Mister Ed (1958–1966): Season 2, Episode 8 - Mister Ed's Blues - full transcript

[whinnies]

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 ♪



[Man singing on radio]
♪ She'd be mine today ♪

♪♪ [Mister Ed
humming along with song]

♪♪ [continues]

Hey, Wilbur. Wilbur,
let's get going.

You know, I get a kick out of it

every time they play that song.

It's still going strong,
and I wrote it last year.

You wrote? [laughs]

You mean I wrote.

Since you don't want
anybody to know that you talk,

why, I had to take the credit.

And those fat royalty checks.

- ♪♪ [song ends]
- Stop complaining.

- Well...
- [radio shuts off]



Ed, do you remember Mrs.
Addison's brother, Paul Fenton?

Yeah. What about him?

Well, he's been
after me for months

to write another song like my...

- Hmm.
- Like our "Pretty Little Filly"

for his music
publishing company.

Come on, Wilbur. Hurry it up.

[sighs]

My Sabrina.

Aha!

Can't wait to see
your girlfriend, huh?

[sighs] Just look at Sabrina.

Ever see such kissable lips?

Yeah. Like two
beautiful bicycle pedals.

You can say that again.

She's a nice-looking horse, Ed,

but a little hippy,
don't you think?

No. [laughing]

Everything's in the right place.

Ed, why don't you write a
love song about Sabrina?

Who's got time? I'm
too busy making love.

Hello, Sabrina.

Ah, you're getting kind
of chubby, aren't you?

Oh, you...

- Hi, Andy.
- Hey, Wilbur.

[sputtering]

Just coffee, Al. Thanks.

Say, your Mister Ed's really
sweet on my horse, isn't he?

Yeah.

Hey, here comes Harvey Wells.

That horse of his, Robespierre,
is a handsome animal, isn't he?

- Hi, Harve.
- Hi.

[sputtering]

[whinnies]

I'm going to have to
teach Sabrina how to bowl.

I think I'll hook this
one in the 1-3 pocket.

Wow.

I wonder if there's a
pony league for bowling.

Oh, honey, look.

Mayfair's is running a
sale on cocktail dresses.

What do you think of them?

Hmm. I like the style,

but the prices
seem a little too high.

[door opens]

My brother-in-law just drove up.

Quick, hide me.

And remember, if he rings the
bell, you don't know where I am.

Oh, Roger, the way you carry on
about Kay's brother is ridiculous.

Yeah, you should
try to like Paul, Roger.

I know he needles you
and gives you a hard time,

but underneath it all, I have
a feeling he really hates you.

- That's not very funny.
- [car door closes]

There he is.

Remember, you
don't know where I am.

[doorbell rings]

Wilbur, baby! How's my boy?

Carol, sweetie pie, you're
looking more gorgeous than ever.

- Oh, Paul.
- If I weren't a married man,

I could really go for this girl.

Well, I am, and I do.

Say, I heard "Pretty Little
Filly" on the radio this morning.

Yeah, it was great. That was a
swell number you wrote for me, kid.

It must be a year since
you published Wilbur's song.

And it's been a year since
my company's had a hit,

and that's why I'm here.

Wilbur, the blues are coming
back bigger than ever this year,

and that's what I
need right now...

A good sock blues number.

You're going to sit down
and write me a hit song.

Oh, Paul, I'm an architect.

I mean, I admit, I got
lucky with "Pretty Little Filly,"

but that doesn't
make me a songwriter.

What are you talking about?

Anybody who can write a
hit song like "Pretty Little Filly"

is just loaded with talent,

and if you can
write a love song,

you can write a blues number.

Because anybody who's
got talent can do anything.

Right, Roger?

And you got to
work fast, Wilbur.

There's a lot of companies
coming out with some new stuff,

and I've got to beat
them to the punch.

Roger, what were you doing
in there? Developing pictures?

You may not believe this,

but I had a very good
reason for being in there.

Really? What?

I was hiding from you.

Well, that's a
pretty wild story.

But you know
something? I believe him.

Wilbur, how long do you
think it would take you

to write this song for Paul?

Oh, well, it all depends.

Paul, do you want
a plain, ordinary hit,

or an immortal classic?

Hey, you're getting to
be a real sharpshooter.

[chuckles] Thanks.

You know what I'd
like for my birthday?

No, what?

Two pairs of bowling shoes.

Okay, Ed, if you do me a favor.

You've got a deal.

What's the favor.

Well, Paul Fenton dropped by.

Oh.

He wants me to write a song
for his publishing company.

Oh, yeah.

Here, Ed. Have a carrot.

Thank you.

Mm, imported.

You were saying?

Well, he said he wants
a blues number now.

You see, that's the trend.

So I told him I'd
see what I could do.

You mean what I could do.

Well, that's what I meant, yes.

Well? What about it?

Well, I don't dig
writing the blues, pops.

Why not?

I'm, like, a happy,
swinging cat, man.

Try Ella Fitzgerald's horse.

Come on, Ed.

You wrote "Pretty Little Filly,"

and that was a big hit.

Here is your chance
to write another song.

No, man. I made the
scene with one gasser,

and I'm, like, through.

Come on, Ed. Give it a try.

Look, I'll see if I can
put you in the mood.

[croons] ♪ Oh, I got the blues ♪

♪ I got those
eating carrot blues ♪

Oh, brother.

♪ I got ♪

♪ I got those carrot blues ♪

♪ I got the eating
carrot blues ♪

♪ Oh, I get the blues ♪

♪ When I eat a carrot ♪

♪ I get the blues
when I look at a parrot ♪

♪ I got those
imported carrot blues ♪

♪ I... ♪

Hi, Paul.

Uh, Wilbur, do you
always sing to your horse?

Well, I find it
helps me compose.

Horses have a great
sense of pitch, you know.

All animals do.

You take cats. The
best violin strings.

Come on, Ed.

Go on, Ed. Go on.

Wilbur, you don't have
to explain anything to me.

As far as I'm concerned,
all composers are kooks.

Yeah, well...

Now, Wilbur, if
singing to your horse

is going to help you
to write a hit song,

I'll take you to Santa Anita.
We'll do a whole album.

Okay? [laughs]

Wilbur, you don't
seem to understand.

I came over here privately

to tell you how important
this song is to me.

If my company doesn't
come up with a hit pretty soon,

I'm going to be out of business.

Is it that bad, Paul? I'm sorry.

Wilbur, I'm depending on you.

Your first song
was lucky for me,

and I've got a hunch
you can pull me out of this.

Yeah, well, I'll do
the best I can, Paul.

I'll really keep my
nose to the feedbag.

- The...
- The grindstone.

Okay, Wilbur. You get in
there and start slugging.

I'm depending on you. I know
you'll come up with a hit song.

Soon as you feel you have
something good, just call me.

Okay. Oh, I'll be
right next door.

Next door?

Yeah, yeah. I'm staying
with Roger and Kate

until you come up
with that hit song, baby.

Oh, you artists.

You need somebody to
keep pushing you all the time.

Yeah. What did Roger say
about you staying with him?

Roger? Who knows.

He's so difficult to
understand when he's crying.

Well, it's hard to tell
how long it might take.

I know you can do it. Get
in there. Keep slugging.

Keep pitching. You'll be great.

Atta boy. Don't forget, call me.

Ah, temper, temper.

June? Spoon?

Croon? Moon?

Spittoon.

Tears? Dears? Fears?

And two beers.

I got it!

Oh, Wilbur, I'm sorry.

I didn't want to disturb you
while you were composing.

It's all right, dear.

Honey, maybe I can help.

Would you like to
try anything on me?

No, honey, there's nothing to...

Yes, yes. There is
something I can try on you.

Second chorus, please.

You know, honey, it's
hard to write the blues

when you've got a lovely house,

a car, a horse, a
woman you love...

Not necessarily in that order.

Well, honey, if it'll help
put you in the mood,

I'll try to make you
miserable for a few days.

You couldn't make me miserable.

Miserable. Sure!

Make him miserable, that's it.

Wilbur.

Oh, I'm sorry, dear.

Make who miserable?

Honey, if you want me,

I'll be in my office
for the next few hours,

spreading the blues.

Oh, Sabrina, you doll, you.

1,100 pounds of
loveliness, and it's all mine.

Oh, hi, Wilbur.

What are you doing?

Just locking up your carrots.

From now on, you
are on straight hay.

Hay? That's for horses.

What do you think you are?

A songwriter who
earned those carrots.

Yeah? Well, you write
a song about the blues,

you'll get your carrots back.

So you want to make
me miserable, huh?

Ed, the best songwriters
are the hungry ones.

I see you've never
met Fats Domino.

He was skinny till he made it.

SPCA, please.

Oh, no, you don't.

You start writing the blues.

I warn you, we songwriters
have a strong union.

Start writing.

There'll be a picket line.

Start writing.

I'll sue you for every
carrot you've got.

Ed, I don't like to
make you miserable,

but that's the
way it's got to be.

You go ahead.

If you feel like crying,
let the tears come out.

Don't hold back.
Whatever you do,

let the blues come
through. The blues.

Hi, Rog.

Wilbur, I have a brother-in-law
who has moved in on me

and is making my
life sheer agony.

I had hoped you would give
him his song and he would leave.

Instead, I find you standing
here, begging a horse to cry.

Wilbur, please, I implore
you in my hour of need,

don't flip your wig.

Paul's really giving
you a problem, huh?

When he's not talking on the
telephone, he's in the refrigerator.

He's wearing my clothes,
he's eating my food,

he's destroying my house.

He's not a brother-in-law,
he's a 200-pound termite.

Rog, I'm doing the
best I can with the song,

but you can't rush these things.

"Stormy Weather" wasn't
written in one sprinkle.

Why don't you go on home, Rog?

Come on. Rest and relax,

and I'll stick with it until I
come up with something.

Oh, bless you, my boy.

My prayers are with you.

He's pitiful, isn't he?

Ed, that man's in a spot,
and we have to help him.

Now, let's really get in there
and come up with something.

Sure, kid. Meanwhile,
how about a little bowling?

There'll be no bowling.

Then how about
turning on the TV set?

No TV.

Aw, please, Wilbur.

Paladin is riding
a friend of mine.

Ed, until you come
up with a song,

there'll be no carrots,
no bowling, and no TV.

Okay.

I can live without those things.

And you can't see Sabrina.

No Sabrina?

Now you're hitting
below the saddle.

Ed, the sooner
you get miserable,

the sooner you'll
be happy again.

Misery, misery.

No Sabrina. [whimpers]

Cheers, fears...

Wilbur, you got anything
you want to try out for me?

Well, it's coming
kind of slow, Paul.

Wilbur, we got to move
fast. Time is running out.

My accountant just sent me my
financial statement in two words...

Leave town.

Well, I'm trying.
You got to be patient.

As soon as I give
birth to the blues,

you'll get the first cigar.

Atta boy, chickie baby.

Remember, I'm counting on you.

Paul, you'll get that song
if I have to write it myself.

That's the old spirit in there.

Good morning, Ed.

Well? Did you come
up with anything?

Your light was on last
night when I went to bed.

Ed?

[whinnies]

Oh. I know how you
must miss Sabrina, Ed,

and believe me, I
hate to do this to you,

but you got to suffer
to write the blues.

Right, Ed?

Ed, you've been up all night.

Your straw hasn't been slept in.

You all right, fellow?

[whinnies]

Look, Ed, this is the only
way to get into the mood.

You understand, don't you?

[sniffles]

Oh, no, Ed. No.
Don't cry, please, Ed.

[whimpers]

Ed.

Oh, Ed, you know how
I feel about you, fella.

If I had a choice
of letting you suffer

or Paul suffer or
Addison suffer,

I'd let them suffer.

Well, then why am
I doing this to you?

I mean, their problems
aren't my problems,

and they're not your problems.

Why, think of the nerve.
Making my horse miserable.

Ed, I'm going to go
put my riding clothes on,

and before you know it,
you'll be back with Sabrina.

Why'd you stop, Ed? Flat tire?

Look at that stupid Robespierre,

trying to make time
with my baby. Ho ho!

You worried, Ed?

No, Sabrina's a one-horse filly.

Well, let's go, Wilbur.

Let's go? You're on the bottom.

Oh, sorry.

- Hello, Wilbur.
- Hi.

Hi, fellows.

[sniffles]

What's the matter, Ed?

Take me home, Wilbur.

I'm ready to write the blues.

How are you doing,
Ed? Got anything yet?

Yeah, I think so.

Well, what is it?

I call it "The Empty
Feedbag Blues."

Good. Let's hear it.

You mean sing it?

Come on, chickie baby.

[clears throat]

♪ When I get up for breakfast ♪

♪ There's no oats in the bin ♪

♪ Because everything
is going out ♪

♪ And nothing's coming in ♪

♪ Believe me when I tell you ♪

♪ I have heard the news ♪

♪ I got those empty feedbag ♪

♪ Empty feedbag blues ♪

♪ My pretty filly told me ♪

♪ Stay away tonight ♪

♪ Because all that
I bring with me ♪

♪ Is a healthy appetite ♪

♪ Why am I so unlucky? ♪

♪ Me, with four horseshoes ♪

♪ I got those empty feedbag ♪

♪ Empty feedbag blues ♪

Great, Wilbur, great.

Gets you right in here.

You can feel that broken
heart in every note.

You really like it, Paul?

Like it? Like it, Wilbur? That's
the understatement of the year.

Do you realize what you've done?

You've put the Fenton Music
Company back in business.

I got a million people
waiting to hear this.

Wilbur, I can't
thank you enough.

You've done it again,
you've done it again.

"The Empty Feedbag Blues."

Oh, oh, tell Roger I'm going
back to my own apartment,

and tell him I'm sending
him a little thank-you gift...

His clothes.

"The Empty Feedbag Blues,"
"The Empty Feedbag Blues."

Ed, that carrot box
is open permanently,

and I'm throwing away the key.

Well. [sighs]

Ed, you want me to
bring the TV back?

Can I set up the
bowling pins for you?

[sighs]

Oh, I'm sorry you
lost Sabrina, Ed,

but you'll find somebody else.

Wilbur, do they take horses
in the Foreign Legion?

Oh, I'm sorry, Ed.

Gee, it's my fault
you lost Sabrina.

Tell you what I can do...

- I can buy her for you.
- Buy Sabrina?

Sure. Andy said many times

he'd be willing to sell
her if the price was good.

I'll drop around and see
him first thing in the morning.

Wilbur, if she doesn't come
to me of her own free will,

then I say bring
her in on a rope.

I don't see Andy around here.

He must still be asleep.

Hark, I hear the stirring of
my love in her bedchamber.

Look, Ed, maybe we
should come back later, huh?

Please, Wilbur, let me just
look in and say good morning.

Ed, you shouldn't.

Why not? She's
practically Mrs. Ed.

Well, I guess Andy won't mind.

Yoo-hoo, Sabrina.

Are you decent?

Who's that?

Must be Sabrina's
mother or grandmother.

No, that's Sabrina.

See, women just don't look
their best in the mornings.

She looks so old.
She's 18 if she's a day.

No, she's not that old.

No? Well, I'll bet
there's a set of teeth

in that bucket of water.

Ed, stop talking like that.

Come to think of it,
she only chews soft oats.

Like I said, we just
caught her at a bad time.

Look what's hanging
on the wall... Her girdle.

That's just... Golly, it...

That does look like
a girdle, doesn't it?

No, that's just a
wide belly cinch.

And she's got the
wide belly to go with it.

Uh, you know,

I think I better leave
Andy a $50 deposit.

Hold it. You're not
sticking me with that beast.

Ed, Ed, come
back with my wallet.

Poor old Robespierre.
What a shock he's in for.

♪ Feedbag ♪

♪ Empty feedbag blues ♪

"Empty Feedbag Blues."

[both chuckle]

That's quite a
song you wrote, Ed.

Yeah, man. It was,
like, from the heart.

Hand me the phone, Wilbur.

Who you going to call?

Robespierre's owner.

I want Frenchie to see
Sabrina tomorrow morning.

I thought you didn't like him.

I don't, but he's
a fellow horse,

and I wouldn't stick a
dog with a hen like that.

♪ 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 ♪

[Mister Ed] ♪ I am Mister Ed ♪

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

[Man] This has been a
Filmways television presentation.