Charlie's Angels (1976–1981): Season 1, Episode 10 - Consenting Adults - full transcript

Thieves steal works of art from an antiques dealer because of the precious diamonds hidden in a frog, Sabrina & Jill go undercover as a couple of veterinarians to take hold of something the thieves want in exchange for the diamonds & their clients' son.


CHARLIE:
Once upon a time,

there were three little girls
who went to the police academy.

And they were each assigned
very hazardous duties.

But I took them away
from all that,

and now they work for me.
My name is Charlie.

Hey, you're not leaving?

Sorry, my love.

I thought you were
going to stay a while.

No, I have to meet someone
at my place.

If I leave this moment,
I'll still be 20 minutes late.

And don't forget,

you have exams.

For next semester's
tuition.

Clifton Cunningham.
Yes?

Come here.

Talk to you soon.

Real soon.

Hey, don't slam-dunk.
That's not a basketball.

[PHONE RINGING]

That's the signal.
Let's split.

Hey, look at
that frog.

Leave it.
It's too hard to fence.

I like frogs.

Plunk your magic twanger,
Froggy.

Hey, you remember
Froggy the Gremlin

from Andy's Gang on TV?

That's not my kind
of nostalgia. Now, come on.

Will you get out of here?

Hello, my name is Cunningham.
I want to report a robbery.

Robbery?

Yeah, yeah.
Of course I'm still here, I--

Let me call you back.

It's missing.

The frog.
They took the frog.

Mr. Bialy,
we have a small problem.

He says he's been robbed.

All right.

Mr. Bialy would like
to see you.

I hope--

I mean, I'm certain
you don't think

for a moment that I had
anything to do with this.

Come along,
Mr. Cunningham.

There. I've got
my racing wheels on.

I'm ready for the paved wave.

Those things are
dangerous.

And working for
Charlie isn't?

Bos, you ought
to try the L.A. River.

Now that's a trip and a half.

And risk my life?
Forget it.

[PHONE RINGS]

Hello.
Oh, hi, Charlie.

All present
and accounted for.

Good morning, Angels.

Morning, Charlie.

We have a missing person--

Cunningham, Clifton.

Bosley's got the file.

According to his neighbors,
Cunningham is a classic loner.

Most of them have
never even seen him.

Then how do
they know he's missing?

I'm getting to that.

He owns an exclusive
antique store.

And he lives upstairs.

Alone?

He makes Garbo look
like a cheerleader.

The client?

Cunningham's mother.

Maggie Cunningham,
of Memphis, Tennessee.

The man next to her--
That's Harry S. Truman.

Hey, give him hell,
Maggie.

That's Harry S. Truman?

I always thought
that was James Whitmore.

You're to meet her
at Cunningham's store.

She's some lady. I just hope
you can keep up with her.

[CHARLIE GROANS]

Charlie, you okay?
You sound terrible.

Just a slight case of a rare
affliction-- Scotch poisoning.

Scotch poisoning.

Ah, I can see again.

That was when
I made the remark,

"If you can't stand the heat,
get out of the kitchen."

Mr. Truman loved it.

He said, "Maggie,
I'm just going to borrow

that phrase,
if you don't mind."

Mind? Hell,
I was flattered.

I didn't vote for Harry.
But that's a different story.

Maggie,
about Clifton.

When did you
discover him missing?

Well, let's see.
That was Sunday afternoon.

But you got
into town Friday night.

And he was
expecting you?

Yes, of course.

But I didn't grow concerned
until Sunday.

I just thought
maybe he was off

on another one
of his buying trips.

I do hope you find him soon.

We'll do
everything we can.

Yes, I'm sure you will.

Now look.
If I wouldn't be in the way,

would it be all right
if I continued

to live here
in Clifton's apartment?

In the way?

You're certainly not in the way
as far as we're concerned.

I am so glad.

I absolutely hate hotel rooms.
They give me claustrophobia.

Oh, Mr. Bosley.
Hi, Maggie.

Well, that apartment upstairs
is like a museum.

He's kept all the
good pieces for himself.

KELLY: He certainly doesn't have
any friends to give them to.

BOSLEY:
Huh?

Nada.
Absolutely nada.

Gee, it is pretty sparse.

Uh, phone company.
Fire department.

Hey, wait. Back up.
What was that?

Consenting Adults.
I don't know what that is.

Consenting Adults is
a computerized dating place.

That's interesting.

Hey, look what
I found over here.

This contains
a complete history

of Cunningham's store
from day one.

Detailed records of every item
ever bought or sold.

Ladies,

two more things
for show-and-tell.

You know that buying trip
that Cunningham might be on?

Well, he might have company.

I found it sitting shamelessly
on his nightstand

next to his big brass bed.

Who do you
suppose she is?

I don't know, but it was taken
at Perri's of Hollywood.

Maybe he can tell us.

And rushing in where
Angels fear to tread,

I discovered this
in his underwear drawer.

A cocktail napkin
from a place called The Pub.

Don't tell me, let me guess.
A strawberry daiquiri.

No.
A grasshopper?

Tequila, straight up.
Lime, salt.

Very good.

Glad you're impressed.
Now you can impress me.

Ring any bells?

Rings my bells.

That don't mean I know her.
Lots of girls come in here.

Yeah, I see a few
in here right now.

You're a cop, right?
Wild guess.

I don't talk to cops,
much less meter maids.

Wonder what
Lolita's ID looks like.

15? 16?

What kind of trouble
you trying to cause?

She ain't hurting nothing.

Don't tell me.
Tell the Beverage Control boys.

They love yanking licenses.

Hey, I run a clean joint.

Fine.

Just give me
the information I need,

and you can keep right
on doing it.

Now, look at the picture
of this guy.

Stare into his troubled eyes
and tell me what I want to know.

I've seen him in here once,
maybe twice.

The girl?

Sometimes Fridays.

Don't know her name,
don't know her business.

I keep my nose clean,
if you know what I mean.

Sure. Make an educated guess,

and don't insult my
intelligence.

Let me put it this way:
She comes in alone.

She don't leave alone.

In other words,
she makes friends easily.

It's been lovely.

Men never pick my pockets...

unless they've got incredible
confidence in their fingers.

Do you have
incredible confidence

in your fingers,
Cunningham?

Did you pick my pockets,
Mr. Cunningham?

Look, how many times
do I have to tell you?

I was robbed.
I was robbed!

When you say you were robbed,
I want to believe you.

Ernesto, he wants
to believe you too.

Don't you, Ernesto?

You bet.

I think you're
beginning to understand

how badly I want
that frog back.

Yes, I understand,
but I don't know anything.

I don't.

Sometimes a horse
has got to be prodded

coming down the homestretch.

Makes him run better.

Think, Clifton.

Think very hard.
Hey, what do you--?

Get away from me.
Get away from me!

He looks a little bit like
one of my professors.

Maybe when
he was younger, but--

No.

So you don't know him?

No, and I've got
a pretty good memory for faces.

Did that man do something wrong?

No. No, he's missing.

Tell me something.
Do you recognize this face?

You're kidding.
That's a picture of me.

That's how
I found you.

The clerk at the photo studio
gave me your address.

Gee, I'm terribly confused.
I'm sure you are.

Let me see if I can
clear things up for you.

You see,
this photograph of you

was found in this man's
apartment.

Oh, now that gives me
the creeps.

You see, this picture is part
of a professional portfolio.

Are you an actress?

Well, a model. Sort of.

You see, I'm an art history
major at UCLA...

and I do a little bit
of modeling on the side.

You know, back-to-school
promotions, that sort of thing.

That picture could've gotten
into anybody's hands.

And apparently, it did.

Well, thank you very much
for your help, Ms. Martel.

I'm sorry to have kept you
from your studies.

Well, I'm sorry. I wish
I could've been of some help.

Well, you can only tell me
as much as you know.

You know, you have a really
beautifully decorated apartment.

Thank you.
I did it myself.

Did you really?

Some really
lovely things here.

Lovely.

Good morning.

We never saw Cunningham.

We cleared out the store and
took the stuff to the warehouse.

I haven't the foggiest idea
why Cunningham disappeared.

And I'll tell you
something else. I don't care.

But you and Mumford
didn't do anything to him?

That I can promise you.

So why did that woman ask
so many questions?

Hey, I'm not worried.
Don't you be.

Okay.

Two seconds after
you left, Bree,

she took off in a hurry
for Consenting Adults.

And I mean in a hurry.
She looked really shook.

She wasn't
when I was there.

Butter would've melted
in her mouth.

But, she lied about
knowing Cunningham,

and her place was filled
with antiques.

One of them even had
the Cunningham label on it.

I saw it.

Well, she's had a lot
of experience

at playing it cool.

She may be
Tracy Martel to you,

but her police blotter reads
Delores Martin,

with six priors,
starting when she was 16--

All prostitution beefs.

What happened
to the art history major?

That's the twist. She is in her
last year of school,

with a 3.4 average.

Wow. Not your average
lady of the night.

So what's the tie-up between her
and Consenting Adults?

I don't know,
but I have a feeling

one of us is going to get
to play call girl.

Bingo. Guess who.

If I could squeeze a gold watch
out of Charlie

now would be
the perfect time to retire.

Oh! I'm sorry. The guy
you're with is L.A.P.D. Vice.

I'm really sorry.

Listen, what time is it?

I've got to go make
a phone call,

but I'll be
right back, okay?

I'll order two more.
Good. You do that.

Excuse me.

Oh, hey, thanks.
You really saved my skin.

What can I say?
It's okay.

A friend of mine got busted
by that same cop last week.

What ever happened
to the good old days

when you could spot a cop
from a mile away?

Oh, they're gone. Forever.
By the way, I'm Jill.

Tracy.
How's it been going?

Not so good.

I'm beginning to think
I was born under a bad sign.

I've had no luck
since I hit this town.

Boy, if you can't make a living,
we should all give up.

Really. I've attracted every
registered pervert in L.A.,

Orange Counties.

No pays,
hassles by the heat--

If this keeps up, I'm going
to start looking for a day job.

Listen, one good turn
deserves another

and let me turn
you on to something.

Have you ever heard of a place
called Consenting Adults?

No.
It's sort of a dating service.

It's run by this guy
named Cooley.

He provides girls like us

with a very exclusive
client list.

He takes a cut,

and the dating-service setup
makes sure the cops stay away.

That's terrific. Why were you
freelancing in the bar tonight?

Oh, Cooley didn't
have anything for me,

and I've got bills to pay.

Look, I'll call Cooley
for you tomorrow.

Oh, that's nice.
Hey, how can I thank you?

Oh, forget it.
Listen, good luck with Cooley.

Tracy gave you the highest
possible recommendation.

Let's see if you and I

can't work out something
that's comfortable.

I have a policy: I never
give away anything I can sell.

You'll do.
When do I start?

I'll be in touch.

Send the client in.

Thank you.

Hello.
Hi.

Like pudding on springs.

I think I want that
young lady's hand in marriage.

Sit right down, Mr. Bosley.
Let's discuss your needs.

Needs?

I need that wonderful lady
who just left.

Do they all look like that?
Yes.

Let's see.
Your profile says

you enjoy quiet evenings at home
curled up with a good book.

I would suggest you want someone

that's mature,
well-informed, cerebral.

I want that like I want
the heartbreak of psoriasis.

Oh, no, Mr. Cooley.

That's not what
I had in mind at all.

What kind of books
do you enjoy?

I loathe books.
I like lascivious banter.

I like action.
I like that girl. Get it?

Got it.

Good.

You girls are doing
a wonderful job.

I know you're going to find
Clifton soon

and everything
will be just fine.

Maggie, uh--
You have such zest.

You know, last night
I was trying to figure out

who is it that
you remind me of.

Now, don't take this wrong,
Sabrina,

but you remind me
of myself.

When I was much,
much younger, of course.

Well, that's very
flattering.

No, it isn't.

All three of you
seem to be

so alive and have
so much vitality.

You must enjoy your work.

Not always.

Like now.

Is it something about Clifton?

Uh, yes, it is, Maggie.

We found out that Clifton joined
a computerized dating service

called Consenting Adults.

From there, we connected him

with the girl in the photograph,
Tracy Martel.

And, um...

Well, I don't know
how to put this--

Sabrina, come right
out with it.

She's a prostitute.

Oh, I'm sorry, Maggie.

I'm really sorry.
I didn't mean to shock you.

Shock me?

Sabrina, darling.

I was raised to believe

that what adults do
with one another

is nobody's business
but their own.

Maggie, you never cease
to amaze me.

Good.

I still don't get it.
Would you run it by once again?

Okay. L.A.P.D. routinely
tapes all incoming calls.

Cunningham started to report
the robbery on Friday,

but never finished
the call.

I'm with you so far.

So I checked
with the phone company.

There was a message unit
call made a couple

of minutes after
the call to the cops.

This was the place
he called.

A stable?

He interrupted calling
the police to call a stable?

Curiouser and curiouser.

Hey! Khaki.
I'd know that punim anywhere.

So that's Khaki. I'd give
anything to be what he is.

A horse?

No, an undefeated
2-year-old.

I lost a fortune
on that horse.

But he's never lost.

I know.
I never bet him.

Smoke that pipe someplace else.
Don't do it here.

I'm sorry.

Don't be sorry.
Just get lost.

The last thing
in the world

Khaki needs
is to inhale pipe smoke.

You're his owner,
right?

That's right.

Hi, I'm Kelly Garrett.
I'm with New Sport magazine.

Never heard of it.

Oh, uh, it's new.

I keep my ear to the ground.
I usually hear about new things.

Uh, our first issue hits
the stands in three months.

I'm one of the editors,
and that's why I'm here.

You see,
the editorial department

is having
a slight disagreement

over the cover
of our first issue.

Disagreement?

There's a contingent,

including Bosley here,

that wants Nadia Comaneci
on the cover.

Nadia Comaneci?

She's that delightful Romanian.

I know who she is.

I want Khaki on the cover.

Who do you want on the cover?

Ms. Garrett,
in this ordinary world,

Khaki is rather special,
I think.

The term "superstar"
is too cheap.

Khaki is your cover,
Ms. Garrett.

I want you to know I'll be
just as persuasive as I can.

Please count on my cooperation,
Ms. Garrett.

Thank you again.
I'll be in touch.

It's a real pleasure,
Ms. Garrett.

Bosley?
Oh, yes.

Do you know who that was?
Ed Bialy.

The Ed Bialy
of Kansas City renown?

One and the same. Of Pasadena
and Palm Springs now.

He left Kansas City when he
got out of the labor rackets.

I wonder what the connection is
between Bialy and Cunningham.

Whatever it is,
it's unwholesome.

In 1955,
an independent poll

of publishers
and broadcasters

voted him
the meanest man on Earth.

You're a brave man,
Clifton.

But it's a misplaced bravery.

Which is the same thing
as stupidity.

Tell us about the girl.
We're all men here.

I won't--

I won't involve her.

When it comes
to inflicting pain, Clifton,

Ernesto has astounding stamina.

He can dish it out
better than you can take it.

That's enough.

Let's reconstruct the day
of the robbery, shall we?

You're always
in your store at noon.

That day you weren't. Why?

I-- I was seeing the girl.

While you were having
your thirst for lust quenched,

your store was being robbed.

Who do you think knew that you
weren't going to be there?

I'll answer that for you:
the girl.

And who do you
think's responsible

for the situation
you find yourself in now?

Again, the girl.

She set you up.

The name, Clifton.

I want the name of that girl.
I want her address.

All right.

All right, all right.
I'll tell you.

What are you doing here?

You're a cop.

You're a lousy cop.

Tracy, listen--

I do you a favor, and you
set me up for a two-bit bust.

No. That's not it at all.

Listen, I'm not proud
of what I do for a living, lady,

but you're the real sicko.

Okay, let's both
stop playing games.

For starters,
you can drop the "Tracy."

It rhymes with
"Stacy" and "Macy"

and all those other jive names
hookers like to latch onto.

Your name is Delores Martin.

You're into a pretty heavy
Sherlock Holmes fantasy.

You think this case
will ever get to court?

I'm not your ticket
to a promotion,

if that's what you think.

I'm not L.A.P.D.
I'm a private investigator.

And when you get to court,

it won't be
on a prostitution rap.

Try robbery, kidnapping--
maybe murder.

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

Is Cunningham dead?

He was here Friday afternoon,
wasn't he?

The same time his store was
being burglarized, right?

What happened next,
Delores?

Nothing.

Clifton figured out your role
in the robbery, didn't he?

No.

Okay, okay.

You're right about the robbery,
but that's it.

Hey, turning tricks
is one thing,

but you're in serious trouble.

I swear to you, I don't know
what happened to Cunningham.

I am your friend.
I want you to believe that.

But I have
to have more to go on.

You set up the tricks
to be ripped off,

including Cunningham,
right?

Through Cooley?

Who pulled the jobs?

Cooley.
And?

Some ex-con named Mumford.

Okay, let's have a little
instant plea-bargaining.

I'll help you with the police,
but you have to help me.

How?

I want to find out
what happened to Cunningham.

Trust me?
Will you go along with it?

Please?

Tell me what you want me to do.

Tracy's going to call
as soon as she talks to Cooley.

And you and Bosley will be swept
away on the wings of romance?

Right.

And Cooley and Mumford hopefully
will hit our rented mansion.

Is everything all set, Bosley?

It's all there, clean
and well-furnished.

I only hope
they appreciate it.

Are you sure they'll
show right away?

Yeah. We're only supposed
to be in Vegas for one night.

[PHONE RINGS]

Hello? Hi, Tracy.
Cooley bought it?

Yeah, he's going to call
you and confirm it.

Oh, good. I'll let you know
as soon as we get him.

Bye.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

They've just arrived.
Jill, are you in position?

Yes, we are.

This is going to be the most
documented burglary

of all times.

Also the beginning of an
exciting career

in photojournalism.

We'll put together
a scrapbook for them.

It'll give them something
to look at in prison.

Hey, Kelly, what's going on down
there? It's been almost an hour.

They should be finished soon,
Sabrina. Just hold on.

They're picking the place clean.

Don't worry, Bos. They
don't get to keep any of it.

There should be a time limit,
like on a game show.

They're getting into the truck.

Sabrina, here they come.

Get ready.

Right.

Look at it this way, honey.

Very simple.

Here's the paper.
Here's a pen.

Now, either you write down
the address of that warehouse--

Or I'll break your fingers,
one by one.

There.
Now what happens to me?

If I find a certain frog,
nothing.

I'll even get you a ride
to the airport.

But if I don't get
what I'm looking for--

Well, we'll cross that bridge
when we come to it.

We're heading west
on San Fernando Road.

Got you.

They're taking the truck
into a warehouse.

Now, I'm at
San Fernando Road near--

[STATIC ON RADIO]

We're losing you.

I said, I'm
at San Fernando Road--

Sabrina. Sabrina, come in.
You're breaking up.

I made out San Fernando Road,
but I didn't hear where.

San Fernando is a long road.

Ludwig!

This is Ludwig.

Ludwig used to belong to
a cocaine dealer

out in Baldwin Hills.

who kept him locked up
in his garage all summer.

So Ludwig has got a lot
of catching up to do.

And Ludwig is a leg man.

A-1 Lumber?

Not A-1 Lumber?

Oh, I'm in the wrong place.
I'm sorry. Excuse me.

No, no, no. Don't go too far.
I want her to be able to speak.

Now, once more.
What's your name?

What are you doing here?

[COCKS RIFLE]

Don't do that.

Cooley.

Hey.

How come she knows your name?

Shut up.

Where do I know you from?

You don't know me. I know you.

You got a jacket
downtown a mile long.

It doesn't mention violence,
at least not yet.

Hey, what do you want
to start now for, huh?

Now's as good a time as any.

No.

Wrong.
That would be dumb.

And sloppy.

See, um, I got friends.

Take a look.

Gentlemen...

put the gun down.

Come around the chair.

Now face the pretty lady.

Put your hands
behind your head.

I got nothing to say
to anybody but my attorney.

Wonderful.
That's what lawyers are for.

Down on the floor.

Kneel!

[TWO SILENCED GUNSHOTS]

Who are you?

Be patient, little lady.
Be with you in a minute.

What are you doing?

You're a real lucky lady.

That's funny.
I don't feel so lucky.

You're much too pretty to kill.

What's that supposed to mean?

Like I said,
you're a lucky lady.

Lucky those guys
blindfolded you.

Lucky I didn't get paid
to kill you.

Take care.

Kelly, pull over.
There's Sabrina's car.

Kelly, pull over.
There's Sabrina's car.

[CLATTERING]

Move and you're part
of the wall!

What a rotten attitude.

What has been
going on in here?

I don't know.

I have been here the whole time.
I don't know.

We still have the same question:

What is the tie-up between
Cunningham and Bialy?

And what was in the statue
that got smashed?

And why did we ever go to work
for Charlie in the first place?

This is no time
to get discouraged.

Why not? We started
with one missing person.

We still have one missing person
and two corpses,

and we don't even know more
than when we first started.

All we have is one antique
dealer and one ex-racketeer.

Who says he's ex?

What do you mean?

Well, now,
we've been assuming

that he's out
of the rackets

and he's into raising horses,
right?

Now, suppose that's
just a hobby.

Hobby horses?

Oh, Bos.

What racket
do you think he's in?

There's only one reason
he'd be dealing with Cunningham.

Antique dealers travel
all over the world.

Smuggling?

That's right.

And let's see.

Last trip
Clifton Cunningham took

was to South Africa.

So, if the theory is true,
he was smuggling back--

Diamonds.

Diamonds.

Okay.

So Cunningham brings
the diamonds into this country

and he's supposed to deliver
them to Bialy, but...

Tracy sets him up
to be ripped off by thieves

who get the diamonds,

and they don't even know
what they've got.

Ah, the bliss of ignorance.

Oh, I wish I'd said that.

So, Cunningham is with Bialy.

Yeah, and
that's what worries me.

If that's the case,
then Maggie's blue-eyed boy

is in a lot of trouble
with the law.

Okay, how are we going
to prove any of this?

One thin dime.
Hey, Bos.

You remember Bialy's voice?

Pretty good.

Think you could take
half an hour and, uh,

get a letter-perfect
impersonation going?

Hello?

But I don't understand.

[IMPERSONATING BIALY]
Now, listen, jocko, I don't
pay you to understand.

I pay you to obey orders.

I want Khaki transferred
to my property.

There will be two lady
veterinarians

coming by to pick him up,

so I want him in the trailer
and I want him prepared.

Do you understand that?
Yes, sir.

Rich Little, eat your heart out.

When we were at the police
academy, did you ever think

we'd be involved in a scheme
to steal a racehorse?

Those were the good
old dull days.

You know what?
I miss the good old dull days.

Yes.

Okay, he's all yours.

Thank you.
So long.

Mr. Bialy, please.

I don't know what
the landlord's going to say.

Mr. Bialy.

Never mind who this is.

The point is, Khaki's gone,
and I've got him.

Do you follow me so far?

I follow.

I will return Khaki to you

in exchange for the contents
of the frog

and the return
of Clifton Cunningham.

What do you think
was in the frog?

Diamonds, Mr. Bialy.

We know all about Cunningham's

recent trip to South Africa.

Now, about those diamonds.

I would like them delivered
to Griffith Park, 12 noon.

You will go
to the east parking lot

and there you will receive
further instructions.

Mr. Bialy, have I made myself
perfectly clear?

We wouldn't want any mistakes.

Or you’ll again. see Khaki

We wouldn't really
hurt you, Khaki.

Be there at noon.
And take him.

Wait a minute.
Take him.

Come on. Let's go.

Hello, Cunningham.

Who are you?

What you're looking
for is down there.

What would your mother say
if she could see you like this?

Diamonds?

Where's the horse?

We didn't bring him,
exactly.

No horse, no diamonds.

See that trash barrel
over there?

There are instructions
where you can find the horse.

How do I know they're for real?

Come on, where do you think

I'm going to fence
a stolen horse?

Come on.

Okay.
Get the instructions.

The diamonds.

Same time, okay?

Okay.

Hey, mister! My truck!

Now fill me in on the details.

What happened
to the Tracy Martel girl?

Oh, she left town
right after Bialy let her go,

not too far ahead of the law.

Fortunately, Bialy wasn't able
to follow suit.

The police found him
at the stables.

Which they've been trying to do
for the last three decades.

Are they going to be able
to get a conviction?

They think so.

His bodyguard is facing
two counts of murder,

and he's singing like a lark.

That'll put Bialy away
for a long time.

Oh, you girls have done
a marvelous job.

They deserve to celebrate.

I wish it could be a little bit
more of a celebration.

Oh, you mean Clifton? Oh, don't
you worry about that, dear.

If he's proven innocent,
that's fine.

Now, if he has
to do a little time,

well, maybe that's just what
he needs to straighten him up.

At the very least, it will be
a learning experience.

A learning experience.

Excuse me. Are you Mr. Bosley?

Oh, yes.
I have a call for you.

Thank you.
Excuse me, girls. Hello?

CHARLIE:
Bosley, I'm calling
from a phone booth,

so I'll make
this short but sweet.

I just want you to convey
my appreciation to the Angels.

I was adding up the box score.

Very impressive work.

Will do.

That was Charlie, and he sends
his congratulations.

Oh, wasn't that
thoughtful?

Maybe we'll meet him someday.
Oh, I wouldn't count on that.

Could I have
the check, please?

Oh, it's been taken care of,

by that man
that was sitting over here.

Did he mention his name?

Yes. It was Charlie.

Charlie? Did you see him?

Was he good-looking?
Tall? Short?

Did he have a mustache?
I'll bet he had a mustache.