The Wild Wild West (1965–1969): Season 2, Episode 8 - The Night of the Bottomless Pit - full transcript

The assignment for James West is to find a fellow agent who is imprisoned on Devil's Island. Getting imprisoned himself, West is given lashes and sent into a pit where he finds Vincent Reed, the agent he was to free.

Let's go.


You like to swim, eh?

I slipped. Don't do it again,

if you know what's good for you.

Keep it nice and low,
Monsieur Couteau.

But I don't get it.

He's letting 'em take
him to Devil's Island.

Yeah. So far, so good.

But why would he want
to spend 20 years in hell?

Probably just a whim.

"Emile Croulac."

Emile Croulac. To the road gang.

Now then, look alive.

"Henri Couteau."

Henri Couteau.

To the...

To the commandant?

What would the commandant
want with vermin like you?

To join him for
a cup of mint tea

or watercress
sandwich, I suppose.

And make my usual
undercover report

about the inefficiency
of prison personnel.

Alors, I myself

will conduct you
to the commandant.

That's more like it.

Look alive.

How do you do, commandant?

It's a nice place you have here.

Take it off.

Get into that.

Thank you. It's, uh...

It's a definite improvement.

Odd. I thought you'd look
older, Monsieur Couteau.

I'm sorry to disappoint
you. Maybe in time.

Ah, yes.


We, um... We have a great
quantity of that around here.

Oh, forgive my lapse of manners.

Th... That is Cochon,

my social director.

And I am Gustave Mauvais,

commandant of
our little retreat.

Our clients usually arrive
at our recreational center

for, oh, various reasons.

Murder most foul, for instance.

And of course, there's arson.

Embezzlement, if it's
on a grand enough scale.

But yours, monsieur,

your offense, monsieur,

was indeed a
monstrous fall from grace.

Oh, it, uh, wasn't
as bad as all that.

You, uh... You think not, huh?

"'France's Crown of
Thorns: Devil's Island',

"beginning a sensational exposé

by that celebrated
journalist, Henri Couteau."

You went so far as to argue
that the colony be abolished,

and to propose a national trial

for that arch villain,
Gustave Mauvais.

It seemed like a pretty good
idea at the time, Mauvais.

Instead of which you
found yourself on trial

for impugning the
honor of your nation.

The verdict was,
um, never in doubt.

Well, I could plead
youthful high spirits.

May I see the rest of that...

Aghh! Egh!

Never reach out
your filthy hand to me.


I'm beginning to.


I hope I'm not
interrupting, Gustave.

Oh, nonsense, my dear.

Come in and have a better
look at the young man.

What... What young man?

I just stopped by to
ask for your opinion.

My gown for the reception:

Uh, the gold brocade
or the beaded one?

Well, they're both
very lovely, my dear.

Whichever you pref...

Fine-featured, hard-muscled,

and that engaging tousled hair

just made to run your
fingers through, huh?

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Oh, forgive me, my dear Camille.

May I present our latest
guest, Monsieur Couteau.

My, um... My devoted wife.

I certainly didn't mean to...

To interrupt.

For you, monsieur,

my wife's entrance was
a most fortunate reprieve.

Let me illustrate
how close you were

to a violent death.


the bench.

Impressive, is it not, monsieur?

You see, when Cochon
was a young man,

he was unfortunate enough

to lose his right leg
in a train accident.

Don't tell me.

When it came time for him
to choose an artificial limb,

he chose one made of iron.


One, um...

One final word, monsieur.

You saw what
happened to the bench.

The time will come
when I shall say,


Monsieur Couteau."

And then Cochon's foot of doom

will come whistling your way.

But, uh... But
that time is not yet.


In the meantime, we
must make sure that, uh...

That you enjoy
our island facilities

to the fullest.

The fresh air, pleasant sun,

and all those
joyful little tasks

waiting to be performed.

Until then,


Take it off.

Here we go again.

I'm looking for a
prisoner named Reed.

Get out of here, mon.

Hey, you know a
prisoner named Reed?

Thanks, mate.

Some of these blokes

got a bloody lot to
learn about manners.

So I noticed.

If I can ever return the favor,

just give me the nod.

You might be able to.

Ever hear of a
prisoner named Reed?

Don't recall the name.

Formal handles
get lost in this hole.


Hold everything.

I recall now.

He got hauled off to the pit.

What's that?

Halfway house
to hell, that's what.

Yeah. Dropped out of
sight about two weeks ago.

Anyone buried in
the pit that long...

"Kindly omit
flowers," as they say.

Really, Monsieur Couteau.

I'm afraid you're rather
an unsettling influence

on our other guests.

I respectfully submit
that you order this...

This man to step aside.

Request denied.

You realize, of course,

that the men pushing that roller

are traveling blind.


Perhaps that is why,

in spite of all our precautions,

accidents continue to happen.

Now you order the
men to stop that roller

before I soil you for good
with my dirty little hands.

Cochon! Stop it!

Agh! Agh! Aghh!

Well, Monsieur Couteau,

you had us all
dancing to your tune.

Now let's see about
paying the piper.

I think 20 lashes for
our gallant young friend

to start with,

then a prolonged
stay in the pit.

Have a pleasant stay,
Monsieur Couteau.

Vincent Reed, I believe.

Why, yes.

Who are you?

I've been looking for you.

Nature's poultice mud.

Oh, you got some
jim-dandy welts here.

Old Cochon himself must
have taken a hand in it.

Nothing but the best
for me, I always say.

My feelings precisely.

By the way,

you know my name.

What'd you say yours was?


Henri Couteau.

♪ Old master Jip ♪

♪ He liked his nip ♪

♪ Of rum and cowslip brandy ♪

♪ He'd... ♪

How's the rest of that go?

♪ He'd polish off his cup ♪

♪ And then he'd sup ♪

♪ On beets ♪

♪ And licorice candy ♪

That's right, isn't it?

You couldn't be righter.

You're James West?

Oh, good Lord. Heh.

I... I can't tell you. I...

There was no hope for
me. I made myself accept it.

Department wasn't
gonna let you down,

especially after
you kept your cover

all through that
rigged trial in France

and Devil's Island.

I wasn't so sure,

as my date with
Matilda the guillotine

grew closer and...

Yeah, I'm a lucky fella.

The big day is...

approximately 18 hours from now.

18 hours from now.

Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!


What's that?

Le Fou.

He's been here too long.

Well, in his own way,

he's managed to
escape his environment.

I almost envy him.

Don't envy him.

You'll be doing the
same thing very shortly.

What do you mean?

How? It'll take some
kind of a miracle.

Nowadays, miracles come in
the oddest shapes and sizes.

♪ Old master Jip ♪

♪ He liked his nip ♪

♪ Of rum and cowslip brandy ♪

♪ He'd polish off a cup ♪

♪ And then he'd sup ♪

♪ On beets ♪

♪ And licorice candy ♪

On your feet.

Stand at attention.

"And so the
bearer of this letter,

"Pierre Gaspard, is hereby
assigned to guard duty

"at the prison on Devil's Island

for a term at the discretion
of the commandant."


Pierre Gaspard.

That salute is just about
what I'd have expected

from one with
your service record.

My record?

Is something wrong with
my record, commandant?

"Fighting in barracks,

"theft from company
funds, drunk on duty,


"insolence to superiors.

"discharged from
the Foreign Legion

for the good of the service."

Oh, that is quite
an accomplishment,

to be thrown out of
the Foreign Legion.

Yes, well...

Well, uh, just a
knack, I suppose.

All in all,

this is one of the worst
service records I've ever seen.

It's a testimony
to your treachery,

cowardice, cruelty

and dishonesty.

You should do well here.

Thank you, commandant.

I know I'll like it here,

very much.


Of course, we
can't hope to rival

the metropolitan establishments.

No, no, not at all.
Your place is charming,

absolutely charming.

Thank you, Gaspard.

And we do have
our little diversions

from time to time.

I hope you noticed
Matilda in the square.

Oh, who could overlook
something that beautiful?

Well, when do I start?

Oh, there's the rub.

Yeah. There's still
the nagging question

of your suitability
for guard duty,

but that's easily settled.

You see, um,

I suffer from an
embarrassment of riches.


There are, uh,

two other applicants
for the same job.


Both of them, like yourself,
with sterling characters

and the kind of
impressive records

that our organization
absolutely demands.

However, we have an amusing way

of settling these
little contretemps.

The solution?

The Chamber of Togetherness.

The other two gentlemen
are already inside waiting.

You will enter, the
door will be bolted shut,

and, um,

after an appropriate
period of meditation,

one of you will emerge.

That one gets the job.


It seems eminently fair to me.


Hi, fellas.

First we get rid of
that one, agreed?


Oh, now gentlemen, gentlemen.


why don't we all
just sit down calmly,

discuss our differences
like sane, reasonable people

who are prepared to
face their differences

without resorting to anything
like physical violence?

This poor Gaspard.


It's a pity in a way.

On the other hand,

I never really quite trusted
him in spite of his record.

I seem to detect some
lingering shred of decency.

Ah, then you were
saying, commandant?

Welcome home, Gaspard.

♪ Old master Jip
He liked his nip ♪

♪ Of rum or cowslip brandy ♪

♪ He'd polish off a cup ♪

♪ And then he'd sup ♪

♪ On beets ♪

♪ And licorice randy ♪

That was... That was...

Oh. Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.


You down there.

On your feet and
snap into a salute.

I have seen filthy
pits in my time,

but this pit...

Pound for pound
and smell for smell,

this is the filthiest

and least fragrant
hole in the lot.

Of all the places I've seen.

Now, listen.

By tomorrow morning,

I expect to see it
not merely spick,

but span.


What's the matter,

don't you like hard-boiled eggs?


What is?

Well, the kind of punishment
the authorities give out here.

A man tries to escape,

and ends up in milady's boudoir.

You've got it all wrong,
Monsieur Couteau.

You're not being punished
for trying to escape.

I've been trying to
escape for years.

Ah, I'm beginning
to see daylight.

Then the exciting
episode of the guards

foiling my attempt to
escape was, uh, staged,

shall we say?

Of course.

Your escape merely
saved them the trouble

of releasing you and
bringing you here.


Not really.

I've never found
it too difficult

to win men's loyalty.

Somehow I believe you.

Join forces with me.

We'll escape together.

Nothing personal, madame, but...

Oh, please,

call me Camille.

As I was saying,

when it comes to breaking
out of dungeons, Camille,

I prefer to work alone.

Well, you're strong,

probably brave too,

but you can't escape alone.

Too many have tried and failed.

I can arrange for a boat, maps,

money to buy provisions.

Everything, it would seem,
except your husband's blessing.

But be assured, my dear, your...

Your spirited appeal
moves me deeply.

Uh, let me guess.

You resent another man
in your wife's, uh, boudoir.

It would be useless to deny it.

You see, periodically,
I allow my loving wife

the, uh...

The indulgence to think

that she's about to
make her escape.

You're not the
first young stalwart

she's tried to enlist
in her campaign.

Gustave, let me go, please.

You've got a whole island
full of people you can torture.

You don't need me.

Fire ants.


So named because their
bite calls to mind pincers,

heated red-hot in a fire.

I'll let you know if your
description's accurate.

Most kind of you.

This is the regular route

the little beasties
take at break of day.

Should anything happen
to be in their path...

Like an object like me.


As in the case of,
uh, Hercule, here,

another of my wife's
would-be rescuers.

Oh, I... I assure you, monsieur,

it will be a most
memorable way to die.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening.

May I show you something?

Uh, yes, I was wondering
if you had anything

like a music box or
something similar,

suitable as a gift
for a young lady.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

The only musical mechanisms
we have are in watches.

Oh, well, I'd have
no need for that.

You see, I already
have one of those.

What a fascinating watch. Heh.

May I see it? Of course.

Are you, uh,

interested in watches?

Oh, yes.

I too, am a collector.

Fancy this for a coincidence.

My watch plays
the very same tune.

What about the boat?

All set, Mr. Gordon.

It's waiting in this cove,

stocked with provisions,
maps, instruments,

as per your department's
list of desiderata.

Oh, as a matter of fact,

I think it would be
much too expensive.

You see, uh,

I'd have difficulty
in shipping it as well.

It's your Mr. West.

I think you'd best attend
to him very quickly indeed.

That was playing
it close, Artie.

Those ants were just about
to give me a working over.

Listen, I'm sure it's a
fascinating story, Mr. West,

but there's still the
matter of getting Reed

out of the pokey before
Cochon comes to.

Can you walk?

Not very well.
Let's try running.


So far so good.

Have a little bit more of a
prisoner shuffle in your walk,

will you, James?

That's better.


Keep an eye peeled for trouble.

All right, you down
there, look alive.

What is it?

Commandant wants
to talk with you.

When he's through with you...

Exactly what is it
that I want to say

to Mr. Reed?

Gentlemen, did you
ever get the feeling

things were closing in on you?

Good morning, Mr. West.

Did I get that right?

Yes, sir, James West.

And this one is Artemus Gordon.

As I told you, all
three are members

of the United States
Secret Service.

Thank you, Le Fou.

Le Fou.

Can that be our Le Fou

that we became so
fond of in our little pit?

So it is,

but, uh, rather than
strain your credulity...

Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!
Whoo! Whoo! Whoooo!


That's our Le Fou, all right.

Cleaned up very
nicely, didn't he?

Yes, and, uh, now that
we've settled that question,

may I remind you, Mr. West,

of a promise I once made you.

Perhaps you recall.

Something about
Cochon's foot of doom

or some such melodramatic
nonsense, wasn't it?

You have an excellent
memory, Mr. West.

This way, please.

Now, Mr. West,

you have a pair of fleet legs,

and, I suspect, an
equally agile mind.

It will be interesting to see

how long they can
delay the inevitable.

At my command, Cochon.


Bravo, Mr. West.

I'm beginning to think you
may last a little bit after all.

I'll try not to disappoint you.

Artie, fire when ready.


Come on. Over here!

Mr. West. This way, quickly.

Come on, you first.

Hey, wait. I'm going too.

Like that?

Oh, that's better. Much better.

You, um... You haven't
told me, Cochon.

Did you have much trouble

persuading our friend
Mrs. Grimes to talk?


Ah, isn't that sweet?

I wish I'd been there.

However, Mr. West and his party

should be here soon.


just as I thought.

No, no.

No, Cochon.

This is my treat.

Aagh, aagh! Cochon, quick!

Quick, Cochon.

Cochon, help!

Help, help!

Help! Cochon!

James, my boy,

you'll never guess who
we have approaching

from outside at
this very minute.

Give me a clue, Artie:

Animal, vegetable, or mineral?

Well, think of
silks, satins, laces,

uh, tassels, blond hair.

Oh, that could be almost anyone.

How about a feather boa?


Right. Wait here.

Enter. Oh.


Oh. Mwah.

I want you and Artemus to
be the first to congratulate me.

Oh, don't tell me
you're getting married.

No. Engaged.

Oh, that's wonderful.

When do we get to
meet the lucky fellow?




Jim, Artemus,

I want you to meet the one man

that I've always waited for,

Hubert Crandy.

I'm... I'm glad to
meet you, gentlemen.


Absolutely delighted.


At least this one doesn't
mind shaking hands.