Bewitched (1964–1972): Season 2, Episode 9 - ...And Then I Wrote - full transcript

- Good afternoon. Mrs. Stephens?
- Yes?

I'm Dr. Passmore.
Is Mr. Stephens in?

No, I'm sorry, he isn't,
but I expect him soon.

- Won't you come in, doctor?
- Oh, thank you.

Oh, just by way of introduction...

I am chief psychiatrist
at Meadowbrook Rest Home.

Our guests are aware that this
is the centennial of the year...

which marked the end
of the War Between the States...

and they'd like
to do something about it.

Aren't they a bit late?

Mrs. Stephens, they would
like to commemorate the event.



Yes, of course. Well,
what's this got to do with Darrin?

Well, it's necessary for us to inform
the public of our undertaking.

That means advertising...

and I understand your husband
excels in that field.

Oh, he does.
And it sounds like a wonderful idea.

I can vouch for Darrin. I'm certain
he'll be happy to do your publicity.

Oh, really?
Then I may depend upon it?

For such a worthy cause?
I give you my word.

You gave him your word?

Honey, I'm right in the middle
of planning the Jarvis account...

I'm drawing the Slater
TV commercials...

and I'm racing the clock planning
that Murphy's Supermarket opening...

- and you gave him your word.
- Darrin, please.

Well, then I'll give you my word.
In a word, "no."



I thought you wanted me to be
interested in civic things.

I do.

So, what are you doing
for this noble project?

Sam, I couldn't do it
even if I wanted to.

My knowledge of the Civil War
is slightly less than limited.

I could help. Mine's perfect.

Hello?

Hello, Dr. Passmore.

Well, I'm happy to do it.

Oh, well, could I
make a suggestion?

I think my wife
would be perfect for it.

Oh, yes, an expert.

She'll do it.

I give you my word.

Bye.

- Do what?
- Write the pageant.

Write the...? Me?

Hello, Mother.

It's a wise child
who knows her own mother.

Darling, I thought we could spend
some time with each other.

Nope. Can't.

I'm writing a play.
Just started four hours ago.

Oh, really? What's it about?

The American Civil War.

Well, the simple stories
are always the best.

Oh, I wish Darrin hadn't given
my word I'd do this.

- Well, maybe I could be of some help.
- How?

Well, I could be your secretary.
I can type faster than anybody.

Watch this.

"The quick brown fox jumped
over the lazy 'merplederk'"?

Well, I said I was fast,
not accurate.

Thank you, but I'm afraid this is one
thing I'll have to do for myself.

All right. All right, darling.
Be independent.

Just do it the hard way.

Hope you like my script
for the pageant.

Well...

I'll go change
and then I'll fix dinner.

It's still very rough.

- Don't expect too much.
- What?

Oh, okay, honey.
A sandwich will be fine.

Well?

Whatever it is you've been cooking
certainly smells good, sweetheart.

We're having cold cuts.

That bad, huh?

Oh, it's not bad for a first try.

Worth a second?

Go on, Darrin. You can be honest.

Well, darling, to tell the truth,
it's the characters.

They're kind of stereotyped,
one-dimensional.

You gotta flesh them out.
Think of them as real people.

Well, I've learned something
very important tonight.

- What's that?
- Never let your husband criticize...

on an empty stomach.

Oh, my stars.

Now, don't tell me you haven't
finished, Samantha.

I had the wrong slant, Mother.
I'm starting again.

Do you realize the war might take
longer to write than it did to fight?

My problem, according to Darrin,
the critic, is my characters.

He thinks I should
flesh them out more.

Well, I think that's
an excellent idea.

Place them in front of you
so you can see them better...

and then you'll be able
to write them better.

- You might have a point.
- Well, I'll leave you with it.

Just bear in mind, darling:

Write mortal, think witch.

Let's see.

Captain Corcoran.

My hero.

My hero.

If you're so great, how come
you're so one-dimensional?

It would help to see you better.

Captain Corcoran.

Tall.

Handsome.

Courageous.

Intelligent.

My! Not bad. Not bad at all.

Oh, yes, Captain Corcoran,
I think you'll do very nicely.

My, what a beautiful horse.

But that beard will have to go.

Never.

I beg your pardon?

A Confederate officer
without his beard?

Why, I'd die of shame, ma'am.
I would. I'd just die of shame.

Now, listen here. If it weren't
for my vivid imagination...

you wouldn't be here in the
first place, beard or no beard.

So, what I say goes.

But I tell you, ma'am, if I have
to face the enemy clean-shaven...

why, I'd rather lose the war.

You're Southern. You did lose.

Don't dampen my spirits, ma'am.

I don't know that yet.

I'll show you.
Now this is the way it should go.

Charge!

No. I think you were
better off in my mind.

Well, all right.

Now, let's see how you turned out.

Hey, not bad, you know.

Nice headband.
Hey, you've got pretty good taste.

I think you've done a first-rate job.

- There's only one small comment.
- Well, what's that?

Well, what's an Indian doing
in the American Civil War?

Well, I wanted somebody without
any political allegiance to either side.

Sort of a chorus.

Now, may I ask you a question?

- Why don't you talk like an Indian?
- Well, why don't you think like one?

- Because I don't have a clich? mind.
- Well, that's fine with me.

I mean, I hate to say lines like:

"White man speak
with forked tongue."

- Let me worry about that.
- Well, no, I mean...

I was just mentioning it,
you know.

"Ugh" is out too.

I'd like to see how my two characters
measure up to each other.

Miss Samantha, ma'am...

would it be impertinent of me
to suggest a bit of love interest?

- Good man.
- I meant for me.

You're absolutely right.

What you need is a lovely
young girl from Pennsylvania.

- A Northern girl?!
- Yes, that's right.

But you love each other, even though
her sympathies are with the North.

- Hey, that's a pretty good conflict.
- Oh, thank you.

Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.

- Don't leave me, Johnny.
- Oh, no, sugar.

- Don't leave me.
- All right, all right. Let's not overdo it.

- You'd better go.
- We're just getting started, ma'am.

Well, I can't let people
see you here.

- Oh, hi, Mrs. Kravitz.
- Hello, Mrs. Stephens.

I don't wanna bother you
if you have company.

- No, no, I'm alone.
- You're alone?

Oh, you are?

Well, I see you are.

Well, I won't keep you. I just came
to borrow a cup of horse... Sugar.

- I'd be happy to get it for you.
- Thank you.

- Won't you come in?
- No, I'll stay right here. Thank you.

- Mrs. Stephens said she was alone.
- She is.

- Well, what about the two of you?
- Oh, we're not real.

We're just something
she dreamed up.

- That's crazy!
- Isn't it though?

We're right out of her mind.
Come on.

Abner! Abner! Help!

Help! Abner!

Abner! Help!

- What are you doing here?
- Well, how should I know?

You thought about us,
and here we are.

You mean, all I had to do
was think about you?

Samantha?

- There's Darrin. You better leave.
- Can't we meet him?

No. He isn't used
to this sort of thing.

At least give me a chance
to explain.

Okay.

- How do I get rid of you?
- Try making your mind a blank.

Good.

What's Mrs. Kravitz
so hysterical about?

- Well, you know Mrs. Kravitz.
- Yeah.

Who are they?

Who are who?

I see an Indian,
a girl in a long dress...

and a Confederate officer
with his horse.

You see an Indian,
a girl in a long dress...

and a Confederate officer
with his horse?

Sam!

Now, Darrin, please try
not to be angry.

I know it's gonna be difficult
for you to understand at first.

You see, they're...

They're figments of my imagination.

- Imagination?
- Characters in my play.

That's ridiculous.
Look, you people...

would you mind just going back
into her mind...

- or wherever you came from.
- Now, Darrin, please don't be upset.

Well, I...

- What happened?
- I kissed you, I guess.

I know you kissed me, but what
has that got to do with anything?

Well, when I kiss you,
I can't think about anything else.

And when I stop thinking,
they disappear.

- Now you kiss me.
- Why, are they back?

No, just for the heck of it.

And don't worry, darling,
I can control them.

- Hey, author. Sam.
- Yeah?

Hey, we got a great idea
for the second act.

Now, I'm guiding Violet through
the battlefield to see her lover.

- You listening?
- Yeah.

There's a blinding rainstorm.

Sam!

Now look, all you characters
are gonna have to...

- Where's your horse?
- Sam.

Okay.

We're forced to take cover.

Now, when Violet doesn't show up,
I think that she...

All right! Cut, cut.
I've had it with you characters.

- That Violet has been killed.
- Sam, will you stop thinking?

Well, I'm trying to, but they seem
to have taken on lives of their own.

Corcoran now decides
that life isn't worth living.

Look, would you...?

Hey, that's not bad.

Now, get this. This could be
the big scene in the play.

The captain gets on his horse and
rides into the blazing battlefield...

unaware that a band
of desperadoes...

Sam, I can't understand why you
don't do something. You're a witch.

With a perfectly normal
subconscious...

and nobody can control
their subconscious.

Besides, since I started writing,
I have an over-stimulated imagination.

Well, then forget the whole project.
Tell Passmore to get somebody else.

Well, I can't go back
on my promise.

Honey, he'll understand.
He's a psychiatrist.

His life is filled
with broken promises.

- Darrin.
- Besides, I see them everywhere.

They're in the bathroom.
They're in the closet.

I even saw them in the...
Excuse me.

I even...

Why am I even being polite to him?

What's the matter,
you don't like minority groups?

Out of her mind.

You've talked
half the night about that.

Now, if I hear it one more time...

The Indian came right out of her mind
and vanished into thin air.

Okay, Gladys, I've had enough.
You're gonna see a psychiatrist.

Hello?

- Oh, hi, honey.
- Hi, sweetheart.

I finished the last poster. I'll drop
them off at Dr. Passmore's office.

Why don't you meet me there.
We'll have lunch afterwards...

give your mind a rest.

- Okay?
- I think it's very okay.

I'll meet you there. Bye-bye.

The mind is a very puzzling thing.

You see, these characters
just appear very real to you.

It's because you haven't seen them.

Now, the Indian is dressed in doeskin
and is wearing a feather.

And the soldier has on
a grey uniform...

like they used to wear
during the Civil War.

And the girl has on a long gown.

Mrs. Kravitz, I assure you,
they're all in your mind.

No. I told you.
They're all in her mind...

and then they vanish
into thin air.

Now then,
I want you to repeat after me:

"It's all in my mind."

It's all in my mind.

"It's all in my mind."

It's all in my mind.

"It's all in my mind."

It's all in my mind.

That's better.

Now, I want you to believe that.

- Do you?
- No. Yes.

Splendid.

Very well.

I want you to take three of these
every day for the next week.

And, Mrs. Kravitz, get out more.

Get a hobby.

Join things.

Darrin Stephens
to see Dr. Passmore.

It's all in the mind.

Hi, Mrs. Kravitz.

- You too?
- What?

Save your money.
It's all hallucinations.

Get yourself a hobby. Join things.

It's all in the mind.

I'm gonna be all right.

Good to see you, Mr. Stephens.
And Mrs. Stephens.

- Doctor.
- Come right in, please.

- Thank you.
- Come right in.

You're ready to show me
the posters, I see.

Yes, right here.

Here's the first one. I used this one
to point up the importance...

- of commemorating the event.
- Very good.

Very good indeed.

Beautiful, Mr. Stephens.

Perfectly, perfectly beautiful.

You are an artist indeed.

You know, I must say,
you've captured the...

Mr. Stephens?

Do you do that often?

He's crazy about me.

Yes. I read somewhere
when your wife is expecting...

you should show her
lots of love and affection.

Well, there's a time and a place
for everything, Mr. Stephens.

- Could I see the next poster, please?
- Oh, certainly.

I used very striking colours
in this one.

Now, I wanted to illustrate here
the importance of being involved...

Sam.

- Who are they?
- Who are who?

Well, I see an Indian...

a girl in a long dress...

and a Confederate officer
with his horse.

You see an Indian,
a girl in a long dress...

and a Confederate officer
with his horse? How about that?

Well, thank you, Mr. Stephens.

Good to see you.
Thanks for stopping by.

Well, it's good to see you, doctor.

Sam.

Sam.

It's all in my mind.

It's all in my mind.

It's all in my mind.

I don't know how I ever managed
to live through that. I'm only human.

Well, you know what I mean.

Well, I hope you're all satisfied.

If you had one shred of decency,
you'd go back where you came from...

and never darken my mind again.

Leave? Well, what do you think
we've been trying to do?

I'd love to go, ma'am.

You're not a bad writer,
but you're no Lillian Hellman.

The trouble is, we've no place to go.
We don't have a home.

- Home?
- A plot.

Now, how can we settle down
in a play unless we have a plot?

We've been trying to tell you
how to finish this thing...

but you haven't been paying
attention. Now, sit down.

Now that we're solid,
three-dimensional characters...

we'll help you finish the play.
Now, take this down.

This is what happens.

I say to the captain:

"Captain, the war is over.
The South has capitulated."

Then it's the end of everything.

Bang.

I rush in. I see him.

You killed the captain.

- You killed him.
- No, I...

Bang.

He was my friend.
He did it himself.

It was the only way
that he could die with honour.

I hereby swear that I will
dedicate my entire life...

to seeing that these fine men
did not die in vain.

Out of this black day,
a mighty nation will grow.

Something good will come of this.

The orchestra hits
"glory, glory, hallelujah"...

and as the music swells to a
crescendo, the curtain slowly falls.

The end.

It worked!

Oh, Darrin, it worked.
They found a home.

My heartfelt congratulations.

Don't I deserve a kiss for that?

Well, I don't know.

What do you mean?

Well, there doesn't seem to be
much point in kissing now.

Darrin.

That was quite an experience.

Yes, the sets and costumes
were lovely...

but, oh, those actors.

Well, the actors never quite live up
to the conception of the characters.

By the way, I saw you talking
to a lady after the show.

It seemed like quite a big
conference. What was it about?

- Would you like some coffee?
- What was it about, honey?

Milk, tea, hot cocoa?

I'm not thirsty, and you
didn't answer the question.

Who was the lady?

Oh, just a lady
from the Ladies' League.

I'm listening.

Well, they wanna put on
sort of a vaudeville show.

You know, song-and-dance acts,
and...

Sam, you didn't.

Hello. I hope I'm not
disturbing anything.

- Oh, no. We're all alone.
- Oh, good.

I just wanted to tell Mrs. Stephens
how much I enjoyed the...

- Sam!
- Yes, dear?

Now, how will I ever be sure that
that will never happen again?

Well, I guess you'll just have to
give me lots of love and affection.

Then I can promise
they won't be back.

That's blackmail.

Yes, I know.