Fantasy Island (1977–1984): Season 3, Episode 12 - The Cheerleaders/Marooned - full transcript

(BELL TOLLING)

The plane! The plane!

(GIRLS GIGGLING)

Tattoo?

Tattoo? Boss, right here.

Tattoo. Is that really you?

Yes, boss. I really
fooled you, didn't I?

Oh, you certainly did.

But may I ask what you are
doing inside a fire hydrant?

I'm camouflaged.

Camouflaged? Of course.



But may I ask why you
want to camouflage yourself

as a fire hydrant?

I'm taking a mail order course

on how to become a secret agent.

Secret agent.

Lesson number one: How to
be seen without being seen.

Truly amazing.

You love it, boss. Right?

Wait till you see the others.

I've got millions of them.

I can hardly wait.

And our guests can't wait
either. So shall we go now?

(GIRLS LAUGHING)

ROARKE: Smiles,
everyone. Smiles.



TATTOO: Mmm, pretty
girls. Who are they, boss?

The young lady in the red
blouse is Miss Marge Atkins.

With her is her longtime friend
and roommate, Miss Kathy Wilton.

They work as chocolate dippers in a
candy factory in Louisville, Kentucky.

(CHUCKLING) Sweet job.

What's their fantasy?

One of glamour and
excitement, Tattoo.

For this weekend Miss
Atkins and Miss Wilton

wish to become cheerleaders for
the Louisville Titans football team.

The Titan cheerleaders?

Boss, they are some of the
most beautiful girls in the world.

Oh, indeed they are, my friend.

TATTOO: Are they
really here on the island?

ROARKE: Yes.

Hmm, you think Miss Wilton and Miss
Atkins would mind if I showed them around?

Tattoo, a little decorum,
shall we, please? Huh?

Oh, I believe this next
gentleman's fantasy

will also interest you.

I wouldn't bet on
it. Cheerleaders.

Mr. Melvyn Mews. A truck driver

who hails all the way
from Wichita, Kansas.

Mr. Mews' fantasy is to
spend this weekend alone

with the woman he has
loved for the last 12 years.

What's the big deal about that?

The big deal about that is
that she is Miss Liz Merrill.

Otherwise known as the
Hollywood Sex Goddess.

And Miss Merrill doesn't
even know Mr. Mews is alive.

That's what the
big deal about it is.

TATTOO: Liz Merrill?

ROARKE: Yes. Uh-huh.

Boss, she's everyone's fantasy.

She's even better
than 15 cheerleaders.

See?

My dear guests, I am
Mr. Roarke, your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

Well, how do I look?

Magnifique. Agreed.

You, Mr. Mews, look like
a man born to the water.

Well, thank you. Thank you.

(CHUCKLING) And thank
you for these swell-looking duds.

But it beats me how
you knew my sizes.

On Fantasy Island,
we know many things.

Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.

Oh, relax, Mr. Mews. Relax.

I'm certain Miss Merrill
will be along momentarily.

Oh, these are the
directions to your destination.

You may open the envelope
two hours after casting off.

And not before.

Anything you say,
Mr. Roarke. Two hours?

Yes.

But how do I know

which direction I'm
supposed to be heading?

North or south? Fine.

No, I mean which direction?

Pick one that pleases you.
I'm sure that it will be fine.

(LAUGHING) Pick the one?

Well, that's kind of
crazy, Mr. Roarke.

I mean, I don't mean
to be disrespectful,

but I'm a truck driver.

And anybody with any
kind of sense knows

that you just don't go
heading out in a direction

unless you know
which way you're going.

I warned you, Mr. Mews,

there will be times, if your
fantasy was to be fulfilled,

when you would have to trust
and obey my instructions implicitly.

Or have you forgotten?

Yeah. But what instructions?

I mean you didn't tell
me which way to go.

Boss?

Oh, excuse me.

Ah, the lovely Miss Merrill.

It's so nice to see you again.

May I introduce your
guide, Mr. Melvyn Mews?

How do you do?

How do you do, Miss Merrill?

This is a real honor for me.

I've seen every one of
your pictures at least twice.

When you said a boat, I
had no idea you meant a boat.

Oh, I am terribly
sorry, Miss Merrill.

The yacht I had hoped to
provide developed engine trouble.

Although it is a trifle
small, I must admit,

I am certain that this vessel will
get you to your destination safely.

But a star of my international
stature can hardly be...

Dickens.

Can't you be more careful?
That wig cost me a bloody fortune.

Servants. Servants.
They're just not making...

She sounds like she got out
on the wrong side of the bed.

Possibly. Possibly.

Well, Mr. Mews, now that you
have met the girl of your dreams,

what do you think?

She looks a little
different up closer.

Really? In what way?

Well, she's kind of older.

You want to change places?

No, no, no. Don't get me wrong.

I still think that she's the
greatest woman I ever saw.

Well, when do we leave?

Immediately, if you wish.

MERRILL: Yes, I
certainly do. Mr. Mews.

Miss Merrill?

Why don't you sit
right there, Miss Merrill?

Right there.

I'm just glad my fans
can't see me now.

Yes. Well...

Cast off!

(ENGINE STARTING)

Well, bon voyage.

She's not a very pleasant woman.

I don't think it's what
Mr. Mews expected.

I doubt if this
weekend is going to be

what either of our
guests had expected.

CHEERLEADER:
Kick, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

(MEN GRUNTING)

(WHISTLE BLOWING)

Kick, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Turn, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Kick, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Do me a favor, will you, Kathy?

Sure. What?

Pinch me to make sure I'm awake.

Pinch yourself. I'm
fresh out of hands.

Perfecto! That's
all for the day, girls.

ALDEN: Here we go.

(EXHALES)

If only the folks back in
Louisville could see us now.

Marge, look out.

Way to go.

May I have the ball?

Huh? The ball.

(CHUCKLES) The ball.

Thanks.

If you ever get tired
of being a cheerleader,

we can always use
another wide receiver.

Kathy, you know who that was?

Roger Mosely.

The Roger Mosely.

And he talked to
me. Right at me.

It was the only way
to get his ball back.

Ten to one odds, Mosely gets
traded before the season opener.

How do you figure that?

I figure that because
his passing game stinks.

That's your opinion.

Also the coach's opinion.

I got it straight from
the horse's mouth.

Excuse me, ladies. I saw
you talking to my quarterback.

I hope that doesn't
happen again.

What do you mean?

What do I mean?

Weren't you warned about
my non-fraternization policy?

Look, I got a football team

to get ready for
the season opener.

I don't want these men
thinking about anything

except football, you understand?

Cheerleaders are not allowed

to fraternize with your players?

You're not even
allowed to talk to them.

Get caught and you're out.

Just when I was beginning
to enjoy my fantasy.

What are you talking about?

Roger Mosely. I
can't even talk to him.

So?

You promise not to tell?

I've had a crush on Roger
Mosely since he played in college.

But, Marge, you have a crush

on half the football players
and movie stars in the world.

Well, it's different with Roger.

Now the only two days I
have to be close to him,

I can't even talk to him.

But, Marge, did you see the
way Mrs. Hoight was looking at us?

I think maybe we have a
chance to be cheerleaders

even after our fantasy.

And maybe Coach Alden will relax
some of his rules once the season starts.

But even if he does...

Even if we do make it as
cheerleaders, by then it'll be too late.

Roger'll have been
traded to Buffalo.

MEWS: As far as I'm concerned,

Loving at Dusk is the greatest
movie that you ever made.

I watch that on the late
TV show all the time.

You know, I'll never
forget that scene where

that weird congressman
trapped you in his office.

What was it you said to him?

You said, "I thought
you were a conservative."

(LAUGHING)

That one really put me away.

How come you never
won the old Oscar?

I mean, I would've given it to
you in a flash for Isbanicci Lady.

Boy, the way you play the fallen
lady, that was really something.

Miss Merrill, this is really an honor
for me to be here alone with you.

Is it all right if
I call you Liz?

"Miss Merrill" will do
just fine, thank you.

Anything you say, Miss Merrill.

(HUFFING) Oh, honestly.

I should've held out for a yacht

instead of this motorized kayak.

What did you say your name is?

Mews. Melvyn Mews.

Well, Mr. Melvyn Mews, as the
alleged skipper of this alleged boat,

I would like to
lodge a complaint...

Several complaints,
as a matter of fact.

First, this boat is too small.

And second, that sun up there is
causing me to break out in freckles.

Third, I have an
overwhelming thirst

for a ridiculously dry martini.

I never thought to
bring any liquor aboard.

When do we reach
our destination?

Oh, I don't know.

Mr. Roarke gave me this envelope

with sealed instructions inside.

Sealed inside?

Well, open it, man. Open it.

Oh, no, no. Mr. Roarke told me
not to open it for a full two hours.

Okay. So I promise not to
turn informant. Now open it.

Well, what does it say?

(STAMMERING)
There's nothing. It's blank.

You don't know
where we're going?

Mr. Roarke must
have made a mistake.

(ENGINE SPUTTERING)

Now what?

We're out of gas.

Well, put some
more in, you idiot.

I don't think there is any more.

What do you mean, you don't
think there's any more around?

There's got to be
some more around.

We can't be stranded out here.

Mr. Roarke wouldn't
dare do such a thing to me.

Would he?

(WHISTLE BLOWING)

You know something, Kathy?

That sportswriter who said Roger's
passing game stinks is absolutely right.

He is throwing all wrong.

What are you talking about?

Well, take a good look.
Roger's throwing side armed.

And he's only taking
three steps back.

I see what you
mean. But so what?

Well, I told you I
watched him since college.

And when he played his best,

he always took five steps
back and threw over the top.

(GRUNTING)

(SIGHING) Oh, well.

I guess I can always quit my job

and move to Buffalo
when Roger gets traded.

Buffalo? What about
me? I'm your roommate.

Well, I know. But I
can't abandon Roger.

A gal's gotta do
what she's gotta do.

Maybe there's another way.

You have a very devious
look in your eye, Kathy Wilton.

I have more than that.
I have a devious idea.

KATHY: Come on. Do as I do.

MARGE: How long do you think
we're gonna get away with this?

Just long enough for you
to talk to Roger Mosely.

I hope.

Let's try the tackling dummy.

MERRILL: You're sure you don't
know anything about our destination?

MEWS: I'm sorry, Miss Merrill.

Well, how about my fantasy?

Did Mr. Roarke say
anything about that?

I don't... No!

What is your fantasy?

(SIGHING) What
have I got to lose?

To begin at the beginning.

My newest picture just was
released in New York City.

Yeah. Bawdy House Blues.

Oh, sounds like a real winner.

Well, for your
information, it's a real loser.

People are staying
away in droves.

Of course, it's not my fault.

The picture was edited
and scored entirely wrong.

I kept telling the studio,
but they wouldn't listen.

And your fantasy is to make
Bawdy House Blues a hit, huh?

In a manner of speaking, yes.

To be precise, my fantasy is to
be marooned on a deserted island.

But why?

Publicity, you idiot. Why else?

Once my disappearance
creates international headlines,

my loyal fans will
flock to the box office.

And I'll be spared the indignity of
starring in another cinematic bomb.

Four duds in a row, thanks
to Monument Pictures.

Well, can't you do something?

I'm doing the best
I can, Miss Merrill.

What are you complaining about?

You're about as
marooned as you can get.

ROARKE: Tattoo?

Tattoo?

TATTOO: This way, boss!

Tattoo?

Right here, in the haystack.

What the...

Ah. Yes, of course.
Another camouflage, right?

Right, boss. How do you like it?

Tattoo, it's
absolutely terrible.

That disguise
wouldn't fool anyone.

(COW MOOING)

Well, at least no one
with any intelligence.

(MOO)

Oh, boss, what
do I do now? Help!

Au secours! Help!

(EXCLAIMS IN PAIN)

That thing must be
made out of solid lead.

I think we'd better
get out of here, Marge.

The coach is looking this way.

But we've come too
far to turn back now.

Go. Go. Let's go. Ready?

If only I could get
Roger's attention.

Set. Go, go.

(WHISTLING)

Perkosky, get up.

What in the name
of Mean Joe Greene

do you think you're doing?

I've only been doing
what you told me to do.

Kill the quarterback.

Not our quarterback, meathead.

Theirs! What is it?

It's bad. It could
be my knee again.

All right. Get the trainer.

Who did it? All
right, who whistled?

Well, I never expected this.

And how I allowed myself to become
part of this Mickey Mouse expedition,

I'll never know.

I thought it was for publicity.

Who asked you?

Where are we?

In the middle of the ocean.

I can see that.

MEWS: Oh, great.
I lost the compass.

I suppose it's my fault!

(EXCLAIMS)

(GASPING)

Funny. Very funny.

You picked a great
time to go for a swim.

Well, don't just swim
there. Do something.

I am gonna do something.

What? Something I
would've bet my life on

I would never have
done four hours ago,

and that's to tell
you to shut up!

MEWS: Land ahoy!

MERRILL: Thank goodness.
I thought I was doomed.

(BOTH SCREAMING)

MERRILL: I'm drowning!

Oh, hold on to me!

The least you could
do is carry me ashore.

I know. But that would eliminate
the possibility of you drowning.

(COUGHING)

MEWS: I wonder if this is what
Mr. Roarke has in mind for you.

MERRILL: Of course not.

He said I'd be met

by a retinue of servants
with ground transportation.

Yoo-hoo! We're here!

Hello!

Well, they're late
getting here, I guess.

But while we're waiting,

you can help me
get the boat back.

Oh, my... No.

You know what, Melvyn? I
truly wish you worked for me.

Why?

So I could fire you on the spot.

MARGE: I've had a crush
on Roger since college.

And now it's my
fault he got hurt.

WOMAN ON PA:
Dr. Vejar, pick up Line 3.

(MUTTERING)

Dr. Vejar, pick up Line 3.

It must be down that way.

(CHUCKLES)

Okay. Now, you keep her busy

just long enough for me
to get into Roger's room.

Hello.

Maru.

I saw you at practice.

Maru? What does Maru mean?

Isn't that the name
of a Japanese ship?

No, no, no, no,
no. I kick. Kick.

Uh...

kick.

Maru Yprios. Oh, sure.

He's the place kicker the Titans
just brought over from Cyprus.

Well, ¿Cómo está?

Oh, but we have to get
out of here, Maru. Ciao.

You smile at me.
Means you like me.

(LAUGHING)

I am very fond
of you, too, also.

Come. Come.

Hi. ROGER: Hi.

I'm Kathy Wilton.

A Titan cheerleader.

Then you know? Sure.
I saw you at practice.

You and the other cheerleaders.

Is someone following
you? Why do you ask?

The way you're acting.

Well, I'm sort of
nervous about something.

Like that whistle you
heard on the field.

You? Oh, no.

A friend of mine.
Her name is Marge.

She wants you to know she's
awfully sorry about your knee.

You know, your friend just may
have done me a big favor by whistling.

Are you kidding?

You see, there's a rumor going
around that I might be traded.

So? So this way I can
beat 'em to the punch.

I can use my injury
as a reason to retire.

I want to go out on top.

Say, do you play gin rummy?

Yes, but not very well.

I'll teach you to be a
real killer. Sit down.

Me? Sit on your bed?

Sure. Why not?

I read that article
about you in Playgirl.

Highly exaggerated.

If it were true, I'd be too
exhausted to play football.

(PANTING)

You're going too fast!

(GRUNTING)

I can't. I can't go any further.

There's nobody on
this island anyway.

Can't say that
Mr. Roarke doesn't deliver.

I think we are actually
lost on a deserted island.

Don't you talk to me about
Mr. Roarke. This is an outrage.

You know what's
gonna happen now?

What? Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.

They're never going to find us.

Why do you say that?

My horoscope. I had it cast

just before I left
home. I'm a Leo.

I know.

You know I'm a Leo? I
read it in a movie magazine.

When I was a youngster,
back in Colorado,

I used to wonder how
the end would come.

I hoped it would end
swiftly and painlessly.

Who would have guessed it would
end on a remote deserted island?

Two strangers.
Liz Merrill and...

What did you say your name was?

Melvyn Mews.

Two strangers. Liz
Merrill and Melvyn Mews.

The latter a complete unknown.

Aren't you getting a
little bit over-dramatic?

Well, you don't think we're
ever gonna be found, do you?

Oh, dear God, if you're
listening, please hear these words.

I know I haven't always
done what you wanted me to,

but I promise to if you'll only
get me off this damned island!

Forgive me, God. I
didn't mean to blaspheme.

Well, it wouldn't hurt if you
would do some praying also.

After all, two prayers have
got to be better than one.

Melvyn?

Melvyn, where are you?

Melvyn? Melvyn?

(WHIMPERS)

(GASPING) Oh,
thank God, it's you.

Where did you run off to?

Scouting the area. We don't
have too much daylight left.

What is it you want?

I'm hungry.

Well, join the club.

I'll wait here while
you find some food.

Wrong. We both
scrounge for some food.

Well, you're the hired help.

It's your job to look
after Mr. Roarke's guests.

I am not the hired help.
I am a paying guest here

entitled to all the rights
and all the privileges!

Just between the two of us, I
think I am being royally gypped.

If Mr. Roarke were
here right now,

I would insist on a
refund for my fantasy.

You had a fantasy?

A real stupid one.

I wanted to spend
a weekend with...

The woman that I loved.

The most beautiful,

sexiest movie
star that ever lived.

Well, frankly,
lady, I was a jerk.

I was in love with an illusion.

You're nothing more than
a rotten, spoiled female

who ought to be spanked.

All right, are you gonna help
me scrounge up some food or not?

Suit yourself.

Gin.

It looks like I have
to pay off again.

Oh, Roger, this is all wrong.

My best friend Marge
has had a crush on you

ever since your college days.

We couldn't help ourselves.

It just happened.

She'll understand.

Yeah. Good old Marge.
She'll understand.

MARGE: Understand?

What a mean, low, sneaky,
underhanded, dirty trick.

My best friend turns out
to be Benedict Arnold.

Do you think I
wanted it to happen?

Does a bee want to run
into a full-blown flower?

Oh, come on, Marge.

I thought maybe you and Maru
might have something going by now.

He doesn't even speak English.

And I don't speak Cypriotic
or whatever they call it.

Why should he have to speak?

The language of
love is universal.

Oh, Marge, I really
am sorry. I really am.

Well, that's just
not good enough.

Best friends don't
do that to each other.

Oh!

(OWL HOOTING)

Mmm. This is the tastiest
fish I have ever had.

Can I have some?

Oh, sure. Sure.

Here.

You take my knife, and you
sharpen up a bamboo stick.

And you spear all
the fish that you need.

Just like I did.

I see. How much?

What's that?

How much money
for half your fish?

(LAUGHING) My
fish isn't for sale.

I see. All right. $100.

Two hundred!

Sorry. Anyway, your
money floated out to sea.

What good is money
on a deserted island?

I've got something that...

didn't float away.

Yes, I know. My shirt.

And my shorts that you
stole from my duffel bag.

Plus something a lot better.

Like what?

Like this.

Well?

No fish. How dare
you reject Liz Merrill!

Give me that fish!
Give me that fish!

I'll teach you.

(SCREAMING)

You brute! You brute!

Leave me alone!

Now the name is Melvyn Mews.

You remember that, Liz! Liz!

Because we just might be spending
the rest of our lives here together!

Oh!

While we're at it, I want to
establish some ground rules.

I am the boss!

And whatever I say
goes! Democracy is out!

So is that Hollywood star bit!

On my island,

you are nothing
but plain old Liz!

And your only function is to keep
your old man, which is me, happy!

Oh. Oh, don't stop. Kiss me.

What's going on?

Oh. You're so
masterful, so wonderful.

I've never been treated
like that by any man,

including my four
previous husbands.

Oh, Melvyn, I need you.

You mean you like it?

Like it? Oh, I love it.

And you agree with
everything I said?

Everything. Everything.
Oh, stop talking and kiss me.

I don't know. Don't know what?

If I'm as great as you say...

Uh-huh.

You don't deserve me.

CHEERLEADER: 5, 6, 7, 8.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Turn, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Kick, kick, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Kick, kick, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Step out, step out...

3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

(FOOTBALL PLAYERS CHATTER)

2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Kick, 2, 3, 4...

Come on, smile, girls, smile.

Maru. What in the name of Too
Tall Jones is the matter with you?

Maru is in love.

Love?

Turn, 2, 3, 4...

HOIGHT: That is
fine, girls. All right.

Now let's work on the
side, side, side, side.

Front kick. Back
flip. Side, side...

Excuse me, Mrs. Hoight.

Could I have a word

with Miss Wilton and
Miss Atkins, please?

Oh, sure. Marge
Atkins. Kathy Wilton.

Please go with
Mr. Roarke, on the double.

Let's keep going, girls.

Well, let's all start at the
beginning, right? 1, 2, 3, 4.

Have a seat, thank you.

CHEERLEADER: 5, 6,
7, 8. Step out. Step out.

Now, I...

CHEERLEADER:
2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

I regret saying this, ladies,

but you have placed me in
a very embarrassing position.

How so, Mr. Roarke?

It was I who arranged
for you to be cheerleaders,

but my plan seems to
have backfired completely.

Within 24 hours,

you have managed to put
one quarterback in the hospital,

render a highly vaunted
place kicker totally ineffective.

And demoralized an
entire football team.

Including its coach, of course.

What's wrong with
the place kicker?

He is hopelessly in love
with you, Miss Atkins.

And as a direct result, he is
unable to concentrate on the ball.

We really did mess things up.

ROARKE: Well, indeed you did.

The Titans open their season
against Pittsburgh, no less.

Pittsburgh, in 10 days.

And I greatly fear
for their safety.

What can we do to help?

You, Miss Wilton,

can convince Roger
Mosely to leave the hospital

and participate in this afternoon's
all-important scrimmage.

But he's injured.

Are you absolutely certain?

Or is it possible Mr. Mosely's
using a very minor injury

as a means of bowing out
of football while still on top?

Well, he did say... Aha.

Didn't you tell Roger

what was wrong with
his passing game?

No. I got so wrapped
up in other things, I forgot.

What can I do to
help, Mr. Roarke?

Give Maru Yprios his
concentration back.

Show some interest in him.

That won't be too hard to do.

He's kind of cute. Is that all?

Uh, no, not quite. Not quite.

I think it's high time

you two friends patch
things up, don't you?

Hmm?

Well?

How's that, Mr. Roarke?

That is very nice.

Now, may I suggest, Miss Wilton,
that you hurry over to the hospital?

What for?

Roger Mosely has
called a press conference,

and I believe he's planning

to announce his retirement
from professional football.

(MERRILL GIGGLING)

(EXCLAIMS)

Come here. Sit down.
There. Let me get your back.

ROGER: Am I entitled
to an explanation, nurse?

I had to stop you from
announcing your retirement.

But it's over, Kathy.
I'm all through.

That's just the point.
You're not over the hill.

Marge figured it out.

You've been throwing
the ball all wrong.

For openers, you've
been taking the ball

and stepping only three
steps instead of five.

Then, when you're
forced to scramble,

you've been throwing side arm

instead of overhand like this.

(TATTOO EXCLAIMS)

Get the picture?

(CHEERLEADERS CHEERING)

(MEN CLAMORING)

(WHISTLE BLOWING)

(CHEERING EXCITEDLY)

I knew it. I knew it.

What are you doing
out here? I'm all right.

The knee's okay? Yep.

You can play? Yeah.

Let him in there. What is it?

Third and fifteen.

All right.

Show me something.

Hey. Hey.

Roger's throwing overhand.

That's something I took
care of at the hospital.

Set. Go.

(WHOOPING)

Maru, kick it out
of the stadium.

We got a touchdown!
Touchdown, touchdown!

We got a touchdown! (CHEERING)

Hut. Go.

MERRILL: Oh, I never would
have dreamed that Liz Merrill

could ever exist
outside the spotlight.

You know, when I first
decided on an acting career,

I never planned to be
Hollywood's sex goddess.

Oh, no. I wanted to
be known for my acting,

not my physical endowments.

Liz, why don't you
forget about Hollywood?

It's all behind you now.

Oh. I'm so glad it's behind me.

With what we've got, who
needs Hollywood, hmm?

(CHUCKLES)

Who needs civilization?

Melvyn, do you believe in fate?

Well, that depends. Why?

I believe that fate threw
us together on this island.

Movie star and truck driver.

Well, regardless of
what threw us together,

I never want to go back.

Oh, neither do I, darling.

We've got everything
here we'll ever need.

Oh, you don't know
what a relief this is.

Your boat was found adrift,
and we feared the worst.

We're fine, Mr. Roarke.
We've never been better.

The whole world is in
mourning for you, Miss Merrill.

The whole world?

ROARKE: International news
coverage is unprecedented.

Your disappearance crowded
virtually all else off the front pages.

Fans are thronging to
theaters to see your latest film.

Really?

Yes.

Oh, well, of course,

my fans always were very loyal.

Gentlemen, I would
appreciate it very much

if you got back
in your helicopter

and just forget
you found us, okay?

Very well. Is that also
your desire, Miss Merrill?

You did say,
"thronging the theaters"?

Yes.

They're having Liz
Merrill film festivals

all over the country.

No, Mr. Roarke. It isn't.

I'm sorry, Melvyn.

You definitely wish to
remain here, Mr. Mews?

Oh, Mr. Roarke, I can't greet
my fans dressed like this.

Oh, that has been
arranged, Miss Merrill.

Tattoo, will you kindly bring the
lady's suitcase from the helicopter?

Thank you. Suitcase?

(LAUGHING) Well...

(HELICOPTER WHIRRING)

MERRILL: Melvyn?

(STAMMERING) But I thought...

I couldn't leave you, Melvyn.

It seems I have a
terminal case of L-O-V-E.

What about your fans?

Well, they'll just have to find
themselves a new sex goddess.

This one just retired
from the silver screen.

Well, ladies. Did you
enjoy your fantasy?

To the nth degree, Mr. Roarke.

Oh, I'm very glad.

Sorry that you don't be
permanent cheerleaders?

Not really. We're going to be too
busy once the football season starts.

Really? Busy doing what?

Making sure some cheerleader
doesn't steal my place kicker.

Or my quarterback.

See you at the Super Bowl.

Goodbye, Miss Atkins.

Goodbye. Thank you. Miss Wilton.

You're very welcome. Goodbye.

Well, Tattoo, how's your
spy training coming along?

Magnifique, boss. I found an
ultimate place where I can hide.

Really?

Where I can be seen
without being seen.

And observe without
being observed.

Well, I must say you
have piqued my curiosity.

And where is this
marvelous hiding place?

Aha.

A mailbag?

Yeah. That's exactly
the point, boss.

Who is gonna look
twice at a mailbag? Hmm?

That is a point.

Help me, please.

There you are.

Yes.

Tie it up.

Uh, Tattoo, are
you sure it's safe?

It's perfectly safe, boss.

All right. All right. Tie it up.

Now, look. I've got two
holes for my eyes there to see.

And one to breathe.

All right. Nobody's
gonna find me, ever.

Can you come out
and play, Tattoo?

Tattoo?

Boss, do you know anybody who
wants to buy second-hand books

on camouflage, cheap?

(LAUGHING)