Petticoat Junction (1963–1970): Season 1, Episode 34 - Bedloe and Son - full transcript

Homer Bedloe returns to Hooterville to try and stop the Cannonball Express. This time, he brings his son with him, who seems to follow in his father's footsteps.

Homer Bedloe was
played to perfection

by the incredible Charles Lane.

Charlie was one of the
finest character actors

Hollywood has ever known.

But as Homer Bedloe, he
was Hooterville's answer

to Ebenezer Scrooge...

Always trying to
kill the Cannonball.

The only worse guy we
knew was Homer Bedloe Jr.,

played by Steve Franken,

who was also seen as Chatsworth
Osborne Jr. on Dobie Gillis.

First broadcast May 12,
1964, meet "Bedloe and Son."



(train whistle blows twice)

♪ Come ride the little train ♪

♪ That is rollin' down the
tracks to the Junction ♪

(bell clanging)

♪ Forget about your cares ♪

♪ It is time to relax
at the Junction ♪

(whistle blows twice)

♪ Lots of curves, you bet ♪

♪ And even more when you get ♪

♪ To the Junction ♪

♪ Petticoat Junction ♪

(snare drum plays train rhythm)

♪ There's a little hotel called
the Shady Rest at the Junction ♪

♪ Petticoat Junction ♪



♪ It is run by Kate, come and
be her guest at the Junction ♪

♪ Petticoat Junction ♪

♪ And that's Uncle Joe,
he's a-movin' kinda slow ♪

♪ At the Junction ♪

♪ Petticoat Junction! ♪

(train whistle blows twice)

(bell clanging)

(train brakes squeaking)

Come on, Floyd, let's hustle!

Here you are, Kate,
the morning mail!

Great, boys, great!

Congratulations!
Isn't that wonderful?

Hold it, hold it, everybody.

We didn't make it, Floyd.

It's 12:02.

Don't take it so hard, boys.

But, Kate, it's the
first time in 20 years

that it appeared like
like we was gonna get

the mornin' mail
here in the mornin'.

You'll-you'll make it
one of these times.

Hot diggity, that sure
would be a red letter day,

wouldn't it, Charley? I
hope to tell you it would.

Now, Floyd, uh,

could-could I look at the
morning mail this afternoon

before it gets to be evenin'?

Oh, sure, here you are.

One postcard addressed to you.

Mr. Bedloe.

Don't tell me we're
gonna have to put up

with that rat Bedloe again.

He'll have another scheme

for closing down the
Cannonball for sure.

Says he's bringing
his son with him.

Wonder what
Mr. Bedloe's son is like.

Junior!

Yes, Dad?

Stop dillydallying
in that stupid station.

You might inadvertently
strike up an acquaintance

with one of those
stupid country hicks.

Well, as a matter of
fact, one of the natives...

A friendly little
old lady did smile

and try to say hello to
me just a moment ago.

Really? What did you do?

I glared at her until her
face turned crimson red

and she was humiliated
into turning away from me.

Good boy! (chuckles)

Ah, isn't that typical?

The stupid
Hooterville Cannonball

is already several
hours late arriving

(whistle blowing)
at this stupid station.

Wasn't that the sound
of its stupid whistle, Dad?

Yes, it was.

A more unpleasant
sound I've yet to hear.

You hate that train worse
than anything in this world,

don't you, Dad? I detest it!

Even more than Mother?

Yes, even more than your mother.

Boy, I'd hate to be that train.

(bell clanging)

Come on, son.

Let's climb aboard.

Get out to that place I've
been telling you about.

The Shady Rest hotel?

Right. That Victorian mass

of potential kindling wood.

Right. That remotely
located eyesore

which defaces the scenery

along the right-of-way
of your railroad.

Right. That antiquated
two-bit hostelry

which houses Kate
Bradley and her brood...

Otherwise known as "the enemy."

That ridiculous backboard...

Now hold it, son. Hold it.

Save some of that
prodigious eloquence

for a time you can
use it on a defeated foe.

Right you are, Dad, as usual.

Smart boy.

(whistle blowing)

(bell clanging, whistle blowing)

(engine chugging, bell clanging)

What do you think of the country

around here, son?
It's very pretty.

Look again.

Oh, a quick glance
and it looks pretty,

but, when you give it a
good look, it's nothing.

Don't you ever forget it!

See in life, my boy,
not what's there,

but what you want
to see. (laughs)

Dad, you are the greatest!

Thank you, son.

You're probably the
most ruthless man

since Ivan the Terrible.

Oh, I wouldn't go that far,

but I'm always
in there pitching.

You bet you are and I can't wait

to see you tear into
this Kate Bradley

and the other rubes around here.

Now hold on, son, hold on.

That isn't the way I operate.

What?!

Oh, now look, Dad, you
said I'd see you in action.

That you'd chomp up
these people once and for all.

You said you'd bring
'em to their knees

and make them suffer.

You promised me this
trip was gonna be fun!

It will be, my boy.

It will be.

Just that you have to learn, uh,

some of the facts of life first.

Great.

It's about time.

Well, not that kind.

Now I want you to be a success

by putting into practice
all those devious

and unscrupulous
tactics I taught you.

Well, I've already put some
of them into practice, Dad.

Remember, I was the most
hated boy in my whole college?

Well, that's kids'
stuff, minor league.

Now you're ready to tackle

the wonderful world of adults.

I'm so excited I
can't wait to start.

Oh, be patient, my boy.

And follow my example.

In life do anything to win...

Plead, crawl, try or lie.

But don't actually
ever cheat anybody.

That is, unless you're sure
you can get away with it.

I know what you mean, Dad.

Even in the game of golf...

I'd rather play
with a sore loser

than a good winner any day.

Save yourself years of travel,

and don't waste
time being a nice guy.

Start out mean.
It's a big shortcut.

Oh, Dad, that's great advice.

What's your plan of attack, Dad?

The new Homer Bedloe.

Oh, not the old mean
railroad executive,

but Homer Bedloe the
loving father and friend.

That'll get her.

Beautiful, Dad.

Beautiful!

Thank you, son.

I've given this
scheme a lot of thought

and I'm rather proud of it.

I'm gonna hit Kate Bradley

with so many
paternal platitudes,

she'll think she met
the father of the year.

Dad... What is it, son?

May I say that I'm
proud to be your son?

Sure, son, say it.

Go ahead, say it.

I am, sir.

I'm proud.

Oh, you're a chip off
the old block, my boy.

You're all right, son.

You're all right!

Here we are, son,
at the Shady Rest...

The magnolia-scented
stronghold of the enemy.

Go get 'em, Dad. I will.

I promise you, son,
I'll soften 'em up

and then you can
have a little fun yourself.

Oh, great, Dad,
you're all heart.

Heart?!

Oh, that's a good
one! That's a gem.

That's a genuine
witticism, my boy.

Mom, Mr. Bedloe's arrived.

He and his son are
coming up the hill.

That only means one thing...

Double trouble in
two pair of pants.

Don't worry, Kate.

I've handled Bedloe
before and I can do it again.

Bringing his son along just
gives me a bigger challenge.

Thanks, champ.

Don't mention it, Kate,
that's what I'm here for,

is to look after
you and the girls.

Mom, did you say Mr. Bedloe's
on his way up the hill?

And his son.

Oh, is he cute?

Oh!

Well, he looks like he's
about 24 and the college type.

Well, looks like maybe
having Mr. Bedloe here

this time could
present an entirely

different... I said he
looks like the college type,

also he looks
just like his father.

You can't be serious?

Sorry, chum, but that's
the hair-raising truth.

Bedloe's son is a
genuine juvenile duplication

of his hawk-faced,
grumpy, mean old father.

BEDLOE: Is that a fact?

I'll go along with
everything you say

about me, young lady,

but I don't think it
applies to my son here.

Most people say
he favors his mother.

Bless her dear,
sweet and gentle heart.

Gee, Mr. Bedloe, I'm sorry.

I didn't know you
were standing there.

Obviously.

Now, Mrs. Bradley
and Mr. Carson,

and you young
Bradley sisters, allow me

to present my son,
Homer Bedloe, Junior.

Hello. Hi.

Well, it's good to be back.

It's been a long time.

Not long enough for us, Bedloe.

That's right, Uncle Joe.

I don't blame you, folks.

But please not
in front of my son.

He's extremely sensitive.

Oh, I'm sorry about that.

Uh, we got nothing

against your son, Mr. Bedloe.

That's right.

No hard feelings, son.

Thank you. Thank you

from the bottom of my heart.

Your what?

Mr. Bedloe, your
son may have a heart,

but, if you have one,
we haven't seen it yet.

Why, I had that
coming, Mrs. Bradley.

That and much more.

My past performance
in your lovely community

obviates the necessity

for any politeness on your part.

Aim your bitterest
insults at me.

I stand before you
ready to accept them,

and deserve the
naked humiliation.

Careful, Bedloe.

This is a decent and
respectable hotel.

Now, that's only a figure
of speech, Mr. Carson.

Uh, Mr. Bedloe, are
you sayin' that, um,

you're through trying
to scrap the Cannonball

and shut down this hotel

and that you're a changed man

who wants to repent
for what he's done.

Yes, ma'am, that's exactly
what I'm trying to say.

I don't believe a
cotton-picki" word of it.

You can't talk to
a Bedloe that way.

Now, now, now hold on, son.

Set family pride and
filial devotion aside.

I have to be honest with you.

On my past visits to
this Victorian tabernacle

of friendly seclusion,

I've, uh, been
a bit of a stinker.

No, Dad, not you.

Yes, boy, me.

I can't believe it, Dad.

Why? Why, tell me why.

Vengeance, my boy, anger,

frustration and
humiliation... That's why.

Those feelings known
only to the vanquished

have lodged
themselves in my throat

like a massive inflammation

and I had to return
here to spit them all out.

Not in this lobby
you don't, Bedloe.

And don't you forget
it. Oh, Uncle Joe,

Mr. Bedloe's not
gonna do what you think.

You're dang right he ain't,

not as long as I'm here.

Or else he'll get throwed
out the front door.

Mrs. Bradley, I
stand before you,

not as the pragmatic
vice president

of the C. & F.W. Railroad,

but as a parent
just like yourself,

trying to do what is
right for his offspring.

Mr. Bedloe.

For the first time,

we see eye-to-eye
about somethin'.

Oh, Mrs. Bradley, Junior
has spent most of his life

with me and I brought
him down here in the hope

that he might fall under
the warm and soft influence

of you and your
charming daughters.

It's time he was exposed
to the opposite sex.

That does it, Bedloe!

Out you go!

Uncle Joe, control yourself.

What's the matter
with you, Kate?

He's the one that oughta
learn to control himself.

I knew you were mean, Bedloe,

but I never realized until now

that you're vulgar, too.

Uncle Joe, please be quiet.

You just don't understand
Mr. Bedloe's language.

The heck I don't.

You oughta be
ashamed of yourself,

in front of women
and your own son.

Mr. Bedloe, here are the
keys to adjoining room.

Why don't you and
your son go on up

and we'll talk about this later.

Thank you, Mrs. Bradley.

That's an excellent idea.

Girls, will you show
them to their rooms?

Supper will be in about
an hour, Mr. Bedloe.

Thank you, Mrs. Bradley.

That'll just give
us time for a bath.

And while you're in there,

wash your mouth
out with soap, Bedloe!

Okay, okay, Kate,
this is your hotel

you can run it the way you like.

But I'm warnin' you, if
you let people talk like that,

the place is gonna
get a bad name.

Uncle Joe, stop saying that.

It sounds silly.

Mr. Bedloe may be mean,
but he's an educated man

who knows how to
use the language.

Yeah, he sure does.

Why, he even used
a couple of words

that even I don't know.

Very nice.

Very nice, indeed!

Thank you, Mr. Bedloe.

Well, how's your room, son?

Built, really built.

Your room's built,
what's that mean?

Uh, my room? Oh!

No, Dad, I had my
mind on something else.

Oh, I see, at your age,

you find the Bradley
girls attractive.

Is that it?

They are dolls.

Well, forget it.

They're miserable daughters
of a miserable woman,

that's what they are.

Uh, you bet they are.

Dolls? Did I, did I say "dolls"?

No, sir, not when you
take a good close look.

Dogs is what they are,
genuine un-pedigreed mutts.

Beautifully stated, my boy.

Your semantics are sound.

They make your old dad proud.

How do you think we're
doing with Mrs. Bradley, Dad?

Better than I hoped for.

She started lapping up
that doting father gimmick

like a cat with a
saucer of cream.

What next, Genius Dad?

You, my boy, that's
what's next... the clincher.

I leave and you stay.

Me? What do you mean?

Me stay here by myself?

What for?

Well, don't you see?

With me gone, Kate
Bradley and her brood

will be thoroughly disarmed.

Well, what can I
do here on my own?

Snoop around, get
the lay of the land,

worm your way into the
hearts of these yokels,

find their Achilles' heel.

Okay, Dad, I'll give
it the old college try.

With your reputation

as the meanest Yale
graduate in human memory,

that's good enough for me.

Dad, you inspire
me with confidence.

You make me feel like I'm
even more than a son to you.

My boy,

if a father can't inspire
his own flesh and blood

with a sense of
purpose and dedication,

I ask you: what good is he?

Nothing, Dad, a
big, fat nothing.

And you are the greatest,
an absolute genius.

Ah, knock it off,
boy, I'm not a genius.

Brilliant perhaps
but not yet a genius.

You know, I always figured

Mr. Bedloe was too
mean to have a son.

Oh, Bedloe is a changed man.

I reckon spending so much
time here with decent folks

has finally rubbed off on him.

Yeah, maybe so.

Now, all we got to
do is straighten out

that cussing problem of
his and he'll be perfect.

So, my dear friends,

I bid you all a fond
farewell until we meet again.

Bless you, good-bye
and buena suerte.

There he goes cussing again.

Oh, Uncle Joe, "buena suerte"
means "good luck" in Spanish.

Is Bedloe Spanish?

No, I don't think so.

Need I say more?

Things won't be the
same without you, Dad.

You are doing fine, my boy.

You've trained
for this for months.

It's time you spread your wings

and swooped down
on a few pigeons.

Oh... I-I-I'm, I'm
a little scared.

Well, that's only natural.

The first time I outsmarted
and crushed an opponent,

I felt the same way.

When it was all over,
I had tears in my eyes.

From crying?

Not you, Dad.

From laughing, and
of course not me.

Oh, that's good, I'm relieved.

Now, I'll be so happy
back at the office,

knowing that you're here
plotting to destroy this train

and the Bradley clan
every waking moment.

Dad, even when I
sleep, I dream mean.

That's my boy.

(whistle blowing)

So long, Dad.

Good-bye, son.

And remember the Bedloe creed...

(speaking Latin)

Right, "to err is human, so
always take advantage of it."

Bye, Dad.

Bye-bye, Dad.

(sobbing): My daddy's leaving.

(blubbering indistinctly)

And the Cannonball
carries about everything

from newborn babies to
hot lunches for salesmen.

I guess at one time or another,

Charley and Floyd's
turned that train

into just about
everything under the sun.

(both chuckle)

Sort of a traveling
restaurant, hospital,

and come what may without
a license, you might say.

Yeah, the folks around here
don't care much for red tape...

Them, uh, legal technicalities.

Is that a fact?

Interesting, Mr. Carson,
extremely interesting.

Yeah, I guess it is
if you say so, Junior.

I still don't think
writing a book

about things around here is
going to make you any money.

Well, there's more to life
than money, Mr. Carson.

There's the
gratification one feels

when one accomplishes
something important.

I call it a feeling
of cerebral passion.

Now, you're going to have
to cut that kind of talk out, son.

What kind of talk?
What do you mean?

You've been hanging around
with that old man of yours

too long, my boy.

Yes, but... Now,
you take my advice

and forget about
that kind of language.

There ain't a
publisher in the country

that'll put any of them
words in print, believe me.

Really, Mr. Carson,
there's nothing wrong with...

Now, don't try to sell
me on your city ways.

If you're going to put
things like that in writing,

put 'em down so decent
people can read 'em.

You know, as a new writer
starting on his first book,

you're pathetic.

And you say that
you haven't had a visit

from anyone with the ICC
that you can remember?

Well, not that we can recall.

Right, Floyd? That's right.

Matter of fact, I can't even
recall what ICC means.

Those initials stand

for Interstate
Commerce Commission.

That's the federal agency

which controls the licensing
of commercial vehicles.

Is that a fact?

Boy, you two are
incredibly naive.

How's that, son?

What I mean to say

is that you're incredibly
neat and precise,

the way you run this train.

You ought to see how
nice our uniforms look

when it ain't a fishing day.

You mean you're going to
stop this train and go fishing?

Yep, we're almost to
Morgan Creek Trestle.

We'll be wetting a
line in five minutes.

Stop a train to go fishing?!

Why? I don't get it.

'Cause it's fun.

Fun?

You've got to be kidding.

Ain't you never fished, son?

Of course not.

Then you're about to sample

one of the great
joys of life, Junior.

Fishing is good for the soul.

(laughs)

That's funny.

Hey, I got a bite.

Let him take it, Junior.

Don't rush him.

Hook him, son.

I got him.

Good boy.

Bring him aboard.

(laughing)

Oh.

Hey, I caught a fish.

How about that?

This is fun.

I hope to tell you it is.

What will I do with him?

Throw him back in.

Well, why should I do that?

So you can come back
again with us tomorrow

and catch him again.

(all chuckling)

(music playing)

Hi, Junior, come on
and do the hop with us.

No, thanks, I don't dance.

Oh, come on, Junior, it's fun.

Come on, do the hop.

It's the greatest.

Oh, look, this is ridi...

I mean, I don't know
anything about it.

(chuckles)

Hey, this is fun.

Isn't it, though?

Morning, Junior.

Morning, Mrs. Bradley.

How are you getting along?

Uh, pretty good, thanks.

Uh, could I talk to you
about something, please?

W-Well, sure you can.

What's on your mind?

It's something you're
not going to like to hear.

In fact, I think you're
going to hate it.

Well... let me decide
for myself, huh?

I've been lying to you.

Why, Junior, I'm
surprised at you.

What lies have you been telling?

So many I hardly
know where to begin,

and my dad, he's
been lying to you, too.

Well, that doesn't
surprise me in the least.

He's, he's old and set
in his lying ways, but...

there's hope for you, Junior.

Want to tell me about it?

My dad and I came here
to destroy that stupid train...

I mean the Cannonball...

And this hotel and everybody
in this stupid valley...

I mean valley.

You'll have to excuse me.

I'm having quite a struggle
telling you about this.

I know you are,
but... don't be upset.

Everything's going to be fine.

I'm not used to this sickening
emotion that's overwhelming me.

What emotion is that?

I think it's called honesty.

Oh.

Yeah, that, that can be
a tough one to handle,

de-depending on
the way you think.

But the point is, Mrs. Bradley,
you and your daughters

and Uncle Joe and
Charley and Floyd

have all been so kind to me,
and the stupid part about it

is none of you seem to
want anything from me at all.

That's right, we don't.

But why? I don't get it.

You're all so nice
and friendly and kind,

and for no darn,
stupid reason at all.

Do we have to have a reason?

I know.

You're all sick.

That's it, isn't it?

You've got some kind
of a community neurosis.

That's it, isn't it?

(chuckling): No, it isn't.

As a matter of
fact, we all feel fine.

You do?

Boy, I'm really confused.

Well, why don't you stop
trying to understand it

and just enjoy it?

That's what we
all do around here.

That's what I've discovered.

You know, a fellow could
get used to a life like this.

Well, of course he could,
and you're just the fella.

Thanks, Mrs. Bradley.

Thank you very much.

You know what I'm going to do?

I'm going to shoot
a wire to my dad

and tell him I've found
the answer to his problem.

I'm going to get
him here right away

so he can straighten
himself out, too.

♪ By the moonlight ♪

♪ You can hear the
young folks singing ♪

♪ In the evening
by the moonlight ♪

♪ You can hear
those banjos ringing ♪

♪ How the old folks... ♪
(train whistle blowing)

Hey, maybe my dad's arrived.

I'll see if he's getting off.

Any sign of him?

Yep, he's coming
up the hill lickety-split.

My boy, you did it!

I knew you could.

Tell them, son, tell
them how we pulled it off.

Tell them how you're going
to bring them to their knees

in front of your father

as he enjoys his moment
of supreme retribution.

Bedloe, you've been
back ten seconds

and you're starting up again.

Now, you watch your
language, and I ain't kidding.

Okay, son, what's the news?

What's your answer
for settling this problem

once and for all?

By not pretending
to be nice anymore.

Naturally, naturally there's
no use for pretense now.

And the answer?

Honesty, Dad... plain,

simple, undisguised
honesty and truth.

Beautiful, son,
absolutely beautiful.

We'll hit these yokels
with honesty and truth

and then we'll close down
the Cannonball and this hotel,

and the stupid people
in this valley will...

What?!

Did you say what
I thought you said?

Yes, sir, I did.

No, it can't be.

They've ruined you,
that's what they've done.

No, Dad, they've given
me a new look at life,

an honest one, and I like it.

Stop talking like that.

It's disgusting.

Dad, it can happen to you, too.

Will you shut up?

You fiends, you've
brainwashed this poor boy.

I'm taking you back
to the city right now.

No, sir, I don't want to go.

You're going to have
to see a psychiatrist

first thing in the morning.

I don't like her, I hate her.

I don't ever want to
see that woman again.

Well, you're going
to go and that's that.

Good-bye, Mrs. Bradley.

Bye, Uncle Joe.

Good-bye, girls. Bye, Junior.

We sure will miss you.

We will, Junior.

Hurry back, dear.

You bet I will.

Not on your life.

Stop doing that, you fool,
you look like a nice guy.

It's repulsive!

Poor Junior.

He had to have
Mr. Bedloe for a father.

I don't think
Bedloe will ever let

that boy come back here again.

Oh, I wouldn't worry, Uncle Joe.

That nice boy will
be back, I'm sure of it.

As far as I'm
concerned, I don't care

if we never see either one
of the two of them again.

Them's two of the
most foul-mouthed men

I've ever met in my life.

♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪

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