All language subtitles for The Golden Girls - 03x13 - The Artist.

(music) Thank you for being a friend

(music) Traveled down the road and back again

(music) Your heart is true

(music) You're a pal and a confidante

(music) And if you threw a party

(music) Invited everyone you knew

(music) You would see
The biggest gift would be from me

(music) And the card attached would say

(music) Thank you for being a friend (music)

Well, hi, Ma. How was bingo?

Judge for yourself.

Ma, you don't have any clothes on.

Tell me about it.
I just walked ten blocks.

I got a belly button full of tweed.

Ma, what the hell happened?

In the middle of bingo,
Murray Hazeltine sits down.

He's the big practical joker
at the center.

Believe me, Howie Mandel is funnier.

Anyway, he tells me to sniff
his carnation for good luck.

- I take one whiff, and bingo.
- He squirted your dress with ink.

Actually, it was Del Monte prune juice.

It's free at the center. It's a come-on.

They make their real money
on the powdered toilet seat rentals.

What happened to your clothes?

Murray took them to have them cleaned.

I still can't believe it happened.

I've never been so humiliated.

There's no reason
for you to be embarrassed.

He plays tricks on everybody.

I'm talking about on my way home.

My belt came loose
in front of a construction site.

Nobody whistled,
and two guys went home sick.

- Hi, girls.
- Oh, hi, Rose.

Sophia, what are you doing with
that heavy coat on inside the house?

- You tell me, Rose.
- Ma!

Dorothy, was Sophia naked just now,

or does her dress really need ironing?

Hello, girls. Dorothy,
Rose, you remember Laszlo.

Of course. Laszlo,
the artist from your museum.

Oh, we really enjoyed
your lecture on modern sculpture.

I didn't think anyone
was paying attention.

Oh, we sure were. Especially Dorothy.

She talked about taking up sculpting.

- Really?
- Oh, no, I didn't.

Yes, you did.

You said you'd like to help him mold
his clay or buff his marble anytime.

Rose, you're such a kidder.

Won't you sit down.

He is gorgeous, isn't he, girls?

There's not a woman at the museum
who hasn't been after him.

Women can be so silly.

They think because you're an artist,
you must be a great lover.

Because you're a master in the studio,

you must be a master in the bedroom.

They think because you can work a piece
of clay into a piece of beautiful art,

you can also work a woman's body
into fits of ecstasy and passion

and total screaming abandon.

Would anybody else like
something cold to drink?

- I would.
- I would.

Blanche, I really should be going.

Thank you again for the ride home.

It was my pleasure.

Good-bye, Blanche.

Good-bye, Dorothy.

Good-bye, Rose.

Good-bye, Blanche again.

It was my pleasure, ladies. Good-bye.

Laszlo, I'll see you tomorrow.

Indeed.

That sure sounded as if you
and Laszlo have something going.

Maybe.

You're not telling us?

All right. All right.
You twisted my arm.

Girls, Laszlo's asked me
to pose for one of his sculptures.

- You're kidding.
- No, I'm not. Look here.

He gave me the key to his building.

I have my first session tomorrow.

Wow!

He's always wanted to do a piece

on the mature woman,
and he thinks I'm perfect for it.

And the best part is, he's gonna have it
displayed at his big show.

I can't believe you're actually
going through with this.

Of course I am, Rose.

Laszlo is a world-famous sculptor.

This is my opportunity
to be immortalized forever

in a classic work of art.

That's what she said when that
shoe salesman took Polaroids of her

in the backseat of his Volare.

- Good morning, Ma.
- Good morning.

I poured you a glass of orange juice.

Thank you. It was very nice of you.

Ma! Is this a dribble glass?

Yeah. It works better when all that pulp
doesn't clog up the dribble hole.

Why did you do this?

Murray Hazeltine.
He won't quit with the practical jokes.

I'm gonna give him
a taste of his own medicine.

Do I look like Murray Hazeltine?

A little around the eyebrows.
But that's not the point.

I've got to have the perfect gag
before I spring it on him.

Aw, I'm sorry, pussycat.

No hard feelings?

Oh, okay, Ma. No hard feelings.

- [Buzz]
- Ah!

You know, I could really
get tired of this.

Good morning.
Dorothy, you're a mess.

I just spilled orange juice on myself.

Oh, really? I didn't notice that.

Pour Blanche some orange juice, Ma.

I could use that.
I might be coming down with a cold.

Doesn't come as a surprise.
You've spent every afternoon this week

standing stark naked
in a cold, windy studio.

Oh, I didn't catch cold
at Laszlo's studio, Dorothy.

Laszlo keeps me too warm for that.

Too warm and too tingly.

Too warm and too tingly and too hot.

Well, have some juice anyway, Blanche.

I'd feel better.

Not that we actually do anything.

In the studio. Laszlo's been
a perfect gentleman so far.

I just stand there in front of him
in all my luscious nakedness,

and somehow he manages
to suppress the urge

to throw me on the floor and ravage me.

If he throws you on the floor, you'll
both end up in the apartment below.

Drink up, Blanche.

[Doorbell rings]

That must be him now.

I just have to get my jacket.
We're driving to the museum together.

Coming, Laszlo.

Hi, Laszlo. Come in.
Blanche went to get her jacket.

Thank you, Rose.

We are so excited
about what you two are doing.

- It's gonna turn out great.
- I wish I was so sure.

- What do you mean?
- I'm having second thoughts.

About what?

When I met Blanche, I thought
she would be the perfect model.

You know, sexy, sassy, exciting.

But now I'm thinking there are
other qualities I wish to capture.

- Like what?
- Innocence.

Wholesomeness. Naiveté.

I see a woman with a fuller figure,
wider hips, wider eyes.

Rose.

Laszlo.

Rose, I have to ask you something.

I know what it is.

You're gonna ask me to pose for you.

- No, I'm not.
- Oh.

Oh. I'm so embarrassed.

That's it. That's exactly
the quality I want to capture.

Oh, take my key, Rose.
Come to my studio.

We will make a beautiful sculpture.

- What about Blanche?
- I will still see her.

She doesn't have to know about you.

- Tomorrow morning at 10:00?
- That seems so dishonest.

Blanche is a dear friend.
It would be a betrayal.

Here I am, Laszlo.
Did Rose keep you entertained?

Yes. I find her charming.

Oh, Laszlo.
That's what I love about you.

You can tell a bald-faced lie
and still sound sincere.

I forgot my compact. I'll be back.

Give me that key.

Dorothy, I'm glad you're home.

I was upstairs poking around the attic.
Look what I found.

Your grandmother's antique kaleidoscope.
Here. Take a look.

Ma, you must really think I'm stupid.

What, we don't have an attic?

I am not falling for this.

It's another one
of your practical jokes.

If I look through that,
I'll get charcoal around my eye.

All right, Dorothy. Fine.

Why don't we call a truce
with a nice piece of peanut brittle?

Come on, Ma.
The peanut brittle is an even older gag

than the kaleidoscope.

I'll open the can, snakes will come out.

I am too smart for you.

I am not falling for more
of your practical jokes.

[Air expelling]

Except for this whoopee cushion.

You will not believe
what happened to me today.

I still do not believe it,
and you won't believe it.

- What, Blanche?
- I don't wanna talk about it.

- Hi, Blanche.
- Oh, I am so mad.

Blanche, I can explain.

It's got nothing to do with you.
It's Laszlo.

I saw some of the sketches
he's been doing of me.

He never lets me see them.
So today I found some.

They're horrible.

My hair's all big and frizzy.
The body's all droopy and saggy.

The woman in those sketches is a dog.

- Blanche.
- She's a clown.

- Blanche.
- She's just a...

hideous, wrinkled, old bag.

Blanche, the woman
in those sketches is me.

I know she sounds like you, honey,
but she's not.

Yes, she is. Look.

I wanted to tell you about this
all week, but I couldn't.

I've been posing for Laszlo, too.

Dear Lord, strike me dead
right here and now

if that man prefers Rose Nylund over me.

Blanche, you can't take it personally.

Laszlo just decided he wanted
someone with more innocence.

With more cellulite is more like it.

- Take that back.
- I will not.

- Yes, you will.
- I will not.

Girls, what is going on here?

- Rose stabbing me in the back.
- I did not.

- She's been posing for Laszlo.
- He asked me to.

I don't know why. He can go
to Sea World to see a naked whale.

Or to your bathtub.

Oh.

Oh, that does it, missy.
All right, this means war.

We'll both keep going.
We'll see who he picks.

- It's gonna be me.
- It's gonna be me.

- Girls, I can settle this.
- Tell her who it's gonna be.

It's going to be me.

You, too?

He asked me last Thursday.

Well, I am stunned.

I'm relieved.

Relieved?

Sure. The woman you saw
in those horrible drawings

must have been Dorothy.

This has got to be one
of the worst days in my life.

Two of my best friends
just stabbed me in the back.

Did you really expect us
to turn Laszlo down?

You said yourself it was a chance

to become
"immortalized in a classic work of art."

Horse pucky. You went
for the same reason Rose went:

To get your hands on my man.

What exactly makes you
think he's your man?

- Who?
- Maybe that I found him first.

- Who?
- He dumped you for me.

Who?

- Laszlo, Ma.
- Who's Laszlo?

A Hungarian artist
we've all been posing nude for.

In the future, a simple "none of
your business, Sophia" will suffice.

Tell me honestly, Blanche.

Do you have reason to believe
Laszlo might be interested in you?

Well, just the fact
that on numerous occasions

he has referred to me as his "greatest
artistic inspiration ever, bar none."

- Me, too.
- Me, too.

Oh, let's face it, girls.

We have no idea
which one of us Laszlo wants to use.

I think it's obvious, Dorothy.

The man is an artist. He has taste.

He cannot help but pick the woman with
the most grace, style, femininity...

[air expelling]

I wonder if he knows
which one of us he wants.

He told me that I had something
that Blanche didn't have.

He probably told Dorothy
she had something that I don't.

- Maybe he's back to Blanche.
- I think he's been very unfair.

We ought to stop going.
Then he'd have no sculpture.

- It would serve him right.
- Yes.

Let's make a pact.
None of us will go back.

We'll seal it by you
giving me your keys,

and I'll keep all three of them
safe in my hope chest.

How do we know that you
and your hope chest won't keep going?

There's only one thing to do.

Go to Laszlo and make him
decide who he wants.

- Fine with me.
- Fine with me, too.

Then let's go.

- Where's everybody going?
- We'll be back.

Ma, why don't you sit right over here

and read your magazine, okay?

Oh. Okay.

Don't try to outsmart me, Dorothy.

I got the mind of a fox
and the butt muscles of Baryshnikov.

[Knocking]

Coming.

Oh, Blanche. Hello.
Come in. Come in.

You've brought your friends to see
my studio. What a pleasant surprise.

Laszlo, we all know.

We figured it all out this afternoon.

So, I am caught at last. What can I say?

"Blanche and Rose, get out.
Dorothy, it's you I want."

Dorothy.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I've never seen him in overalls before.

Laszlo, we came over for you to decide

which one of us
you want for your statue.

Rose...

I knew it. It's me.
Walk, suckers. He wants me.

Rose, he just wanted
to say something to you.

I wanted to say
that I would rather not decide at all.

But, Laszlo, you've got to.
It's the only way.

Otherwise, it'll just end up
coming between the three of us.

Which one of us is it gonna be?

Dorothy here, or Rose,

or a woman whose breasts
you once described

as "perfect champagne glass-sized orbs

of dancing loveliness"?

Blanche, I did not say that.

Well, you agreed when I said it.

Ladies, let me explain.

I know I should have made
my choice long ago,

but you each inspired me so well.

I wish I could continue seeing you all,

but I understand
why that is unacceptable.

Therefore, my choice will have to be...

Before you make your choice,

let me say what a privilege
it has been to work with a man

I consider to be the greatest
Hungarian sculptor of our time.

And let me say

if Blanche can name two other
Hungarian sculptors of any time,

I shall eat that statue.

What's it gonna be? Who do you choose?

- None of you.
- None of us?

I have enough sketches
of each of you to make my sculpture.

When I'm ready to begin,
I will make my choice then.

When we will find out?

Only when the work
is unveiled at my show.

Now, I apologize,
but this is how I must work.

Now, ladies,
I must bid you good day.

Laszlo, just one more thing.

You know that famous Picasso painting,

"Nude Woman Playing the Violin"?

- But of course.
- Originally it was called

"Blanche Playing the Violin."

Only it wasn't a violin.

Think about that the next time
you're standing around

with your chisel in your hand.

Oh! Oh, my God, Dorothy.
There it is. The statue.

Oh, this is so exciting.

I can't wait to hear that crowd gasp

when they lift up the sheet
and see me there.

I'd think you'd be used
to that by now, Blanche.

Hi, girls. Some party, isn't it?

What are you so cheerful about?

Why shouldn't I be?

For starters, any minute now,

this entire room could be looking
at a statue of your nude body.

Nude? The statue's gonna be nude?

What did you think?
He'd put it in a rain poncho?

Oh, my God.

Hey, Dorothy, can you believe it?

Ten grand for this piece of junk.

Oh!

Oh, Ma!

You fell for it.

This stuff kills me.

Excuse me, ma'am.
You'll have to come with me.

You just smashed
a priceless Lichtenfein.

- I must have mixed the two up.
- When are you gonna learn

that you have to stop
with these ridiculous practical jokes?

I can't believe it.
She fell for it again.

You ought to have "yutz"
tattooed on your forehead.

Here you go. You were brilliant, Harry.

Ladies and gentlemen,
may I have your attention, please?

This is the moment
we've all been waiting for.

The unveiling of the latest masterpiece
of Mr. Laszlo Gregorian.

So without further ado,

off with the sheet.

Oh!

Oh!

My God, I look gorgeous.

You? Blanche, that's me.

The hell it is.

Girls, be serious. Look at those eyes.

- Look at the nose.
- Look at the butt.

- You can't see the butt.
- Then it sure can't be you.

- You.
- This is ridiculous.

There's only one way to settle this.
Where is Laszlo?

- There he is.
- Laszlo.

Let me be the first to tell you

what a simply stunning
piece of art this is.

- Thank you, Dorothy.
- Who the hell is it?

It's not obvious?

- Not to them.
- Not to them.

I see I must explain.

In this statue,

I want a look of strength and character.

- So I chose Dorothy.
- I knew it.

- Then I dropped her.
- Like so many before you.

I decided I needed
more sensuality and vitality.

So I turned to my sketches of Blanche.

- I knew it.
- Then I put them away.

I wanted more softness, more sweetness.

So I went to my sketches of Rose.

- You mean that's me up there?
- No.

- Then who is it?
- It is all of you.

The answer finally came to me.

Why not take
the best features of each lady

to create one perfect lady?

That is what you see.

It is not hard to understand
why you are such good friends.

You complement each other
very well indeed.

Oh!

Thank you, Laszlo.

One more thing, Laszlo.

I'd like to ask you a question.

By any chance,
is there anybody here tonight

in whom you might be
interested romantically?

Well, as a matter of fact, yes.

I knew it! It's me!

Oh, Laszlo. Looks like we're a hit.

I'm sorry. I thought you knew.

How can you blame him?

The man looked at
the three of you naked for a month.

Morning, Ma.

You'll be glad to know
my practical joking days are over.

Ma, that is wonderful.

So sit down and have a glass of juice.

Okay, I will.

You wouldn't be playing a joke
with this glass, would you?

- Of course not.
- Of course not.

Because I know how much fun
you have playing practical jokes.

I told you it's over. Drink your juice.

Okay, Ma, I will.

Ma, did you leave something
burning on the stove?

What? I don't think so.

It was nothing. Well, bottoms up.

Don't ever change, pussycat.