Mister Ed (1958–1966): Season 2, Episode 12 - The Wrestler - full transcript

Wilbur and Roger buy the contract of a professional heavyweight wrestler.

Hello. I'm Mister Ed.

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And no one can talk
to a horse, of course ♪

♪ That is, of course,
unless the horse ♪

♪ Is the famous Mister Ed ♪

♪ Go right to the source
and ask the horse ♪

♪ He'll give you the answer ♪

♪ That you'll endorse ♪

♪ He's always on
a steady course ♪

♪ Talk to Mister Ed ♪

He spends our money
on everything but me.



- Ed, stop brooding.
- Well...

Just because
some pretty little filly

snubbed you in the park.
You can't win them all.

I gave her my personality smile,

and she just laughed at me.

Well, maybe she goes for
those tall black horses, huh?

She didn't like the way I dress.

Ed, let's face it. You
never were a clothes horse.

I've got the sloppiest
saddle in town.

It's old. I'm ashamed
to be seen in it.

Ed, I am not gonna
buy you a new saddle

just because some horse
gave you the cold shoulder.

They're too expensive.

Well, you've got money
for your wife's ballet lessons.



That's right. And
when you take up ballet,

I'll gladly pay for
your lessons, too.

Look, Wilbur.

It's been years, and it's all
beginning to come back to me.

- That's very good, Carol.
- You see, every ballet figure
has a meaning.

Now, this means
the ballet dancer

is happy and excited.

Ah. You know what this means?

It means the husband
is hungry, and get lunch.

Oh, can you just
wait a little while?

Our teacher is due
over at Kay's any minute.

You see, I talked her into
taking ballet lessons, too.

Oh, it's the greatest
way to exercise.

We both want to lose
about 7 or 8 pounds.

You keep that up, you'll
have the skinniest toes in town.

Carol, the ballet
teacher just arrived.

My dying swan
is waiting for you.

Thanks, Rog. Say, how
did you like Kay in leotards?

She looks like a plucked chicken

trying to wriggle
off a butcher hook.

I'll tell her what you said.

- You had your lunch?
- No. Why?

I think you just
lost your dinner.

Well, the way Kay cooks,
my loss is my stomach's gain.

You know, the darnedest
thing happened to me today.

What?

Well, quite some time ago,

I sold a piece of property to
a fellow named Barney Harris.

He manages wrestlers.

Well, now he tells me he
can't make the last payment.

- But he's made me an offer.
- What's that?

He wants to give me a wrestler.

Now, what am I going
to do with a wrestler?

If he can cook,
you got a good deal.

Who is this wrestler,
Rog? Anybody we know?

It's a fella named Tiger Davis.

And according to Barney,
this kid could be a champ.

No kidding? Hey, that
might be a good move.

You know, these wrestlers
make a lot of money.

Say, then you think I better
take Barney's offer, huh?

Well, let's not be
too hasty, Rog.

I mean, I... I happen
to know a little bit about

this wrestling game.

I ever tell you that I was once
the intercollegiate wrestling champ?

Two minutes after you
were introduced to me.

No, no, no. I don't think so.

Roger Addison,
wrestling manager.

No, no. My friends would
think I'm some kind of a nut.

Why not? I mean, it might
be very exciting, colorful.

Get your name in
the paper all the time.

Be interviewed on
television with Tiger Davis.

Open up a whole
new world for you.

Yeah. Yeah.

Hey, do you wanna buy a
half-interest in The Tiger?

No. My friends would
think I'm some kind of nut.

I'll tell you what
I'll do, Roger.

I'll go take a look at this wrestler
for you and give you my opinion.

Fine. He's working
out at McCleary's Gym.

We could drive
down there right now.

- I better go up
and get changed.
- Good.

Oh, let's just hope

that this Tiger doesn't
turn out to be a pussycat.

Oh, Tiger. Tiger.

Yes, Mr. Harris?

Mr. Addison phoned and said
he's coming down to look you over.

Start warming up
with Big Boy here.

Mr. Harris, can I
have a sandwich first?

I had such a light lunch.

You've already had
12 light lunches today.

Now, look, Tiger, you've
got to stay in condition.

You eat too much.
Okay, boys, let's wrestle.

Come on, Big Boy. Get in there.

Mix. Move it around. Come on.

That's it. Move it.

Mr. Harris, can't I have
a corned beef sandwich?

What?

On rye?

And a lot of mustard, huh?

There he is, Wilbur.
That is The Tiger.

- Top or bottom?
- Bottom.

Come on. We can
beat the traffic home.

Hey, wait. He's up.

That's the way to do it, Tiger.

Hi...

Somehow I don't
think he's got the stuff

that champions are made of.

- Hello, Roger.
- Hello, Barney.

- Nice to see you.
- Thank you.

Barney Harris,
this is Wilbur Post,

and Wilbur is my
next door neighbor.

- Mr. Post.
- How do you do?

Barney is The Tiger's manager.

Oh, Wilbur won

the middleweight
wrestling title in college.

- No kidding.
- Mm-hmm.

They used to
call me Killer Post.

Hey. Look.

Hey!

Well, Wilbur?

Now what do you
think of my wrestler?

You mean our wrestler, partner.

Ha ha. I knew you'd
change your mind

once you saw him.

Barney, we've got a deal.

Good. I'll get the contracts.

Oh, Tiger. Tiger!

This is Mr. Addison,
your new manager.

He's going to take
over your contract.

Hiya, Tiger.

I'll do my best for
you, Mr. Addison.

This is his partner, Mr. Post.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Whoa!

Get up, Wilbur, and
stop showing off.

All I said was hello.

How about that
Tiger? Isn't he great?

I'll get the contracts.

You're my new managers, huh?

That's right, my boy.
We should be able

to go all the way
to the top together.

The important thing is for
you never to be on the bottom.

I get it, Mr. Post.

Where can I bring
my clothes and stuff?

What do you mean?

Now that I won't be
living with Barney,

I guess I'll be
staying with you.

Uh... would you
excuse us a moment?

Sure.

Wilbur, what's the chance

of Tiger Davis staying with you?

Pretty good.

There's not much chance
of Carol staying with me.

You've got a bigger house.

I've also got a bigger wife.

Now remember, I
made you a partner.

So did Carol.

And I've been doing
business with her

a lot longer.

Why don't we just tell the girls

and let them decide?

Okay.

But I got an idea

there's going to
be three new faces

at the YMCA tonight.

Kay. Big Daddy's home.

Now,

I've had more experience
handling women.

Let me carry the ball.

Okay, Rog, you carry the ball.

If you want me, I'll be
hiding in the locker room.

Do we have some
exciting news for you girls.

Wilbur and I have just
made a fabulous investment.

So I look like a plucked chicken

trying to wriggle
off a butcher hook.

Oh, what was this
fabulous investment?

Well, it may sound like a
rather strange business venture,

but it can be very profitable.

Wilbur will tell
you all about it.

Oh.

Oh, you're very good
at carrying the ball, Rog.

You're not bad at
passing the buck, either.

Wilbur, what have
you and Roger done?

- We want the truth.
- Well...

You're lying.

You'd better let me
take over, Big Daddy.

The whole thing is
very simple, you see.

Rog and I just chipped in,
and we bought a wrestler.

They bought a wrestler.

We should never have
taken them off the leash.

There's a lot of money in
the wrestling game, girls,

oh, and you'll like The Tiger.

You bought a
wrestler and a tiger?

What is it, a circus act?

No, no. That's his
name... Tiger Davis.

He's a very promising
heavyweight,

and Rog feels that we'll
make a fortune with him.

He'll be dropping
by any minute now.

We have to decide whose
house he's going to stay at.

What?

I'm not going to
have any hairy ape

running loose around my house.

Well now, that sort of narrows
it down, doesn't it, Rog?

Must be The Tiger now.

What are we going to tell him?

That we don't have
any room for him.

I'll tell him myself.

Hello. I'm Tiger Davis.

You must be
Mr. Addison's daughter.

Why, no.

I'm his wife.

I'm sorry.

Why? That's the sweetest
thing I've heard in years.

Won't you come
right in, Mr. Davis?

Right in.

Hello, Tiger.

Hello, Mr. Post.
Hi, Mr. Addison.

Tiger, I want you
to meet Mrs. Post.

This is Tiger Davis.

I remember you, Mrs. Post.

Two years ago.

The Miss Universe contest.

Oh. Well, thank you.

But that was someone else.

Well, I'd better get
your room ready.

Uh, don't bother, sweetie.

We have more than
enough room here.

Well, actually, Kay,
if Carol doesn't m...

You stay out of this, Father.

Well, how about
that barn back there?

I get up pretty early.

I wouldn't want
to bother anybody.

Yeah, we could fix it up.

I'm sure Ed wouldn't mind.

I get along with everybody.

Does he play gin?

Ed is my horse.

He doesn't play gin,

but I wouldn't let him talk you

into any poker games.

You're so thin to be a wrestler.

Uh, have you had lunch yet?

Oh, please don't bother.

- I don't eat much.
- Oh, no bother at all.

You've got to keep
your strength up.

We've got lots of cold cuts.

And I have some potato salad.

I'll bring it right over.

Only way to get a
meal around here

is to be a wrestler.

I think our Tiger
has found himself

a couple of mother hens.

If I got to wear an old saddle,

it's got to be a clean one.

Not too hot, not too cold.

Might as well rinse
out my undies, too.

♪ Oh, this is the way
we wash our clothes ♪

♪ Wash our clothes,
wash our clothes ♪

♪ This is the way
we wash our clothes ♪

♪ Every Monday morning ♪

- What are you doing?
- My laundry.

That is your
saddle. You'll ruin it.

And then we'd have to buy
me a new one, wouldn't we?

You're not getting a new one.

Aw.

And just remember,
this soggy saddle

is going on your back.

And your pants.

Honestly, Ed, just because

a few fillies pass
you up in the park,

you act like a spoiled child.

- Who does?
- Ed. He sometimes...

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

Uh, Tiger, did you
have enough lunch?

Oh, yeah.

Your wife and Mrs.
Addison really stuffed me.

I couldn't eat another bite.

What time's dinner?

6:30.

Uh, Tiger,

I think you should be cutting
down on those desserts.

We've lined up a match
for you with The Apache Kid

- a week from this Thursday.
- The Apache Kid?

You mean Hymie Rosenblatt.

I'll kill him.

This is Ed, huh?

Hi, fella.

Ohh!

You, uh, like horses, Tiger?

Oh, yeah. This is a
great-looking fella.

Ohh!

You and me's gonna
get along just fine.

Just fine.

Tiger, are you all right?

Yeah, fine.

I guess I scared him.

Uh, a little road work
will dry me right off.

I'll see you later, Mr. Post.

Bye, fella.

Ed, why did you knock him down?

Self-defense.

He was beating my brains out.

Who is he?

He's a wrestler. Tiger Davis.

Mr. Addison and I
bought his contract.

Uh, he's going to be staying
here in the barn with you

for a little while.

Oh, no.

I'll wind up with
a cauliflower tail.

Look, Ed, I'll make
a deal with you.

You let him stay here,

and I'll buy you that saddle

with the winnings
from his first match.

Okay. Let's shake on it.

Chow time.

Gee, Mrs. Post,
that looks delicious.

Oh, good.

Are you feeding him again?

He just had dinner
at the Addisons'.

Well, nothing looks worse

than a bony,
undernourished wrestler.

The way you're
stuffing The Tiger,

we're going to wind
up with a hippopotamus.

Have another stack
of pancakes, Tiger.

Oh, boy.

Gee, Mrs. Addison,

you sure make me feel at home.

Where's the
morning paper? I le...

Don't tell me he ate it.

He eats more than that
elephant you had in there.

The more weight the better
when it comes to wres...

Shucks, Mr. Addison.

Wilbur, I told you
to speak to him

about eating between meals.

I did, but he's never
between meals.

He's always right at them.

We've hired Gorilla Gomez
to work out with you today.

Now come on, get with
it. Where are your trunks?

I'm having them
let out a little.

I knew it. I knew it.

Go put on your robe.

I'm having that
let out a little, too.

Tiger, I just bought some
fresh doughnuts from the bakery.

Gee, thanks, Mrs. Post.

No, you don't. You give
me those doughnuts.

They won't hurt me, Mr. Post.

I'm in great shape, honest.

No, you are not. Now
give me those doughnuts.

Let go of those doughnuts.

Aah!

- Ahh!
- Here, Rog, take them.

Aah!

Now, Tiger, you've
got a fight next week,

and you've got to
get into condition.

I am in condition.

Please let me up, Mr. Post.

Not until you promise
that you'll start training.

Mr. Post, you're hurting my arm.

I am?

Wilbur, get off.

Roger, make Wilbur let Tiger up.

Wilbur, you let...
Tiger, I order you

to throw that bag of
bones off your chest.

What's going on here?

Mrs. Addison, help me.

If you'll excuse me,

I'm going to my room
and have a good cry.

Save me a handkerchief, Rog.

What happened?

I'm afraid the boys were right.

He's in no condition
to wrestle next week.

And it's our fault.

I guess I have
gained a little weight.

And I know just the
way he can take it off.

The very best way.

And sway, 2, 3,
and jêté, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

Glissade to jêté, arabesque.

Kay.

Glissade to jêté, arabesque.

Very good.

Excellent. And in
such a short time, too.

I've never seen
such natural ability.

It's a lot more fun than
working out in a gym.

And you couldn't ask for
nicer sparring partners.

Shall we all assume
the first position?

Ready? And plié.

And step, 2, 3, and jêté, 2, 3.

- You were right.
- Shall we all assume
the first position?

The Tiger is a pussycat.

- Ready?
- A fat pussycat.

Not for long. Ask Miss Canfield.

Ballet's the quickest
way to lose weight.

And wrestlers are the
quickest way to lose money.

It's a great way to tone
up, Mr. Post. Look at this.

Rog, let's just
try to think of this

as something we'll
look back on someday

and laugh about.

Congratulations.

You ladies have just
become the proud owners

of whatever it is.

Tiger's match goes on at 8:00.

And the services
will be at 8:02.

Don't send flowers.

Just make a donation
to your favorite bakery.

And how about that new saddle?

I told you, Ed. If Tiger wins,

I'll buy you one out of my
share of the purse tonight.

I have a feeling

the fillies will still be
calling me Raggedy Ed.

Well, no use putting it off.

Hi.

Come to see our boy get it?

You'll excuse me if I
seem a little nervous.

This is my first execution.

What worries me
is how are the girls

going to carry him home tonight.

It'll be pitiful, pitiful.

First time Tiger
hits that floor,

there's going to be a
fallout of fat for 30 miles.

Here he comes.

If we might be a little candid,

I would say we should
have Swan Lake being played

instead of the accompaniment

of the hoots and
cheers of the crowd.

The Apache Kid can't wait

to get his claws on
this young fellow.

Tiger Davis seems to be
showing a little reluctance

about coming out of his corner.

The referee is checking him

for any apparent,
uh, body ointments...

Oil, we mean.

There's the bell
starting the match.

Now maybe we can see

what Tiger Davis will do
when the chips are down.

Wham. He really
hit him that time.

Every time he hits
him, he hurts his hands.

And he had rather tender hands.

Tiger has a remarkable agility,

and of course he's
just about as loose

as any athlete we've ever seen.

There goes a
really graceful leap,

sort of a arabesque on the bias.

The Apache Kid is one

of the toughest
guys in the business,

but he can't quite figure
out young Tiger Davis.

Tiger Davis is riding

in the third race
at Santa Anita,

and he's just turned his
steed in the right direction...

Heading for home.

Stop, Tiger.

Might lose a couple of fingers.

The Apache Kid
got spanked for that.

"Naughty, naughty,"
says Tiger Davis.

You know, Tiger Davis is
really a rough, tough little guy,

and he has a brand-new
approach to the game.

No kidding about that.

The Apache Kid has never
seen anything like this before.

Neither have we,

and, uh, I'd hazard a
guess, neither have you.

Pirouette scissors
by the ankles,

and The Apache Kid
almost lost his beard

on that little bit.

Here's the count. 1, 2, 3...

Tiger Davis, the winner.

Hey. What?

Ah, Wilbur, we can't miss.

We'll take him on
tour of the country.

New York, Chicago, Philadelphia,

all the top arenas.

I always figured he had it, Rog.

I knew there was a wrestler

somewhere under
all that blubber.

Did you see it?
Were you watching?

Wasn't he wonderful?

We didn't miss a
step. He was great.

I've never seen
anything like it.

And you girls
deserve all the credit.

And you g... I was
just going to say it.

Oh, where is that grand boy?

We've got wonderful
plans for him.

So does Mr. Luellen.

He's giving The Tiger
a two-year contract

at a thousand dollars a week.

We're rich. We're rich.

For his birthday, I'll
buy him a mink tutu.

Wait a minute.

This Mr. Luellen,

what is he, a
wrestling promoter?

Oh, no. He owns
a ballet company.

A ballet company?

Uh-huh. He thinks The
Tiger has great talent,

and he's going to
make him a ballet star.

Well, we've lost a Tiger, Rog,

but the world has gained a swan.

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And no one can talk
to a horse, of course ♪

♪ That is, of course,
unless the horse ♪

♪ Is the famous Mister Ed ♪

♪ Go right to the source
and ask the horse ♪

♪ He'll give you the answer ♪

♪ That you'll endorse ♪

♪ He's always on
a steady course ♪

♪ Talk to Mister Ed ♪

♪ People yakkity-yak a streak ♪

♪ And waste your time of day ♪

♪ But Mister Ed
will never speak ♪

♪ Unless he has
something to say ♪

♪ A horse is a horse,
of course, of course ♪

♪ And this one will talk
till his voice is hoarse ♪

♪ You never heard
of a talking horse? ♪

♪ Well, listen to this ♪

♪ I am Mister Ed ♪

Closed-Captioned By J.R.
Media Services, Inc. Burbank, CA

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television presentation.