Original subtitles

Hmm. What's the headline, George?

Local officials concerned over booming cat population.

According to a recent survey, there are, quote, a lot of cats in this town.

That many, huh?

And they say if the trend continues by the year 2010, there will be, quote, a

lot more cats.

Will this madness never end?

I don't think so, Dick.

You see, when two cats fall in love, the male cat... I know.

I know.

Oh, what a morning.

First, the wallpaper hanger showed up an hour late for work.

You're over an hour late yourself, Stephanie.

Then, they just stood around drinking coffee and gabbing about their personal

problems.

Anyway, the carriage house looks great. You really should see it sometime.

We'd love to. When?

Joanna, that was just an expression.

A pleasantry. It's like when I say, how are you, I don't really expect an

answer.

By the way, Steph, thanks for that super cocktail party last night.

You must have had two, three hundred people there.

You see, Dick, I wasn't dreaming. There really was a mile -long conga line going

up and down our driveway.

Half of Vermont rates, and we don't?

Well, I didn't think you'd fit into our circle.

But George would.

Okay, okay, okay.

You want to drop by tonight?

Well, we hate putting you out like this.

Maybe we should bring our own dinner.

Oh, you're a dear.

But no red meat.

Michael's trying to lay off.

How about chicken Kiev?

There's something quick and easy.

This is my brother Daryl, and this is my other brother Daryl.

We're here to return George's drill.

Oh, thanks.

Unfortunately, Daryl's root canal took a tad longer than expected.

Well, here's your problem. You had the bit in upside down.

Miss Stephanie, thanks again for last night's elegant soiree.

My brother so enjoyed tickling the average on your new spinnet.

I'm sure the only thing missing from the evening was us.

I'm sorry, Dick.

Maybe if you had some hidden talent, it would have warranted an invitation.

Well, you know, I played the bongos a little.

Could you fellas make it over again tonight? Right now, my dinner party

like death.

Okay, thanks.

Okay, Joanna, chicken kia for eight.

Better make that for nine.

Sometimes Daryl likes to bring his imaginary friend, Ronald, to these

Oh, wonderful. I'm always looking for an excuse to spend an entire day in a hot

kitchen. Then this must be your lucky day.

Say hey, one and all.

Me and mine are off to the mall.

Can't you just say hi?

Not when this slap -happy pappy is charged for charging.

The spring infant wear line is in, and I want to scoop up a sack full of those

baby Yves Saint Laurent stretchies.

Michael, don't you think you're overindulging baby Stephanie just a tiny

Thanks for the morning chuckle, Jojo.

Oh,

by the way, Michael, we're having another party tonight. Dick and Joanne

themselves over.

It's all Zoritaville.

Then again, they did give us our casa for nada.

How's seven -ish?

The mall doesn't close till ten -ish. How about eleven -ish?

Eleven -ish?

Pretty late -ish.

Oh, what the heck? I mean, doesn't everyone eat dinner watching Carson?

Ish?

Lana, it's nearly midnight. Can't we eat?

And insult our host and hostess?

Our host hasn't even showed up yet, and our hostess is upstairs soaking in a

damn bubble bath.

Okay, who wants another hit?

Well, it's at the top, Pop.

How I do savor the 66 Chateau Latour. A bit pricey, but ooh, that nutty bouquet.

You've only been soaking for an hour.

Well, I knew I had guests waiting.

Joanna, I know you don't get out much, but is this how we dress for a dinner

party?

See, Joanna, I told you you should have worn a towel on your head.

Apparently that jack -in -the -box has tickled my siblings' collective fancies.

followed by an element of surprise.

The same device exploited by Hitchcock in his overly spoofed 1960 thriller,

Psycho.

Sorry I'm so corny.

Mr. Markey's baby boutique had a midnight madness sale.

Oh, Michael, you look exhausted.

Why don't we do this party thing another time?

What covers all your work?

Oh, don't think about that.

We can do it all again tomorrow night, right, Joanna?

You... Want us to leave?

It's after midnight. Some of us have work in the morning.

Oh, baby is so pretty.

Yes, you are.

Well, glad I had that late lunch at 9 .30.

We'll grab a burger at Jack in the Box.

Tomorrow night, what about seafood?

Why the hell not?

Careful, Dick. You're about to... Trip over baby's first cappuccino maker.

You know, Michael, if you keep buying the baby all this stuff, she'll grow up

be a spoiled monster like, you know, some character on a

TV show.

like characters on TV shows, except for that Mrs. Roper on Three's Company.

Still can't look at a moo -moo without thinking of that horny woman.

Well, since you completely missed my point, I'll be leaving.

What does Dr. Dick know?

Nothing wrong with spoiling your kid.

Is there?

Baby is so pretty.

Yes, I am.

Oh, yes, I am.

Hi, baby Steph.

Hi.

You look so pale. Have you been selling your blood again?

My last pint.

Oh, goody, where's my present? Here you go, princess.

A cashmere sweater!

And it's so expensive.

It's a good thing you're working five jobs and Mommy's cleaning toilets at the

all -new 2000 room, George Utley Stratford Inn and Casino.

Well, that still didn't cover the cost. I had to sell my spleen to buy you that

one.

That's okay, Daddy. Everybody has two spleens.

No, everybody has two kidneys.

Except me.

Oh, that's right.

You sold one of yours to buy me that beautiful graduation sweater.

By the by.

Well, where is that swell sweater I sent you from Sweden, sweetie?

Well, let's see.

It must be around here someplace.

I really should start labeling these.

Honey, remember how I vowed never to rest till you owned every cashmere

in the world?

Of course, Daddy. You put it in writing.

Well, this last one makes your collection complete and my job is done.

Are you happy, sweetie?

Oh, Daddy.

I'm the happiest girl in the world.

Of course.

I'd be even happier if I had.

Every shoe in the world.

Oh, no.

Aren't I Daddy's little girl?

Yes, honey, but Daddy's all out of blood.

Then make some more.

I'm not sure I can without...

No! No!

No! No!

No! No!

Daddy's little girl.

Daddy's little ghoul.

Local officials report sharp decline in mouse population.

On one hand, there are more cats in this town.

On the other, there are fewer mice in this town.

There almost seems to be a connection.

Just high?

Oh, Dick Doc, you were right.

Last night I dreamed a little dream of little Steph.

She grew up to be a pouty, I'll be a pretty, prima donna.

She was like Evita, Leona, Imelda.

Joanna.

Maybe I don't get this list.

Maybe, maybe not, George.

Grant and I admire a healthy dose of selfishness as much as the next

but all this clothes horse he did was take, take, take, take, take.

And of course...

All that you and Stephanie do is just take, take, take.

See the difference?

Night and day.

My opinion might not mean much, seeing I'm a childless old bachelor with bum

knees and a trunk full of broken dreams.

Can we zip this along, Cheeky, sir?

Maybe you shouldn't spoil baby Steph.

But how else can I buy the affection of my post -fetal femme fatale?

You don't have to buy it. Just... Spend time with her. Take her to the park.

Park?

You know, that thing across the street with grass and rocks.

Grass?

Rocks?

Think of a park as God's mall.

Sort of a green galleria.

Go, man, go.

Well... The park has swings to play on and hills to climb.

Hills?

Let's see.

They're like out -of -order escalators.

Screeching tires.

This six -cylinder cerebellum just did a 180.

From now on, we'll go barefoot in the park and find splendor in the grass and

picnic under the yum -yum tree, but please don't eat the daisies.

The Poseidon Adventure.

Dick, did I just miss the point of another list?

Yep.

The way I figure it, the rise in the cat population has something to do with the

decline of the mouse population.

My brother scoffed at your theory.

They blame the decline in the mouse population on their wildly successful

of rodent skin coats and mufflers.

Elegant mouse, rat, and weasel skins.

Or the discriminating buyer who's tired of wearing feathers.

Well, I know I'm...

Pretty bored with my chicken hat.

Well, I'm not waiting any longer. I'm going to serve dinner before my crab

burn.

Is Michael here yet?

Probably still out looking at trees.

Trees? You mean like they have in those park things?

Actually, Michael took little Steph to one of those park things, you know, to

show her that the best things in life are free.

Well, now, who would put a stupid idea like that in his head?

Home again, home again. Jiggy jog.

Sorry I'm late. I'm late for a very important date.

Michael, you have shredded green stuff on your Gucci's. You have been to one of

those park things.

No more shopping sprees for our little shiksa.

Ah, wilderness, the good earth, the lilies of the field.

The guns of Navarone.

Michael, what's wrong with you?

Have you forgotten our vow of materialism?

But, Muffin, I had a dream. I've been to the mountains. This is no time to quote

Shakespeare.

Michael, read my perfectly lined lips.

No more park things. Who knows what horrible effect it could have on our

My mother used to take me to one of those park things all the time.

You see?

Well, a lot you care about my spleen.

All right.

Let's eat.

Will you look at the time.

Imagine how much fun one of these dinner parties would be if we actually ate

dinner.

I agree, Daryl. This is eerily reminiscent of our all -naked production

Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.

Well, somebody's going to enjoy this damn meal.

Hmm, those crab cakes look delicious.

Could my covers be correct?

Is it wrong to nurture my niblet with nature?

More wine?

Oh, thank you. Yes, I'd love some.

Well, maybe just half a glass.

I don't want to get tipsy and start talking to myself, do I? No.

Hi, baby Steph. I'm... home.

What have you done to our carriage house?

Why, Papa, I've turned it into a soup kitchen for the unfortunates of this

world.

Oh, baby Steph, you're getting worse.

First it was the Peace Corps, and then Vista, and then Greenpeace.

Ah, yes.

Remember the harpoon I took in my thigh from that Japanese waiting ship?

You're a gift from God, Blondie.

No, you are, sir.

Why are you doing this to yourself?

Oh, Papa, I just want to make the world a better place.

Then put on a designer dress and some eyeliner, please.

But, Papa, those are material possessions.

I know the best things in life are free.

Who taught you that, Claptrap?

Why, you did when I was two months old and you took me to that park thing.

Damn that dick.

I lied. Look, the best things in life cost lots and lots of money.

Did you get the dozen cashmere sweaters I sent you from Scotland?

My, yes.

And I hope they're from naturally shedded goats, not ones that were

against their will.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, sure. Here.

Look, here's two more.

Oh, they're lovely.

Oh, wait, you're... No, you...

Oh, very uptown.

But not so dressy you can't wear it downtown.

Baby Steph, I order you to stop giving away your pretty thing.

Who needs expensive clothing?

You do.

Oh, Papa.

Virtue is its own reward.

If you insist on disobeying, I'm just going to have to buy you more sweaters.

I'll just give them away.

Then I'll buy you shoes.

I'll just give them away. Then I'll buy you hats.

I'll just give them away. Then I'll buy you dresses.

I'll just give them away.

Then I'll buy you furs.

Ew!

Well, I meant fake furs.

I'll just give them away.

Oh, Papa, can't you get this through your head?

I don't need possessions to make me happy.

What's in the evening paper, George?

Oh, the usual.

War, politics, cats.

You know, maybe I'll get a cat.

According to the paper, they're supposed to be, quote, soft and warm and furry.

Well, George, if that's what you want, I'll give you one of Joanna's sweaters.

I'll have to think about it.

Let's see.

One will look good wrapped around my shoulders.

The other has a V -neck.

There you are. And here I go. Catch the lights on your way out. Oh, hearken to

my tale of woe. Good night. Good night.

Dick, wait.

Last night I had a nightmare on Baby Step Street, part two.

I denied my bubble of her booty, and she grew up to be kind to mankind, man.

Kids of the future.

Dick, she wasn't wearing makeup, and... she was an idealist.

Oh, my God, no.

But, Michael, obviously, you're gonna have to compromise.

You know, don't deprive Stephanie of everything, but at the same time,

you know, don't give her too much.

And take the chance, she won't be gorgeous, Dickens.

Forget it, Fenster.

I'm spoiling my spawned one silly.

That's exactly what I'd do.

I just have to convince my spousal Spitfire to take me back.

I got it. I'll just plead temporary insanity on the grounds that I've

to you.

I'll just tell her I was stir -crazed. I was bananas.

That this one flew over the cuckoo's nest.

The blob.

Go to bed, George.

Night, Dick. Night, George.