Fantasy Island (1977–1984): Season 3, Episode 9 - Nobody's There/The Dancer - full transcript

Klutzy private eye Betty Foster hopes to solve her first case; and wealthy Texan Big Jake Farley wants to meet Valeska DeMarco, the ballerina who inspired him to success.

The plane! The plane!

Smiles, everyone! Smiles!

Look at that king-size
cowboy. Who is he?

The gentleman behind that
big smile is Mr. B.J. Farley,

known to his
friends as Big Jake.

He's also a man after
your own heart, Tattoo.

How so?

Mr. Farley is one of the
world's wealthiest men. Uranium.

What's his fantasy?

To will me all his money?

No, Tattoo, that
is your fantasy.



Mr. Farley has
journeyed all this way

to meet the woman
whom he credits

as the inspiration
for his success.

Her name is Miss
Valeska De Marco.

Valeska De Marco,
the prima ballerina?

Boss, she was the
best dancer in the world,

and she disappeared.

Eight years ago.

You see, Tattoo, just before
Miss De Marco disappeared,

Mr. Farley, then
a down-and-outer,

sneaked into a ballet
house to avoid the rain.

Miss De Marco was onstage.

Well, he took one look at
her and fell madly in love.

He decided then and there
to make something of himself



so that he could someday
meet her as an equal.

Boss, you found her? She's
here on Fantasy Island?

Indeed she is, my friend.

And Mr. Farley is not
only going to meet her

for a tea I arranged
this afternoon,

but he is also going
to see her dance.

Boss, something tells me
that the cowboy and the lady

are going to mix
like oil and water.

Ah, Miss Betty Foster,

the private investigator who
hails all the way from Toledo, Ohio.

Her a private eye?
Boss, you must be kidding.

Oh, I'm quite serious, Tattoo.

Hmm. What's her fantasy?

A rather modest one, my friend.

She simply wishes to
crack her first big case.

Unfortunately, the rest of
the world refuses to cooperate.

Oh!

What?

Yes, you see,

Miss Foster was graduated
as a private detective

more than a year
ago, and until now,

no one has ever trusted
her to handle a case.

Boss, what school did she go to?

One of those
correspondence schools.

You know, the kind that advertises
on the back of matchbook covers.

Boss, you gonna give an amateur
like that a real case to crack?

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

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

Okay, out with it, Mr. Roarke.

I mean, I've only
been here four hours

and already you've
transformed me into a...

A contessa.

Something like that.

What's going on?

Patience, Miss Foster, the
explanation will be forthcoming shortly.

Here she is, boss.

Contessa Christina Kastronova,

may I present Miss Betty Foster,

the detective we discussed.

A bona fide contessa.

Boy, it's a real honor to
meet you, Your Contessaship.

Gee, I... I don't
know whether to bow

or... Or to kiss your
hand or to shake it.

A simple handshake will do.

Have you filled Miss Foster in?

Not as yet, Contessa.
Please sit down, won't you?

Ah, well, briefly Miss Foster,

the Contessa is here for the
reading of her cousin's will.

Mr. Duncan
Devereaux, her cousin,

mysteriously disappeared from
aboard his yacht one year ago.

The Contessa believes

he was murdered.

Really? Why?

Duncan was both an
expert sailor and swimmer.

Look, during a small
shipboard party,

Duncan merely
strolled out on deck

and he's never been seen since.

And you think someone on board
that yacht for the party killed him?

Yes. And my fantasy
is to find out which one.

With Mr. Roarke's help,

everyone who was at the party is here
on the island for the reading of the will.

I must interject at
this moment that

both you ladies should realize

that the closer you get to
finding the possible murderer,

the more your lives
will be in danger.

I can't turn back now.

And you, Miss Foster, do
you still wish to proceed?

Danger is my business.

Well, excuse me, Tattoo.

Well, in that case,

I had better explain the
rest of your transformation.

You see, while henceforth
you will be the Contessa,

the Contessa will be
your private secretary.

But if it's a reading of the
will, there'll be relatives there.

I... I... I mean, won't they
know that I'm not her?

No, I don't think so.

You see, I haven't seen any of
my relatives since I was a child.

Well, I... I guess it'll work.

I guess my only question is
why do we need the masquerade?

Yes, um, perhaps
you'd better explain.

I received two letters
warning me not to show up.

Meaning, the Contessa,

or in this case, anyone
posing as the Contessa,

is liable to meet the same
fate as her late cousin

if she shows up for
the reading of the will.

Do you still wish to
proceed, Miss Foster?

Well, like I said,
danger is my business.

Say, y'all know
Yellow Rose of Texas?

It goes something like...

You don't know it, huh?

Oh, howdy, Mr. Roarke.
Hello, Mr. Farley.

Boy, I'm so nervous,
I could eat a horse.

Oh, there's no
reason to be nervous.

There ain't, huh? No.

Well, how do I look?

Kind of like a pink ribbon
tied around a prize hog, ain't it?

You look splendid, Mr. Farley.

You think so?
Really. Splendid, yes.

You know, I don't cotton to
being something that I ain't.

But a fancy lady
like Miss Valeska,

she's used to real
gentlemen, you know.

Please relax, Mr. Farley. Relax.

Yeah, sure.

Um...

Ah, Miss De Marco,

may I introduce Mr. B.J. Farley.

How do you do?

Well, have a pleasant interlude.

Mr. Roarke informs
me you're from Texas.

Mmm-hmm.

Is anything wrong, Mr. Farley?

Mmm-hmm.

Oh, no, ma'am!

Good afternoon.
Isn't it a lovely day?

Yes, yes, it's... It's lovely.

Oh, excuse my manners, ma'am,

how'd you like to get the
load off your feet, huh?

I got it. I got it. I
mean, have a seat.

Oh! Yes, thank you.

You're welcome, ma'am.

What's your pleasure,
ma'am, tea or champagne?

But I got liquor too if
you like a real snort.

Well, I'll tell you, I could use
a little champagne. Thanks.

Excuse me, sir.

Hey, fill her up, partner.

The little lady and
me's mighty thirsty.

I think he wants
you to sample it first.

Oh, yeah, right.

Say that's good stuff.

Hey, let me see that.

"Dom Per-gin-non. 1957."

Ain't you got anything
fresher, partner?

Um, here, leave the jug.

We'll summon you if we need you.

Yes, sir.

Mr. Farley, I really do want to
thank you for being my patron.

Mr. Roarke has explained to me

how you invited the six top
dance critics to watch me perform.

I'm very appreciative.

Think nothing of it, ma'am.

I'd have invited 600 if that's
what it took to see you dance.

You're very kind and optimistic.

Eight years is a long time.

I hope I don't disappoint you.

Ma'am, there ain't no way in this
world that you could disappoint me.

Say, tell me, I hope you don't
mind if I get a mite personal,

but how come no feller ever
come along and hog-tied you?

I mean, how come a lovely
lady like yourself ain't hitched?

Married?

Well, my life has
been devoted to dance.

There really hasn't been
time for anything else.

We got us a saying
down in Big D.

Yes?

That if'n a gal waits too long

for her knight in shining
armor to come riding by...

Mmm.

She's just liable

to have to clean
up after the horse.

I tell you something,
Mr. Farley,

I really do enjoy your company.

It's so relaxing.

Thank you, ma'am.

Oh!

Excuse me. Yes.

Valeska, it's time
to resume rehearsal.

Oh, yes, well,

goodbye for now,
Mr. Farley. And, uh, thanks.

Hey, just call me Big Jake.

All my friends do.

Well, here we are, ladies.

I hope I can pass
as the Contessa

and the Contessa
pass as my secretary.

Don't worry. It will
be a piece of cake.

What a creepy place.

Yes, however,
Mr. Devereaux's will

stipulates that it be read
here at Black Cliff Manor

precisely one year to the
day of his unfortunate demise.

Cousin Duncan used to say that
Black Cliff Manor was haunted.

He was kidding, I hope.

I hope so, too.

Well, Tattoo? Well, what, boss?

Ah, Mr. Roarke.

I see you finally arrived.

And which of you two
ladies is Cousin Christina?

I am.

Charmed. I'm Cousin Nicky.

They say we used to
play together as children.

Yes, that... That's right.

Before black became beautiful, I
was the black sheep of the family.

Don't know where
that leaves me now.

Who's she?

Um, that is my
private secretary.

Lois. Fifi... Lois.

Follow me and I'll
introduce you to the others.

We were just having a
drink when you arrived.

Lady and gentlemen,

it is a great pleasure for me to
introduce you to Cousin Christina

on my immediate left, and
her private secretary, Lois.

Christina, this
is cousin Sylvia.

Next to her, we
have Samuel Blade,

Duncan's former
business partner.

And last, but not least, we
have Mr. Algernon Pepperhill,

Cousin Duncan's lawyer
and now executor to his estate.

Hi, everybody.

What I mean is, how
nice to see you all.

Drink, Cousin Christina?

Or should I address
you as Contessa?

Christina will
suit me just fine.

And as for the drink, no thanks.

It has been a very long
journey for our two ladies.

I suggest they repair to
their rooms and freshen up.

Uh, Contessa, Miss, um, Smith,

may I show you the way, please?

Boss, I don't like this place.

Yes, it is rather
eerie, isn't it?

Now that we took
care of the ladies,

why don't we get out of here?

Oh, no, no, no, no, Tattoo.

One of us must remain
and look after our guests.

I nominate you.

Oh, come, come, Tattoo.
There's nothing to fear.

I would stay myself, but you know that's
impossible with all my other obligations.

However, if you should need me,

why there's always a telephone.

Right, boss, right.

Well, I guess you're right.
There's nothing to fear.

Nothing.

And beside, Betty and
the Contessa may need me.

Thank you, Tattoo.

Your devotion to duty is
exceeded only by your bravery.

Ah, lovely old place. Lovely.

Boss! Boss.

Lovely place, yeah. Lovely.

Mr. Roarke. Oh,
Mr. Roarke. Mr. Roarke!

Yes, yes. Oh, boy,
was I a calamity.

About as refined as a nearsighted
buzzard at a church social.

Oh, calm yourself,
Mr. Farley. You can't believe...

No, no, please, please,
please, calm yourself.

Now, what is this
you're talking about?

The tea with Miss Valeska.

Yes.

I poured champagne
all over everything.

Made a real clown out of myself.

Oh, come now, Mr. Farley. I'm
sure it wasn't as bad as all that.

It wasn't, huh?

No, as a matter of fact, I just spoke
with Miss De Marco on the phone

and she told me that your
meeting was most enjoyable.

She did?

Yes, she did.

Really? Really.

Then maybe I didn't hurt my chances
any worse than they already were.

Chances?

Look, Mr. Roarke,

I know Miss Valeska and me is about
as much alike as a blue jay and a crow,

but I'm still gonna try.

Try?

I love that little
lady, Mr. Roarke.

And I got my Stetson
set on marrying her.

Now wait... Now
wait, Mr. Farley.

You didn't tell me that marrying
Miss De Marco was your fantasy.

I'm sorry, Mr. Roarke.

But it's been my whole fantasy
ever since I first laid eyes on her.

And there ain't
nobody or nothing

gonna keep me from marrying
up with her, Mr. Roarke.

Nobody.

It's no good. I'm
sloppy. I'm terrible!

You're simply too tired. You
have been rehearsing a great deal.

No, it's my legs.

They're no good.
It was too long.

With a talent like yours,
nothing is ever too long.

I am an athlete.

My muscles are supposed
to be musical instruments.

Shall we go back to work? No!

Oh, Valeska De Marco, a quitter.

I don't believe it.

I have no choice.

Well, face reality, Valeska.

Eight years have gone by.

Your savings, they've run out.

I wish to God I had
the money to give you.

I don't take charity.

You'll soon be forced to unless
you buckle down to dancing.

Selena, you have just
seen me. I can't do it.

For your very own
sake, my dear friend, try.

Rather than reading
the entire will at this time,

I think I'll just summarize it.

That is if there
are no objections.

Very well, then.

Um, simply put,

Duncan Devereaux left an
estate of 10 million dollars

to be divided equally
among the four of you.

The will also stipulates that
should any of the beneficiaries

die before probate,

then the dead person's portion is
to be divided among the survivors.

Well, then,

and I am speaking
theoretically, of course,

if there's only one survivor
at the time of probate,

the entire 10
million goes to him

or her.

Correct.

But of course, such an
eventuality will never come to pass.

If you mean foul
play from one of us...

I mean, after all, we're
a loving family, right?

Right.

Certainly.

Positively.

Of course.

The window! Somebody
give me a hand.

Oh, I wish I'd stayed at home.

Try the lights.

Everybody stay calm!

They don't work.

Candles. Let's
find some candles.

I'll look upstairs.

Nicky, I'm coming with you.

Let's check in the library.

I've gotta find a phone
and call the boss.

We'll go find some candles.

It's so dark in here.
I'm blind as a bat.

The phone must
be somewhere here.

Oh, hey, I found some matches.

What was that? Who is here?

It's only me.

I have some good news
and some bad news.

What's the good news?

The good news is
I found the phone.

The bad news is
the wire's been cut.

I'm gonna go and get the boss.

That was a gunshot!

Where did it come from?

From there!

He's dead.

The will is gone.

Open it.

Todd, what are you
doing here on the island?

Well, I've just been
following you around.

What else is new? Here you go.

Oh!

It's lovely.

Valeska, why don't you give up this
pipe dream, this... This comeback?

Marry me. We can
be back in Boston

in time for the opening of
the Todd Sinclair Art Museum.

Remember that Renoir
collection that I was trying to buy?

I've got it. Mmm-hmm.

Am I the next?

I hope so.

I've been trying to get
you to marry me for years.

Say yes. We can be
out of here in an hour.

Oh, always the same.

Men falling madly
in love with her.

Todd has been
following her for years

and now that cowboy.

Big Jake is a man
of many qualities.

What difference does it make?

Valeska has only
one love, the dance.

And if she fails
tomorrow, what then?

What happens to a butterfly
when you pull off its wings?

She will die inside

and she'll end up marrying Todd.

But it won't matter.

If she fails tomorrow,
it will kill her inside.

Well, we do seem to
have a killer amongst us.

The question is, who?

Why doesn't someone
call the police?

The telephone wire is cut.

And in this storm, nobody can
make it down the cliff for help.

Let's face it
folks, we're stuck.

The Contessa's right.

I suggest we all
retire to our rooms

and lock the
doors until morning.

Hopefully, this storm
will pass by then.

Good night.

Guess he's right.

Wait for me. Nick!

A killer on the loose
and they're going to bed.

Where're we going?

To lock the Contessa in her
room and then have a look around.

What happens now?

Well, with mayhem in the air,
I just might need an equalizer.

What's wrong?

My gun! I had it in my purse.

Somebody must've stolen it.

Oh!

I'm some kind of detective.

I even get my
own gun ripped off.

Don't worry. You still have me.

Thanks, Tattoo.

Gee, I guess I'm blowing it.

All my life I wanted
to be a detective.

I was a real Nancy Drew freak.

I read every one of her
books at least six times.

And I did so much
to prepare myself.

I even took karate lessons.

You know karate?

First in my class.

What am I gonna do, Tattoo?

Well, first find the will,
and then you get your killer.

That's ridiculous.

Why?

'Cause I've got the will.

I glommed onto it
when the lights went out.

What for?

To read.

Always check the fine print.

That's chapter three in
my correspondence course.

You better get some sleep.

Good night.

The will must be here somewhere.

Shh.

Just so y'all got choice seats,

I bought out this
entire performance.

So, you know, just kind of
spread out and look like a crowd.

Sit down over here, okay? It's been
a long time since she's performed.

Hey! You there,

I didn't see you come in here.

Let's see your ticket.

I... I don't have a ticket.

Then you'll have to leave.

Oh, please let me stay. I just
have to see Valeska De Marco.

My dance teacher says Miss De
Marco's the greatest since Pavlova.

Out! Please.

Hey, let go of her, partner.

I bought out this entire
shootin' match here.

She stays.

Hey, come on. Come on,
partner, mosey on outta here.

Thank you, mister.

You're welcome, ma'am.

Mind if I join you? No.

Valeska, get up!
You must get up!

I can't do it anymore. I can't.

Good morning, Contessa.

I made some coffee.
Would you care for some?

No, thanks.

Where is everybody?

Now, that's a good question.

Pepperhill has met
his maker, of course.

But now it seems that
dear Sylvia has disappeared.

Disappeared?

Also, Sam Blade is missing.

He went out last night to
check the road conditions

and hasn't come back.

At least he's
nowhere in the manor.

I'll go outside and have another look
for him as soon as I finish my coffee.

Mmm. Come, sit down.

Oh, where is your
friend, Miss, uh...

Smith. She's...
She's in her room.

Smith.

Surely you could have thought
up a more original alias than that.

What do you mean?

What I mean is that you're no more
the Contessa than I'm a choirboy.

You're wrong. My name is...

I assume that your friend
Lois Smith is my real cousin?

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

Stop lying, my dear.

You're too nice and too
normal to be a part of this family.

Who are you?

You're... You're afraid
of me, aren't you? Ah.

Well, that's understandable, but
you really have no reason to be.

I, uh... I think I
better go outside

and see if I can find Blade.

You, uh... You take care now.

It'd be a shame if
anything happened to you.

Sylvia's missing. What?

And Mr. Blade's missing, too. And... And
Nicky Devereaux knows who you really are.

He says we don't
have to be afraid of him

and he's really kind of
nice, but I don't trust him.

I don't trust anybody
in this creepy place.

Give me your hand.

Contessa?

Any news of the Contessa?

No. It's crazy! She... She
can't have vanished into thin air!

What's happening here?

Where is everybody?
Where have they all gone?

I don't know, but I think we
should go before we're gone, too.

No, Tattoo, we can't.

I'll never be a private eye if I
run away from my first case.

Follow me. Where to?

Contessa!

What are you doing in there?

Turn around. You'll find out.

You!

You were supposed to be dead.

A ruse, my little friend.

I faked my own murder so I could
be free to imprison the real Contessa,

Mr. Blade, Miss
Devereaux and her brother.

That's my gun you have.

What are you
going to do with us?

First, I am going to cage
you up with the others.

Second, you see that door there?

It holds back the sea.

When I open it at high tide,

this entire chamber
will be flooded.

Then when the tide recedes,

I'll make sure your bodies are
washed out to sea and lost forever.

Just as Duncan Devereaux's body
was when I pushed him off his yacht.

Now move it!

Uh... Uh... Just in case you're
interested, Mr. Pepperhill,

I know why you're doing this.

Really? Well, let's
hear your theory.

It's not a theory. It's fact.

I read the will last
night. All of the fine print.

So you're the one
who stole the will.

There's a special proviso.

If all of the heirs are
dead, the entire estate

goes to his faithful friend,
lawyer, and business manager.

Namely me.

Mr. Pepperhill, I arrest you for
the murder of Duncan Devereaux.

Stand back, or I'll shoot.

Be careful, Betty.

Go ahead and shoot.

That gun is loaded with blanks.

Betty! On your feet!

Yes, get up! Hurry!
Get on your feet!

Hey, you're an amazing girl.

There's just gotta be something
I can do for her, Mr. Roarke.

No. No one can help her
dance again as she once could.

But I just can't let her run
off with that there Todd feller.

She'll wilt to seed,
frettin' her heart out.

Did you have any specific
plan in mind, Mr. Farley?

No.

Then perhaps you
would consider entering

into a slight
conspiracy with me.

You just show me
the way, partner.

Hey, we have a plane to catch.

Now get that thing out of the
road. What's it doing there?

We can't.

Sorry about that, fella.

I'm sorry, Mr. Sinclair.

It's part of a guest's fantasy.

A middle-aged man who
was 4-F during the war

and wants to be a hero.

I'm terribly sorry.

We are out of gas. You
better call the tank club.

Listen. Hmm?

That music. Yes?

That ballet was written for me.

Who could be using my music?

Well, why don't you go
inside and find out for yourself?

That girl, she was at the
performance yesterday.

She's very good
for a child. Yes.

Tighten your penchees.

Tighten them.

No, don't look down.

Your audience is out here.

You're shifting your
center of weight.

No, continue. Continue.

Your spotting and
turns are quite good.

But you're drooping your elbows.

No, no, no, more extension.

Yep, this is where
you belong now.

Lady, ain't you got any idea

how much dance savvy
you got stored up inside

that pretty little
head of yours?

Well, you gotta share it

with young'uns
like the girl there.

You mean teach?

No I... I couldn't.

What in tarnation do you think
you've been doing just now?

Well, I just didn't want to see such a
talented child make mistakes like that.

That is what
teaching is all about.

Look, you could
open your own school.

I'll build you a whole string of
schools, if that's what you want.

Why would you do that for me?

Well, uh, you see,
all these years,

I've been mooning
about some fantasy girl.

I been chasing
rainbows, you know,

and I didn't know whether
she was a dream or real.

Now I know.

She sure is real.

Valeska, my dear, we
have to catch that plane.

Well... Excuse me, ma'am.

Big Jake, don't!

Go find your own parade!

Hang it all, ma'am.

Can't you see I'm through
pussyfooting around with words?

I wanna herd you back
to Big D on my arm.

I'm asking you to marry me.

Well, do you own a
Renoir or a Picasso?

No, ma'am. But I got me
three Cads and a Mercedes.

Oh!

Oh... Don't ever stop
working, my dear.

If you want to be a dancer,
you've gotta work hard.

Now, uh, where did
you say this Big D was?

Just a mite south
of heaven, ma'am.

Thank you so much.
Goodbye, Contessa. A pleasure.

Tattoo. Thank you.

Blade, goodbye.
Pleasant journey.

Thank you.

Miss Devereaux, a great
pleasure. Thank you very much.

Goodbye.

Well, Mr. Roarke, I guess I'm
not cut out to be a detective.

Now, perhaps you're being
too hard on yourself, Miss Foster.

No, I'm not.

I mean, when a girl can't
even hold onto her own gun,

it's time to hang it up.

But at least I can
get my old job back.

And what is your old job?

I was a counter girl in the fast food
franchise called Hippity Hot Dog.

Well, isn't that a coincidence.

You know, my brother Duncan was
majority stockholder in Hippity Hot Dog.

He was? Well, that's right.

And I'll be taking the
company over now.

You know, the trouble is,

I need someone with experience
to help me learn the ropes.

Would you be interested?

Well...

We could... We could
talk it over in the air.

Okay.

Well, where are the two of
you headed, if I may ask?

To eight and plum.

Eight and plum?

Yes, that's eight
miles outside of Dallas

and plum into the most
beautiful countryside

you have ever laid your eyes on.

Goodbye, Mr. Roarke.
Goodbye, Madame.

Bye, Tattoo.

Thanks, Mr. Roarke, for making
my fantasy last the rest of my life.

You know something?

You're a good old boy.

Thank you, Mr. Farley.

See you later, Tattoo. Bye.