Original subtitles

(whistling)

- Hi there!

- Sir, the only way that you could ever have a high IQ

is to go up in a blimp.

- O'Hara, you're hardly in a position

to appraise an intelligent person.

You see, it takes one to know one.

- Well, since it takes one to know one, Brennan,

you should be much better at spotting thieves.

You've been stealing

the police department's money for years.

- Yeah, Uncle Martin.

- Yes, Tim.

- I know you enjoy playing verbal ping pong with Brennan,

but don't you think that that last backhand

was sort of a nasty crack?

- The only nasty crack about Mr. Brennan

is his big mouth.

- Hey Uncle Martin, I'm a little worried about you.

I mean, the way you've been acting,

you haven't been yourself lately.

- Now you're being ridiculous.

We both know there's only one person on Earth

who could be like me, and that's me.

Now let's drop the subject,

there is nothing different about me.

- Uncle Martin, the chair.

- Just have to get my thoughts on something else

besides that Brennan.

- Uncle Martin, the table turned.

- Not quite, but I'll turn the tables on that Brennan yet,

or my name isn't--

- Gold.

- Gold.

What in heaven's name are you talking about?

You know what my name is.

My name isn't Gold.

- The table and the chair.

Uncle Martin, they both changed into gold.

- Gold?

Good grief, Tim, I'm not well.

- I don't think I am either.

- Careful, careful, Tim, don't get too close to me.

Your sterling character could become 14 carat.

- You mean to tell me

that everything you touch

is gonna change into gold?

- Well, let's hope not everything.

(sneezes)

- Oh, here.

Here you go.

Well, I've heard of blowing a fortune,

but that's ridiculous.

(beeping)

(fast beeping)

(wacky music)

I know it's crazy.

I mean, I've heard the fable

about King Midas and the Midas touch, but--

- Fable?

My naive, young friend,

if you could research the subject properly,

you would find that King Midas

is merely a corruption of King Martis,

the Latin name for--

- Martis?

You mean--

- My first case of gold starvation.

As you Earthlings require iron in your diet,

we Martians need gold.

There's been none in my diet since I left Mars.

- But I just don't get it.

I mean, if you need gold,

how come you're turning everything into it?

Or are you gonna eat the table?

- Well, to compensate for the lack of it in my system,

my body is manufacturing its own.

Unfortunately, inedible.

But as long as I have a gold deficiency,

everything my hands touch will be turned to gold.

- Do you realize that just a few minutes ago

this was nothing more than a fugitive

from a secondhand store.

And now...

Well, I just can't get over it.

- Me either, until I find the cure.

Until then, we've got to keep me away

from everything and everybody,

specially that flatfoot with head to mat.

- Goodnight, Martin.

- Goodnight, Tim.

- Sleep carefully.

- Yoo-hoo!

- Good morning, Lorelei.

- Oh, Bill, I'm so happy you could make it today.

I've got something special planned.

I've been preparing that delicious barbecue sauce

you love so much.

- Good!

- And I want you and Martin--

- No good.

- Now, Bill, I know what happened last night,

but I insist that you make up.

It'll show Martin what a big person you are.

Now take my word,

when you shake his hand,

he'll see what you're really made of.

- Sodium, calcium, phosphorous.

But not an ounce of gold in any of your earthly food.

- Hey, you know,

now that you've mentioned it,

I wonder what gold is selling for now by the ounce.

- Somewhere on this backward planet,

there must be a food containing gold.

- Well, if there is, I couldn't help you.

Unless, how about a goldenrod salad?

- Not goldenrod,

but there is a place where they have gold bricks.

- In the Army.

- A little spot in Kentucky called Fort Knox.

You mentioned salad.

Ah, now what I need is a diet of greens

that has been grown in a golden-rich soil.

- Well, the only thing that grows in vaults is interest.

- In the vault, yes.

But gold dust settles on those vault floors

and when they scrub those floors,

the water carries gold salts out through the drains

and into the soil outside.

Now there must be some kind of a creek or stream

with plants growing.

What I need is a salad made of those plants.

- Oh, I get it,

sort of a mixed greens salad where the green is negotiable.

- But I don't dare leave the house.

I can't even touch a plane ticket.

- Yeah, well, I don't know what to tell you.

I mean, I'd be glad to fly down for you,

but I'm afraid I wouldn't be of any use at all.

You see, all streams look alike to me.

- Yes.

We'll have to locate the one that flows past the vault.

Fort Knox, Fort Knox,

Fort Knox, Fort Knox,

Fort Knox.

There it is,

a stream right beyond the southeast corner.

- A floor plan of Fort Knox?

Don't tell me you're the man who designed it.

- No, his teacher.

Not a bad job of switching my original plan.

Look it over carefully.

- Oh no, not me.

Listen, I might talk in my sleep.

You said the southeast corner?

The southeast corner is fine for me!

As far as I'm concerned,

I want this hunk of evidence gone.

Southeast corner, south--

Whoops.

Southeast corner.

- You mean you won't?

- I'm sorry, Lorelei,

but my mother told me to associate

only with my equals and better.

- Oh, Bill.

- Hey.

- Oh, it's just a piece of burnt paper, silly.

- Oh.

N-O-X?

Oh yeah, this should give you some idea of his incompetence,

burning papers in his fireplace.

- Well, maybe he was out of firewood.

- He should've used his head.

And I mean that two ways.

- Oh, you're just impossible, you--

You, you, man, you.

- Oh, Lorelei, try to understand.

- All I understand is I am ashamed of you, Bill Brennan.

I have nothing more to say.

You just leave me speechless.

- But, Lorelei.

- Except that you're being pigheaded and petty,

and letting your ridiculous masculine pride

get in the way of my happiness,

because I certainly couldn't be happy.

Nobody could, when their two most favorite friends

are so antagonistic to each other

that they won't even make an effort

to let bygones be bygones even for me

and I'm just--

Well, I'm just speechless.

- I didn't want to--

I apologize for what I did.

I hope I didn't make you unhappy.

- Oh, Bill, you make me so proud.

I'll go call the boys to come down

and we'll all have dinner together

and I know you'll both be as good as gold.

- If I leave at 8:30,

I'll arrive there at 12:30.

Now, it'll just give me time if I have two hours to--

(phone ringing)

Hello.

Oh hi, Mrs. Brown.

Oh sure, just a second.

- Tim.

- Hmm?

Oh, I forgot.

- I almost turned every telephone in the world into gold.

- Well, that would've made the phone company pretty happy.

- Oh, hello.

Oh, hello, Mrs. Brown.

Dinner?

Well, that's very generous of you,

but truthfully, I don't think that--

I don't think it would be possible.

- But Martin, I've been working all morning

basting my ribs.

The last time I made them,

you and Tim said you liked them.

Wonderful.

Then you'll come?

- Oh, we would,

only Tim has to leave town.

We were planning on just grabbing a bite

so he could catch his plane.

You understand?

- I certainly do,

you just don't like my ribs.

- Of course we do.

In fact, I can't think of anyone whose ribs I admire more.

- Good, dinner will be at six.

- I'm sure it'll be very cozy with just the three of us.

Brennan?

What, hello?

Hello, Mrs. Brown?

Mrs. Brown?

She hung up.

- Oh, boy.

Well, that's gonna be a marvelous dinner

with old eagle eye Brennan there.

Listen, you can't get over the gold standard

long enough to pick up a napkin.

- For an intelligent man,

sometimes I can be pretty dumb.

- Oh, that must be them.

- Unfortunately.

- Oh, there you are.

Oh, I'm so glad you could come.

And now, before we sit down,

I insist that you two silly boys shake hands

and make up.

- Mrs. Brown, I knew you'd want us to shake hands

and even though I'd enjoy nothing more

than shaking hands with Lieutenant Brennan,

as you can see, a sprain.

- From reaching around to pat yourself

on the back, no doubt.

- Now, now, now, now, we'll have no more of this.

And Tim and I will see to it that you two behave.

Won't we, Tim?

- Well, I'm perfectly willing to give it a try.

Of course, I've never refereed at a dinner before.

Uncle Martin, uh...

We'll be sitting over here?

- Yes.

Oh, thank you, Bill.

- Thank you, Tim.

- Mm-hm.

- Now, you boys just help yourselves.

(clears throat)

Oh, well, except poor Martin.

Lorelei will help you with your ribs.

- Thank you, Mrs. Brown.

- Mm, delicious, Lorelei.

- Mm-hmm, they're sensational.

Uncle Martin, what are you gonna do?

You can't just leave them on top of your plate like that.

- I don't intend to.

- Oh!

- Allow me.

- Uncle Martin, the window.

- [Bill] There.

- Mrs. Brown, that meal was absolutely delicious.

And I don't mean to be rude,

but as the saying goes, eat and run.

I'm afraid I have to catch an 8:30 flight.

- Oh, and if you will excuse me,

I'm afraid I have to leave too.

- Yes, Uncle Martin has to give me a hand.

- Thank you, Tim.

- Well, I'm so glad you could come.

I'm awfully sorry you have to leave us so soon.

- It was marvelous, Mrs. Brown, thank you.

Thanks.

- Goodnight, thank you very much.

- Goodbye.

- Yes, goodnight.

- I must say, I'm very flattered you all enjoyed my dinner,

especially Martin, even with his injured hand.

Did you see the way he cleaned his plate?

- Well.

He sure did.

- Like a good boy.

- Like a Tasmanian wolfhound.

- Now, Bill.

- Lorelei, look.

Who eats spareribs bones and all?

- Well, he must've been starved.

You know, those boys don't eat properly up there.

- Unless he dropped them under the--

- What is it?

- Looks like gold, feels like gold,

tastes like gold.

- Oh, isn't that interesting.

- I'd say downright peculiar.

What's O'Hara doing with a chunk of gold?

- Oh dear, eating all those bones,

I'll bet he lost a filling.

- This size?

He'd have to have teeth like a hippopotamus.

You know, possession of gold bullion is illegal

in the United States these days.

I think I'm onto something bigger than O'Hara's molars.

Oh Lorelei, that's not true.

You know I never jump to conclusions.

I'm not that kind of detective.

But if the only place that's authorized

to have gold in this form is Fort Knox...

K-N-O-X.

N-O-X?

- Now, Bill, I think you're--

What is it?

- It's a floor plan.

Part of a floor plan.

A building with very thick walls,

something N-O-X.

May I use your phone?

Line of duty.

- Oh gracious.

- Airport information, please.

Information.

How many planes do you have departing tonight at 8:30?

Yes, where is it bound?

Wichita, St. Louis.

Did you say Fort Knox?

Aha!

- [Lorelei] Good morning, Bill.

- Brennan?

8:30 in the morning.

He's onto something.

- Yes, Lorelei, I think you'll be needing a sign.

Quote, "three room, garage, apartment for rent," unquote.

- Will they be moving?

- Shh!

I should say very, very soon.

Young O'Hara turned up last night in Fort Knox.

May I use this ladder?

- Yes.

You're not thinking of putting up the rent sign with that?

- Oh, no.

But I think it may help me to get O'Hara a long lease in,

shall we say, a federal housing project.

(screaming)

- Happy landing.

Now, what to do, what to do?

- Oh, dear.

Bill, Bill, are you alright?

Bill?

- Lorelei?

Lorelei, that's how they're smuggling it out of the country.

As furniture, solid gold furniture.

- Oh dear, he must've had a nasty blow on the head.

Oh, yes, yes, there's a bump.

- It's even bigger than I dreamed.

- Yeah, well, don't worry about it,

I'll put some ice on it.

- Open up, open up!

Open up in the name of the law.

- I'd ask you in, Brennan, but you seem to be in already.

- I've got you this time, O'Hara.

I'm gonna confiscate every piece of...

Where is it?

- Where is what?

- The solid gold furniture that was right there.

And you can't deny it,

I've already seen it.

- Then I suggest you see something else,

like a good optometrist.

- I don't know where you've hidden it,

but I'm going to find it.

- Ah, you do have a search warrant.

- You might as well cooperate, O'Hara.

That accomplice of yours, Tim O'Hara,

has already been arrested at Fort Knox.

- Somebody mention my name?

- Have a nice trip, Tim?

- Yeah.

- How did you get here?

I teletyped Fort Knox to have you picked up.

- Oh, come on, Detective Brennan,

they can't arrest you for picking grass,

except for in front of a public library.

(laughter)

- Pardon me,

I'm going to check on that.

You haven't seen the last of me.

- What a pity.

- But I saw it.

I did.

- Now the test.

Tim, look, it's immune to my touch.

It contains the minerals I need.

- Uncle Martin, what happened?

What happened to everything?

- Shh!

Tim, never mind.

Never mind, not now.

- The furniture's completely changed.

What ever happened to all the gold?

- Tim, please, not right now, it's alright.

- What do you mean it's alright?

Alright my foot.

Why, this table alone was worth a...

Oh, I get it.

I get it, you just painted it over,

it's still gold.

- Oh, no.

- Oh-ho.

- Bill?

Bill, are you alright?

- Lieutenant Brennan, car 341 calling for assistance.

- Oh dear, that must've been a nasty blow on the head.

- Please, Lorelei, I'm alright.

Car 341 calling for assistance.

- Oh, I didn't know there were assistant policemen.

- [Policeman] Car 341, come in, over.

- This is Lieutenant Brennan, now hear this.

All cars in the vicinity of 21 Elm Street,

close in fast,

and better come in with your sirens screaming.

I want the O'Hara gang to know

that it hasn't a chance of escaping.

Oh yes, and I want one big, rugged moving van.

- Dick Tracy just blew the whistle on us.

We've only got minutes, Tim.

- Oh, it's gonna be more like 30 years.

I'm really sorry I shot off my mouth.

- Unless I can get this contraption to work properly.

- This is no time to install indirect lighting.

- No, no, no, Tim,

this is a makeshift cyclotron.

If I can bombard this room full of synthetic gold

with just enough neutrons,

a chain reaction will result

and everything should return to its original state.

- Oh?

Well, if it's our only chance.

(knocking)

- This is Lieutenant Brennan,

open up in the name of the law.

(knocking)

- I don't know if it can take full power,

but here it goes.

Check, check, check.

- Open up peaceably or I'm coming in forcibly.

- These molecules have to double their vibrations

because it's still not enough.

- If you'll put up your hands.

Martin and Tim O'Hara,

I'm arresting you for the illegal possession of gold,

for attempting to smuggle gold out of the United States,

and for the theft of an unspecified amount of gold bullion

from the depository at Fort Knox, Kentucky.

- I thought you'd say something like that.

- Smart to the end, aren't you?

Well, that's exactly what this is

and that's your transportation coming now.

(siren blaring)

(small blast of sound)

What was that?

What was that?

- I guess we blew a fuse.

- Oh, Bill, your assistant policemen are here.

- [Bill] Captain.

- Brennan, you've got half the police force out there,

so what's your problem?

- If you'll just take this knife, Captain,

and go over there and scrape a bit of paint off that table.

Well?

- You just took the word right out of my mouth.

Well?

- Well, don't you know what that is under that paint?

- That's wood.

- Exactly.

Wood?

What did you do with that furniture?

- Sat on it.

- But it's gold!

It was gold.

- Gold?

So this is what that was all about.

Now you listen to me, Brennan,

I just had a call from Fort Knox

and not one ounce of their gold is missing.

- But it was all here,

I saw it, I felt it.

This was gold, and this was gold, and this was gold,

and this was gold.

I tell you, it was.

- Of course it was.

- I bet you think I'm crazy.

- I'll bet you think you're not.

Come along, Brennan.

- Captain, he did have a nasty blow

on the head a little while ago.

- If I may suggest a checkup

and a nice long rest in the country.

- Come along, Brennan.

Come along, come along.

Sorry to bother you.

- Long rest.

- There goes my 110 foot, twin-screw,

double diesel, ocean-going yacht,

my mansion in Bel-Air,

my own metropolitan daily newspaper.

Oh well, we wouldn't have been able to enjoy it anyway,

even if your gadget didn't work.

- But it didn't.

- What?

What about all the--

- We can thank the lieutenant for that.

An eager beaver Brennan ordered his police sirens

to such a high volume

that they added enough high-frequency vibration to,

shall we say, turn the tables.

(wacky music)