Petticoat Junction (1963–1970): Season 1, Episode 7 - The Ringer - full transcript
The annual Shady Rest horseshoe pitching tournament is coming up, it being one of the busiest times for the hotel with all the out-of-town competitors requiring accommodations. The perpetual winner of the tournament is Pixley Fats, who seems poised to win again this year and whose entire life revolves around pitching horseshoes. However, a new and slightly unconventional potential entry this year may give Pixley Fats a run for his money: Betty Jo. Betty Jo has long known that she has a talent for the sport, but always thought the tournament was only for men. Although there are no rules against female participants, female pitchers are uncustomary. Kate enters Betty Jo against Uncle Joe's wishes as he feels it will insult every man entered to play against a female, a teenager no less. Regardless, he can't stop Betty Jo, who he is sure will lose anyway. Uncle Joe changes his mind when he sees how talented Betty Jo is, she who makes it into the finals against Pixley Fats. So the final ends up being a contest between experience and youth, with perhaps a little compassion thrown in.
(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)
♪ ♪
Bobbie Jo, you take...
rooms five, six and seven.
Thank you, Mom.
And Billie Jo, you take...
Well, there's a sheet
and a pillowcase missing.
Uh-oh.
Uh-oh what?
Well, I saw Uncle Joe
heading for the barn
with what could have been
a sheet and a pillowcase.
Oh, how thoughtful.
He's planning to sleep out there
to make more room
for paying guests.
Yeah, but I can't
let him do that.
Well, but, Mama, he was carrying
a bucket of paint
and a brush, now.
And he said something
about making a banner.
Oh, no, he wouldn't!
He wouldn't!
He did.
Well, Kate, what do you think?
I think it's ruined.
Wait, I misspell something?
Uncle Joe, it's the
sheet that's ruined.
Billie, you're a sweet
girl, but you're too young
to understand the
value of advertising.
Well, in this case, so am I.
Uncle Joe, every year during
the horseshoe tournament week,
we turn people away.
What do we need
with advertising?
Women and business.
Why should I try to explain?
There's the Cannonball.
I got to get down there.
I got to let Floyd
know I matched him
with Pixley Fats
in the first round.
Pixley Fats?
I'll be out before the
tournament gets started.
Nobody's ever beat Pixley
Fats pitching horseshoes.
And nobody ever will.
I just thought I'd make it quick
and merciful for you, Floyd.
You want to default right now?
No, sir.
Floyd is not a quitter.
Are you, Floyd?
Yes, I am.
Well, the least you could do
would be to put up a good fight.
No, I couldn't beat
him fighting, neither.
Well, let's go practice.
Fighting or pitching horseshoes?
Pitching horseshoes,
you mallet head. You go on.
I got a banner to put up.
Beautiful.
Now, that was very good, Floyd.
U-Uncle Joe, bring the,
uh, shoes back, please.
I'll be right there, Kate.
No, y-you got better
e-every time you pitched.
(chuckles)
Didn't he, girls?
Oh, yes. Beautiful.
You got a leaner, too.
Yeah, but leaning
against a tree don't count.
Oh, you're gonna be just
fine in the tournament, Floyd.
Because you're a
good all-around athlete.
And when it comes to
pitching horseshoes...
Floyd, you're pathetic.
Oh, Uncle Joe, he was nervous.
Because you have put him
against Pixley Fats, first thing.
Well, somebody
has to be a skunk.
Might as well be Floyd.
Oh, come on, Joe, start
somebody else against Pixley Fats.
But my chart's all made out.
You can change it.
It's clear up in my room.
But a little walk
will do you good.
Okay, I'm putting you
against Pixley Fats.
Joe!
You don't want to
make that long walk.
Joe!
Joe, listen!
Come on, come on. No.
Mother. Yes, dear?
Does the horseshoe
tournament allow women?
Well, it isn't customary,
but I guess it could.
This isn't exactly a
national tournament.
Why?
Well, Bobbie and I
think Betty ought to enter.
Betty?
Billie, I'm not good
enough to play against men.
Well, the way you throw ringers,
why, you could play
against anybody.
KATE: Ringers?
This little peanut?
Just watch her, Mom.
She's terrific!
Show her, Betty.
I'll probably miss it a mile.
A perfect ringer.
She does it every time.
I seem to have a kind
of talent for it, Mom.
Once more.
How long have
you been doing this?
Oh, three or four
years, I guess.
But you never said anything.
I always thought
horseshoes was just for men.
And Bobbie and I just
happened to see her.
Once more.
Pixley Fats... watch out.
Kate.
Where's Betty Jo?
She's upstairs. What
do you want with her?
I'm gonna bend her over my knee
and whomp her with a hairbrush.
What for?
She wrote her name
on my tournament sheet.
No, she didn't.
Well, somebody did, and
they're gonna get whomped.
Well, you go fetch
your hairbrush,
and I'll meet you
in the basement.
I never did like getting
whomped in public.
Kate.
You put Betty's name on here?
Yes, I did.
She's entering the tournament.
A teenage girl?
Well, that'll be an insult to
every man in the tournament.
Especially Pixley Fats.
He won't be insulted
when he sees her play.
BETTY JO: Mother!
Yes? What is it?
There's another
bedsheet missing.
Now, j-j-just a minute, Kate.
You ought to be proud.
Why, right now,
everyone that's watching
the Hooterville Cannonball
go by is reading your sheet.
Mr. Pratt!
Who's running the train?
Had to let Floyd take over.
I'm so nervous, my hand
was trembling at the trottle.
How come?
I'm playing Pixley Fats
in the opening round of
the tournament tomorrow.
HERBIE: Gee!
What an honor to play
horseshoes against Pixley Fats.
Boy, you just bought
yourself an honor!
Huh?
You're starting against
Pixley Fats instead of me.
Oh, thank you, thank you!
Do you think he'll let me
sit with him for a minute?
No, no, no, no, no.
That's why he buys
those two seats
and curtains them off.
He doesn't want anybody
jostling his pitching arm.
Do you know him very well?
Son, nobody knows Pixley Fats.
You might call him
a man of mystery.
(train whistle blows)
Hey, we're coming
into Shady Rest.
Oh, I hope Floyd
makes a smooth stop.
(bell clanging)
Right this way, gents.
Right this way.
Welcome to the Shady Rest Hotel!
Scene of the world's greatest
horseshoe tournament!
Where you can see the
one and only Pixley Fats
in action against all comers!
Eat our delicious food,
sleep in our soft beds,
Shady Rest Hotel!
Right up the path there, gents.
Right up the path.
Eat our delicious food,
sleep in our soft beds.
Hello, Joe! Shady
Rest... Hello, Charley.
Hello, Mr. Carson.
Hello, Herbie.
Did Pixley Fats have
a comfortable ride?
Smooth as glass, Joe.
Can I take his bag up
to the hotel, Mr. Carson?
Oh, no, no!
You go on up.
Nobody but me has carried
his bag for the last nine years.
(crowd chattering)
He's here! Pixley
Fats in person!
He's right behind us!
(crowd murmuring)
(crowd quiets)
He's here!
(applause)
What's in that case?
That's brass-plated
horseshoes...
Approved for balance by
the U.S. Bureau of Standards.
(crowd oohs)
BETTY JO: Gee!
Why'd he bring that trophy?
That's the tournament trophy.
He's got to bring
it back every year,
so he can win it
again and take it away.
Nice to see you again.
He never uses his right hand
for anything but
pitching horseshoes.
He's learned to do
everything with his left hand.
Room 12.
Same as the last eight years.
M-Move Betty Jo;
you're blocking traffic.
(chuckling): Oh, excuse me.
That sure is a handsome trophy.
I think she's planning
to win it away from you.
Not planning... just hoping.
(chuckling): How
ridiculous can you get?
(blows whistle)
Welcome to the ninth annual
Shady Rest Hotel
horseshoe tournament!
Now, before we get
into the first round,
I'd like to call your attention
to these beautiful
good luck charms...
On sale for only 50 cents.
(crowd groans)
Souvenirs for wives and kiddies.
Get the tournament started, Joe.
Now, hold your horses, Charley.
Or maybe I should say,
"Hold your horseshoes."
(laughing)
You should say who
plays who in the first match.
And forget trying
to sell something
you ain't had one customer for
in eight years.
Well, I wasn't trying to sell,
I just wanted you to
know they were available.
Now, the first
match will be played
by Pixley Fats!
(applause)
And his worthy opponent
will be Herbie Bates.
10,000 to one on Pixley Fats.
10,000 to one what?
Anything!
(whistle blows)
Pitch horseshoe!
(cheering)
(crowd chattering excitedly)
(applause)
(crowd groaning)
Come on, Herbie, you
can do better than that.
(applause)
(laughter)
Oh, you can have more than that.
Mom's frying up a
whole new batch.
During the tournament,
he eats very light.
Well, I'll go see if a
new batch is ready.
How's it going in there?
Need more chicken.
Oh. Oh, right here, honey.
Just hold the platter.
Ma? Yes, dear.
Did anyone mention that I
won my first round match?
Oh, yes, someone did, and
I meant to congratulate you,
and then I got busy
fixing supper, and I forgot.
Okay, honey, serve it up.
I beat Toby Gates 52 to three.
Good. Beginner's luck.
With a score like that?
When she loses in round two,
we don't want to see
no tears, do we, Kate?
How many pies are
you cutting, dear?
Six, Mom.
Oh, no, no. I think seven.
Oh, okay.
Kate, you didn't
answer my question.
What was it?
Uh, I asked you, uh, when
Betty Jo loses round two,
we don't want to
see no tears, do we?
Oh. No, no, no.
Uh, Betty Jo, would
you start washing up
the pots and pans for me?
Because nobody
likes a sore loser.
Uncle Joe, would
you please tell me
what you're doing
in the kitchen?
Well, I'm trying to teach
your youngest daughter
how to be a good sport.
Well, could you teach her later
before the good sports
at the dining room
stamp their feet and
bang their forks and knives
for quicker service?
Kate, are you implying
you want me to leave?
Now that you mention it, yes.
Okay. I can take a hint.
Uh, uh, uh, uh.
Don't go empty-handed.
(cheering and applause)
Floyd Smoot, three.
Pixley Fats, 51.
Pixley Fats is
now in the finals.
(applause)
Hi, Kate. What
brings you down here?
Oh, my youngest daughter.
She told her sisters and me
that she made the semi-finals,
so we decided to watch her play.
Oh? Any objections?
No. Matter of fact, I wondered
why you hadn't come down before.
I've been busy.
Uncle Joe, how did Betty Jo
ever get into the semi-finals?
We explained that
to you two days ago.
Beginner's luck.
(blows whistle)
The second semi-final match
will be Betty Jo
Bradley v. Charley Pratt.
(applause)
Betty Jo, I'm going to forget
that you're just like
a daughter to me,
and I'm going to do my
very best to beat you.
And I want you promise
to do the same, okay?
Okay. Who goes first?
Charley. Age before beauty.
(laughs)
(crowd murmuring) MAN: Floyd!
(applause)
(crowd groaning and murmuring)
(scattered applause)
(loud cheering)
I hadn't meant
for your very best
to be that good.
Two for Charley, and six
for my beautiful
and talented relative,
Miss Betty Jo Bradley.
(cheering)
She's sensational.
(sing-songy): Herbie Bates!
Hi, Billie Jo.
My, don't you look pretty!
Thanks. Listen, you
played Pixley Fats.
Do you have any tips
on how Betty Jo could
beat him in the finals?
Yup.
Drop her first
horseshoe on his foot,
and hope he loses
his temper and quits.
Ha, ha.
Oh, Billie Jo, if I had any tips
on how to beat Pixley Fats,
would I have lost
to him 51 to zero?
You're right.
I'm sorry I bothered you.
Oh, any time.
Billie Jo, why don't
you and me go
on a little moonlight stroll?
I can't.
Mother told me to mind the desk.
Darn it.
I could have waited
ten more days.
Ten more days?
To shave.
Well, the truth
of the matter is,
athletics is in
the girl's blood.
You see, my brother Harold...
That's the one that rode into the
swamp and never came back...
He had a spring tryout
with the Philadelphia Phillies.
Well, what's baseball
got to do with horseshoes?
Well, Harold was a pitcher,
and Betty Jo inherited
Harold's right arm.
How'd they get it out
of the swamp? (laughs)
Floyd, why don't you
stop trying to make jokes
and put your money
where your mouth is?
You want to bet on Betty
Jo against Pixley Fats?
Any amount you want to name.
Okay. You're on for 75 cents.
Make it 50.
It's a bet.
(knock at door)
Come in.
Hi.
Hi.
I'm sorry I didn't
help with the dishes,
but Uncle Joe ordered
me straight to bed.
(laughing): Oh, yes, I know.
Are you feeling
nervous about tomorrow?
A little.
Well, it's only natural.
Pixley Fats is
probably nervous, too.
I wonder if I can beat him.
Yeah, so do I.
I kind of wonder
something else, too.
What?
I wonder what will
happen to him if you do?
What do you mean?
Well, Pixley Fats is a
peculiar sort of person.
And how.
Why doesn't he ever talk?
He does talk.
At the end of every tournament,
he says to his losing opponent,
"You pitch a good
game of horseshoes."
(laughs)
His whole life is
pitching horseshoes.
In a way, that's kind of sad.
Yeah, I agree.
Com-Compared to
somebody like, um...
well, like you.
You have a family and friends,
school and hobbies.
And pretty soon, the
most wonderful thing
that can happen to
a woman in her life...
Husband and children.
Oh, Mom.
(laughs)
I-I don't say that
Pixley Fats is unique.
Oh, there a lot of
one-track people.
They can be doctors or lawyers
or businessmen, anything.
They have one big talent
and one big pride in it.
But there's just one trouble.
What?
Well, if a person like
that fails, even once,
everything just falls apart.
Unless, in addition to
their talent, they have love.
Because the best
and the only thing in life
that can help a proud
person face failure
is love.
Mom?
Hmm?
Are you telling me to...?
Honey, I'm not
telling you anything.
I just came up here
to kiss you good night.
(applause)
The score is tied, 48, 48.
(applause)
I've never seen
anything like it.
Neither one of
them's missed a ringer.
(applause and cheering)
51 to 48.
(applause and cheering)
51 to 51.
Quit telling me
the score, Herbie.
I can count, too.
(crowd groans and murmurs)
MAN: That a shame.
That's the first time in my life
I ever seen him miss.
If Betty Jo gets a
ringer, it's her match.
(crowd groaning and murmuring)
Final score...
Pixley Fats... 53,
Betty Jo Bradley... 51.
The winner and
tournament champion
for the ninth
consecutive year...
Pixley Fats.
(applause)
Give me my 50 cents.
Oh, take it easy, would you?
I got to record the score first.
Everybody up to the hotel
for the presentation of
the trophy and lemonade.
(crowd cheering and murmuring)
Tough luck, Sis.
We'll get him next year.
Mr. Fats, your horseshoes.
Girls, would you go on
up and set out the glasses?
Give me my 50 cents.
Uncle Joe!
Did you bet on me?
Yes, I did.
I'm sorry.
Well, I'm sorry, too.
(laughs)
Congratulations on a nice try.
You pitch a good
game of horseshoes.
Thank you.
So do you.
Good-bye, Mr. Fats.
Betty Jo, you know what?
You won.
You won't get any trophy,
but inside where it counts,
you won!
What's the matter, Mother?
I think I'll buy one
of these souvenirs
so that Uncle Joe will
get his 50 cents back.
I was wrong.
You do get a trophy after all.
(laughs)
Remind me to, uh, hide Uncle
Joe's Indian after dinner, huh?
(theme song playing)
♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪
This has been a
Filmways presentation.
♪ 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)
♪ ♪
Bobbie Jo, you take...
rooms five, six and seven.
Thank you, Mom.
And Billie Jo, you take...
Well, there's a sheet
and a pillowcase missing.
Uh-oh.
Uh-oh what?
Well, I saw Uncle Joe
heading for the barn
with what could have been
a sheet and a pillowcase.
Oh, how thoughtful.
He's planning to sleep out there
to make more room
for paying guests.
Yeah, but I can't
let him do that.
Well, but, Mama, he was carrying
a bucket of paint
and a brush, now.
And he said something
about making a banner.
Oh, no, he wouldn't!
He wouldn't!
He did.
Well, Kate, what do you think?
I think it's ruined.
Wait, I misspell something?
Uncle Joe, it's the
sheet that's ruined.
Billie, you're a sweet
girl, but you're too young
to understand the
value of advertising.
Well, in this case, so am I.
Uncle Joe, every year during
the horseshoe tournament week,
we turn people away.
What do we need
with advertising?
Women and business.
Why should I try to explain?
There's the Cannonball.
I got to get down there.
I got to let Floyd
know I matched him
with Pixley Fats
in the first round.
Pixley Fats?
I'll be out before the
tournament gets started.
Nobody's ever beat Pixley
Fats pitching horseshoes.
And nobody ever will.
I just thought I'd make it quick
and merciful for you, Floyd.
You want to default right now?
No, sir.
Floyd is not a quitter.
Are you, Floyd?
Yes, I am.
Well, the least you could do
would be to put up a good fight.
No, I couldn't beat
him fighting, neither.
Well, let's go practice.
Fighting or pitching horseshoes?
Pitching horseshoes,
you mallet head. You go on.
I got a banner to put up.
Beautiful.
Now, that was very good, Floyd.
U-Uncle Joe, bring the,
uh, shoes back, please.
I'll be right there, Kate.
No, y-you got better
e-every time you pitched.
(chuckles)
Didn't he, girls?
Oh, yes. Beautiful.
You got a leaner, too.
Yeah, but leaning
against a tree don't count.
Oh, you're gonna be just
fine in the tournament, Floyd.
Because you're a
good all-around athlete.
And when it comes to
pitching horseshoes...
Floyd, you're pathetic.
Oh, Uncle Joe, he was nervous.
Because you have put him
against Pixley Fats, first thing.
Well, somebody
has to be a skunk.
Might as well be Floyd.
Oh, come on, Joe, start
somebody else against Pixley Fats.
But my chart's all made out.
You can change it.
It's clear up in my room.
But a little walk
will do you good.
Okay, I'm putting you
against Pixley Fats.
Joe!
You don't want to
make that long walk.
Joe!
Joe, listen!
Come on, come on. No.
Mother. Yes, dear?
Does the horseshoe
tournament allow women?
Well, it isn't customary,
but I guess it could.
This isn't exactly a
national tournament.
Why?
Well, Bobbie and I
think Betty ought to enter.
Betty?
Billie, I'm not good
enough to play against men.
Well, the way you throw ringers,
why, you could play
against anybody.
KATE: Ringers?
This little peanut?
Just watch her, Mom.
She's terrific!
Show her, Betty.
I'll probably miss it a mile.
A perfect ringer.
She does it every time.
I seem to have a kind
of talent for it, Mom.
Once more.
How long have
you been doing this?
Oh, three or four
years, I guess.
But you never said anything.
I always thought
horseshoes was just for men.
And Bobbie and I just
happened to see her.
Once more.
Pixley Fats... watch out.
Kate.
Where's Betty Jo?
She's upstairs. What
do you want with her?
I'm gonna bend her over my knee
and whomp her with a hairbrush.
What for?
She wrote her name
on my tournament sheet.
No, she didn't.
Well, somebody did, and
they're gonna get whomped.
Well, you go fetch
your hairbrush,
and I'll meet you
in the basement.
I never did like getting
whomped in public.
Kate.
You put Betty's name on here?
Yes, I did.
She's entering the tournament.
A teenage girl?
Well, that'll be an insult to
every man in the tournament.
Especially Pixley Fats.
He won't be insulted
when he sees her play.
BETTY JO: Mother!
Yes? What is it?
There's another
bedsheet missing.
Now, j-j-just a minute, Kate.
You ought to be proud.
Why, right now,
everyone that's watching
the Hooterville Cannonball
go by is reading your sheet.
Mr. Pratt!
Who's running the train?
Had to let Floyd take over.
I'm so nervous, my hand
was trembling at the trottle.
How come?
I'm playing Pixley Fats
in the opening round of
the tournament tomorrow.
HERBIE: Gee!
What an honor to play
horseshoes against Pixley Fats.
Boy, you just bought
yourself an honor!
Huh?
You're starting against
Pixley Fats instead of me.
Oh, thank you, thank you!
Do you think he'll let me
sit with him for a minute?
No, no, no, no, no.
That's why he buys
those two seats
and curtains them off.
He doesn't want anybody
jostling his pitching arm.
Do you know him very well?
Son, nobody knows Pixley Fats.
You might call him
a man of mystery.
(train whistle blows)
Hey, we're coming
into Shady Rest.
Oh, I hope Floyd
makes a smooth stop.
(bell clanging)
Right this way, gents.
Right this way.
Welcome to the Shady Rest Hotel!
Scene of the world's greatest
horseshoe tournament!
Where you can see the
one and only Pixley Fats
in action against all comers!
Eat our delicious food,
sleep in our soft beds,
Shady Rest Hotel!
Right up the path there, gents.
Right up the path.
Eat our delicious food,
sleep in our soft beds.
Hello, Joe! Shady
Rest... Hello, Charley.
Hello, Mr. Carson.
Hello, Herbie.
Did Pixley Fats have
a comfortable ride?
Smooth as glass, Joe.
Can I take his bag up
to the hotel, Mr. Carson?
Oh, no, no!
You go on up.
Nobody but me has carried
his bag for the last nine years.
(crowd chattering)
He's here! Pixley
Fats in person!
He's right behind us!
(crowd murmuring)
(crowd quiets)
He's here!
(applause)
What's in that case?
That's brass-plated
horseshoes...
Approved for balance by
the U.S. Bureau of Standards.
(crowd oohs)
BETTY JO: Gee!
Why'd he bring that trophy?
That's the tournament trophy.
He's got to bring
it back every year,
so he can win it
again and take it away.
Nice to see you again.
He never uses his right hand
for anything but
pitching horseshoes.
He's learned to do
everything with his left hand.
Room 12.
Same as the last eight years.
M-Move Betty Jo;
you're blocking traffic.
(chuckling): Oh, excuse me.
That sure is a handsome trophy.
I think she's planning
to win it away from you.
Not planning... just hoping.
(chuckling): How
ridiculous can you get?
(blows whistle)
Welcome to the ninth annual
Shady Rest Hotel
horseshoe tournament!
Now, before we get
into the first round,
I'd like to call your attention
to these beautiful
good luck charms...
On sale for only 50 cents.
(crowd groans)
Souvenirs for wives and kiddies.
Get the tournament started, Joe.
Now, hold your horses, Charley.
Or maybe I should say,
"Hold your horseshoes."
(laughing)
You should say who
plays who in the first match.
And forget trying
to sell something
you ain't had one customer for
in eight years.
Well, I wasn't trying to sell,
I just wanted you to
know they were available.
Now, the first
match will be played
by Pixley Fats!
(applause)
And his worthy opponent
will be Herbie Bates.
10,000 to one on Pixley Fats.
10,000 to one what?
Anything!
(whistle blows)
Pitch horseshoe!
(cheering)
(crowd chattering excitedly)
(applause)
(crowd groaning)
Come on, Herbie, you
can do better than that.
(applause)
(laughter)
Oh, you can have more than that.
Mom's frying up a
whole new batch.
During the tournament,
he eats very light.
Well, I'll go see if a
new batch is ready.
How's it going in there?
Need more chicken.
Oh. Oh, right here, honey.
Just hold the platter.
Ma? Yes, dear.
Did anyone mention that I
won my first round match?
Oh, yes, someone did, and
I meant to congratulate you,
and then I got busy
fixing supper, and I forgot.
Okay, honey, serve it up.
I beat Toby Gates 52 to three.
Good. Beginner's luck.
With a score like that?
When she loses in round two,
we don't want to see
no tears, do we, Kate?
How many pies are
you cutting, dear?
Six, Mom.
Oh, no, no. I think seven.
Oh, okay.
Kate, you didn't
answer my question.
What was it?
Uh, I asked you, uh, when
Betty Jo loses round two,
we don't want to
see no tears, do we?
Oh. No, no, no.
Uh, Betty Jo, would
you start washing up
the pots and pans for me?
Because nobody
likes a sore loser.
Uncle Joe, would
you please tell me
what you're doing
in the kitchen?
Well, I'm trying to teach
your youngest daughter
how to be a good sport.
Well, could you teach her later
before the good sports
at the dining room
stamp their feet and
bang their forks and knives
for quicker service?
Kate, are you implying
you want me to leave?
Now that you mention it, yes.
Okay. I can take a hint.
Uh, uh, uh, uh.
Don't go empty-handed.
(cheering and applause)
Floyd Smoot, three.
Pixley Fats, 51.
Pixley Fats is
now in the finals.
(applause)
Hi, Kate. What
brings you down here?
Oh, my youngest daughter.
She told her sisters and me
that she made the semi-finals,
so we decided to watch her play.
Oh? Any objections?
No. Matter of fact, I wondered
why you hadn't come down before.
I've been busy.
Uncle Joe, how did Betty Jo
ever get into the semi-finals?
We explained that
to you two days ago.
Beginner's luck.
(blows whistle)
The second semi-final match
will be Betty Jo
Bradley v. Charley Pratt.
(applause)
Betty Jo, I'm going to forget
that you're just like
a daughter to me,
and I'm going to do my
very best to beat you.
And I want you promise
to do the same, okay?
Okay. Who goes first?
Charley. Age before beauty.
(laughs)
(crowd murmuring) MAN: Floyd!
(applause)
(crowd groaning and murmuring)
(scattered applause)
(loud cheering)
I hadn't meant
for your very best
to be that good.
Two for Charley, and six
for my beautiful
and talented relative,
Miss Betty Jo Bradley.
(cheering)
She's sensational.
(sing-songy): Herbie Bates!
Hi, Billie Jo.
My, don't you look pretty!
Thanks. Listen, you
played Pixley Fats.
Do you have any tips
on how Betty Jo could
beat him in the finals?
Yup.
Drop her first
horseshoe on his foot,
and hope he loses
his temper and quits.
Ha, ha.
Oh, Billie Jo, if I had any tips
on how to beat Pixley Fats,
would I have lost
to him 51 to zero?
You're right.
I'm sorry I bothered you.
Oh, any time.
Billie Jo, why don't
you and me go
on a little moonlight stroll?
I can't.
Mother told me to mind the desk.
Darn it.
I could have waited
ten more days.
Ten more days?
To shave.
Well, the truth
of the matter is,
athletics is in
the girl's blood.
You see, my brother Harold...
That's the one that rode into the
swamp and never came back...
He had a spring tryout
with the Philadelphia Phillies.
Well, what's baseball
got to do with horseshoes?
Well, Harold was a pitcher,
and Betty Jo inherited
Harold's right arm.
How'd they get it out
of the swamp? (laughs)
Floyd, why don't you
stop trying to make jokes
and put your money
where your mouth is?
You want to bet on Betty
Jo against Pixley Fats?
Any amount you want to name.
Okay. You're on for 75 cents.
Make it 50.
It's a bet.
(knock at door)
Come in.
Hi.
Hi.
I'm sorry I didn't
help with the dishes,
but Uncle Joe ordered
me straight to bed.
(laughing): Oh, yes, I know.
Are you feeling
nervous about tomorrow?
A little.
Well, it's only natural.
Pixley Fats is
probably nervous, too.
I wonder if I can beat him.
Yeah, so do I.
I kind of wonder
something else, too.
What?
I wonder what will
happen to him if you do?
What do you mean?
Well, Pixley Fats is a
peculiar sort of person.
And how.
Why doesn't he ever talk?
He does talk.
At the end of every tournament,
he says to his losing opponent,
"You pitch a good
game of horseshoes."
(laughs)
His whole life is
pitching horseshoes.
In a way, that's kind of sad.
Yeah, I agree.
Com-Compared to
somebody like, um...
well, like you.
You have a family and friends,
school and hobbies.
And pretty soon, the
most wonderful thing
that can happen to
a woman in her life...
Husband and children.
Oh, Mom.
(laughs)
I-I don't say that
Pixley Fats is unique.
Oh, there a lot of
one-track people.
They can be doctors or lawyers
or businessmen, anything.
They have one big talent
and one big pride in it.
But there's just one trouble.
What?
Well, if a person like
that fails, even once,
everything just falls apart.
Unless, in addition to
their talent, they have love.
Because the best
and the only thing in life
that can help a proud
person face failure
is love.
Mom?
Hmm?
Are you telling me to...?
Honey, I'm not
telling you anything.
I just came up here
to kiss you good night.
(applause)
The score is tied, 48, 48.
(applause)
I've never seen
anything like it.
Neither one of
them's missed a ringer.
(applause and cheering)
51 to 48.
(applause and cheering)
51 to 51.
Quit telling me
the score, Herbie.
I can count, too.
(crowd groans and murmurs)
MAN: That a shame.
That's the first time in my life
I ever seen him miss.
If Betty Jo gets a
ringer, it's her match.
(crowd groaning and murmuring)
Final score...
Pixley Fats... 53,
Betty Jo Bradley... 51.
The winner and
tournament champion
for the ninth
consecutive year...
Pixley Fats.
(applause)
Give me my 50 cents.
Oh, take it easy, would you?
I got to record the score first.
Everybody up to the hotel
for the presentation of
the trophy and lemonade.
(crowd cheering and murmuring)
Tough luck, Sis.
We'll get him next year.
Mr. Fats, your horseshoes.
Girls, would you go on
up and set out the glasses?
Give me my 50 cents.
Uncle Joe!
Did you bet on me?
Yes, I did.
I'm sorry.
Well, I'm sorry, too.
(laughs)
Congratulations on a nice try.
You pitch a good
game of horseshoes.
Thank you.
So do you.
Good-bye, Mr. Fats.
Betty Jo, you know what?
You won.
You won't get any trophy,
but inside where it counts,
you won!
What's the matter, Mother?
I think I'll buy one
of these souvenirs
so that Uncle Joe will
get his 50 cents back.
I was wrong.
You do get a trophy after all.
(laughs)
Remind me to, uh, hide Uncle
Joe's Indian after dinner, huh?
(theme song playing)
♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪
This has been a
Filmways presentation.