Original subtitles

Hey, Pop.

Eddie...

I have told you never to sneak up on me like that.

Sorry, Pop.

I might cut my sideburns crooked...

and ruin my button-down Ivy League image.

Pop.

There's something I want to ask you. Eddie...

if I cut my head off with this razor, I'm sending you straight to your room.

Gee, Pop, all I want to ask you is if you'd give me a picture of yourself.

A picture of myself? What for?

I don't want to embarrass you, Pop, but you are the handsomest father around.

Go on. Go on. Go on. Go on.

And you're the neatest father a kid could have.

Go on. What are you stopping for? You're doing fine.

Well, I just wanted a picture of you...

so I could send it in to the Father of the Year contest.

Me? Father of the Year?

No, Eddie.

I hardly think so, Son.

Okay, Pop, if you don't want me to enter you.

Come back here this instant, Son.

You'll find a photograph of your father in the top drawer.

Thanks, Pop.

Of course, it's really not fair to the other fathers.

Once the contest officials see my photograph, I win hands down.

Aunt Lily, I don't know what to do with this.

A few shots of penicillin should clear that up in no time.

Grandpa, this lump of clay is Marilyn's new project for art class.

She has to sculpt something out of it.

Maybe I could do a bust of a classical Greek...

like Apollo or Achilles, or...

Seymour. Who's Seymour?

Who's Seymour?

Seymour Akalatzis.

He was a famous Greek taxidermist back in Transylvania.

He used to stuff all the guys' mother-in-laws for free room and board.

No, I need someone a little more interesting.

Hi, everybody. Hi!

Hello, dear.

What's this pile of junk doing here?

Herman, this is Marilyn's art project.

Marilyn's art... Oh.

Say, listen, that shows lots of talent.

Lots of style there. Very good.

Herman, Marilyn hasn't even started yet.

It's for my art class and I'm trying to think of a good subject.

Like what?

Well, Marilyn thought maybe something like a Greek god...

a masculine face with finely chiseled features...

a head that will show the beauty and strength...

of perfect manhood.

A Greek god...

a masculine face...

the beauty and strength of perfect manhood.

Marilyn dear, he's standing right here in this room.

Thank you. But I am too nervous to pose.

No! No! No! No!

Me. Me. Me.

Herman Munster.

Father of the Year candidate, and Greek god.

I hate to throw my modesty to the winds...

but let's face facts.

Herman, I've never been so seasick before on dry land.

You know, If Michelangelo had used me for a model...

there's no telling how far he could have gone.

Herman, would you mind closing your mouth...

while we're trying to turn you into a work of art?

Hey, Pop. Guess what?

I just mailed your picture to the Father of the Year contest...

and guess what the winner gets?

Lay the goodies on me, Clyde. First, there's a trip to Hawaii.

Oh, boy.

I better start packing my baggies and wax down my surfboard.

I'll do it for you, Pop. Thank you.

And in addition, the winner gets four new suits...

a whole new wardrobe...

and a lifetime supply of frozen enchiladas.

Yummy.

Won't it be fun to have a Father of the Year...

in our very own family?

Herman will never make it!

What do you mean, "Herman will never make it"?

Well, in the first place, Herman has a colossal conceit.

I do not. You do so.

I do not.

I have a plain, ordinary conceit.

And you're just being jealous.

Just because you're not up for Father of the Year...

you're acting like a big baby.

Yourself.

Grandpa, now stop this bickering or I'll send you up to your slab.

Well, there's one thing for sure.

That bust of Uncle Herman is going to get me an A in art class.

All righty, I'll call it Confetti.

It's a nutty business here.

Hello, Professor Von Fagenspahen.

I brought in my sculpturing project a little early.

Aren't you a beauty, sweetie student. I wish everybody was like you.

Here, hold this. Let's take a little peek here and see what we got here.

For goodness sake, what is it?

It's my sculpture, Professor.

Such imagination!

You have drawn from the very depths of your creativity to fashion this.

You have captured man in his very essence...

right down to the button.

Get a load of that schnoz there.

I really owe a lot to the model.

This is primitive man in all of his rawness.

This is beautiful savagery. This is...

But model? What model?

My Uncle Herman, he modeled for me and I just sculpted.

Wait a minute, hold here the horses, darling.

You mean to say that there is someone like this alive around here someplace?

Yes. He lives at home with us and he's just 151 years old.

A hundred and fifty...

Wait a minute, once more, what did you say?

I said he's my uncle and he's 151 years old.

That's what I thought you said. Excuse me a minute, darling.

I will take this now, thank you.

Hello, Uncle Herman.

Hi, Marilyn, how was school?

Just wonderful, my art professor really loved the bust I did of you.

He even took a photograph of it to show his colleagues.

Goody!

What are you two doing here?

I was just telling Uncle Herman...

how much the Professor loved my project.

It really knocked him out.

Well, your Uncle Herman's looks have always bowled people over.

Mom, has the mail come yet?

I want to see what the committee said about Pop being Father of the Year.

Not yet, dear.

By the way, Herman, what are you whittling?

I'm doing a self-portrait in wood.

If I can make it do me justice...

I might mass produce them and make a million dollars.

That's a neat piece of wood, Pop. Where'd you get it?

I found it standing out on the front porch. Standing out on the front porch?

Herman, what do you think is holding up the front porch?

Are you insinuating that I'm fatheaded enough...

to remove a piece of wood that was supporting the porch?

Precisely.

Poppycock and balderdash.

Dumb old porch.

Now, I have in my art class a Marilyn Munster...

a very pretty little chicken.

Anyway, she is making this an art project, a sculpture.

I want to show you what she did.

Hmm.

She seems to have captured a perfect likeness of a prehistoric caveman...

but what of it?

What if I told you that this prehistoric caveman...

is Marilyn's uncle and he's alive?

And breathing yet.

I'd say that...

either you've been having archeological hallucinations or...

you've been hitting the sauce.

Knock it off with the sauce. I'm off the sauce.

What I am telling you is true here, Professor.

Do you realize what this means? What it is we got here?

If we could prove that our missing link here is actually alive...

then we could become famous in scientific circles.

Knock it off with the scientific circles, that's for the birds.

If we can prove that this missing link is alive...

we'll be filthy rich!

In the ocean, we'll tell everybody to jump...

the dean, the Board of Regents, the whole schmeer!

Professor Von Fagenspahen, you are a genius.

Naturally, I'm German.

The first order of the day is to write to our missing link...

and have him come here for a physical examination...

then we'll cash in on him.

You may be a prehistoric monster...

but to me, you're a beauty-sweetie.

The mail's here.

Oh, my.

That mailman certainly keeps his distance...

since that time Spot buried him in the backyard.

Some people get so annoyed with pets.

Goody, there's one for me.

Oh, boy! Oh, boy!

Oh, boy, what? Listen.

"Dear Mr. Munster...

"my colleague and I were very impressed with your photograph.

"Therefore we would like you to appear before our committee...

at the State University at your earliest convenience."

I've done it again.

Herman, what are you talking about?

It should be obvious, Grandpa...

those discriminating judges down at the University are about to elect me...

Father of the Year.

It's that contest Eddie entered my picture in.

Herman, I'm so excited!

My husband, a celebrity.

Now I know how Lady Bird must feel.

Father of the Year Committee, here I come.

Gentlemen, that letter...

should have reached this Herman Munster, a long time ago.

If he doesn't show up, we're going to blow a bundle, you know that?

I know. I just hope he looks like this picture, that this isn't some kind of joke.

But this just can't be. It's impossible.

Do you expect me to believe that a thing like this is living in this day and age?

You're right, Doctor. We must have been crazy to think...

that we could have discovered a real missing link.

I'm so excited. I could go back on the sauce.

I guess you could say I come from the school of hard knocks.

Mr. Munster?

That's me, in the flesh.

What green flesh, yet.

Look at that face. But he's real! It's incredible!

Say, what are you guys whispering about?

This is a big day for all of us.

Let's get on with the interview, so you can lay all those prizes on me.

Excuse me...

but I didn't hear what you said.

My ear didn't get a good grip on your words.

Prizes.

You know, all the neat junk you're going to give me for being Father of the Year.

Prizes? Father?

Excuse me, my colleagues and I have to have a little conference, if you don't mind.

Please, colleagues, in the corner, please.

Did you hear what he said? He wants prizes.

And he says he's a father. Take a look at that puss on him.

I'd hate to see what his offshoot looks like.

Whatever the offshoot looks like, I'll bet it's very popular on Halloween.

The main thing is to humor him till I can complete my examination.

Let's go, team.

Do I get my prize now?

In a minute you can have all the prizes you want...

the doctor wants to examine you first.

The doctor wants to examine me?

Yes, we want to see if you're in good shape...

so that you can carry all those nice prizes home.

Yeah, on top of that we wouldn't like to have...

the Father of the Year being a broken-down bum, would we?

I suppose not.

Okay, close up the mouth now so we can commence to begin here.

I can't believe it. I just can't believe it.

My son-in-law, Father of the Year?

Now, Grandpa, the committee wouldn't have sent for him, if Herman hadn't won.

Hmm.

Your move, sucker!

It looks like I won that game, stupid. Now pay up that bet.

You ain't gonna pay?

You fink! I should have left you where I found you.

He looks familiar.

Who is that you're playing checkers with, anyway, Grandpa?

Some deadbeat I dug up on one of my walks through the cemetery.

How dare you come into our house and weasel out on a bet!

I'll have you know we are respectable and honest people.

Now, you get out of here! Out! Out! Out!

You were a nothing when I found you and you're still a nothing!

Now, what were you saying?

We were talking about Herman's being Father of the Year.

I'm glad he did win that contest.

If he hadn't have won, we would have had an 8-foot crybaby on our hands.

You know, for the award ceremony...

I think I'll send to Saks Transylvania for a new shroud.

Hi, everybody.

What's the matter, Eddie?

I was just over at my friend Buster Jordan's house.

You look like the world is coming to an end.

That'd be just fine compared to this.

Buster's father won the Father of the Year contest.

But, Eddie, that's impossible.

Your dad is meeting with the Father of the Year committee right now.

Eddie, what is this?

It's the contest announcement in the afternoon paper.

You know what the worst part is? What, dear?

I got the dates mixed up.

Pop would've won, only I goofed it up.

I mailed his picture into the contest after the deadline.

I don't understand.

He's supposed to be meeting with the committee now.

I wonder who he is talking with?

The last time he met with strangers...

they sold him the Vic Tanny franchise for Greenland.

Don't worry about it. Herman has a good head on his shoulders.

Nothing in it, but he's got a good head on his shoulders.

I want you to notice his head.

Barring an absurd skull thickness...

his brain capacity measures 2,500 centimeters.

Mr. Munster, you have enough brains to fill a large bucket.

I don't know about that, but...

I do wear a size 16 and seven-eighths hat...

and I'm kind of partial to black Homburgs.

You are an incredible specimen.

Thank you. I try hard.

I want to measure his chest.

Doctor, if you tickle me, I'm gonna tickle you back.

Try to sit still, Mr. Munster. I won't move a muscle.

Good. Yeah.

I wouldn't want you to get the wrong size when you measure me for my new wardrobe.

By the way...

do you see me in a black raw silk with two buttons and a natural shoulder feel?

Mr. Munster, I'm sorry, but we don't know what it is you're talking about.

You see, we're all a little thick up here.

Well, I am getting measured for my prizes, aren't I?

Yes, the prizes. Of course, the prizes.

Prizes!

Shall we try the patellar reflex?

As long as it isn't anything naughty.

Very interesting.

Must make a note, no knee reflex whatsoever.

We're all put together differently, you know.

I want to test the chest cavity.

Oops-a-daisy!

Boy! You're a live one, all right. Yes.

I think we've seen enough now. We'll send you home.

Send me home? Yeah.

Send me home without my prizes?

My Father of the Year prizes.

If you send me home without my prizes, I'm gonna hold my breath.

Mr. Munster, no. Come on.

Come on. We'll give you all the prizes you want, believe me.

Now, come alive. Come on, team, give me a hand.

You'll just go home like a nice little Kind.You'll hear from us, believe me.

Now be careful, watch your step.

Bye! Bye.

What a find. An actual live throwback to prehistoric times.

He's worth his weight in gold!

But what was all that talk about Father of the Year?

Herr Doctor, when you have a beautiful caveman like that...

who's a potential money-maker right in the palm of your hand...

you don't worry whether he's a nut or not!

Oh, dear, I just won't be able to do it.

I simply can't tell Herman he's not Father of the Year.

Boy, do I feel awful.

Somebody will have to tell him.

He's home.

At least we could break it to him gently.

Hey, Mom, I just remembered...

I left the newspaper in the living room...

that tells about Mr. Jordan winning the contest.

Oh, dear, I hope Herman doesn't see it.

He saw it.

Lily dear, what is the meaning of this?

Well, you see, dear... It's all my fault, Pop.

I didn't mail your picture to the Father of the Year contest on time.

Uncle Herman, you would have won.

I'm fully aware of that, Marilyn.

You mean you aren't going to flip out or anything, Herman?

Grandpa...

I understand the situation perfectly.

A man of my mettle must readily absorb disappointments.

It was just a simple mistake.

The child here failed to enter me on time, therefore, I could not compete.

Therefore, the contest went to another man, therefore...

it's an open-and-shut case.

Pop, I'm glad you're not mad at me. Son, I'm not finished.

Therefore, I do not get my new wardrobe.

Therefore, I do not get my free trip to Hawaii.

Therefore, I do not get all my other neat prizes.

Therefore, I'm going to have a tantrum. Because, you know what this is?

It's dirty! Dirty! Dirty!

It's rotten! Rotten! Rotten!

Crummy! Crummy! Crummy!

I'm certainly glad you calmed down, Herman.

When you pounded your head against the wall...

our entire chimney collapsed.

I'm still a little peeved at those guys at the university for making me think...

I won the Father of the Year contest.

I wonder who they were?

Spot went out and fetched the newspaper again.

Wasn't that nice of him.

Will you look at this!

Will you look at this!

It explains who those ninnies were...

that pretended they were the Father of the Year committee.

Hmm.

"Professors fired from university...

"for perpetrating hoax.

"They claimed to find a prehistoric living man.

Doctored photograph is proof of hoax."

Listen to this editorial comment.

"How ignorant do they think the public is...

to believe this creature could be walking our streets?"

Well, I say it serves those dirty little professors right.

Imagine trying to pass off a handsome specimen like me...

for a prehistoric monster.

It proves one thing, Herman...

that this world is full of weirdoes.

You're so right.