy, I'll never forget that.

It was the beginning of something
between me and my father,

but eventually I returned
to the jungles of kid-dom,

and the Old Man went back to
slugging it out in the adult world.

Then the Ice Age ended.

That's what we call winter in Indiana.

Anyway, that summer everything changed.

It was the summer my Old Man, my mother,

and I each had great adventures.

Ah, the steel mills.

Our own private Tyrolean Alps.

Now some people believed Hohman, Indiana

was the ugliest place in the entire universe.

But to a kid with one more day
to go before summer vacation,

oh, it was beautiful.

And if you think that blast
furnace was an eyesore,

take a look at our hillbilly
neighbors, the Bumpuses.

Delbert, where'd you steal this wrench?

Montgomery Ward.

Well, next time steal it from Sears Roebuck.

This thing ain't worth sheep dip.

Now, there must have been 400 Bumpuses.

Then, there was the music.

♪ ...and she was down in the
garden a-hoeing around tomaters ♪

♪ Had him run around the huckleberry bush ♪

♪ Then she hit him in the eye with a tater ♪

Yes, the "Bumpi," as we
referred to them in the plural,

loved hillbilly music.

My Old Man hated it. War was inevitable.

Come on, Ralph!

Yeah, Ralph, come on! Let's go!

Oh, there's Flick and Schwartz,
waiting for me to start my adventure.

And there's my Old Man, griping as usual.

Hot as hell.

Hot in the morning.

Hot in the afternoon.

Hot at night. Hot.

Oh, there I am.

Where you going? Out.

Hey, hey, hey. You be back in 20 minutes.

I don't want you late for school.

Where's he going at 7:00 in
the morning? It's a kid thing.

A kid thing? Don't worry about it.

He's up to something.

Go on.

♪

Hot coffee.

It's about time, Ralph.

Yeah, we're gonna be late.

Come on.

Now, kids through the ages have
waged war in one form or another.

Marbles, mumblety-peg, horseshoes...

In recent weeks, fighting tops

had become our weapon of choice.

So, I had sent a message
out over the kid grapevine,

"Keep a lookout."

Last night, word had
come through about a shop

that had a stash of killer tops.

We were headed for the bad side of town.

No day was complete without
a plunge down Suicide Hill.

Skydiving?

Bungee jumping?

We were adrenaline junkies
long before it became fashionable.

Oh, my God!

Schwartz, you moron!

Did your mother have any
children that actually lived?

Jeez, it's gold!

Let's go!

There it was. It was beautiful.

Oh, she was lethal.
Gold Killer, I called her.

World's Exposition. Beer from all
over the world. That sounds good.

Barkley. Barkley.

Come over here, come over here.

Barkley was the smartest mutt I ever saw.

He could do any trick ever dreamed up.

Look, he did it!

Except the easiest one.

He was a continual
disappointment to the Old Man.

Hey, what's the plural of moose?

Moose.

Yeah, what's the plural of moose?

Moose. Moose is the plural of moose.

These puzzles are tricky.

I was ready.

Ralph! Will you put that top away?

And did you do your book report?

Oh, no.

Now, my father had some old books,

which he called his
collection of fine literature.

But, somehow, I didn't think a
masterpiece like The Claw of Fu Manchu

would bring joy to my teacher's heart,

or the much coveted C-plus for me.

Then, last week, I found the book

he kept hidden under his mattress.

Now, I should have known
right then, but it had big words.

And the people wore old-fashioned
clothes, and stuff like that.

Just the kind of thing my teacher would love.

Wait'll Miss Shields sees what
great books I'm reading now.

Oh, no! You're writing a book
report about a dirty book, stupid!

"It's the best, most
interesting book I ever read.

"It is by an Italian,

"and I think this book is very interesting.

"There was this one story,
about a man named Massetto

"who worked in a garden

"and he made believe he was dumb

"and he did lots of funny things."

"And there was this one
lady named the Abbess."

"The Abbess said she
wanted to lieth with Massetto,"

"and so they lived happily ever
after, just lying around together."

Boy, that's great writing.

Are you sure it isn't
"meese"? That would fit.

Ralph! Downstairs in two minutes!

I had learned through the years

that if you want to impress your teacher

it's very important to
have a part in your hair.

I don't know why

but parts in your hair make
you seem very intelligent.

A lot of grease helps, too.

Ten seconds or no movie tonight!

What was that? I don't know.

It could have been one of our children.

Yeah, maybe. Up to something.

Randy, will you eat your breakfast?

There are people starving in China.

Now, my little brother
and I could never figure out

how our measly bowls of oatmeal were

going to save the starving masses of China.

But my mother always said that.

Don't you dare.

Randy!

You are in big trouble, mister.

You better eat every mouthful of that.

And you better enjoy it.

Mmm.

Mmm, mmm.

Every mouthful.

In northern Indiana, there
were two types of top spinners.

Those who merely played with a top

and those to whom a top was
a weapon in the purest sense.

An instrument of calumny,
aggression and destruction.

I was one of that lonely breed.

Lug Ditka was another.

Lug Ditka, the worst bully in
the history of Warren G. Harding.

Scut Farkus, my old enemy, had
been demoted to bully, second class.

Get the top, stupid!

Right, Lug.

I made my move.

All right.

Okay. Who's next?

Lug turned his evil eye on me.

How about you, Ralphie?

Who, me?

Yeah, Ralphie.

I hated to be called Ralphie.

Yeah, Ralphie. Wanna play Kill?

The game of Kill was primal.

A circle was drawn and the top
that was driven out of the circle

or crushed was the loser.

I don't know, Lug. I do have a new top.

Ooh, a new top!

Let's see it.

Kids were arriving from all directions.

The word had spread.

There was a new fast gun in town.

What is that? A Christmas tree ornament?

Let's go. Now!

Get your top. You get first shot.

Come on, Ralph!

Get him, Ralph!

Lug's top, known as
Mariah, was a natural killer,

with at least 50 or more
confirmed kills to its credit.

True poison.

And I had the antidote.

Gold Killer circled like a hawk on the wing.

Mariah quivered,

fear vibrating from every pore.

Or it would have if tops had pores.

Mariah staggered.

But somehow, miraculously,
the black demon recovered.

Then both tops spun to a halt. No kill.

Come on, Ralph!

You got it, you can do it!

Now, it was Lug's shot.

A feeling of foreboding was creeping over me.

Mariah hummed with a vicious whine

like a dentist's drill from hell.

As my first top skittered
like a drunken thing

I felt the sinking sensation of total defeat.

Get the top, stupid!

A has-been at 10.

Too bad, Ralph. She was a beauty, too.

Nobody can beat Mariah.

At least you tried.

Sort of.

And thus began my quest
for the ultimate killer top.

Good morning, class.

Good morning, Miss Shields.

Now, please pass your
book reports to the front.

What book report?

I'll grade them during lunch.

Schwartz passed up his smudgy scrap of paper

bearing the title, Sam, the Young Shortstop.

Thank you.

I added my magnificent
composition to the shoddy lot,

violins playing in my soul.

Ralph,

I'd like to see you for a
few minutes during lunch.

I want to discuss your book report.

Hmm.

Mmm.

Ralph.

About your book report.

That was a very well-written book report.

Good.

Now, Ralph, I want you
to be very truthful with me.

Truthful?

Where did you get the book?

Did you get it out of the library?

My mind, working like a
steel trap, leaped into action.

A--a kid gave it to me.

A big kid. By the candy store.

A big kid, by the candy store,

gave you Boccaccio's Decameron?

Yeah.

And, uh, did he say anything to you?

Yeah. Yeah, he said, "Here's a book."

He said, "Here's a book",
and he gave you that book?

Yeah.

Are you telling me the truth?

Uh, yeah.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

Where did you get that book?

Home.

A-ha!

Did you enjoy the book?

Now

I was definitely starting
to sweat up my corduroys.

Yeah.

It was a pretty funny book, wasn't it?

I knew that this was a loaded question.

No.

Well, that's good.

I had guessed right.

I had chosen to go with
the truth, and it worked out.

A long shot, for sure.

Sometimes you gotta go against the grain.

I should really send a note home about this.

Will you promise you will not
sneak into your parents' room

and take books anymore

if I promise not to send a note home?

Now, there was a deal.

What did Miss Shields
think my answer would be?

"Oh, no, Miss Shields,

"I can't accept those conditions."

"I took the book."

"It was wrong. I want
you to send a note home"

"so that my father will beat
the living bejesus out of me."

Of course, I actually said...

Yes. That's fair.

Summer stretched ahead of us
like an endless dream of ecstasy.

We headed immediately to
Pulaski's to check out his top supply.

You want a top or don't you?

Pulaski glared while the
Lithuanian and Polish housewives

clamored for soup bones and pigs' feet.

Come on, kid. I ain't got all day.

Now, we all knew Pulaski didn't have all day.

He stated this unequivocally,

at least 540 times every day of his life.

Do you have any other tops
besides those little ones?

That's all there is.

Pulaski slammed the case closed
and immediately dashed over

and opened negotiations
with Flick and Schwartz

at the candy counter.

All right, kid, what's it gonna be?

Quick, I ain't got all day.

Give me some root beer barrels.

How many?

I want three root beer
barrels and one Mary Jane.

I tell you every day,

that root beer barrels are six for a
penny, Mary Janes are two for a penny.

Now, how many you want?

I want three root beer
barrels and a Mary Jane.

For cripes' sake.

All right, what do you want?

Two black jawbreakers.

Yeah. Me, too.

No jawbreakers unless you take

a red one for every black one.

We hate red jawbreakers.
We hate red jawbreakers.

No jawbreakers unless you take

a red one to go with a black one.

It was history's first tie-in sale.

All right, come on, what's it
gonna be? I haven't got all day.

Okay.

All right, kid. What is it?

Three root beer barrels and a Mary Jane.

Oh, for cripes' sake.

All right! All right!

Three root beer barrels!

One Mary Jane!

We really hated red jawbreakers.

But, oh, those black ones.

When the proper cheek tension was reached,

the soul-satisfying taste of
those rich ebony masterpieces

began to course through our veins.

It was almost worth the years

of impacted wisdom teeth that were to follow.

♪

We'd been listening to this
stuff day and night for six months.

Wars have started over less.

But then there were the Bumpus hounds,

all 43 of them, all named Big Red.

Barkley!

Now, the Old Man had been training
little Barkley for a rescue mission.

Barkley!

It worked. The Old Man got away clean

except for stepping into some dog...

Well, you know what I mean.

Give it to me! I want it! I want it!

Ralph! Randy! Stop it!

What in the world?

Oh, no, the gun went off.

Ralph, don't shoot your eye out.

I hadn't shot my eye out.

In fact, exactly the opposite.

What-What's going on? Did you shoot that gun?

If my mother knew I had been hit with a BB,

Ol' Blue would be banished forever.

No one got shot. I backed into the bedpost.

Well, well, put that thing
away and come here right now.

Randy, the little rat,
couldn't stop giggling.

Honey, come up here.

All right!

Honey, look at this.

It looks like they're
building a closet outdoors.

What is that?

I'll be damned.

I've got them now.

But what is it?

They're building a crapper!

A what?

An outhouse! A--a two-holer!

An outdoor toilet!

And you can bet it's not up to code.

That crapper's gonna be their downfall!

Bumpus!

Hey, you! Bumpus!

Good. Oh, yeah.

Bumpus!

Shh. Quiet up, down there.

Now, you listen here! Stub your toe?

You gotta watch them radiators.

Never you mind about my toe!

Where's your permit? Where's your 204-77042?

Huh?

I thought so. You don't have a permit

to build an outdoor public convenience.

Well, you walleyed, citified idiot!

That ain't no pubic conveyance,
that there's a damn outhouse!

All the Bumpuses started up
with snorts and whinnies and bleats

and other sounds that
vaguely resembled laughter.

All right! All right!

Listen to me! Listen to me!

That outhouse is a public nuisance!

You don't have a permit!

That shack is not up to code!

It's a health menace and I want it torn down!

You got that?

It was a shootout.

Only the Old Man made a tactical error.

Well, you gonna tear it down?

He thought Emil was unarmed.

I want an answer now.

Oh, Ugh!

Ew!

Luckily it was only a quarter load.

A full load would've ended the
Parker line right then and there.

If you don't tear that down,

I'm gonna call the cops.

Whoa!

The Old Man had lost his mind.

Now can I have your answer?

Or do I have to explain what an answer is?

I'll give you my answer.

Big Dickie!

Whoa!

What happened next has become

part of the lore and legend
of Cleveland Street forever.

As long as old duffers sit on
porches and rocking chairs,

Big Dickie's awesome feat will be remembered.

The Old Man got the message.

If Big Dickie could rip the
porch right off the house,

imagine what he could do to
the Old Man's arms and legs.

War, Bumpus!

This is war!

Into the house, everyone!

Randy! Ralphie.

Dinner's in half an hour.

Ralphie, you go up and take a little rest.

Randy, take a bath.

I--I--I wonder what they
use their indoor toilet for.

That's a picture I never want
to have come into my head.

♪ ...have a home sweet home ♪

Yes, the Bumpuses were playing

another one of their classics.

It sounded like a chorus of toad frogs

trying to mate with an accordion.

Ralphie, you love red cabbage.

Shut up, over there!

They're doing it on purpose.

They've moved the Victrola
to our side of the house.

Turn that racket down, Bumpus!

I'm warning you!

The Bumpi just cranked
the noise up a little louder.

It's hotter than the hinges of hell.

Barkley. Good boy, Barkley.

Come over here. Come here, boy.

Sit up, boy. Sit up. Good Barkley.

The Old Man had this theory about Barkley,

that he was half dog and half rat.

That's why he couldn't stand up.

What's this?

Gravy boat.

Ronald Colman gravy boat.

It's part of a set of Pearleen Dinnerware.

How much?

Oh!

Um, ah.

About nothing.

Nothing?

What do you mean "nothing"?

It's the first installment of the
Orpheum Theater's free dish promotion.

By the end of the summer,
we'll be the proud owners

of a 112-piece set

of Genuine Artistic De
Luxe Pearleen Dinnerware,

table service to the stars.

Imagine that. Hey, I have an idea.

After dinner, why don't we take our

Ronald Colman gravy boat out on a lake,

catch a mess of trout.

Good one, Dad.

Hey, that reminds me. You know,

Zudoc and I and the boys are heading out

to Cedar Lake tomorrow
morning to bag our limit of crappies.

What do you think of that, Ragmop?

When the Old Man was in a good mood,

he gave me nicknames like
Rubber Band and Spare Tire.

You know, Bullfrog, if you're
going, you gotta clean the fish.

Going fishing? Wow.

This is what I'd been dreaming of for years.

No movie tonight.

4:00 a.m. comes awful early.

Fishing was the adult world. Oh, I wanted in.

So what do you say, Gasbag?

Yeah!

I wanna fish! I wanna fish! I wanna fish!

I wanna fish! I wanna fish! I
wanna fish! Hush, Randy, hush.

Yeah.

All right, Ralphie.

But I don't want him to hear
any of those awful stories.

Oh, he doesn't understand them anyway.

Fish.

Now, I had done a lot of
things with my Old Man.

Baseball games, you
know, and stuff like that.

Okay, pal?

But usually he didn't
seem to know I was there.

Now, I was going fishing with my dad.

Ah, the Orpheum Theater

and Leopold Doppler, manager and impresario.

My mother's great adventure
began at the movies.

It was free dish night.

The dinnerware of the stars.

You know, there's an
old saying in the Midwest.

"Never stand between an Indiana
housewife and something free."

The ushers opened the
doors and ran for their lives.

Oh, no, we already have gravy boats.

I--I don't know, ma'am.

Uh-oh. A gravy boat snafu.

Ladies...

Doppler, ever the showman,
stepped into the breach.

Do be calm.

But there has been a little
mix-up in the shipments.

So, if you'll kindly take your
Ronald Colman gravy boat tonight,

next week you'll exchange them

for a ZaSu Pitts consomme bowl

or a Carmen Miranda compote service

or some other equally
exquisite place setting.

Now, thank you all very much.

A Carmen Miranda compote service.

That'll be nice.

What's a compote?

Stewed fruit.

Oh.

All right, folks, it's time once
again for that fun game, Screeno.

Anyone filling out a diagonal or
horizontal line with candy corn kernels

wins a magnificent grocery prize.

Yell out "Screeno," and now here we go!

The number is 58.

Screeno!

That's very funny, sir.

We're all laughing, I'm sure.

Round and round she goes...

Amazingly enough, they
did show movies occasionally.

Boop-a-doop-a-doop-a-doop. Boop-boop-a-doop.

Napoleon, Eisenhower, Schwarzkopf...

Amateurs.

In his secret heart, the Old Man knew

that he was the greatest
military strategist of all time.

He and Barkley began their
campaign with a sneak attack

against the Bumpuses' elite
guard, the Bumpus hounds.

Go, soldier, go!

What? Had Barkley lost his mind?

Oh, the Bumpus hounds had him now.

Only they had forgotten one thing.

All right, Rat Trap, time to go. Move it.

Come on, Ralph.

Fish.

Wait till they get a load of this.

Oh, Parker, this is your masterpiece.

What are you doing? Just watch and see.

Mess with me, Bumpus, pay the piper.

Never forget what you're
about to see tonight.

And remember, vengeance
is a dish best served cold.

The Old Man was losing it.

Oh, I loved it when that happened.

Cozy in our little beds, are we?

Die, Bumpus.

Die.

♪

Yep, the Old Man had lost it completely.

He thought he was Nero
just before he torched Rome.

What in the world?

Welcome to hell, Bumpus!

What is that?

The Old Man was annihilating
the Bumpuses with classical music.

What a brilliant stroke.

What are you doing?

Do you hear that, Bumpus?

That's real music! Art!

And that's what you're
gonna get next time you

put on that hillbilly peckerwood junk!

You hear me, Bumpus?

Parker, what, are you crazy?

It's 3:00 in the morning!

But the Old Man was dancing a victory jig.

Pest control!

Suddenly, we realized something was wrong.

The Bumpuses didn't seem annoyed at all.

In fact, they were enjoying themselves.

A lot.

What are they doing?

It was my father's worst nightmare.

A hillbilly hoedown army was
massing right there on the porch.

The Bumpuses thought the Old
Man was having a hootenanny.

And they were invited!

Hold on, Parker. We'll be right there!

Hoo-wee. A-tootin' and
a-hootin', a-bangin' and a-clangin',

it was an army of morons.

Go back! Go back!

No hoedown! No hootenanny!

No wingding! There's no party!

Get into the house. There's no...

No! No! Oh, my God, they're coming!

Should I make coffee?

Are you crazy?

Where's the vittles?

You can't have a hoedown without the vittles.

Get off my porch!

I'll call the cops! I'll
call the National Guard!

I'll call the exterminators!

Uh...

Does this mean the hootenanny's off?

The Old Man just sputtered.

We heard the Bumpuses
caucusing outside the door.

I think he called off the hoedown.

Remember, Emil, he ain't too bright.

That's right. That's right, he's stupid.

And all the other Bumpuses agreed

that the Old Man was kind of
simple-minded and needed to be humored.

We gonna have our own hoedown!

No! No!

♪

I'll have to resort to my ultimate weapon.

Time to go, fish are just waking up!

Come on, Ralph, into the car!

You're leaving me with
this? Out of the way, runt.

I'm gonna go fishing.

I wanna go fishing! I wanna go fishing!

Ralphie, you're gonna get it!

I wanna go fishing! I wanna go fishing!

Hey, Parker! This is fun!

We gonna have a hoedown every morning!

The Old Man just shrugged
off the Bumpus defeat.

It was the first battle in a long war.

Hold up that Coleman, Gertz.

I want to get some repellant on the kid.

Everyone was coated with an inch and a half

of something called Citronella,

reportedly a mosquito repellant.

But actually it's a sort of
mosquito salad dressing.

Get some on his ears.

These skeeters love tadpole ears.

Ah, the wax and dirt in there is
too thick for any bug to penetrate.

Shove off, Gertz. No, no,
wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Start the engine before we shove off.

No, go ahead and shove off.

All right. All right. Shoving off.

You wanna drive? All right.

Me? Yeah.

Drive something with a motor on it?

I had died and gone to heaven.

Hang her out. Take her over there!

Look out, crappies. Here we come.

As we neared the center of the
lake, I couldn't believe my eyes.

Everybody was fishing in the same place.

Why?

Because this is the deep hole,

and everybody knows the deep
hole is where the crappies are.

All 47 of them.

All right, Zudoc. There's an opening. Hit it.

Come on, get out of the way, will you?

Hey, watch out.

Right here! This is it! The spot!

In a 30-acre lake, the Old Man
knew within a foot "the spot."

Shut up, you moron!

He'd actually caught a
fish there just two years ago.

So, without looking, he tossed the anchor

and two guys' lines got caught up in it.

The Old Man actually said...

Hey, don't mess with that anchor!

Hey, people are trying to fish here!

For crying out loud!

Come on, kid, let's get some
of those speckled beauties.

Inside fishing talk he'd picked up from

some moldy edition of Outdoor Life.

Grab your pole. Here, it's all rigged.

Now, grab a worm.

How do I grab him?

Hell, there's only two ends to a
worm and they're exactly alike.

All right, now you just
stick him on the hook.

Ew!

Ah, don't worry about
it. They don't feel a thing.

You wouldn't have guessed
that by looking at the worm.

Now, just ease your pole out.

That's it, that's it, just ease it out there.

Isn't the worm gonna drown? No.

No, worms are good swimmers.

Go get them, Tadpole.

So, here I am.

I'm half blind with sleepiness.

I'm squatting in the back end of the boat

with 87,000 ecstatic
mosquitoes sucking Citronella.

Oh, but I'm fishing...

I'm out of my skull with excitement.

All right, chum. Rained
out. Time to haul her in.

Don't worry about it. That's fishing.

Next time you'll get a boatful.

That's what keeps you coming back.

Really? Yeah.

All right, fellas, pull her in.

We're heading for shore.

Can I come next time?

Oh, well, sure you can. You're a regular now.

Wow.

Hey, where's my fish?

Did you throw my fish out?

If you call that a fish.

It was a perfectly good-sized crappie.

You're jealous.

Come on, where is it?

I put it in the bait can.

I think one of the worms ate it.

Zudoc, pull up the anchor.

Yeah, right.

I wonder why they weren't biting?

Too early. Not hot enough.

No, I don't think so.

No, you know, it hasn't been the same

since Sinclair Refinery closed down.

This water's too clean. Crappies like oil.

That's nuts. It's television.

What?

Television. You know,
that new experimental stuff.

Radio with pictures.

They got one down at Higbee's.

They're sending television
waves all out everywhere.

It's killing the fish.

It's exploding their brains.

Ten years from now, there won't be any fish.

Just crappie brains splattered everywhere.

Oh, yeah?

Absolutely.

As we moved into July,

I still hadn't found my killer top.

But then I heard another
rumor on the kid grapevine,

about a mysterious shop

that had gotten in a line of
illegal, Chinese killer tops. Whoa!

Are you sure they were smuggled in?

Yeah, they're banned in this country.

You can go to jail if you're caught with one.

Yeah, they got knives hidden in
them that come out at super speed

and slash the other guy's top so
fast he'll never even see it happen.

Ah, baloney.

That's what Kissel said.

This big kid told him.

Yeah, and some of them are poisoned tops.

A poisoned top?

I wasn't exactly sure how one
top could poison another top,

but it sounded promising.

Wow.

Beautiful, ain't they?

The poison must be in the flower.

Shoots or squirts or something.

The only thing was that they had

little bitty roses painted on them.

I don't know.

You want? Not got all day.

Obviously, he and old man Pulaski

were from the same school of shopkeeping.

You got any others?

No others. Only top.

Beautiful. Hand-painted.

Hand-painted. How much?

Twenty-five cent.

Twenty-five cents? Twenty-five cents?

A quarter?

Holy smokes.

That's my allowance for two whole weeks.

That's cheap. Top imported.

Imported! Imported!

Imported!

Imported was right up there with smuggled.

That did it. I was convinced
Lug's days were numbered.

Yeah. Take the red one.

Yeah, come on. Let's go.

Whoa. She's a beauty.

Listen to that hum! A natural born killer.

Hey, wow! I saw the knife.

No. I swear.

Zip, zip, just like that. Hey, wait.

We better not get too close,
it might shoot out poison.

Lug Ditka bites the dust.

Yeah.

Invisible knives? Poison?

Somewhere in the primitive
recesses of my brain,

the warrior was trying to tell me something.

But I'm not listening.

Come on, Lug!

Any on the lot.

Shut up!

What'd you say?

Once, some kid from another planet

had been stupid enough to tell Lug

that playing marbles with
ball bearings wasn't fair.

I don't want to talk about
what happened next.

Well, old Lug did it again.

Yeah, you gotta be a real
moron to go against old Lug.

Flick and Schwartz were sent in to bait Lug.

Where are you guys from? The moon?

You're going up against Lug Ditka?

They did it with their usual
savoir-faire and subtlety.

Gee, you gotta be crazy to go
against Lug Ditka in marbles or in tops.

We know a guy who's got a Chinese
killer top smuggled in from China.

Even he won't go against old Lug.

What'd you say?

Uh, uh, nothing, Lug. Uh, nothing.

Who's got a Chinese top? Who?

Parker! Parker's got it!

Suddenly, the air was charged.

I stepped up, cockiness
oozing from every pore.

All right, let's see it.

In your face, Ditka.

Then, there was a long,
silent, disbelieving moment.

And I knew I was in trouble.

What is that?

It's got things painted on it.

I'll be damned. Roses.

I-It's got little, bitty roses painted on it.

A small ripple of laughter starts to swell.

And then disaster.

Well, I think it's pretty.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

The ripple turned into a tidal wave.

Of course, Flick and
Schwartz stayed at my side

right to the bitter end.

It was only a joke. Can't you take a joke?

Behind me, I heard Lug's parting shot.

Be sure to water it when you get home.

It's the tax collector, for crying out loud.

Ralphie! You get up here right now!

In those days, the Indiana
personal property tax

was very, very personal.

All personal property
was evaluated and taxed.

All personal property.

Footstools, footballs, fielder's mitts,

egg beaters, dentures. Everything.

It's the tax collector, for crying out
loud. Go ahead, hurry up, hurry up.

Take the radio. Take it down to the coal bin.

Bring up the old radio. Bring
up the old radio. It's all right.

Okay, hurry up. That's old. That's old.

Sit down, Randy! That's old.

Let's see. That's old,
that's old, that's old.

That's new!

All right!

Oh, no, she was forgetting
about the elephant foot end table.

That's new.

Old, old, old

The fish!

Numbskull! He's not gonna
ask how old the fish are.

All right. Everything's old.

Ralphie, Ralph. Come
here. Come here. Sit down.

Sit up, sit up, sit up.

Put your hands in your laps. Okay.

Shh, shh, shh.

Don't say a word.

Don't open your little mouths.

Just--just remain calm.

We have nothing to hide anyway.

Oh, smooth, Mom. He'll never suspect a thing.

Mr. Winchell, what a pleasant surprise.

New rug, how much?

That floor lamp isn't on last year's list.

How much?

I presume the nylon
stockings are new. How much?

End table made out of a hollowed-out foot

of an elephant. How much?

The elephant foot's table.

My mother had to think fast now.

Well, you see, the elephant died

when the circus came through last year

and they were going to
throw the foot out anyway.

And my husband, he's very handy at... Uh-huh!

A new refrigerator!

Oh, oh, new when Washington
crossed the Delaware.

No, we got that at the Salvation Army.

It burns out all the time
and makes a funny noise.

Uh-huh!

This is the first time in months

that it's stopped making that noise.

Sounds pretty good to me.

We can't even sleep when it's going.

It's not worth the $4 we paid for it.

What a gyp. Hmm.

Fresh liverwurst. Twelve cents a pound.

You're taxing our liverwurst?

What about you, sonny?

Were you with your mom
when she bought this refrigerator

down at Higbee's department store?

We got the refrigerator
at the Salvation Army.

I remember we bought
two pencils at Higbee's once.

Who did this guy think he was messing with?

I was assessor-proofed years ago.

What a rookie. Uh-huh.

And what about you, little boy?

I'm sorry, sir. He doesn't speak any English.

Well, not with your hand
stuffed in his mouth, he doesn't.

And what happened to the serial number?

All the vibrations wore it off.

Uh-huh.

And he was off.

Room by room, closet after
closet, all over the house they went,

my mother keeping up a running counterpoint.

He even checked the chimney
for a secret compartment.

Hey, this guy was better than I thought.

Do you mind?

How old are these fish?

Uh-huh.

Little red wagon not new, either, l guess.

No, sorry. Got it last Christmas.

What do you got, Dad?

Ammunition. You know what this is?

No, what? The blueprint
from the Bumpus house.

Here, let me show you.

This is the whole ball of wax.

There could be secret entrances.

Ah! I think that could be one right there.

That could be one right there.

This'll be my ultimate weapon.

They'll never know what hit them!

Dad, can I talk to you for a minute?

Yeah, sure. Fire away.

There's this kid who always
beats everybody at everything.

You know marbles,
slingshots, stuff like that.

Yeah, yeah.

Well, now it's tops.

You know, spinning tops you fight with?

Oh, don't get me started on fighting tops.

I had a killer in my day.

They had tops way back when you were a kid?

Well, yeah, we made them out of mud then.

We didn't have steel and wood and
stuff like that all the way back then.

Huh?

Ah, never mind, so w-w-what's the problem?

I really want to beat this guy.

But he's got a killer top, and...

And you want to find a way to
get the greatest top ever made?

I looked all over town.

Let me see. Maybe I can make one for you.

That's pretty tricky. You know what? What?

The Exposition! The World's Exposition.

Coming to Chicago at the end of summer.

They have stuff from all over the world.

Tops, too? Oh, yeah.

They got tops from Russia, from
Japan, from Fiji, from Timbuktu.

Gypsy tops. You name it. That's the ticket.

Get yourself a gypsy top.

Where you going?

It's dish night.

What are you gonna get, another gravy boat?

What do you got, four already?

Three.

Oh, you may jest, but for your information

tonight we have Mr. Doppler's
personal guarantee.

We are receiving a Fay Bainter aspic tureen.

Aspic tureen.

I'll be in the war room.

♪ Come away with me, Lucile ♪

You guessed it.

Another mix-up in the shipments.

And now the housewives all had
four Ronald Colman gravy boats.

Let's hear the sopranos!

Talk about a tough audience.

Okay.

I pronounce you man and wife.

Come on, come on, go to it.

Hold tight, there's a quick one there...

As the summer wore on

the Old Man was spending
most of his spare time

in the war room, working
on his secret project.

At Cedar Lake, after six crappie-less weeks

people began, at last, to
abandon the deep hole theory.

One guy would move off to another area.

At the first hint of a bite, all
17,000 boats would dash over.

Every once in a while, a
Bumpus on his way to the outhouse

would forget about the back porch.

♪

♪ Mairzy doats and dozy
doats and liddle lamzy divey ♪

♪ A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you? ♪

♪ Yes! Mairzy doats and dozy
doats and liddle lamzy divey ♪

♪ A kiddley divey... ♪

So, what do you think of the Cubs?

Seventh place?

I don't know. Maybe.

♪ ... to your ear, a little bit... ♪

Vacation was drawing to a close,

and my frustration with Lug
and Mariah was boundless.

But tomorrow was the
opening of the World Exposition,

so, all in all, the summer
was rolling along okay.

What's that? Come on! Hey!

Then something strange happened.

What does it say?

It was Junior Kissel's house.

And there was this big sign.

What's an auction? Auction?

Our old instincts, deep and
animal-like, told us that it was serious.

Now, later that night,

the Kissels came over and
we were sent to bed early.

Downstairs, there was a
lot of quiet talk and crying.

I lay there, unable to sleep,

torn between the rising
anticipation of the Exposition

and the vague unsettling atmosphere
surrounding the Kissel house.

All right, sir.

And that's item 38.

Old furniture in the light of a bright sky

seems more tired and worn
than anything else I know.

In an eerie way, more human, too.

No one wanted the mattress that had
come down from Mrs. Kissel's parents

and had seen the raising of 10 kids.

Ladies and gentlemen,

genuine World War I doughboy helmet.

75. Ought to bring something
like 75 cents, at least.

75 cents for this doughboy helmet.

Can I get 75?

75 cents, who will bid 75 cents?

Mrs. Kissel watched as Grandpa
Kissel's helmet went for a quarter.

Only strangers from other
parts of town were bidding.

All the Kissels' neighbors just watched.

I sure hope they find Junior.

Kissel was one of my best pals.

He played on the same ball team with me.

He'd been missing all morning.

Now, I knew where Junior was.

He was hiding in the attic.

I didn't say anything.

Even Randy had the good sense
not to fuss about the Exposition.

Later, someone said the Kissels
had gone to stay with relatives.

The next week a "For Rent" sign appeared

on the Kissels' front lawn.

Not long after, a new family moved in.

I never saw Junior Kissel again.

Now, I knew what an auction was.

We were all very quiet
on the ride to the fair.

But that's the way things were then.

And they still are, for that matter.

Ah! The World Exposition.

A place where they had
everything a kid ever wanted to see.

But we were still two long blocks away.

Just as we were about to start moving,

the Buick in front of
us died a horrible death.

The Old Man was having the
time of his life being miserable.

It was what he did best.

Sleeping Jesus!

Are you gonna park that wreck or drive it?

After 40 steaming minutes,
we rounded a corner

and there it was in all its glory.

Oh, another five-minute wait.

The Old Man tried to sneak by.

Hold it!

Son of a bitch!

What was that, buddy?

The Old Man turned on his "innocent" voice.

I'm sorry, Officer?

Did I hear you calling me a "son of a bitch"?

I beg your pardon, sir?

He suddenly became hard of hearing, too.

Did you call me a son of a bitch?

Oh, heavens, no. Mercy me, Officer.

Good gracious, no.

You just watch your lip, buddy.

Oh, bless my buttons, sir.

I, I certainly will.

T-that is excellent advice, Officer.

I--I--I certainly appreciate that--that...

Heavens to Betsy, I certainly will.

Thank you very much, Officer.

The Old Man was certainly sincere.

Son of a bitch.

We were long gone.

The Old Man was a master.

Why don't we go to the World
Fun Center and ride the rides?

These look good. The Singapore
Sling, the Banzai, the Watusi Whip.

I wanna go on the rides!
I wanna go on the rides!

You'll just get sick again.

I wanna get sick! I wanna get sick!

I wanna get sick!

What about you, Ralph?

Oh, I know what you want.

"The International Bazaar."

"All the treasures on earth in two acres."

What does he want?

Never mind, woman, this
is man's business. Here.

Take a buck. Now, you gotta haggle.

They expect you to haggle.

What is all this about?

Never mind. Now, look for a
shop where the women go like this.

And that'll be your spot. What?

Don't worry about it.

Now I'm gonna go check
out "The Cars of the Cosmos."

Synchronize your watch.

We'll all meet back here in two hours.

I was seeing things I had
never seen before. Oh, boy!

It was definitely, for example,

my first glimpse of the
wrong side of a camel.

Now there's a sight.

Oh, this is so wonderful.

I wanna go on the rides!
I wanna go on the rides!

Ralphie, I...

Don't you dare leave the
bazaar area, do you understand?

We'll be gone for about an hour.

Do not leave this area.

All right.

All right.

And don't buy anything nasty. Do you hear me?

I'm not gonna.

At last, I was alone. Where to start?

Psst, psst!

Psst, psst!

Over here, sonny.

You're looking for a very special top, yes?

You got tops?

Tops? Yes!

We got tops! Come in, come in.

Stay right here, sonny.

I wouldn't sell this top
to just anybody, sonny.

I can tell you really need a top, sonny.

A vague hint of rare incense struck me.

I didn't recognize a
single object in the place.

This had to be it.

There you are.

Great Scott! Cradled in her talons

lay a malevolent duplicate of Evil Mariah.

This is what you need.

A gypsy top!

I swear, a heavenly chord
echoed through the tent.

It's a gypsy top. And just $1.

Okay, pal.

You went through a lot
of trouble here, mister.

Yeah.

Must be a good kid.

Yeah, he's okay.

Are you reading under the blanket again?

Turn that flashlight off and go to bed

and put the top away.

And off l drifted, ablaze with imagined glory

and filled with reckless
courage, as I looked forward

to sunrise and the showdown
between Mariah and Wolf,

as I had dubbed her.

♪

We're gonna play keepers.

Right.

Keepers meant that one
kid would own both tops.

If his top could drive the other top

out of the chalk circle, he owned it.

It was Wolf against Mariah.

A battle of titans. A shoot-out.

First one with five kills
wins the other guy's top.

You're on.

I sensed a great life
lesson was in the offing.

What was the lesson?

"Kill or be killed"?

"To the victor belongs the spoils"? What?

What lesson?

Only one man would walk away.

It was do or die.

Do or die!

Dog eat dog. May the best man win.

Teach me, life, teach me.

Suddenly, it was as if
they had wills of their own.

We were no longer in control.

They were.

And it was a battle to the death.

Only one top would walk away.

If tops could walk, that is.

But, then, with a headlong rush,

they headed out of the circle.

Only they didn't stop.

They toppled over the curb into the gutter.

Clicking, snarling, crazily out of control.

We saw them down in the drain.

Mariah turning and lunging at Wolf.

Wolf pursuing Mariah.

Fierce. Relentless. Savage.

We could hear them below in the sewer

for a long time still locked
in a death's embrace.

And then, just like that it was over.

They were gone. Forever.

A tie. A lousy tie.

Good try, Ralph. Good try, Ralph.

Good try, Ralph.

This was the lesson life had to teach me.

A lousy tie!

That's a lesson for you. Nobody wins.

Son of a...

Dinner's on the table!

If you want it hot, come now.

Randy, stop picking at that food.

Did you hear what I said? Get up here!

Yes, dear. Yes, dear. Right away, dear.

If I'm gonna go to the trouble to cook,

then the least you can
do is eat it. Yes, dear.

Mmm.

It was dish night.

These days, everyone tiptoed very gently

around my mother on dish night.

I want the dishes done and your
room cleaned when I come home tonight,

or no fishing. Got it?

And if you say one word to
Randy about fishing, I'll kill you.

Okay, sweetie?

A death sentence. Sure, why not?

It didn't matter now.

Tonight's the night, chum.

The ultimate weapon is on the line.

Just us and the Bumpuses.

Eyeball to eyeball.

What's the difference? It'll just be a tie.

There's worse things than a tie, kiddo.

I had met my Waterloo

and now my parents were
marching off to meet theirs.

By daybreak, the Parker house

would be a festering pit of despair.

Futile, Randy. Utterly futile.

Yep.

Ladies, we have at long last

resolved our delivery difficulties.

And next week we'll be proud to
present the Bela Lugosi finger bowl.

A-and the week after that,

the Tallulah Bankhead buffet decanter.

Our shipping problems
will have come to an end.

I promise.

Psst.

Fred. Don't put the light on me.

Don't put the light on me.

Fred, don't put the light on me.

Fred, you mongrel son of a...

Ladies, ladies, good news, good news.

I've talked to the manufacturers.

And they're on the trucks
now, wending their way here.

Your Sonny Tufts big boy platters.

One unknown housewife

began to cackle insanely.

Driven bonkers by the
endless flood of gravy boats.

Fear flashed in Doppler's eyes.

Hallelujah, hallelujah.

We have our usual rib-tickling cartoon...

The cackle got louder.

It was joined by a barely audible hissing.

...a newsreel,

and, oh, joy, a short subject,

the imports and exports of Kuala Lumpur.

Ladies! I'm very displeased.

The hissing swelled like
the sound of cold venom

landing on boiling lava.

Now, I'm getting very cross with you.

And then it happened.

A dark shadow sliced through
the hot beam of the spotlight.

What was it?

Bull's eye.

My mother had hit Doppler with a gravy boat.

What a great idea!

The ladies were struck dumb
by the sheer audacity of it.

Then they were thunderstruck
by the sheer rightness of it.

Of course Leopold Doppler
should be struck with a gravy boat.

In fact, he should be struck

with as many gravy
boats as they could muster.

And so they did.

As one, the people rose up
and smote Leopold Doppler

with gravy boats.

Whoa!

Thus the great days of Leopold
Doppler passed into history.

Top of the world, Ma! Top of the world!

Rosebud!

So, my Mom became the first in our family

to spend time in the pokey.

It was the greatest adventure of her life.

I learned a great lesson
from my Mom's adventure.

Sometimes, even if it means
a few Leopold Dopplers

have to bite the dust,

you just have to stand up for yourself.

Thank you.

All right.

All right, downstairs in two minutes.

Hell's a-popping.

You up?

I'm up.

You know, the Old Man
was a keen psychologist.

What better way to snap a kid out of it

than to let him help his father?

Anyway, the gloom had lifted somewhat.

And there was still fishing
and little brothers to torment.

Okay, Greasepit, here we go.

Precision. Planning. Brain power.

The key to success.

Understand? Yeah.

Barkley. Reconnoiter.

Now, you know what this is?

What?

This is a sound effects record from Higbee's.

These are the moments that
make life worth living, Shortcut.

Okay, Commando, you take this record upstairs

and put it on the Victrola.

Really?

Yes. Go, Trooper.

Another record?

Blasting the Bumpuses with sound effects?

This was the best the Old
Man... Waterloo, Bumpus.

...could come up with? After all that talk

about ultimate weapons and war rooms?

But I thought it was great.

Just me and the Old Man. Against the world.

Die, Bumpuses. Die.

Bumpuses, this is the
Internal Revenue Service

and the Bureau of Alcohol,
Tobacco and Firearms.

You are surrounded.

Do not attempt to escape.

Do not attempt to remove
any illegal distilleries.

Do not attempt to remove...

Unbelievable.

...any outhouses that are not up to code.

Do not attempt anything of
a strange or unusual nature.

Oh, Randy. Oh, my God.

...this is J. Edgar Hoover.

Come out with your hands in the air

and you won't get hurt!

Parker, you lunatic!

What the hell are you doing?

Ralphie, you are gonna get it!

What did I do?

Don't give me that. You
tied Randy's feet together.

Well, he put his turtle in my oatmeal.

Oh, good grief.

Where do you think you're going?

Bumpus, this is J. Edgar Hoover. Junior.

Remember this, Bumpus,
the next time you're thinking

of playing Gene Autry at midnight.

And there's plenty more where that came from.

Parker, you numbskull!

The Bumpuses moved out today!

What?

Lock, stock and barrel.

Yeah! Look for yourself, jerk!

Barkley!

He sent Barkley over to check it
out, but the neighbors were right.

The Bumpuses were gone.

That's what the Bumpuses
did. Move into a neighborhood,

run up a bunch of bills,
and then beat it out of town.

Once again the joke was on the Old Man.

Of course, he thought they
did it just to frustrate him.

They pulled out just as I was
about to hand them my crusher.

They did it on purpose.

I say we get the Bumpuses
back and get rid of Parker.

Yeah!

Uh-oh.

It was the real cops.

He cooked up another scheme.

It was a beauty.

Play dead. What?

Play dead. Just play
dead. What are you doing?

Are you out of your mind? Come back here!

Sick child! Can't talk! Can't talk!

Oh, no! It was the cop
from the World Exposition.

Sick child! Coming through! Can't talk!

Can't talk!

What happened next was
one of his greatest moments.

Son of a bitch!

Truly a master.

The Old Man had stopped
at the good old Bluebird

and spent 10 minutes or so
on the phone with my mom.

And, somehow, he got out of it.

And ten minutes later we were on the lake,

but, you know, our hearts weren't in it.

The Old Man and I were still
brooding about our respective ties,

because that's what you'd have to call

the Bumpus confrontation. A tie.

That's what life is, a tie. A lousy tie.

You know, I was thinking.

You were thinking?

You were thinking? Whoa, boy.

The Old Man always did that.
Pretend an earthquake was happening

when somebody said they were thinking.

Only nobody ever got the joke.

They thought the Old Man had palsy

or epilepsy or something like that.

This had been going on for 30 years.

About those television waves.

You know, that could happen.

I remember, when we first got radio

up at the cabin, all hell broke loose.

Raccoons being born with fox's heads.

Deer giving birth to squirrel.

They said up on the peninsula,

a lady dropped a litter of toad frogs.

That's absolutely true.

There's gonna be crappie
brains all over Indiana.

That's a scientific fact.

Hey, you rocket scientists
want to shut up and fish?

Ordinarily, that would have
started a 10-minute row.

But the Old Man just said...

Ah, hold your water.

A cool, fresh breeze had escaped somehow

from the Canadian glaciers

and swept across Cedar Lake.

Maybe that was the reason
for what happened next.

Aw, I got some action here.

That's it.

Ah, take it, fishie.

For crying out... For crying out loud!

And that started it. The
dreaded cane-pole gridlock.

Once started, these gridlocks could
stretch to boats half a mile away.

They spread like a mysterious bacillus.

Some of these monster tangles
have been known to last three days.

Don't you guys know how to fish?

And then it happened.

I got a bite!

Dad, I got a bite!

Bite! Who, who's got a bite?

Bite?

Who's got a bite?

Dad, I got one.

♪ Hallelujah ♪

♪ Hallelujah ♪

A real speckled beauty!

A speckled beauty! Look at that! God!

Get the fish. What do I do?

Get ahold of his head...

The Old Man is going berserk
trying to get his pole untangled.

There's another one, Dad!

Holy smokes! I have never
heard... How about this?

Anchors are being hauled up everywhere.

And boats are being sucked to our spot

like matter into a black hole.

This is the best ever. Another one!

A phalanx of boats are crushing
against us but they are getting skunked.

What's the matter, Parker?

Hey-hey!

You've never seen anything like it.

Crappies are jumping into the boat.

We are catching all the fish.

This is the best ever.

There's another one.

Another one, Dad.

This is the best! This is the best!

You guys are all getting skunked. Wow.

And there's another one!

There's another one.

I don't remember my Old Man
ever once in actual words saying,

"You did a good job, kid."

But one way or another he
always found a way to say,

"You did a good job, kid."

Hey, everyone, back off here!

We got a fisherman working here!

Get out of here! Get out of here!

At last, a win.

Fishermen, 47. Crappies, zilch.

Get out of here! Hey,
back out of here! Back up...

This here's a professional
fisherman working...

♪ ...bottles of beer on the wall ♪

The file clerks were in full song,

celebrating their victory over the elements.

♪ And if one of those
bottles should happen to fall ♪

♪ 99 bottles of beer on the wall ♪

And they hadn't even been drinking.

That's it! I'm never going back.

That lake's dead!

No luck?

I'm through for the summer.

No more fishing for me.

I'm going back to gardening.

What? Not, not even a little bite?

Ah, he caught a couple of minnows.

Did you? Yeah, should've thrown them back,

but since you brought them
home, show them to your mother!

Ralphie, so many! Look at the size of them.

I wanna fish! I wanna fish! I wanna fish!

Ralphie, you didn't drag those
across the living room rug, did you?

Oh, my God.

All right, Toggle Switch, you go out
on the back porch and clean those fish.

I wanna fish! I wanna fish!

All right.

All right, you are gonna fish.

You are gonna fish.

He's gonna fish? Yes.

Now, when you put the bait in,

the bobber sits on top
of the water like this.

And when the bobber goes
under, you pull them up. Got it?

Oh, brother.

It's just some bacon tied up with string.

You should have seen the kid.

He was hauling them in left and right.

I have thrown up three times already.

Fish that are taken out of
muddy, rotten, lousy, stinking lakes

have muddy, rotten, lousy, stinking guts.

It's as simple as that!

Then the Old Man brought out
a two-pound liverwurst sandwich.

Oh, oh, oh, boy.

I got one. I got one!

He got one? Impossible!

I got one. I got one.

But he did!

I got one. I got one. I got one.

Oh, look at that. Look at
that. He caught Geppetto.

He got the bait right through his gills.

Poor Geppetto.

I wanna eat him!

Randy!

Randy, you can't eat Geppetto.

I wanna eat him.

You cannot eat Geppetto.

Your Mom is right, pal.

I said, I wanna eat him.

All right. Man gets to eat what he catches.

Rule of the jungle.

All right, take this in the
kitchen and clean it for him.

Come on, Randy.

I'm gonna eat him. I'm gonna
eat him. Go ahead. Go ahead.

He's gonna be a great fisherman.

The kid's a cannibal.

Good boy! Hey! Hey, that's a good boy!

Good Barkley! Good Barkley!

Give me a "B". B!

Oh, the Parker day of triumph was complete.

Little Barkley came through.

Give me a "Y". Y.

Barkley!

Barkley!

My mother fried up the whole batch.

Of course, I had to filet a
tail of one of the crappies

and pretend that it was Geppetto.

I ate him.

Well, anyway, there was
this Hungarian bartender

who had a cross-eyed daughter. Now...

Oh, no, you don't. No, you don't.

Come on, Ralphie, you're going up to bed.

Yes, you are. Come on, Randy! No. No, no, no.

He's a man. He knows what
it's all about, don't you, Ralph?

I didn't know what it was,
much less what it was all about.

I don't think he knows
quite what it's all about.

Come to think of it, I still don't.

Out, woman! Out! Out with you.

Out, out, out.

And the Old Man came through one more time.

This is men's stuff, woman. Stop it!

That lad went out a boy
and he's come back a man.

He's one of us now. You can't have him.

All right. I'm going. I'm going.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Women.

You can't live with them
and you can't live with them!

That's telling her,
Parker. That's telling her.

All right, Gertz! Let her rip!

Okay. So this Hungarian...
Did I say Hungarian?

It's a Romanian bartender
with a cross-eyed daughter.

Wait a minute, a Romanian
bartender with a cross-eyed daughter?

I've heard that one!

Did I ever tell you the one
about the monkey that ate the...

But they reeled off one
rotten story after another,

I swear, not one word of which I understood.

...you know, 'cause the second
one's coming, and he was going...

But every time they laughed, I laughed.

This went on for an hour.

Guy goes, guy goes
to a jungle for vacation...

Yeah, they, they called him,
they called him zoo breath.

Zoo breath.

That's bad taste.

Suddenly, and for the first time,

I realize that I am in.

The Eskimo Pies and Nehi
Oranges are all behind me

and a whole new world
is stretching out endlessly

and wildly in all directions. I am a man.

Then Zudoc told one so rank
my mother's ears started to sizzle

and the icebox started to hum.

You people are sick.

He said he was in the
closet all the time! No.

And 90 seconds later, I'm in bed.

Somewhere, off in the dark,

the Monon Louisville Limited wails

as it snakes over the Gibson hump

on its way to the outside world.

The cats are still fighting
over the crappie heads

and fish scales are itching in my hair.

The giant Indiana moths,

five pounds apiece, are
banging on the screen.

I slide off to the great beyond,

secure in the knowledge
that life is not always a tie.

It was the greatest summer of my life.

---oOo---