Original subtitles

Hi there, and welcome to tonight's show. Kermit, my cousin, have I got an act

for you.

Oh, that's very nice of you, Leon, but everything's booked for tonight. The

is complete.

Except for one thing.

Fonda, honey, come here.

Boy, this lady has a set of pipes you wouldn't believe.

Uh, Leon, I've got all the singers I need. Digit, roll the opening.

Just show them what you can do, honey. What?

No!

Does it mean I don't get the job?

Good evening and welcome to our show. Woof.

Wait a second, you're not the lion.

No, I'm the dog.

I work with the storyteller.

Oh, yeah.

Later on, the storyteller is going to tell an eerie tale called A Soldier in

Death. Is he cheating?

Well, I am, and I'm still losing.

Me too.

Deal again.

Suddenly. And he did, and he won.

That was eerie.

So listen, where's the lion?

Your frog got him a job in front of the public library.

Well, that's strange.

Kermit, is everything okay?

Don't worry, Jim. Except for a small monitor problem, I got everything under

control. Our guest stars are the nylon, and Fozzie Bear is going to pay a visit

to the Today Show.

That's so cheap.

How did this happen?

Well, I'll show you. Instant replay.

See, here I am doing my introduction, and then Leon shows up with this woman,

and she went...

That'll do it.

The Jim Henson Hour will return after these messages.

Hermit, you're in luck. The chickens and I have worked up a great act. Oh,

Gonzo, I don't really need any more acts. But this is more than an act. This

an opening number.

But I've already got a great opening number. Hey, Digit, kill the nylons.

Thank you.

Bye. Bye.

It'd be a great opening number.

Kermit. Gonzo, the answer is no.

At least let me tell you about this great new chicken act. No! It's the

definitive roller poultry version of the sound of music.

Roller poultry? I'm glad you asked. I didn't ask.

Gonzo, wait a second. Aren't they beautiful?

Chickens.

I can't hear you, Kermit. I'm on roller skates. This is... Just cue the

telethon. All right. All right.

Okay. This is our 78th hour of the Monstathon.

Let's see how we're doing.

over the Pacific coast turning into evening later. And later tonight, the

darkness associated with 3 in the morning over here should give way to

time by early tomorrow.

And the forecast for tomorrow?

3 .15 in St. Louis. In Hollywood, lunch will last all day. And in Ottawa, it'll

be 19 .56.

Thank you and good night.

Do you want to give or do we tie your ears in a bow? I'm sorry, but I don't

the time.

volunteers are doing.

Hello, is this the late Mr. George Hopkins, or can you send us 20 bucks by

tomorrow?

Yes, to save any unnecessary unpleasantness, call us and pledge at 1

-555 -W.

Okay.

Oh, we're working again, Chief. Okay. Boy, those monsters get everywhere.

Hey, that looks like New York City.

Fozzie, how's New York?

Oh, Kermit, hi. Oh, it's great.

Oh, yeah, I've come to the Big Apple to showcase my comic appeal.

Get it? Apple appeal.

Same old Fazi, same old jokes.

Oh, no, no, no, Kermit, you're wrong. I have chosen a new career with real

artistic integrity.

Oh? And what career might that be?

I am going to be a TV weatherman.

A TV weatherman? Yeah. Fazi, are you sure?

Of course, Kermit.

It is time to move on. It's time to leave behind the funny nose and glasses.

Time to say goodbye to the childish whooper cushion. And, of course, the

old banana peel.

Kermit, I am now on my way to NBC headquarters to meet Willard Scott.

Yes, wish me luck.

There's that banana peel. Forget it.

Well, I guess if he can slip up there, he can slip up anywhere.

We'll check with him later.

Hey, Digit, cue the soap opera.

Darling?

Yes, sweetie bum?

I just spoke to Mrs.

Goldfarb. Oh, about my operation.

Hi.

May we come in?

Oh, it's Monster.

Actually, we don't like being called monsters. We prefer the term

challenged. Have you?

given yet.

What? Twenty bucks.

Thirty bucks and we'll give you your kid back.

Wait,

we don't have any kids.

Fifty bucks or we leave him here.

Brother.

Hanzo, are you upset about something?

Well, Kermit put that on the air instead of my chickens.

I can do better than that. Sure.

But Kermit's the guy in charge.

Say, who put Kermit in charge? I don't know.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Nah.

Neither am I.

Okay, Digit, stand by with Fozzie Bear. Digit, wait a second. Excuse me, Kermit.

Just a second, guys. I'll be with you in a minute. Go ahead and cue Fozzie now.

Oh, here it is. The doorway to my future.

He must be right in there, the king of TV weathermen, Willard Scott.

All my behavior must be dignified, yet casual.

Respectful, yet relaxed. Right there.

Hey, it's the funniest face on television.

Except for Gene Shannon, of course.

Fozzie Bear, what can I do for you? Oh, Mr.

Scott, sir, I am here to learn how to be a TV weatherman, just like you. That's

very flattering, Fozzie. Thank you very much. I've got my very own pointy

weather stick here, see? Right. And I also have a toupee.

Right. Yeah, what more could a weather bear need, sir? I don't think you need

much. You're on your way to TV startup. Pretty soon you'll be getting fruitcakes

from your adoring public.

Fruitcake? Yeah, you see, they don't pay me here. I live like a king on the

fruitcake of strangers.

Would you like a piece? Oh, yes, sir.

I got some in here that are real beauties. They're almost like antiques.

Maybe three or four dollars in value.

Wow.

Fonz? Yes? The lights burn out. Could you do me a favor? Yeah? Would you hold

the door?

Oh, sure.

You mean now?

Oh, no.

Do you have the keys?

Sure, Fonz.

I got it right here in my hand.

Don't panic.

I'll go get help. Make it fast, Foz.

Welcome back to today. It's time for the weather with Fozzie Bear.

Help! Help! Help! Is that camera on?

It certainly is.

Ah!

Good morning, America.

Watch your language, Fozzie. Now, what were you saying?

Oh, uh, nothing. Nothing except, uh, I.

I am your new weather bear. See, I got my pointy stick and everything.

That's very professional, but isn't that Willard's job?

No, no.

Funny you should ask.

Willard could not make it. He told me to take over.

Wait a minute.

Where is Willard?

Hi,

I'm your new weather bear.

And holy cow.

Oh, well, I guess as you can plainly see, there's a...

There's all this white stuff over here.

Oh, cute little pennants up here.

There's a giant owl over here by Nebraska.

Now, all you people in Nebraska, you stay in your homes until we can find a

to get the owl out of there.

Yeah, well, now, over here.

Oh, Fozzie.

Fozzie, I'm afraid you're just not cut out to be a weather bear. Oh, no.

But now, hold on. Listen, I found some great stuff in my closet that I think

are going to love. What? Take a look at this. A big nose with glasses.

Oh, yes. Is that correct? Oh, yes. And a slightly used whoopee cushion.

Oh, my old friend. But wait a minute. I saved the best for last, baby.

This is it. A hilarious banana peel.

Now, that's funny.

Waka, waka. Waka, waka. Waka, waka. Waka, waka.

Waka, waka.

Leon, he's never going to go along with this.

Shh. Ready?

Yes. Did you guys want to talk to me about something? No. Yes, we do. Cuz,

anyone ever suggested that a few more people should have a hand in running

show? Well, how do you mean?

Well, letting someone else have a turn.

Well, that's a good idea.

Now, before you reject this out of hand...

What did you say?

I say that's a great idea. I don't know why I've never thought of it myself.

You know, I could use the time away.

Away? But where would you go?

Oh, uh, see that up there? Doesn't that look nice?

Yeah. I tell you what, guys, have fun, keep the ratings up, and don't forget to

roll the credits when you're through.

Okay. Oh, my gosh.

Great. Yeah. Woo -hoo.

Yes. Yes.

Yes. Leon.

Leon. What do we do now?

Oh, this is great. Peace and quiet.

What a beautiful spot.

Isn't this a beautiful spot?

This is a beautiful spot.

Look at that water and that sand and that water.

I wonder how the gang is doing.

People! There is no need to panic.

Now, Leon, you take over Gonzo's responsibilities.

What? Gonzo, you take over my job. I didn't know I had responsibilities.

Yes, and I will take over Mr.

Kermit's. Now, the first thing I think we should do is... Oh, no, you don't.

What? A job like this requires artistic vision. Well, I have that.

As my first decision, chicken on roller skate.

No!

that take me from war room to ballroom.

Wow, Bootsy. With you as president, it'll really be a kinder, swingier

Oh, Brad, be serious for a second. This is the highest office of America.

It's almost more important than being a high fashion model.

But, Boots, what'll I do while you're rushing to meetings with Soviet leaders?

I thought...

Me?

Would I be any good at it? You'd be perfect.

What would I do?

Well, you could stand behind the podium.

Okay, I can do that.

My fellow Americans.

This proves what my grandmother always said. In this country, anyone can become

vital. President.

If you have the right luck.

That's what we need. A president.

Terrific. I pick me.

No, no, no. You have to vote for presidents.

Okay. I vote for me.

I wonder how Kermit's doing.

Hmm.

Chapter one.

Tadpole days.

My earliest memory.

How could I have envisioned...

The long journey ahead.

Maybe I'll just play solitaire.

I wish I had some cards.

Perhaps the handsomest should be enjoyed.

No, brother.

The form of government is irrelevant unless you have a mandate from the

Isn't that a great form of government?

Presenting His Royal Highness Prince...

we decree, let it be story time.

Once upon a time, very long ago, there was

a kingdom that wasn't a kingdom at all. I mean, they had a king, but he wasn't

really... Look, let's start this over.

Okay, okay.

So, once upon a time, very long ago, there was a kingdom without a king.

It had been so many years since anyone cared about having a king that he'd gone

on to something else. Now he worked as a hat sharpener.

Meanwhile, all the people of the kingdom went about their business very much

their own boss until one day a stranger came into the hat sharpening shop.

All done.

Thank you.

Next. I have been told there is a king here that sharpens the hats.

Oh, that's me.

Oh, what are you doing here when there's the king -ing to be done? Oh, we

haven't done that king stuff around here for years.

I've kind of forgotten what it's all about.

Oh, you're nuts.

What? Don't you realize people must be told what to do? You have very well

the responsibility to act king -y.

What? Yes, you know, wear the colorful clothes and put the big thing on the

and make the... What do you call them?

Did you really think I should?

Oh, yeah, yeah. You have a moral responsibility to lead.

Now, sharpen my point a bit. Oh, yes, sir. That night, in the privacy of his

small dungeon apartment with exposed brick walls, the king thought over the

stranger's words. My moral obligation to lead.

What did he say I needed?

And so, the very next day, the king put on some colorful clothing, put a big

thing on his head, and set out to make some proclamation.

of the kingdom decided they liked being told what to do, and the king moved back

into the long, empty palace, and people began to work as slaves and serfs and

peasants, and everyone lived happily ever after.

Until one day, they blew it all up.

Exactly my point. Just like that fairy tale.

Actually, it was more of an allegory.

Hey, how many people think that voting is a dumb idea?

Ponto! Where are you going?

Oh, well, nothing personal, guys, but I miss Kermit.

So long.

Wait for me.

Why aren't you guys running the show?

Oh, well, we left.

Mind if we hang out with you?

Oh, look, you're all here.

We all left.

I skedaddled. It's cuter.

Oh, this is fantastic.

Hey, but how did the show turn out? Did you do a good closing number?

Well, actually, we never got to the closing number.

What? Well, to be honest with you, sir, we couldn't figure out how to run the

show. Oh, running the show is easy. Watch.

Even when I'm weary and I just can't carry on, and the world is like an

debt for me to pay.

Even when the neon seems to shine more than the sun, and the secret place I

in feels so far away.

Still I've got a ticket for a magic holiday, and it's always hooked and

come what may.

Whoa, whoa.

Sweet vacation,

recreation,

destination.

My friends can take me home.

And it's always booked and ready come what may.

Sweet vacation, recreation,

destination home.

Sweet vacation,

recreation,

destination home.

Sweet vacation, recreation,

destination home.

My friends can take me home.

And now John Hurt as the storyteller with The Soldier and Death.

What's in your bag?

I can smell biscuits.

Imagination. Let me see.

Certainly not.

No important things in this bag.

And besides, I need those biscuits for my story.

Well, tell your story. Then we can eat them. Is it an old story?

Ancient. Antique.

Oh, stale biscuits, then. It begins a thousand miles from anywhere

after 20 years of war with a soldier, an honest soul with nothing but a shilling

in his pocket and three dried biscuits for the long trudge home.

This... was his regiment, the Royal Hussars.

Oh, yes, a thousand miles the soldier marched, whistling his tuneless whistle,

and he spent his shilling and was down to the three dry biscuits when one day

comes across an old beggar.

And the soldier stopped and joined in with the beggar's fiddle. The one

fiddle, the other couldn't whistle, and quite happy they both were.

A merry tune.

Is it worth a farthing?

More. No, I can give you nothing.

I do have a biscuit you can have.

Then you're a good man, Father.

And I'll thank you.

Go on, eat.

You're a good man who deserves a better whistle. And off the soldier went and

took up with his tuneless tune, but funny, peculiar and strange indeedy. He

a whistle like... Well, imagine what rubies would sound like if they

And he kept it up all the way down the road until he met another old boy down

his lock and ward at the edges. And this old man, he played one, he played knick

-knack on his drum.

And the soldier stood and whistled his ruby whistle and did a little jig in his

weary boots, a stumble and a hopping.

And then he swaps a second biscuit.

And now look at his dog.

Oh!

Yes, a fine Terpsichore.

Good as new was skipping a hop down the road.

At length he comes to a third old silk, worn to a whisper and playing a game of

cards by the road.

And the soldier looks as the fellow shuffled the pack and dealt out the

one after the other, a perfect hand, and gave him a huge clap.

A splendid game.

Were it a farting?

More, though I have nothing to give you.

Now, the soldier had but a single biscuit in his bag, and he was hungry as

so he thought on it.

But I have a biscuit you can share with me. And the soldier held out his last

dried biscuit and broke it in two.

But it didn't feel good, did it, dearest, to give the old boy less than

others, so he gave him both halves.

You're a good man, and deserve more luck than to be on your last biscuit.

Here, take my cards, your honour, and may they never lose for you.

Take this sack also.

An ugly thing, but remarkable.

Order a bird in, or a beast, or anything you like, and it'll be there in a

twinkle. And off he went, a -skipping a whistle and a light heart and an emptied

sack, and walked a warm night and a bright day, and came to a river.

Peace!

That's a nice whistle.

I got it off a poor soul down on his luck.

Home from the war, are you?

Aye. You've a sack full of spoils.

No.

This is three geese I trapped yesterday.

I want one for me supper.

If you'll cook it for me and give me a bed, you can have the other two for your

trouble. I like a nice bird.

Be sure to bring back the sack.

And the landlord roasted him the goose in clove and honey and brought it back

with a bottle of Beth's wine. And the soldier ate it all and sucked the bones

and drank the wine and danced until the morning when he sank, swam, flopped into

bed.

Three days later, he woke up and looked out of the window and there on the hill

he saw a palace.

Oh, I heard you.

Is that well, soldier?

Not bad, not bad.

Whose palace is that?

Why are the windows all smashed?

That's the Tsar's palace.

It was once a place of waltzes and chandeliers and fabulous parties.

Now the devils have it for their card games.

Devils? Devils.

Every night they tumble in and scream and shout and play at cards.

No decent folk go near, they're so devilish.

It's a nice palace.

So much to deal with, those devils. An army tried.

In the morning, there was nothing left but shadows, and that's the truth.

These are devilish devils. And gamblers, too.

I think I'll take a closer look.

Well, that's folly.

Folly or not, the soldier goes, sack on his shoulder, whistle on his lips, into

the palace.

And inside, it's very quiet.

As if the walls were holding their breath.

And waiting.

A visitor.

A dearest.

And he whistled.

That's a nice whistle. I want to have it.

Hello. Hello!

I hear you like a game of cards. I love a game of cards.

What shall we play for?

He whistled.

His teeth.

I collect teeth.

Fair enough.

And what will you stake?

We've got 40 barrels of gold. Any good?

Very good.

Fetch the coffers.

Good.

Let's play, then.

And with that, they settled down to business.

The soldier dealt the cards.

And won.

Myron, eh?

And won again.

Is he cheating?

Well, I am, and I'm still losing.

Me too.

Deal again.

Certainly. And he did. And he won.

And the devils got into the kind of fume only devils could get in.

Fume, fume, fume.

He won game after game while the devils cheated to high heaven and low hell to

no avail.

By the first bells of morning, the forty barrels of gold were stacked behind the

chair of the soldier who whittled, and he won.

Where are my friends?

I suppose we'd better call it a day.

No, we will not.

We will call it a breakfast and you the meal.

First, make sure who eats who.

What do you call this?

It's a snack.

It's a snack. Shut it in back.

Is it?

Then by the grace of God, get in it.

until you swear to serve me faithfully. I swear, I swear.

I'll hold you to your promise.

Hey,

my foot's cuddled.

That's right.

Now off you go, and remember where you left it.

The devils rushed to hell and slammed shut the doors for fear of being

by the soldier and his sack.

And they trembled and quivered and fumed, fumed, fumed.

But the soldier had no time for devils.

He was the toast of the town and the star of the Tsar.

But howsoever like Miles, Your Honor, the last laugh is reserved for death.

Oh, yes.

Everything is dandy with our friend the good soldier and his magic.

Rewarded by the Tsar, he's a rich gentleman now, a husband and a father,

in the castle.

and couldn't be better.

Until one day, because fate is fickle, one day, because fortune

is cruel, his son falls into a terrible fever.

He's worse.

And they cause for quacks and apothecaries and healers, and soon the

is full with grey beards and shaking of heads.

But still the fever rages.

And the boy passes into a swoon.

And, oh dear, the grey beards are replaced by priests mumbling and

And a man in black comes to measure a coffin.

Oh, what shall we do?

My lips are sore with praying, and my knees are weary of kneeling.

And I've lost my whistle from worrying.

It's the very devil, I say.

The very devil.

That devil's that devil of mine.

I'm here, Your Excellency.

Where have you sprung from?

Not so much sprung as hop, sir. You have my foot.

Cure my son, and you can have it back.

This is my good wife, by the way, and this is my devil.

How do you do?

How do you do?

Yes, I saw your son was ill. Let me have a look at him.

Look in here, Your Excellency.

I see a small creature.

Death, death, Excellency. Where does he stand?

At my son's feet.

Ah, good.

He will recover.

It's when he comes to the head you must worry.

Now, sprinkle some of the water from the glass on your child.

You're a marvel.

Well, we do our best.

Could I have my foot back then? Most certainly.

Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Will there be anything else, sir?

Give me that glass and I'll release you from your promise.

Really? Oh, thank you.

Quite nice black flowers.

And so the soldier set up in his new trade at Miracle Man and travelled the

world on a camel with his magic glass.

Show him a sick man and he would hold up the glass.

If death sat at the foot of the bed, a quick splish -splash and up the invalid

would sit pouring out blessings. If death stood staring at the other end,

soldier would shake his head solemnly and depart and the relatives would

what a pity he came too late and pay him all the same.

But as often as not, he left with all happy and amazed and praising him.

And it went well for the soldier until one day, far from anywhere, he gets a

message from home to say the old guard has fallen ill and sends for him.

I've come too late.

You say beggars and thieves and...

and dark, yet you won't save your master.

If death needs a new friend, I cannot fight him.

Then let me go in his place.

No.

The Tsar has been my friend and father.

If anyone should go, it should be me.

Take me and spare the Tsar.

I beg you.

Raise B.

Is it all up with you?

Do you know what this is?

A sack.

Well, if this is a sack, then get in it.

The news whispered from one of the Tsars, 50 wives to the others, spread

the town as fast as gossip, which is what it was, and nothing spread faster.

And within four and a half minutes, the whole town knew.

And within 17 minutes, the whole country knew. And by the following morning, it

was the talking point of a thousand languages.

Death a prisoner.

Muerte un prisionero.

I forgot the Greek.

Exactly.

And the soldier, to be on the safe side, set off with death in his sack and

found the thickest forest and the highest tree and clambered up it and

death from the longest branch and promptly fell off.

But there's nothing like death off duty to cushion a fall.

So nothing died?

Nothing. The oddest battle.

There were wars going on in most places and they were very strange.

At the end of a day's carnage, flashing swords and explosions, the air thick

with arrows and savage swoosh of axes, nobody had died.

The armies would look at each other exhausted and intact.

Duels at dawn went on till midnight when the rivals would go home confused.

Crossed lovers would throw themselves off cliffs and have a long climb back.

And my friend the soldier was the most famous man in the world because suddenly

everyone could live forever.

He sat in his palace and whistled his ruby whistle.

And then one day, looking down from his window, he sees his courtyard full of

poor souls wandering.

Old crags of folk barely held together.

They were waiting, waiting for death.

Death's release, and it would not come.

And the soldier could not bear their sorrow.

Back he went to the forest.

Death?

I've led you a merry dance, but now you must have me and set the world to

rights.

Death!

Come back!

But death had fear of the soldier and his sack and would not come back.

He was condemned to watch while others aged and died, but death would not come

for him.

No, the soldier, old chipper, dried beef, lived on and

on and on until he could stand it no longer.

and dragged his dust and fragments across to the edge of the earth and

down to hell.

Yes? A sinful soul comes to surrender his life.

Yes. What's that you're carrying?

Nothing. An old sack.

I beg you. Go away. Go on and take that horrible sack with you.

But where can I go?

We don't care. Just dig it off.

I won't go unless you give me a map to heaven and a way...

what this is. Don't wave that sack around. All right, 200.

Follow the map until you can go no further.

Then go directly up until you get the sensation of standing on your head.

I am the soldier who took death prisoner, and I have brought 200 souls

in the hope that God will forgive me and let me in with them.

The souls may enter, but alone.

Go, then, and be blessed.

Take this, friend, and once inside, call me into the sack.

Remember, I delivered you from the furnace.

But you see, there is no memory in heaven.

Souls forget.

The soldier waited and waited, an inch from paradise.

Until after a long time, forgotten, he turned and walked slowly back to Earth.

And for all I know, he wanders still.

So sad.

Oh, he's a rare boy, my friend, the soldier.

He's somewhere about as famous.

You sure?

Come on.

You can have your biscuit.

Do

you know what this

is? A sack.

Well, if it's a sack, then get in it.

Just checking.

Well,

that's our show for tonight.

Oh, you're back from the library.

What have you got there?

Come on, let me see.

Let's see.

Oh, it's a library card. That's good. Everybody needs one of those.

Here you go.

Thank you for joining us tonight. Come back again next week.