All language subtitles for S2E23-Ed The Beachcomber_Subtítulos01.ENG

[whinnies]

Hello. I'm Mister Ed.

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And no one can talk
to a horse, of course ♪

♪ That is, of course,
unless the horse ♪

♪ Is the famous
Mister Ed ♪

♪ Go right to the source
and ask the horse ♪

♪ He'll give you
the answer ♪

♪ That you'll endorse ♪

♪ He's always
on a steady course ♪

♪ Talk to Mister Ed ♪

Boy, I'm fit to be tied.

Mule head.

Agh.

[grunts]

Imagine that.

Bosh!

The nerve of that editor.

Guys like him
ought to be shot.

I'm never going to read
his paper again.

Ed, what are you doing?

Look at that paper
on the floor.

Read that editorial.

Hmm.

"Horse Becoming Extinct.

No place for equine
in today's world."

Hear what he called me?

Ed, equine, that's just
another name for horse.

Well, I have another name
for that editor. Jerk.

Don't get upset.

The man is just trying to make
a sociological point.

Yeah, some nerve saying
horses are useless.

Ed--

It's vicious propaganda.

A smear campaign.

Ed--

I demand equal time.

Oh, Ed, the man is just
stating a few facts.

Let's face it, the cars
replaced the horse in the city,

and tractors replaced them
in the country.

No matter where you look,
the horse is being replaced.

Yeah? And what does
Matt Dillon ride on?

A gopher?

Ed, you're being
a little too sensitive.

Come.

Oh, sensitive.

Ed, just look at your room.

Aren't you
ashamed of yourself?

No.

Now look, you just calm down.
How about some lunch?

The way I feel right now,
if I ate, I'd get an ulcer.

Come on, Ed. Eat some hay.

I'm not eating a thing

till you let me tell off
that editor.

Ed--

I'm on a hunger strike.

If you're on a hunger strike,
why are you eating?

You don't expect me to start
one on an empty stomach.

Look, you clean this room up.
I'll see you later.

Wilbur, I need your help.

You know that beach property
I bought some time ago?

Don't tell me.
The tide came in.

You want me
to help you look for it.

That's like you.
I need help,

and you throw me
an iron life preserver.

I'm sorry, Rog. What can I do
to help you?

Well, a bunch
of teenage beachcombers

have set up camp on my property
and refuse to budge.

Now all day long
they lie around

playing records,
toasting weenies,

building camp fires,
riding surfboards.

What do you think
I ought to do?

Join them. It sounds
like they're having a ball.

I'm worried, Wilbur.

Now these young beatniks
are destroying the value of my property.

And the worst part of it
is my wife will not let me chase them off.

And you want me
to talk to her?

I very rarely ask
a favor of you, Wilbur.

All right, I'll talk to Kay.

Fine. Now, put this
on the basis of facts.

You are an architect.
You know the value of property.

You can be very persuasive
when you want to be.

True. I don't have much luck
with Carol,

but I do pretty well
with other men's wives.

What I mean is--

I'm sure you've had
a very exciting past,

but tell me some other time.

No.

[Carol]
I think if we raise the hem about 2 inches,

my dress would be
in style again. Don't you think so, Kay?

Well, I don't know, sweetie.

The way they keep raising
and lower the skirts these days,

we might as well wear
Venetian blinds.

[both chuckle]

Just tell her
those beach lizards

have no right squatting
on my property.

They're as good
as unsquatted right now.

Carol, this may be
a little bit too short,

but you're tiny. Maybe you can
get away with it. We'll see.

Kay, I was discussing
the beach situation with Wilbur.

That's right. And I think--

Yes? What do you think,
Wilbur?

I think that, um...

I-- I think--

I think that hem
is much too high.

Oh, but, Wilbur, they're
showing knees this year.

They're also showing
navel oranges.

Oh, honey,
don't be so old-fashioned.

Old-fashioned?
I just don't like my wife

parading her kneecaps
in public.

Don't you think
I'm right, Rog?

Wilbur, the beach.

On the beach, it's all right
to show your kneecaps, but--

What a wonderful idea, Carol.

Why don't we all go
to the beach this Sunday?

Oh, I'd love it.

We could lie around
in the sun and--

Yeah, we could play records.
We could build a bonfire.

We could toast weenies.
We could ride surf boards.

What do you think, Rog?

Those words do have
a familiar ring, don't they.

Oh, oh--

Uh, Kay, I was just
talking to Rog,

and he was talking
about those kids

that are camping
on your beach property.

Is this too high, Wilbur?

Um, hmm.

Oh, but, Wilbur,
it's the style.

I've got to show
a little knee.

Well, all right,
but just up to the dimple.

Wilbur, you were telling Kay

about the beachcombers
on my property.

Oh? Oh, yeah.

Kay, I agree with Rog.
Those kids just don't belong.

That's just their trouble,

people saying
they don't belong.

That's why those kids
feel rejected.

Kay, why don't you listen
to an impartial opinion?

Wilbur, what do you think?

I think one of her knees
is lower than the other.

Oh, it's just the way
I'm standing.

I'm through talking.
It's time for action.

I'll have them evicted
by the police.

[phone rings]

Hello?

Oh, hello, Buzz.

2:00 will be fine.

Goodbye.

Who was that?

Buzz Dixon,
one of those beach kids.

He's coming by at 2:00
to ask you for a favor.

Favor? What favor?

He didn't say.

Maybe he wants
to build some units on your beach property.

- Wilbur--
- I know. Go home.

I'm going to tell off
that editor.

Hello, operator.

Get me Smedly 3-4000

I said Smedly-
S as in Sea Biscuit,

M as in Man-of-war,
E as in Equipoise--

Oh.

Ed, who were you calling?

That smart-aleck editor.

Ed, I told you to forget
about that editorial.

How would you like it
if somebody told you

there was no place for people
in the world today?

I'd become a horse.

Look, Ed, stop worrying
about the editorial.

I'll get you some more hay.

I told you
I'm on a hunger strike.

Come on, fella.

If you don't let me
tell off that editor,

you'll have a fading horse
on your hands.

Ed, if you feel so strongly
about it,

why don't you go down there
and bawl him out in person?

You've got a mouth.
You can talk.

You know I only talk
only to you.

Which is very foolish.

Well, I bet if that editor
heard a horse talking,

he'd stop saying
they were extinct.

If he heard me talk, the shock
would make him extinct.

Take my advice. Eat your lunch.
Forget the whole thing.

I got to mail a letter.

Can I get you some apples?

Well, maybe a few pounds.

Good.

We've got to keep
your strength up while you're on that hunger strike.

Yeah, that's right.
That's right.

Yeah, yeah.

Wilbur, do you mind
if I hide in your barn?

Kay and those beachnik kids
are looking for me.

Oh, Rog, look. If you're
worried about selling that beach property,

I think I may have
a prospect for you.

- A prospect?
- Well, don't get your hopes up.

I spoke to a client of mine,

and he's building a house
at the beach,

and I recommended
your property.

Wonderful.

Oh, and if you close the deal,

I'll give you
the customary 2% commission.

Don't you mean
the customary 5% commission?

Well, it's 5% when you're
dealing with strangers,

but since you and I
are friends, Wilbur--

Just call me Mr. Post.

[Kay]
Oh, Addison.

Now, remember, you don't know
where I am, Mr. Post.

Oh, Wilbur, Wilbur,
my pal Wilbur.

[Kay]
Hi, Wilbur.

Oh, Addison?

Addison,

come with me. I want you
to meet some new people.

They're just darling.

This is my husband
Mr. Addison.

- Hi, daddy-o.
- How do you do, sir?

And our neighbor, Mr. Post.

- How do you do?
- Mr. Post.

And this is Buzz Dixon
and Zelma Beasley.

Aren't you a little early
for trick or treat?

Well, that's my husband,
always making little jokes.

Littlest jokes you ever heard.

[laughs]

I got to mail this letter.

This is for you, Mrs. Addison.
I painted it myself.

Oh, thank you, doll.

Oh, what a wonderful subject.
Why, it's, um, unique.

I know just the spot for it,
over my fireplace.

I know a better spot,
in the fireplace.

I'm a very busy man. What is it
you came to see me about?

Well, Mr. Addison, we came to,
like, ask you a big favor.

We'd like to put up
some lean-tos, like,

on your property so we can
make it like an art colony.

Fine, the rent will be,
like, $250 a month.

Gee, we don't have
that kind of money.

Man, we don't have
any kind of money.

Addison, they're not harming
our property in any way.

That's right.
We're not taking any sand,

and the ocean is
just where it always was.

That happens to be
a very exclusive piece of property.

And no one is going to buy
if they find it overrun

by a gang
of waterlogged adolescents.

There it is again--

rejection, rejection,
rejection.

[Buzz]
Cast out by a world we didn't make.

You'll be cast out by the police
if you don't get off my lot.

Addison, please.

Aren't you kids being
a little over-dramatic?

I mean, having such
a pessimistic attitude at such a young age.

Oh, we dig pessimism.
We love it.

Would you want to, like,
hear a poem Zelma wrote?

I think I can, like,
resist the temptation.

Uh, we'd like to hear it,
sweetie.

If you'll excuse me.

I call it

"Rejected, Neglected,
Befuddled, Bemuddled."

[Buzz]
Oh, it's a gasser.

A nothing. A zero.
A hole in the cheese.

The scene can't be made

when you're
in the deep freeze.

Rejected, neglected,
befuddled, bemuddled.

The moment is wild.

We're blown off our course.

That's why our youth feels
extinct like the horse.

[Buzz]
Do you dig it, pops?

I'd rather bury it.

You take my advice
and vacate my property by midnight tonight.

Gee, we're holding
our first exhibit tomorrow.

We sent out a lot of postcards.

Do you think you could
talk Mr. Addison

into letting us stay
a few more days?

Oh, I'll try.

I've talked him into letting me
stay for 20 years.

But you're not sure, huh?

Well, I'm afraid I couldn't
promise you anything.

The story of our life.

Rejection,
rejection, rejection.

There's no place
for us kids today.

Oh, dear. Come on, kids.

I'll give you a piece of cake
and some milk.

And there's no place
for us horses today.

We're rejected,

neglected,

befuddled,

bemuddled.

[sighs]

Ed, what's going on here?

Just call me
Ed the beachcomber.

What started all this?

Those kids
that were here yesterday?

Yep, we're birds of a feather.

Rejected, neglected,
befuddled, bemuddled.

Oh, what do you know?
A beatnik horse.

[chuckles]

What got you started
on this painting kick anyway?

It's therapy to relieve
my depression.

Hmm. Well, let's have a look
here, huh?

Yeah, that's-- that's
depressing, all right.

What is it supposed to be?

I'm calling it
"The Horseless Headman."

"The Horseless Headman"?

That's right.

The whole world is going
to be horseless soon.

Ed, look, I keep telling you
that's just an editorial.

Ed, there will be a place
in this world for horses

if I have to make it myself.

I'm real down,
beat, like, depressed.

Neglected, rejected,
befuddled, bemuddled.

I can see you need a little
bit of cheering up, Ed.

Come on. Let's just
put these things away.

I'll take you for a nice ride
in the park.

Fresh air will do you
a world of good. What do you say, Ed?

Poem-- "Ode the Life."

Life is a feedbag
without any oats.

A stable
that's empty and bare.

I search for the hay
in an empty corral,

but how can I find
what's not there?

[chuckles]

Henry Horseworth Longfellow.

I can tell by your attitude
you're in no mood for a ride,

so I'll come back
when you're feeling better.

That's right. Reject me.

I am not rejecting you.

Yeah, holler,
but, like, don't hit.

I'm, like, not hollering.

I just expect you to act
like a normal, human horse.

[Ed groans]

I don't have to stay
where I'm not wanted.

I belong with the outcasts.

Where's my hat?

Hey, thanks a lot.

Yeah.

Thanks, pal.

Hey, where did he come from?

I don't know, but he sure looks,
like, way out.

What's the matter, fella?
Are you lost?

I'd love to get him on canvas.

He'd make a great subject.

Aw, you couldn't
get him to pose.

Man, he's crazy.

Say, man, I think
that horse reads us.

Boy, you said it, daddy-o.

Put it back, Addison.

Kay, you know
this is a monstrosity.

Oh, no, it isn't.
It's a form of art.

So is a shrunken head,
but not in my living room.

Uh, would you rather have

my mother's picture
back there?

I'd rather have
a shrunken head.

Hey, where did you get
my old ukulele?

Oh, I found it up in the attic

when I went up to get
that picture frame.

Remember the last time
you played it?

The last--

Oh, golly, I don't know. Gee.

Boy, I know I was just a kid.

We were both kids.

Used to play it at the beach,
remember?

Hmm.

Ah, those were the days.

Hmm. Remember
how you and Freddie Dawson

used to fight about who should
rub the suntan oil on my back?

Mm-hmm.

You wound up being
the slipperiest girl on the beach.

You always managed
to get a good grip.

Yeah.

I was kind of a wolf,
wasn't I?

Right down
to your big, pointed earlobes.

Oh, you used to call me
Legs McCarthy.

Mmm.

Remember how we used to sit
around the campfire,

our whole gang, trying to solve
the world's problems?

Hmm. We couldn't
even solve our own.

Your father wanted
you to be a doctor,

and you wanted--
What did you want to be, doll?

Nothing.

I just wanted to lie around
the beach and rub your back.

Know what you were, angel?

Just a teenage rebel.

Rebel?

I was
the whole Confederate Army.

I guess every
generation of kids

feels rebellious
and misunderstood.

Yeah, I guess so.

Like those kids
on our beach property?

You're pretty foxy,
aren't you?

All right, until I sell
the property,

the kids can stay.

Oh, thank you, doll.

You're just a big, fluffy,
old honey bunny.

Yeah, I guess that's what I am,
aren't I?

Kay, remember this?

♪ Daisy, Daisy ♪

♪ Give me your answer do ♪

♪ I'm half crazy ♪

♪ All for the love of you ♪

♪ It won't be
a stylish marriage ♪

♪ I can't afford a-- ♪

[doorbell rings]

I'll get it, Legs.

Wilbur, my boy, come in.
Come in, boy.

Kay and I were just recalling
some of the old songs.

Would you like
to sing along with us?

No, thanks, Mitch.

Rog.

Actually, I don't feel
much like singing

because, see, I just got some
bad news in a business deal.

Forget about business, Wilbur.
It's only money.

What could be so important?

Well, the client I had
for your beach property

just backed out of the deal.

I'll kill myself.

Rog, wait a minute.

Like you said,
it's only money.

Only money? What do you
think I live for?

Well, why did he back out,
Wilbur?

It's, uh--
It's those beach kids.

You see, now that they've
made the place a hangout,

he figures they may
keep coming back.

I'm going down to drive
those parasites off my property

lock, stock, and sunglasses.

Relax, Rog.

Um, why don't we sing
some more of the old songs?

Out of my way, Legs.

Not bad, Zelma,
but I don't get the message.

It lacks, uh, vagueness.

There's something missing,
like, you know.

Hey, man, that horse gave
the picture what it needed,

clouds.

Or depression.

- Misery.
- Defeat.

Despair.

All right, young man.

Oh, hi, Mr. Addison.

Hey, here's the owner
of this property.

Get a shot of him.

Never mind that.

Hello, sir.
I'm with the Valley Globe.

Are you the owner
of this property?

That's right.

Well, sir, you should
be proud of yourself.

The kids here would be
right back out in the streets

if it weren't
for people like you.

How do you spell
your name, sir?

Roger Addison. A-D-D-I-S-O-N.

A-D-D-I-S-O-N. Got it.

Now, Mr. Addison,
have you always been interested in youth work?

Youth--
Oh, yes, indeed I have.

Yes, indeed.

The welfare of our teenagers

has always been
a very deep concern of mine.

That is why I have
dedicated myself

to making them feel
wanted, needed, appreciated.

You're not writing.

Oh.

It is my firm conviction

that our youth needs
love and understanding.

These boys and girls have been
neglected much too long.

Rejected much too long.

Befuddled much too long.

You've been out
in the sun much too long.

Come on, Rog.
I'll take you home.

Wilbur, please,
I'm talking to the press.

Can't you see?

Now, then,

to help them overcome
this feeling of rejection,

I try to give them a feeling
of accomplishment

by encouraging
their art endeavors.

As a matter of fact,
I have one of their paintings hanging over my fireplace

replacing a portrait
of my beloved mother-in-law.

Hey, that pretty good.

That fruit looks
almost good enough to eat.

That isn't fruit, man.
That's a horse.

A horse?

Yeah, a palomino.

With big, dark glasses
and a floppy straw hat?

Yeah, man. How did you guess?

Oh, well, if I were a horse,

I wouldn't dress
any other way.

Which way did he go?

Over there some place.

Thank you very much.

A kook.

Ed, what are you
doing out here?

I don't like you running
away from home. Why did you do it?

I'm extinct, Wilbur. Useless.

Ed, remember this--

anyone who is loved
is never useless.

Well, then you
really love me, huh?

Well, of course.

Ed, you're like my own kid.

[laughs]

Then take me home, Daddy.

[laughs]

Let's go, Ed.

[grunts]

Oh.

Oh, boy, just look
at all this sand.

Now hold still. I want to get
the dirt off your coat.

Oh, forget it, Wilbur.

Let's send it to the cleaners.

You're in a pretty good mood
now, aren't you?

Yep.

Glad you got over
that rejection business.

Well, I'd look pretty silly

lying on
a psychiatrist's couch.

Now, Ed, I want you
to promise me

that you won't
run away from home again.

Uh, you want to hear
a little poem I just made up?

Okay.

[clears throat]

Uh, life is a feedbag
overflowing with oats.

A bag that should
never be shut.

And a horse that would leave
a sweet guy like you

must be some kind of a nut.

[both laugh]

You like it?

Oh, it's all right.

[both laugh]

To the left and higher.

Higher.

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And no one can talk
to a horse, of course ♪

♪ That is, of course,
unless the horse ♪

♪ Is the famous Mister Ed ♪

♪ Go right to the source
and ask the horse ♪

♪ He'll give you
the answer ♪

♪ That you'll endorse ♪

♪ He's always
on a steady course ♪

♪ Talk to Mister Ed ♪

♪ People yakkity-yak
a streak ♪

♪ And waste
your time of day ♪

♪ But Mister Ed
will never speak ♪

♪ Unless he has
something to say ♪

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And this one will talk
till his voice is hoarse ♪

♪ You never heard
of a talking horse? ♪

♪ Well, listen to this ♪

[Mister Ed]
♪ I am Mister Ed ♪

Closed-Captioned By
J.R. Media Services, Inc. Burbank, CA

[Man]
This has been a Filmways television presentation.