Original subtitles

Finally, I'd like to thank our hostesses tonight,

Dorothy,

Rose and Blanche.

With people like them to support me,

I'm proud just to be running for city councilman.

So good night, and remember my slogan: Gil Kessler for city councilman.

- You call that a slogan? - Uh, excuse us.

Easy on the arm, Dorothy. You break it, you pay for it.

You promised you'd stay in your room until the meeting was over.

Who am I - ALF?

- I was hungry. - You were spying.

- So what? He's a wimp, Dorothy. - Oh, Ma.

For your information, Gil Kessler is a very bright man,

an honest and devoted civic leader.

And probably the biggest wimp I've ever known in my life.

There's something else I don't like about him.

- What? - I don't know, it's a hunch.

I can't put my finger on it, but if I could, I would have to wash it.

Ma, do me one favour - stay here until we're finished.

I can't believe you think your own mother would embarrass you.

It's not that, Ma.

It's that, Ma.

Well, I'd better skedaddle. You know, my wife is out of town.

I'm gonna be up half the night, trying to pick out a tie-sock-hanky combo.

This is just the behind-the-scenes excitement I was hoping to be part of.

- Good night. - Good night, Gil.

Well, I think we ought to be proud. We threw one heck of a party.

Don't you guys just love being involved in politics?

Oh, I haven't had this much fun since I worked on the Dewey campaign.

Rose, you worked for Thomas Dewey?

No, Melvil Dewey.

The founder of the Dewey decimal system.

You know, your Gil Kessler doesn't stand a chance of winning.

- Ah, who says? - The Miami Post.

The Miami Journal. The Miami Tribune. And Miami's own Sophia Petrillo.

Ma, he's way behind in the polls,

but the election is two days away, and a lot can happen in two days.

I for one am gonna do everything in my power to get Gil elected.

Fine. You can start by taking this folder he left over to his house.

On the other hand, why should I deprive Rose of a chance to be of service?

All right, but you have to wash these dishes.

Honey, those dishes are dirty.

OK, I'll deliver the folder.

I guess there's no sacrifice too great for a cause you really believe in.

I just hope that big, stupid jerk reimburses me for gas and mileage.

There goes a great American.

I woke you up, didn't I?

And I'd better have a good reason. Well, I do - I got a great idea for Gil's campaign.

I'm making these bird feeders with his name on them to send around.

And you think that's a dumb idea. You feel like taking this bird feeder away from me.

And smashing it with this hammer.

Like this.

Holy smoke.

Holy toledo.

- Holy mackerel. - What, Ma?

Nothing.

What is it, Sophia?

- What, Rose? What? - They caught Gil Kessler having an affair.

- Oh, you're kidding. With whom? - Well, they don't know her name, but look.

They hid in the bushes and took this picture of her from behind,

going into his house.

I don't believe that...

Wait a minute. That looks like Blanche's red dress.

And those look like her red shoes.

And aren't they her diamond earrings and gold bracelet?

That little floozy stole Blanche's clothes.

It's like having Agatha Christie right here in our kitchen.

Rose, Blanche is that little floozy.

You... you mean he...

- She's at the 50. - They...

- The 40. - She...

The 30.

Oh.

Blanche, it's you.

Oh, you're getting so good at that, Rose. Now, who's that over there?

No, I mean right here.

Oh, my God.

My backside is spread all across the front page. How could they do that?

They probably used a wide-angle lens.

If I'd known I was being photographed, I would have turned around and smiled.

Listen, ruining a man's career for a one-night stand

is hardly something to make light of.

Oh, now, wait a minute. You girls don't believe this?

I'm not denying that's me in the photo, but I am denying that anything happened.

I just dropped off his folder.

Then why does it say here that you were in his house for two hours?

We were talking.

Then why does it say, "The explosion was so great,

it shattered windows in the building next door"?

Rose, that's an article about an earthquake in Guatemala.

Girls, I dropped off the folder, talked for two hours,

helped him pick out his tie-sock-hanky combo and came home.

Now, nothing else happened.

I swear. OK?

- OK. - OK.

Now, how are we gonna help him get out of this mess?

- I ought to call the newspaper. - Wait.

I think you should let Gil handle it himself.

The paper says he's having a press conference this afternoon.

- You shouldn't do anything until then. - OK, fine. I'll wait.

Look at this picture of Kessler. There's a secret behind those eyes.

Trust my hunch on this - I'm never wrong.

Oh, come on, Ma. Remember your hunch about your nephew Angelo?

You said one day he'd be pope.

Dorothy, you gotta pay attention. I said one day he'd sell dope.

What do you think he went to Attica for? The volleyball program?

- Bruno Bonafiglio. - Ma, I was asleep.

So was I. That's when it came to me. Picture this - Sicily, 1922.

The village is in a terrible wine crisis. It's the peak of the wine season.

All our grape stompers are ravaged by an outbreak of athlete's foot.

Soon, the Chianti has a green hue and tastes like Desenex.

They call in Sicily's foremost podiatrist, Bruno Bonafiglio.

He's the one who prescribed arch supports for Mussolini.

Must have really helped his lower back when they hung him by his heels.

Forget him. I'm talking about Bruno Bonafiglio.

I take one look at him, and I have a hunch he's trouble. But nobody believes me.

So what happens? He cures everybody, and wine sales skyrocket.

Wait, wait a minute. Ma, Ma.

Unless I'm missing something, your hunch was wrong.

My hunches are never wrong.

Now, everyone is living high on the hog and eating rich foods.

The next thing you know, there's a gout epidemic. Nobody can stomp grapes.

And Bruno makes a killing selling orthopaedic sandals.

Don't tell me - he went to America and changed his name to Dr Scholl.

No. Actually, he developed a foot fetish

and suffocated when he shoved his head in a lady's rubber boot.

Ma, don't ever wake me up again.

Quick, turn on the television. Gil's press conference is about to start.

I'm nervous. I hope they're not hard on him.

I wouldn't be too sure of that. Look at all those reporters.

Yeah. There's Charlie Thompson and Fred Leoni and Mike Devlin.

- I had lunch at the press club once. - Only once?

Gosh, it took me two years to learn everybody's name on Eight Is Enough.

Hush, hush. It's about to start.

We'll find out. Here come the candidate and his campaign manager.

Good afternoon. I'm here to respond to the media speculation

that I am having an affair with an unidentified woman.

I have been the subject of many scurrilous, slanderous

and downright malicious rumours in my political career.

But this rumour is the worst kind of rumour. This is...

a true rumour.

It actually happened, just like you said.

Well, not with me, it didn't.

Mr Kessler, who was the woman?

I can't reveal her identity under any circumstances.

Independent sources have identified the woman as Blanche Devereaux.

Oh, please. What sources?

Sorry, Blanche.

I don't believe this. He just lied.

Dorothy? Rose?

Well, don't you girls believe me?

Sophia?

I believe you, Blanche, absolutely.

Hello?

I need the number for People magazine.

The department that buys stories about politicians who sleep with sleazy broads.

Don't worry - it's not about you.

Dorothy? Rose?

Talk to me. You girls have got to believe me.

We believed you once, Blanche. We're not falling for it again.

- Falling for what? I told you the truth. - Blanche, come off it.

You expect us to believe that Gil was lying on television, in front of a million people?

People lie on television, Dorothy. They do it on 60 Minutes all the time.

He's a married man running for election.

Why would he say he had an affair if he hadn't?

I'm sure I don't know. And I also don't know why you just assume I'm guilty.

Give me one good reason why I would lie to you.

You're embarrassed because you seduced him.

You're scared and you're guilty because you've ruined his campaign.

Three good reasons.

- Oh, shut up, Rose. - Shut up, Rose.

Hello?

Yes, this is Blanche Devereaux.

Yes, that Blanche Devereaux. And, no, I did not. Absolutely not.

I will tell it to a judge, yell it from the highest mountain.

I will swear to it on a stack of bibles.

- Now, did that sound like a liar? - No.

It sounded like Jim and Tammy Faye on Nightline.

Hello?

Yes, this is Blanche, and how did you get this number?

Better yet, why am I even talking to you? I don't like you. Matter of fact, I hate you.

You can tear up my number and go climb back under your slimy rock

with all the rest of your slimy friends. And don't you ever call here again.

Dorothy, call Stan.

Blanche, why don't you admit what you did? You made a mistake.

You live your life a certain way, and now you're paying for it.

You are assuming that I'm guilty because of my past? Well, that is not fair.

Listen, I'm in trouble here. This isn't funny.

You're right, you're right. This is not funny. It is sad.

You couldn't come to us and tell us the truth. And you still can't.

Don't do this to me. You're my two best friends.

How do we know you're telling the truth about that?

Well, I guess you don't.

- Excuse me, miss. You can't go in there. - Oh, the hell I can't.

Ah.

I ought to kick your butt from here to Tallahassee.

- I'm sorry, Blanche. - You're sor...

Do you have reporters badgering you or roommates calling you a liar?

You're the damn liar.

I wouldn't sleep with you if you were the last man in creation.

- Why did you lie? - The reason is...

- Why? - It all started...

- Why? - Nobody ever listens to me.

Quit whining, you wimp, and tell me why you lied.

That is the reason. Nobody ever listens to me. They never have.

I'm a wimp, just like you said.

Until today. When the newspaper printed that story about my having an affair,

people stopped thinking I was a wimp and started listening.

I couldn't tell them it was a mistake.

Are you trying to tell me that people like you better now

because they think you went to bed with a gorgeous, intelligent woman?

Here, see for yourself. This is today's poll.

I never expected that they would figure out it was you in that picture.

- I felt terrible when they did. - How do you think I feel?

People think I slept with you.

Blanche...

all my life people have looked right past me.

You know, when I was growing up, the first day back at school every year,

half the other kids always thought I was new in town.

I had to bring in a yearbook to prove that they were wrong.

But all the same, I always felt that

deep inside me was a great man trying to get out.

So I went into politics. And people kept looking right past that great man.

Until today.

As crazy as it sounds, I've got a real chance now to win that election.

- Because you lied. - But is that such a high price to pay?

Gil, I don't know much about politics, but I do know a thing or two about men,

and I know what kind of man you are.

You're an honest man. That's why we all believed in you.

But now you started lying, and you're just like so many other politicians - dishonest.

If you win this election, it won't mean a hill of beans,

cos it won't be you winning.

You'll never be a great man, Gil, without being an honest man.

You think about that.

Boy, this is exciting.

Just think, in less than 24 hours, Gil Kessler could be city councilman.

I'd love to get excited, Rose, but no matter what happens,

I'm gonna get stuck cleaning out that peeing-angel punch bowl.

I've been chatting with your boy Kessler.

Give me another hour - I guarantee I'll have his secret figured out.

What secret?

You got cheese in your ears? I said give me another hour.

Oh, get away from me, you bloodhounds. I have nothing to say to you.

Except this - from now on, when my name appears in print,

it better read, "Blanche Devereaux, comma, 39."

Well, she has a lot of nerve showing up here tonight.

- Let's try to be polite, Rose. - OK.

Hi, Blanche.

Blanche, I said hello.

I don't normally speak to people who call me a liar.

Now, look, Blanche, we're in public now. There's no reason to be hostile.

Yes, there is. I don't like you.

And horizontal stripes make you look like Roger Ebert.

Do you really wanna put this on a childish level of name-calling?

- Yes. - So do I.

- Traitor. - Tramp.

- Backstabber. - Homewrecker.

Indian giver.

I'm sorry. I just got caught up in the moment.

Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention,

I have a few words I'd like to say.

First off, I wanna thank all of you.

This has been a great campaign.

Tomorrow at this time, I could actually be your city councilman.

But I don't wanna be your city councilman unless I can win this job honestly,

and there is something that I have not been honest with you about.

Blanche Devereaux and I never had an affair.

I only said that to improve my image.

Ha-ha-ha-ha.

Blanche is too good a person to be used that way.

In fact, she's the one who made me realize how important honesty is.

And that's why I'm going to be honest with you about something else, too.

I'm not who you think I am.

In 1968, I had an operation.

Until that time, I lived life as part-time stenographer

and mild-mannered housewife Anna Maria Bonaduce.

What?

I can't believe it.

What do you say about my hunches now? Five more minutes, I would have had it.

Ma... Ma, how could you know? No one knew.

Please, look at his nose. Of course he's Italian.

I'm still confused about the operation Gil Kessler had.

Is the man asleep during it?

I think so, Rose.

And what about the parts they put on? Do they test them first?

Of course, Rose. You know, like windshield wipers.

So they work?

- I assume so, yes. - Ah.

What are they made of?

Silly Putty, Rose.

I don't know, Rose. I just wanna forget the whole incident.

It's been a terrible night. I am very upset.

Because Gil dropped out of the election and Blanche hates us.

No, I'm upset because they haven't rerun The Facts of Life Goes to Australia.

I wouldn't be surprised if Blanche never speaks to us again.

She'd certainly have every reason not to. We did a terrible thing, not believing her.

We might as well get used to the fact that she's gonna be mad at us for a long time.

Hi, girls. How y'all doing?

Blanche, aren't you mad?

- Not anymore. - We did a terrible thing.

You should stay mad at us for a long, long time.

You should make us grovel, eat dirt,

beg for forgiveness, give us the silent treatment.

Rose, if you give us the silent treatment, I will eat dirt.

I couldn't stay mad at you girls. You know, I did some thinking

and I realized I was as much to blame for all this as you all were.

- How? - Oh, by talking so much.

As you know, I've always talked a lot about my men,

and, well, sometimes I've stretched the truth just a little.

It's an old Southern tradition, storytelling.

Just cos you didn't have a good time is no reason to bore friends with a dull story.

So you embellish it, you add a little shading, a little colour, a little hot tub.

I guess it finally caught up with me.

But I do think I've learned my lesson.

Can we have a hug and forget this ever happened?

You bet we can. Come here, you two.

Ohh.

- Oh, I'm glad we're friends again. - Oh, me too.

Listen, Blanche, now that we have you telling the truth, um...

would you tell us the truth about, uh... Bob Fredericks?

True. Absolutely true.

How about Howard Asher?

True.

Eric Murdoch?

True, true. He had a twin brother.

Hey, would I lie to my two best friends?