All language subtitles for s09e13_-_a_new_york_story

What's in the basket? Lunch.

Wanda's decided to make me gourmet meals
from now on.

Wanda Lee's been making me the same dumb
lunch every day for the past seven

years.

Some sort of sandwich, a bruised fruit,

and a warm soda.

And I think she's been using the same
bag for seven years, too.

Let's see what kind of goodies we have
today.

Undine salad.

Saffron potatoes.

Sliced, diced, and lightly spiced.

pheasant under glass.

Wow, that looks great.

Yeah, if you like that kind of stuff.

Personally, I find myself in a culinary
quagmire.

Trade? You bet.

I'd give her an eight for poise, a seven
for posture.

Possible nine in the yummy competition.

I'd give you a ten for slobbering.

Dan, what's the rating system?

I don't like you to be so finicky.

Tonight, I have been requested to bring
my unique powers of judgment to one of

America's most prestigious competitions.
Women from every walk of life set their

hopes and their dreams on hearing the
three words.

There she is.

Miss America?

Miss Mass Transit.

Wow, what an honor.

The winner gets her picture plastered on
every bus and train in the city.

And her face is a target for every
spitball wizard on the line.

You're a judge?

Ha, that just proves that beauty
pageants are nothing but cheap, shallow

displays that humiliate and exploit
women.

Refresh my memory, Christine. Was it the
Miss Buffalo pageant or the Miss Upstate

New York pageant that you lost?

And the rig, too.

Dessert?

Crushed almonds on caramelized flan?

Stale ding-dong?

Call it, Mac.

Public endangerment, sir.

Prosecution? Yes, the defendant is
charged with screaming fire with no

cause in a crowded theater.

Your Honor,

my client was watching the movie while
he was taking a business call on his

cellular phone.

He did not scream fire. He screamed fire
her.

Fire who?

His secretary.

Apparently, she forgot to get his hot
tub delimed.

Oh.

The soured milk of yuppie kindness.

$55 end time, sir. And next time, keep
it in your briefcase, pal.

I'll get it.

Hello? No, this is not his new
secretary.

Well, you have a nice voice, too.

I'm wearing something blue and
form-fitting.

Honey, you should ask. I do have
handcuffs.

Call it, Matt.

People versus Willard obstructing our
thoroughfare and creating a public

nuisance. Mr. Prosecutor?

Your Honor, the defendant was arrested
in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge

where he had parked his car sideways and
was in the process of buffing his

bumper. Mr. Sullivan?

Your Honor, according to Mr.

Willard, he was not obstructing a public
thoroughfare since the Brooklyn Bridge

is now private road, which he claims to
own.

On what basis?

On the basis of the evidence, Your
Honor. It's a canceled check.

Pay to the city of New York $2.50.

Oh, will inflation never end?

Notice the memo line for the purchase of
the Brooklyn Bridge.

Should read for the purchase of a
straight jacket.

Yeah. I also got a canceled check for
the Statue of Liberty, too. Here you go.

You know what I was thinking?

I was thinking of turning her into a
time-sharing condo. You know, give us

your poor, your huddled masses yearning
for two fun-filled, fabulous vacation

weeks a year.

Your Honor, I think we've all heard the
tired old joke about selling the

Brooklyn Bridge.

Yeah, well, this may not be a joke.

If, in fact, my client does own the
Brooklyn Bridge, legally he can do

anything he likes on it.

Well, before he turns it into a water
fun park, what do you say we discuss

this in my chambers? We'll take a short
recess.

Think we have time for a snack?

Sure.

What'd you bring?

Duck a l'orange and Alsatian fruit tart.

Spam spread on animal crackers?

Sold!

I called you all into chambers because I
didn't want everyone to hear that Mr.

Willard might just have a case. You mean
had a case. My guess is bourbon.

I know my claim was legal.

As you know full well, the terms of any
legal transaction are offer, acceptance,

and consideration. Well, Mr. Willard did
offer the city of New York $2.50 for the

Brooklyn Bridge. And the city accepted
it, and since the check cleared, there's

your consideration.

Which makes it mine, mine, mine.

We're the only ones that know about this
real estate windfall.

Oh, a lone, defenseless city just
waiting to be plucked?

My God, do you have any idea how many
years I've had my eye on the Chrysler

building?

Mr. Willard, you have a very small legal
technicality here, but even a small case

like this can keep the legal system tied
up for years.

I got time.

Well, the courts don't.

So what do you say? You forget about
these acquisitions and we'll drop the

charges against you. Why should I?

You said it was legal. I own them.

I said you may have found a small
loophole, but don't you understand?

If this gets out, every crazy in town is
going to start sending in checks.

Not if we keep it to ourselves.

The city won't be able to get any
business done. Things are going to grind

to a halt.

Well, I don't care about this city and
its problems.

It's like it didn't care about me and my
problems.

What are you talking about?

Well, a few years ago, I sent in this
check to pay my taxes.

A year later, I received this from the
city saying, hey, where's your taxes?

I write back, hey, I paid them.

They didn't believe me. So I go down to
city hall and everybody, everybody there

says, it's not my department, not my
business.

I mean, I spent so much time on this,
I...

Lost my job.

And then two weeks ago, they foreclosed
on my house.

Well, that's not fair. I'm sure we can
get your house back.

Better bring a toolbox. They demolished
it.

They tore down your house?

Yeah, quite a snafu, eh?

Where are you living now?

Top of Lady Liberty's Torch. It's kind
of drafty, but whoa, what a view, huh?

Mr. Willard, you have found someone who
will listen to you now.

I'm gonna have Matt make a few calls.
We'll straighten this out. You don't

understand. I want revenge. That's why
I've been buying up all the city's

precious landmarks. Mr. Willard, it's
gonna take some time to work this out,

and during that time, you've gotta stay
off the Brooklyn Bridge.

Oh, sorry, I got 12 people coming for
dinner tomorrow night.

You know how it is. I keep canceling.

I gotta get back to the bridge. I have
to vacuum and scrape.

Mr. Willard, if you're gonna take that
position,

then I have to hold you over for trial.

I'm sorry, Mr. Willard. We'll get you
out as soon as we can.

I have just one question here.

You think six bucks is too much for
Grand Central Station?

Not if you throw in that really big
clock.

Your friend is here, Dan.

I hope this wrapper means she's been
sanitized for your protection.

This isn't a surprise, my old friend,
Miss Crosstown Bus.

Don't old friend me.

You have a lot of explaining to do,
Judge Fielding. I don't really go under

the name Judge around here.

You promised me I'd be crowned Miss Mass
Transit.

Hold on a minute. When did I promise
that?

When I was scrubbing your back with the
loofah sponge.

Well, then I'd have said anything. I was
temporarily insane.

I had my heart set on all those
wonderful prizes.

A lifetime transit pass.

A silver-plated stun gun.

And they were going to name a sandwich
after me at the Port Authority.

I'm guessing the tongue sandwich.

I put myself on the line for you.

I told the other judges, Miss Crosstown
Bus has unique qualities that go far

deeper than just a pretty face and a
great body.

Although those qualities go pretty deep,
too.

You really said those beautiful things
about me?

I wept when you didn't win.

No woman could be this stupid.

meant Miss Tollbooth.

Let me prove it. How about dinner?

Well... Friday night.

Okay.

Don't forget.

Bring the loofah sponge.

What happened here? Did I miss
something?

Nope. Just another episode of Dan
Fielding, America's Luckiest Man.

I'm afraid Mr. Willard's story checks
out.

There is no record that he paid his
taxes.

The city did tear down his house, and
they have plans to put in a mini mall.

That is just not fair.

Well, they did promise to name it after
him.

Excuse me, Judge Stone.

Mr. Willard.

I just paid my bail. I was on my way to
check my properties. I wanted to stop by

and ask you something.

You ask me whatever you like, Mr. Wood.

Because I'm not about to stand by and
watch an innocent man get trampled by

the system. What can I do for you? You
can, uh... You can get out of here.

Excuse me?

Vacate the premises.

See, when I was downstairs paying my
bail, I couldn't resist writing a check

for the courthouse.

Oh, man.

Oh!

You think this room's big enough for a
pool table, huh?

Miss Adrian, you have to try to imagine
what this means to the city. I'm an

accountant, Judge Stone, and as deputy
city comptroller, I'm paid not to

imagine.

That would explain your outfit.

Excuse me.

Listen, all you've got to do is
reimburse Mr. Willard for his losses,

and he'll drop his silly claim.

Please, I'm crunching numbers.

Hmm, that's very interesting.

What's interesting?

Yes, that's very, very interesting.

And it just might work.

What might work?

What if he did own the building?

What are you talking about?

Hide the pet. Here comes the landlord.

Mr.

Willard, Judge Stone, I've been thinking
about everything you said, you know,

and, well, I had a change of heart.

Actually, 20 hours in holding didn't
hurt.

I don't want any more trouble, so why
don't I give you back the bridge and the

buildings? I'm sure the city comptroller
will be very glad to hear that. Deputy

city comptroller, I'm Monica Adrian.

Adrian. Adrian, you're the one.

You're the one who signed the demolition
order for my house.

The brownstone. It's so nice to put a
face with the name.

It's a pleasure to meet you. And may I
remind you, all sales are final.

What? If my calculations are correct, if
I subtract the cost of the maintenance

of the property you bought, Mr.

Willard, we might be able to balance the
city budget for the first time in 20

years. Huh?

And if I could get some takers on the
Staten Island Ferry and Yankee Stadium,

we could actually make a profit.

You know, I might be looking at a seat
on the city council.

This is your idea of help, Judge Stone?

Uh, Miss Adrian, this is not a viable
solution.

It is for us. The bridge, the statue,
and the courthouse, they're yours.

Lock, stock, and upkeep. Use them in
good health.

Now, here's your first set of bills.

I'll forward the rest. I don't have an
address. You demolished my house.

I'll have the messenger to the torch.

I can just see the ad campaign now. New
York, you break it, you buy it.

Mr. Willard, on behalf of the city of
New York, I salute you for your extreme

act of generosity and public service.

Good evening, gentlemen.

I'm ruined.

How can I possibly handle all this
responsibility?

I don't know, Mr. Willard. I don't know.
But trust me, I'm sure I'll come up with

something. Well, you better. Are you
looking at a serious rent increase?

Believe me, Miss Turnstile, I wept when
you didn't win.

But you promised.

When? When we were moving the hotel room
mirror around.

Oh, yeah.

Listen, I tried.

I told the other judges. I said, look at
Miss Turnstile. Look at her qualities.

It's because of me that they made you
miss conviviality.

Well... Oh, come on. Let me prove it.
How about dinner?

Friday night?

Oh, no, no, no.

Saturday night?

Okay. But this time, you buy.

Okay.

This pageant judge thing is great.

You know something? I am booked solid
till next Thursday night, and this is

just the runner's up.

Dan, is that your idea of judging a
beauty pageant, sleeping with the

contestants? With me, everyone gets a
taste of the runway.

Five-minute recess.

Good. Now I have time to feed my cat.

How are you going to get home and back
in five minutes? Oh, I'm not. They're

meeting me here.

Judge, have you seen what's in this
paper?

Wow, Wingo's back.

I mean this classified ad.

For sale.

Starter statue.

Old European charm.

Unique crown.

Entertainer's torch with wet bar.

Needs TLC and sandblasting.

Sounds like a great deal.

But it says, foreign inquiries welcome.

Now, this city cannot allow our Statue
of Liberty to be sold to foreigners.

It's not yours anymore.

And if you want to buy it back, I'm
afraid you have to get in line. You see,

Mr. Willard already has a very nice
offer from the French.

They want to use it as a lawn jockey for
the Eiffel Tower.

Judge. This has gotten way out of
control. Now, I know that I authorized

the sale to Mr.

Willard, but I could lose my job over
this.

And the city could lose a lot of
landmarks.

If I bought the Lincoln Tunnel, I could
stop digging my own.

See what I mean?

You've got to help me.

Well, the council's approached the
bench.

Yes, sir.

Miss Sullivan, it seems that the city is
willing to reclaim its landmarks. Now,

do you suppose that under the right
conditions, your client would be willing

to give the city back its buildings?

Possibly, with the right incentive.

Well, let's not set any precedents here.
I'm still waiting to hear back on the

Bronx.

Incentive? Such as?

Well, to begin with, there's that ugly
tax business.

And then everything you took from him...
Now, wait. That's a physical

impossibility. Forget it, Miss Sullivan.
The city isn't taking our offer

seriously. I guess we better just call
the French and open escrow.

Don't call. You win. I'll draw up the
papers.

There goes my promotion.

My dreams.

My blintzes with the mayor.

Ha, ha, ha.

Mac, what do you think of that? Huh? I
just saved the city and the courthouse.

Does that mean we don't get that pool
table?

So what have you got for me today?

Chipped beef sandwich, three cheese
curls, and a bruised orange.

What happened?

I forgot to put the toilet seat down.

Judge Stone!

Judge Stone, I can't believe it. Your
plan worked? Thank you, everyone. Look,

the city refunded the cost of my house.

It covers everything we are even. Well,
congratulations, Mr.

Willard. I bet you cannot wait to
rebuild your house and settle down and

forget this whole thing.

What are you kidding?

I'm taking this money buying a condo in
Florida.

Oh, yeah, this city's falling apart, I
know.

I used to own it.

It's Miss Mass Transit. I saw your
picture on the bus.

When did you shave your goatee?

Hey, Fielding, remember me?

Frank DiGilli, Chairman Emeritus, Miss
Mass Transit Pageant.

You and me, we got some problems.

Judge Danny, these silly men say that
they're going to take my title away.

They say that I slept with you to get
your vote.

The pageant's reputation's on the line.

Did you put our integrity in the toilet
by doing the bump-bump with this girl?

You wouldn't want me to lose my crown
now, would you, Judge Danny? Tell the

truth, Fielding.

Yeah, Dan, tell the truth.

Maybe you can undo some of the harm
you've done to this prestigious

institution. Hey, you're a fiery one.

You interested in the pageant game?

What do I look like? A definite
contender for Miss Heliport.

Really?

Dan, I think they want an answer.

Fine, I'll tell the truth.

Miss Mass Transit did not win because I
received any special favors.

Oh, come on, Dan. You have the gall to
say you didn't sleep with her.

Oh, no, I slept with her. Aha! See
there?

But I also slept with Miss Crosstown
Bar, Miss Churnstile, and Miss Elevated

Platform.

I mean, when it came to the Miss Mass
Transit pageant, I got off at every

stop.

All the contestants?

Dan, aren't you ashamed of yourself?

should he be?

If he tarnished them all, then it was
obviously a fair contest.

Thank you.