Petticoat Junction (1963–1970): Season 2, Episode 9 - Bedloe's Nightmare - full transcript
Bedloe is told by his psychiatrist that he should change his ways and he should love the Cannonball because he having nightmares of the train. When Bedloe visits the Shadyrest Hotel, Kate is not fooled by the change in him when he says he loves that train. They find out Bedloe is planning remove old damaged tracks instead of replacing them to shut down the Cannonball, it is up to Kate to stop him.
The maniacal railroad
representative Homer Bedloe
has been having terrible
nightmares about the Cannonball
and his failed
attempts to get rid of it.
So his psychiatrist suggests
he learn to love the train.
Is Bedloe's change in
attitude a dream come true
for the Hooterville Cannonball?
Well, only time will tell
in this episode entitled
"Bedloe's Nightmare."
(train whistle blows)
♪ 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)
Two pounds of rice.
Two pounds of rice.
Box of dog biscuits.
(barks twice)
One box.
One box of dog biscuits.
Did I say that we
needed raisins?
Raisins? Mm-hmm, yep.
You planning on coming
shopping with me?
No.
Then who's going to
translate this list for Sam?
Can't you read my writing?
I can read it.
I just don't know what it says.
"One brisket of kabubbles"?
One basket of crab apples.
"Fill pens of flavor."
Five pounds of flour.
"Till bricks of dang brashers"?
Two boxes of dog biscuits.
I told you one brick
of dang brashers.
You know something?
The further you go in school,
the worse your penmanship gets.
Now, you copy that
over until it's readable.
(sighing): Yes, ma'am.
Cheerfully.
Yes, ma'am. Aha.
Mom.
Billie Jo, I thought
you left an hour ago.
Well, the Cannonball
hasn't even gotten here yet,
and I told Henry
I'd meet him in front
of the Pixley Emporium
at 11:00 sharp.
Well, Henry'll wait.
For anybody.
Why does the Cannonball
always have to be late
when I'm in a hurry?
Oh, maybe Charley and
Floyd stopped to spike in a rail.
They found one
loose the other day.
It's a lucky thing
they were going slow.
Even when they're going
fast, they're going slow.
Darn it, where are they?
Reel her all the way in, Floyd.
We got to get a-rollin'.
I sure wish we could
fish another ten minutes.
Well, we can't.
We got to pick up Billie Jo.
You remember?
(train whistle blows)
Hey, wait a second.
I didn't give it a start signal.
Is that two clangs or three?
Don't you remember?
Of course I remember.
I invented this,
didn't I?
You invented the clothesline?
No.
Oh, you invented the cowbell.
Course not.
Well, then, just
what did you invent?
I invented tying the
clothesline to the cowbell
so's I could signal
you from the coach.
That's some invention.
Ha!
Yeah, well, they laughed
at Alexander Graham's bell,
but without it, nobody'd
heard the telephone ring.
All right, Edison, give
me the start signal.
Okay.
Three clangs is for stopping.
That's four clangs.
That's the lunch signal.
Well, that'll get you to stop.
Two clangs is for starting.
I know.
Well, why didn't you do it?
I like to see your jowls
jump when you get mad.
(steam hissing, engine chugging)
(whistle blowing)
(barks)
I heard it.
Train's coming.
Finally.
Mom, I wish we could
move somewhere
where we didn't have to depend
on that dirty old,
unreliable, old thing.
Oh, now, hold on, Billie Jo.
All the things you say about
the Cannonball may be true,
including "unreliable,"
except when you need it.
Okay, Mom.
Like the times it raced
Doc Stewart out here
to bring you three
girls into the world.
Mom, it's outlived
its usefulness.
As far as Doc Stewart
coming out here
for the purpose I
just mentioned, yes.
(train whistle blows twice)
But that whistle is still
a mighty cheery sound
to the folks living
in this valley.
Calls the kids to school,
tells the farmer when it's
coming to pick up his crops,
and, uh, hoots out
good news and bad.
Mom, you're just sentimental.
Well, if I am, there are a lot
of other folks living
around here who are, too.
I don't know anybody that
doesn't love that little train.
I hate that little train.
I hate it.
I simply hate it.
Now, now, now, now.
Take it easy, Mr. Bedloe.
Well, I can't help it,
Doctor, I hate that train.
I have nightmares
about it every night.
Oh?
Well, tell me about it.
Well, it's, it's horrible.
I'm sound asleep.
Suddenly I hear the
Cannonball's whistle.
(imitates train whistle)
Then I feel a cold
wind sweeping over me.
I try to move, but I'm tied
to the front of the locomotive.
The track races toward me.
I yell for the engineer
to stop the train.
Stop, stop!
But the engineer
isn't running the train.
It's my archenemy Kate Bradley.
(cackling)
I look ahead and
I see something.
A rail's come loose.
We're gonna crash.
We're gonna crash!
(cackling) Stop... stop!
(cackling)
Stop... stop!
Stop... stop!
(whistle blowing, Kate cackling)
Stop!
Please help me, Doctor, help me!
Mr. Bedloe... Doctor, please.
(singsongy): Mr. Bedloe...
Would you mind?
Oh.
(both chuckling)
I'm sorry.
Oh, that's all right.
Why do I have these nightmares?
There's a very
simple explanation.
You want to destroy
the Hooterville Cannonball
and Kate Bradley.
Well, that's not a nightmare.
Putting the Cannonball
out of existence is
the sweetest dream of my life.
Then why haven't you done it?
Because the president
of our railroad...
Norman P. Curtis...
Likes the Cannonball.
There's a nut for you.
He's threatened me
with immediate dismissal
and loss of my pension
if I ever do it any harm.
Well... there's your answer.
Mm-hmm.
You want to destroy
the Cannonball,
but you know that if you do,
the Cannonball will destroy you.
Hence the nightmare.
What can I do about it?
Lose your hate for that train.
How?
By learning to love it.
Love that miserable...?
Ah, ah, ah, ah... that
beautiful little train.
Keep saying over
and over to yourself:
"I love that train,
I love that train."
You see, Kate, the reason
I invented this device...
I've always been awared
about what would happen
if I was back here and
Charley was in the cab
and I had to get
in touch with him
if there's an emergency.
Well, what kind of an emergency?
Pretty hard to be specific.
This whole rolling
junkyard's an emergency.
Something serious like a man's
hat blowing out the window.
Hey, that's my hat.
I says to myself, "Floyd Smoot,
what would you do if a
thing like that happened?"
Stop the train.
My exact words.
"You're gonna have
to stop this train, Floyd,"
I said to myself.
Will you stop this train?
Hey, take the hands off of that.
I'm supposed to give
the emergency signal.
Hey.
Holy smoke, the coach
must have come uncoupled.
(steam hissing)
(brakes screeching)
Uncle Joe!
Get me out of this.
Where's the dog?
(barking)
Oh, my goodness!
Oh.
How many times have I told
you not to sit by an open window?
Holy smoke.
Floyd! Kate!
Come here, I want to
show you something.
Joe, it must have been
the hand of Providence
that took your hat and
blew it out the window.
No, it was the hand
of Floyd Smoot,
not that I want to take
any credit from anyone.
Well, whoever it was,
let's just be thankful.
Amen.
Now, let's get the
tools out of the box
and get this rail spiked, huh?
JOE: I'll be back in the coach.
Ain't you going to help us?
I'm a passenger.
Oh? You got a ticket? No.
Then you ain't a passenger.
Get to work.
Not only am I suing
the C. & F.W. Railroad
$20 for the loss of a
brand-new hat, but...
Uncle Joe... (clears throat)
you paid eight dollars
for that hat five years ago.
He paid three ten years ago.
I never save sales slips.
Let's see, now, w-where were we?
Suing the railroad for a
brand-new ten-year-old hat.
You ought to pay them
two dollars for losing that hat.
You got better ones.
But that was my favorite.
In addition to suing you
for my favorite hat,
I'm suing you $4.50
for three hours of labor
at a dollar and a half an
hour for repairing the tracks.
Labor?
All you did was stand around
telling Floyd and
Charley what to do.
Well, I ought to ask
'em for more money.
A foreman gets higher wages.
Well, it seems to me,
if you're going to write
any kind of a letter,
it ought to be to have them
replace all that old track.
Yeah, we ought to make Bedloe
cough up some money for that.
That'd be a good way to shut
the Cannonball down for good.
Well, somebody at that railroad
ought to know what's going on,
or there's going
to be a bad wreck.
Maybe I should write a
personal and private letter
to the one friend
the Cannonball has
at the C. & F.W.
Who? The president
Norman P. Curtis.
(hammering)
Come in.
You wouldn't dare.
Oh, Mr. Bedloe,
I was just putting your
name over Mr. Curtis',
as you'd instructed me to do.
I told you to make it permanent.
But Mr. Bedloe, Mr. Curtis is
having only a minor operation.
Well, let's not give
up hope so easily.
Have you read
Kate Bradley's letter?
No, sir, that's
addressed to Mr. Curtis,
and it's marked
"personal and private."
I don't think you
should have e...
Evans, you're not paid to think.
You're paid to grovel.
There, that's better.
It seems that the
Hooterville branchline is
in desperate need of new track.
Otherwise, the Cannonball
might be wrecked
and put out of
commission forever.
That'd mean the economic
ruin of everybody in that valley.
Kate Bradley'd lose
the Shady Rest Hotel.
Oh, sir, I bet your
heart is bursting with joy.
What fiendish plot
are you hatching
to hasten the
Cannonball's demise?
I'm going to save it.
What?
Why, Evans, you see
before you the new Bedloe.
I'm going to write Kate Bradley
and tell her she's got
nothing to worry about;
that I'm taking immediate action
to move that old,
dangerous track.
Oh, that's wonderful, sir.
I'm sure it's exactly what
Mr. Curtis would have done.
Well, Evans, sitting behind
the desk of that good man,
smoking his cigars,
using his electric razor,
some of his goodness
must have rubbed off on me.
I love that train.
I love that little train.
Keep her down, Betty Jo.
Some of the worst
track's along here.
I will.
Floyd, keep your eye
peeled for bum track!
Okay.
Betty Jo, you better be ready
to big-hole her
if Floyd jangles.
Right.
You know, I better signal Mom
that we got a
guest for the hotel.
Yeah. (whistle blowing)
(whistle continues blowing)
Let me see that letter, Evans.
It's for Mrs. Bradley.
May I sit down? No.
How come Bedloe open the letter
Kate sent to Curtis?
Well, I told you.
Mr. Curtis is sick.
What of? Bedloe?
May I please sit down?
Ah-ah-ah!
Them seats is all reserved.
For whom?
For people that
don't like Bedloe.
You're lucky you even
got standing room.
(cowbell clanging)
Take over, Betty Jo.
(screeching)
JOE: What happened?
We found your hat.
What'll I do with these?
You might try
gluing 'em together.
And the psychiatrist
told Mr. Bedloe
the only way he could stop
having those terrible nightmares
was by learning
to love that train.
So he sat right down
and wrote Kate a letter
saying he'd fix the tracks.
Yes.
Hah!
You know something, Uncle Joe?
It's just possible
that those nightmares
frightened Mr. Bedloe
enough to make him change.
Into what?
A good man.
Oh, believe me, Mrs. Bradley,
he loves that train.
He loves that train.
Love that train.
Love that train.
Bedloe's coming up the path.
What are you doing?
Locking the door
so he can't get in.
Unlock it.
(stammers) Uncle Joe,
if Mr. Bedloe is
trying to be nice,
the least we can do
is meet him halfway.
(growling)
And that goes for you, too.
No growling, no treeing.
I mean it.
(barks)
Uncle Joe, we're
gonna treat him nice.
Kate, you're making a mistake.
Hold it, boy.
Come in, Mr. Bedloe.
I thought there might be a
bucket of water over that door.
Mr. Bedloe, how are you?
Hmm? Fine.
Good to see you, Mr. Bedloe.
Darn that Floyd
and his stupid ideas.
We got your room all ready.
The finest in the house.
Take Mr. Bedloe's bag up.
This, uh, this is the
Shady Rest Hotel, isn't it?
Of course.
How come that dog out there
didn't try to bite me,
and Mr. Carson's carried my bag,
and you're so happy to see me?
We're giving you the
red carpet treatment.
You've given me that before.
Only you jerked it
out from under me.
Well... after
reading your letter,
and the wonderful thing
you're going to do
for the branchline...
I figured that if it was
possible for you to change,
it's possible for
us to change, too.
Yes, but...
Mr. Evans said
you love the train,
and if you love the
train, we love you.
Your favorite...
Chicken and
dumplings for dinner.
Love that train.
I love that little train!
Yes!
I love that train.
I...
Aha!
Let go! Let go!
I caught you, huh?
Trying to steal my
shoes, were you?
Oh, no, sir.
I was gonna shine
them for you and,
and put them back inside.
It was gonna be a surprise.
Yes, I imagine it'd
be quite a surprise
to put on those shoes
and find them filled
with cold mush.
Mr. Bedloe, I was
gonna shine them.
Mm?
Well, uh...
why would you do a
nice thing like that for me?
Because you're gonna
do such a nice thing
for the people of this valley
by repairing the track.
Mr. Bedloe, you're a nice man.
Well, I... We love that train.
Love that train!
Mr. Evans, aren't you
going to eat breakfast?
Oh, I haven't got time.
If you don't mind, I'd like
to borrow your hen car
to go into Hooterville, to send
this telegram for Mr. Bedloe.
Oh, sure. Let me see that.
Uncle Joe!
He's not borrowing our hen car
to do Bedloe's dirty work.
Take a look at this, Kate.
"Road superintendent
C. & F.W. Railroad:
"Dispatch track gang to
Hooterville immediately
to begin track work.
Homer Bedloe."
Pretty slick, huh?
Where's the other telegram?
What other one?
The one you're really gonna send
telling him to ignore the first
one which you didn't send,
'cause Bedloe knew
I'd get a look at this.
Mr. Carson,
this is the only telegram
Mr. Bedloe's sending.
I should think it would
convince you of his intentions.
You don't have to convince me
of Bedloe's intentions,
I know what they are.
He wants to get rid of the train
and turn this whole valley
into a depressed area.
Uncle Joe, suspicion
is the root of all evil.
Well it ain't like him
to do nothing for us.
And it ain't like you to
be taken in by him, Kate.
After all the things you
said about Mr. Bedloe,
you're gonna feel mighty small
when he proves you wrong.
Well, maybe so.
But until he does, I
ain't getting measured
for no size six suit.
(knocking on door)
KATE: Mr. Bedloe.
Breakfast in bed.
Breakfast in bed?!
Can I come in? Huh?
Well, I suppose so.
Good morning, Mr. Bedloe.
What's all this about?
Oh, we always do this
for our special guests,
when we really like 'em.
And here's your paper.
HOMER: Thank you.
If there's anything
else you need,
you just holler.
Pooch, come here.
Taste this.
Kate. What's the matter?
Kate, I just went in to town.
You were wrong about Bedloe.
Evans did send that telegram
just like I said he would.
You mean the other
one? What other one?
The one he sent
telling 'em to ignore
the first one because
he didn't send...
No. The one Evans showed you.
About sending
for the track gang.
Oh, that one.
I thought that was the one
you thought he wouldn't send.
That was the one I let you think
I thought he wasn't gonna send.
Then you knew that Bedloe
was on the level all the time.
Why, of course.
The minute he
walked into the hotel,
I knew he was a changed man.
Can't understand why
I didn't think so, too.
You owe me an apology.
You owe him one, too.
Mrs. Bradley...
while I was shaving,
somebody stole my suit.
And that's it!
I was pressing it for you.
Mr. Bedloe, there ain't
nothing we wouldn't do
to make you feel at home.
Didn't burn a hole in it?
Mr. Bedloe, suspicison
is the root of all evil.
We like you.
Oh, shut up.
Now see here, Mrs. Bradley,
what are you trying to do to me?
From the moment
I walked in here,
it's been one intolerable
thing after another:
courtesy, kindness,
consideration...
And a man can only stand
so much fiendish torture.
You lay your cards on the table,
and I'll lay mine on the table.
All right.
I've been gaslighting you
into revealing what
you're really up to.
Very well, I issued an order
to have the old tracks removed.
With never a thought of
replacing them with new ones.
Right.
Well, certainly glad
we understand each other again.
Now I really feel at home.
Kate, I told you this miserable
cuss was up to no good.
Sending them phony telegrams.
But I thought you wanted
me to think that you thought...
Kate, when you're
wrong, admit you're wrong.
All right, Bedloe, what's
your next dirty move?
Well, when that track
gang gets here tomorrow,
they're gonna start
pulling up the tracks,
and the Hooterville
Cannonball will never run again.
I hate that train.
I hate that little train!
Just a minute, Homer.
Sam went up to the county seat,
got the judge to
issue this little paper.
It's an injunction
preventing you
from touching those tracks.
Mm...?!
County Superior Court, eh?
Mm-hmm. Well, Mrs. Bradley,
knowing what a worthy
adversary you are,
I had the foresight to go
to State Supreme Court
and have them
issue an injunction
against your injunction.
I'll see you tomorrow
when they start
pulling up the first track.
(crying)
Anybody know where I could sell
a secondhand
conductor's uniform?
It was secondhand
when you bought it.
Oh, Charley,
I'm never gonna get to
drive the Cannonball again.
There, there, honey.
BEDLOE: Love that train.
Love that train!
I love that train.
(growling)
You've lost your nice
little smile, haven't you?
(growling)
Well... what's everybody
so glum about?
I've helped put dozens of small
branchlines out of business.
You'll get over it.
You'll soon move away
to another desolate area
and find new ways to eke
out a miserable existence.
There's no cause for despair.
At least we'll be
able to sleep at night.
I'll sleep.
But you'll get one of
those nightmares again.
Why don't you just
pack up and leave?
When the last
rusty rail is removed.
Mr. Bedloe,
I wish I had put cold
mush in your shoes.
It just isn't right
for the Cannonball
to stop running
without folks getting a
chance to say good-bye to her.
Isn't it usual for
cancelled railroads
to have some kind of a last run?
Yeah, folks snip up
the seats for souvenirs
and take pictures.
How can we have a last run
if Mr. Bedloe's gonna start
tearing up the tracks
tomorrow morning?
Oh, well, I could
postpone the destruction
long enough for that.
Don't do us any favors, Bedloe.
Uh, I-I think that's
a nice gesture.
If there's one thing I'm not,
it's a sore winner.
If you like, you can bring
your camera and snap pictures.
Yes, I could record the passing
of a revolting
piece of Americana.
And we'll see to it
that you get the picture-
taking place of honor.
Let me go! Let me go!
Ooh, that's hot!
You ought to get some
pretty good pictures
of the broken rail
from up here, Homer.
Yeah, we just hope you're
around to see 'em developed.
Mrs. Bradley, you
can't frighten me.
I know, but in case we do,
and you change your
mind about fixing the track,
just, uh, jingle
me in the cabin.
I'll stop if I can.
You!
I'm the engineer.
Let me go! Let me go!
(engine chugging)
Let me go! Let me go!
Mrs. Bradley, stop this train.
(cackling)
That's what Mr. Evans said
I did in Homer's nightmare.
(cackling)
Slow down.
No need to worry about
this stretch of track...
Sound as a dollar.
Course, Bedloe don't know that.
Help! Help!
Stop the train! Stop the train!
You gonna fix the track?
I promise! I promise!
(cowbell clanging)
You better stop her, Charley.
Oh, let's bluff
him a little longer.
Yeah. No, no, no!
We can't bluff much longer.
Take a look.
Holy smoke!
(screeching)
(sobbing)
It's a good thing Mr. Curtis
got out of the hospital
in time to back Mom up, and
make Mr. Bedloe back down.
Yeah, Mr. Curtis sure
got us some fast action.
I wonder how long
it'll take the track gang
to prepare all
that rickety track.
Well, all told, there's about
20 miles that needs going over,
but we got a good
foreman on the job.
Swing that hammer, John Henry.
Now, faster, Bedloe.
Yeah, to this tempo.
(with steady rhythm):
I love that train.
I love that train.
I love that train.
I love that train.
♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪
This has been a
Filmways Presentation.
representative Homer Bedloe
has been having terrible
nightmares about the Cannonball
and his failed
attempts to get rid of it.
So his psychiatrist suggests
he learn to love the train.
Is Bedloe's change in
attitude a dream come true
for the Hooterville Cannonball?
Well, only time will tell
in this episode entitled
"Bedloe's Nightmare."
(train whistle blows)
♪ 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)
Two pounds of rice.
Two pounds of rice.
Box of dog biscuits.
(barks twice)
One box.
One box of dog biscuits.
Did I say that we
needed raisins?
Raisins? Mm-hmm, yep.
You planning on coming
shopping with me?
No.
Then who's going to
translate this list for Sam?
Can't you read my writing?
I can read it.
I just don't know what it says.
"One brisket of kabubbles"?
One basket of crab apples.
"Fill pens of flavor."
Five pounds of flour.
"Till bricks of dang brashers"?
Two boxes of dog biscuits.
I told you one brick
of dang brashers.
You know something?
The further you go in school,
the worse your penmanship gets.
Now, you copy that
over until it's readable.
(sighing): Yes, ma'am.
Cheerfully.
Yes, ma'am. Aha.
Mom.
Billie Jo, I thought
you left an hour ago.
Well, the Cannonball
hasn't even gotten here yet,
and I told Henry
I'd meet him in front
of the Pixley Emporium
at 11:00 sharp.
Well, Henry'll wait.
For anybody.
Why does the Cannonball
always have to be late
when I'm in a hurry?
Oh, maybe Charley and
Floyd stopped to spike in a rail.
They found one
loose the other day.
It's a lucky thing
they were going slow.
Even when they're going
fast, they're going slow.
Darn it, where are they?
Reel her all the way in, Floyd.
We got to get a-rollin'.
I sure wish we could
fish another ten minutes.
Well, we can't.
We got to pick up Billie Jo.
You remember?
(train whistle blows)
Hey, wait a second.
I didn't give it a start signal.
Is that two clangs or three?
Don't you remember?
Of course I remember.
I invented this,
didn't I?
You invented the clothesline?
No.
Oh, you invented the cowbell.
Course not.
Well, then, just
what did you invent?
I invented tying the
clothesline to the cowbell
so's I could signal
you from the coach.
That's some invention.
Ha!
Yeah, well, they laughed
at Alexander Graham's bell,
but without it, nobody'd
heard the telephone ring.
All right, Edison, give
me the start signal.
Okay.
Three clangs is for stopping.
That's four clangs.
That's the lunch signal.
Well, that'll get you to stop.
Two clangs is for starting.
I know.
Well, why didn't you do it?
I like to see your jowls
jump when you get mad.
(steam hissing, engine chugging)
(whistle blowing)
(barks)
I heard it.
Train's coming.
Finally.
Mom, I wish we could
move somewhere
where we didn't have to depend
on that dirty old,
unreliable, old thing.
Oh, now, hold on, Billie Jo.
All the things you say about
the Cannonball may be true,
including "unreliable,"
except when you need it.
Okay, Mom.
Like the times it raced
Doc Stewart out here
to bring you three
girls into the world.
Mom, it's outlived
its usefulness.
As far as Doc Stewart
coming out here
for the purpose I
just mentioned, yes.
(train whistle blows twice)
But that whistle is still
a mighty cheery sound
to the folks living
in this valley.
Calls the kids to school,
tells the farmer when it's
coming to pick up his crops,
and, uh, hoots out
good news and bad.
Mom, you're just sentimental.
Well, if I am, there are a lot
of other folks living
around here who are, too.
I don't know anybody that
doesn't love that little train.
I hate that little train.
I hate it.
I simply hate it.
Now, now, now, now.
Take it easy, Mr. Bedloe.
Well, I can't help it,
Doctor, I hate that train.
I have nightmares
about it every night.
Oh?
Well, tell me about it.
Well, it's, it's horrible.
I'm sound asleep.
Suddenly I hear the
Cannonball's whistle.
(imitates train whistle)
Then I feel a cold
wind sweeping over me.
I try to move, but I'm tied
to the front of the locomotive.
The track races toward me.
I yell for the engineer
to stop the train.
Stop, stop!
But the engineer
isn't running the train.
It's my archenemy Kate Bradley.
(cackling)
I look ahead and
I see something.
A rail's come loose.
We're gonna crash.
We're gonna crash!
(cackling) Stop... stop!
(cackling)
Stop... stop!
Stop... stop!
(whistle blowing, Kate cackling)
Stop!
Please help me, Doctor, help me!
Mr. Bedloe... Doctor, please.
(singsongy): Mr. Bedloe...
Would you mind?
Oh.
(both chuckling)
I'm sorry.
Oh, that's all right.
Why do I have these nightmares?
There's a very
simple explanation.
You want to destroy
the Hooterville Cannonball
and Kate Bradley.
Well, that's not a nightmare.
Putting the Cannonball
out of existence is
the sweetest dream of my life.
Then why haven't you done it?
Because the president
of our railroad...
Norman P. Curtis...
Likes the Cannonball.
There's a nut for you.
He's threatened me
with immediate dismissal
and loss of my pension
if I ever do it any harm.
Well... there's your answer.
Mm-hmm.
You want to destroy
the Cannonball,
but you know that if you do,
the Cannonball will destroy you.
Hence the nightmare.
What can I do about it?
Lose your hate for that train.
How?
By learning to love it.
Love that miserable...?
Ah, ah, ah, ah... that
beautiful little train.
Keep saying over
and over to yourself:
"I love that train,
I love that train."
You see, Kate, the reason
I invented this device...
I've always been awared
about what would happen
if I was back here and
Charley was in the cab
and I had to get
in touch with him
if there's an emergency.
Well, what kind of an emergency?
Pretty hard to be specific.
This whole rolling
junkyard's an emergency.
Something serious like a man's
hat blowing out the window.
Hey, that's my hat.
I says to myself, "Floyd Smoot,
what would you do if a
thing like that happened?"
Stop the train.
My exact words.
"You're gonna have
to stop this train, Floyd,"
I said to myself.
Will you stop this train?
Hey, take the hands off of that.
I'm supposed to give
the emergency signal.
Hey.
Holy smoke, the coach
must have come uncoupled.
(steam hissing)
(brakes screeching)
Uncle Joe!
Get me out of this.
Where's the dog?
(barking)
Oh, my goodness!
Oh.
How many times have I told
you not to sit by an open window?
Holy smoke.
Floyd! Kate!
Come here, I want to
show you something.
Joe, it must have been
the hand of Providence
that took your hat and
blew it out the window.
No, it was the hand
of Floyd Smoot,
not that I want to take
any credit from anyone.
Well, whoever it was,
let's just be thankful.
Amen.
Now, let's get the
tools out of the box
and get this rail spiked, huh?
JOE: I'll be back in the coach.
Ain't you going to help us?
I'm a passenger.
Oh? You got a ticket? No.
Then you ain't a passenger.
Get to work.
Not only am I suing
the C. & F.W. Railroad
$20 for the loss of a
brand-new hat, but...
Uncle Joe... (clears throat)
you paid eight dollars
for that hat five years ago.
He paid three ten years ago.
I never save sales slips.
Let's see, now, w-where were we?
Suing the railroad for a
brand-new ten-year-old hat.
You ought to pay them
two dollars for losing that hat.
You got better ones.
But that was my favorite.
In addition to suing you
for my favorite hat,
I'm suing you $4.50
for three hours of labor
at a dollar and a half an
hour for repairing the tracks.
Labor?
All you did was stand around
telling Floyd and
Charley what to do.
Well, I ought to ask
'em for more money.
A foreman gets higher wages.
Well, it seems to me,
if you're going to write
any kind of a letter,
it ought to be to have them
replace all that old track.
Yeah, we ought to make Bedloe
cough up some money for that.
That'd be a good way to shut
the Cannonball down for good.
Well, somebody at that railroad
ought to know what's going on,
or there's going
to be a bad wreck.
Maybe I should write a
personal and private letter
to the one friend
the Cannonball has
at the C. & F.W.
Who? The president
Norman P. Curtis.
(hammering)
Come in.
You wouldn't dare.
Oh, Mr. Bedloe,
I was just putting your
name over Mr. Curtis',
as you'd instructed me to do.
I told you to make it permanent.
But Mr. Bedloe, Mr. Curtis is
having only a minor operation.
Well, let's not give
up hope so easily.
Have you read
Kate Bradley's letter?
No, sir, that's
addressed to Mr. Curtis,
and it's marked
"personal and private."
I don't think you
should have e...
Evans, you're not paid to think.
You're paid to grovel.
There, that's better.
It seems that the
Hooterville branchline is
in desperate need of new track.
Otherwise, the Cannonball
might be wrecked
and put out of
commission forever.
That'd mean the economic
ruin of everybody in that valley.
Kate Bradley'd lose
the Shady Rest Hotel.
Oh, sir, I bet your
heart is bursting with joy.
What fiendish plot
are you hatching
to hasten the
Cannonball's demise?
I'm going to save it.
What?
Why, Evans, you see
before you the new Bedloe.
I'm going to write Kate Bradley
and tell her she's got
nothing to worry about;
that I'm taking immediate action
to move that old,
dangerous track.
Oh, that's wonderful, sir.
I'm sure it's exactly what
Mr. Curtis would have done.
Well, Evans, sitting behind
the desk of that good man,
smoking his cigars,
using his electric razor,
some of his goodness
must have rubbed off on me.
I love that train.
I love that little train.
Keep her down, Betty Jo.
Some of the worst
track's along here.
I will.
Floyd, keep your eye
peeled for bum track!
Okay.
Betty Jo, you better be ready
to big-hole her
if Floyd jangles.
Right.
You know, I better signal Mom
that we got a
guest for the hotel.
Yeah. (whistle blowing)
(whistle continues blowing)
Let me see that letter, Evans.
It's for Mrs. Bradley.
May I sit down? No.
How come Bedloe open the letter
Kate sent to Curtis?
Well, I told you.
Mr. Curtis is sick.
What of? Bedloe?
May I please sit down?
Ah-ah-ah!
Them seats is all reserved.
For whom?
For people that
don't like Bedloe.
You're lucky you even
got standing room.
(cowbell clanging)
Take over, Betty Jo.
(screeching)
JOE: What happened?
We found your hat.
What'll I do with these?
You might try
gluing 'em together.
And the psychiatrist
told Mr. Bedloe
the only way he could stop
having those terrible nightmares
was by learning
to love that train.
So he sat right down
and wrote Kate a letter
saying he'd fix the tracks.
Yes.
Hah!
You know something, Uncle Joe?
It's just possible
that those nightmares
frightened Mr. Bedloe
enough to make him change.
Into what?
A good man.
Oh, believe me, Mrs. Bradley,
he loves that train.
He loves that train.
Love that train.
Love that train.
Bedloe's coming up the path.
What are you doing?
Locking the door
so he can't get in.
Unlock it.
(stammers) Uncle Joe,
if Mr. Bedloe is
trying to be nice,
the least we can do
is meet him halfway.
(growling)
And that goes for you, too.
No growling, no treeing.
I mean it.
(barks)
Uncle Joe, we're
gonna treat him nice.
Kate, you're making a mistake.
Hold it, boy.
Come in, Mr. Bedloe.
I thought there might be a
bucket of water over that door.
Mr. Bedloe, how are you?
Hmm? Fine.
Good to see you, Mr. Bedloe.
Darn that Floyd
and his stupid ideas.
We got your room all ready.
The finest in the house.
Take Mr. Bedloe's bag up.
This, uh, this is the
Shady Rest Hotel, isn't it?
Of course.
How come that dog out there
didn't try to bite me,
and Mr. Carson's carried my bag,
and you're so happy to see me?
We're giving you the
red carpet treatment.
You've given me that before.
Only you jerked it
out from under me.
Well... after
reading your letter,
and the wonderful thing
you're going to do
for the branchline...
I figured that if it was
possible for you to change,
it's possible for
us to change, too.
Yes, but...
Mr. Evans said
you love the train,
and if you love the
train, we love you.
Your favorite...
Chicken and
dumplings for dinner.
Love that train.
I love that little train!
Yes!
I love that train.
I...
Aha!
Let go! Let go!
I caught you, huh?
Trying to steal my
shoes, were you?
Oh, no, sir.
I was gonna shine
them for you and,
and put them back inside.
It was gonna be a surprise.
Yes, I imagine it'd
be quite a surprise
to put on those shoes
and find them filled
with cold mush.
Mr. Bedloe, I was
gonna shine them.
Mm?
Well, uh...
why would you do a
nice thing like that for me?
Because you're gonna
do such a nice thing
for the people of this valley
by repairing the track.
Mr. Bedloe, you're a nice man.
Well, I... We love that train.
Love that train!
Mr. Evans, aren't you
going to eat breakfast?
Oh, I haven't got time.
If you don't mind, I'd like
to borrow your hen car
to go into Hooterville, to send
this telegram for Mr. Bedloe.
Oh, sure. Let me see that.
Uncle Joe!
He's not borrowing our hen car
to do Bedloe's dirty work.
Take a look at this, Kate.
"Road superintendent
C. & F.W. Railroad:
"Dispatch track gang to
Hooterville immediately
to begin track work.
Homer Bedloe."
Pretty slick, huh?
Where's the other telegram?
What other one?
The one you're really gonna send
telling him to ignore the first
one which you didn't send,
'cause Bedloe knew
I'd get a look at this.
Mr. Carson,
this is the only telegram
Mr. Bedloe's sending.
I should think it would
convince you of his intentions.
You don't have to convince me
of Bedloe's intentions,
I know what they are.
He wants to get rid of the train
and turn this whole valley
into a depressed area.
Uncle Joe, suspicion
is the root of all evil.
Well it ain't like him
to do nothing for us.
And it ain't like you to
be taken in by him, Kate.
After all the things you
said about Mr. Bedloe,
you're gonna feel mighty small
when he proves you wrong.
Well, maybe so.
But until he does, I
ain't getting measured
for no size six suit.
(knocking on door)
KATE: Mr. Bedloe.
Breakfast in bed.
Breakfast in bed?!
Can I come in? Huh?
Well, I suppose so.
Good morning, Mr. Bedloe.
What's all this about?
Oh, we always do this
for our special guests,
when we really like 'em.
And here's your paper.
HOMER: Thank you.
If there's anything
else you need,
you just holler.
Pooch, come here.
Taste this.
Kate. What's the matter?
Kate, I just went in to town.
You were wrong about Bedloe.
Evans did send that telegram
just like I said he would.
You mean the other
one? What other one?
The one he sent
telling 'em to ignore
the first one because
he didn't send...
No. The one Evans showed you.
About sending
for the track gang.
Oh, that one.
I thought that was the one
you thought he wouldn't send.
That was the one I let you think
I thought he wasn't gonna send.
Then you knew that Bedloe
was on the level all the time.
Why, of course.
The minute he
walked into the hotel,
I knew he was a changed man.
Can't understand why
I didn't think so, too.
You owe me an apology.
You owe him one, too.
Mrs. Bradley...
while I was shaving,
somebody stole my suit.
And that's it!
I was pressing it for you.
Mr. Bedloe, there ain't
nothing we wouldn't do
to make you feel at home.
Didn't burn a hole in it?
Mr. Bedloe, suspicison
is the root of all evil.
We like you.
Oh, shut up.
Now see here, Mrs. Bradley,
what are you trying to do to me?
From the moment
I walked in here,
it's been one intolerable
thing after another:
courtesy, kindness,
consideration...
And a man can only stand
so much fiendish torture.
You lay your cards on the table,
and I'll lay mine on the table.
All right.
I've been gaslighting you
into revealing what
you're really up to.
Very well, I issued an order
to have the old tracks removed.
With never a thought of
replacing them with new ones.
Right.
Well, certainly glad
we understand each other again.
Now I really feel at home.
Kate, I told you this miserable
cuss was up to no good.
Sending them phony telegrams.
But I thought you wanted
me to think that you thought...
Kate, when you're
wrong, admit you're wrong.
All right, Bedloe, what's
your next dirty move?
Well, when that track
gang gets here tomorrow,
they're gonna start
pulling up the tracks,
and the Hooterville
Cannonball will never run again.
I hate that train.
I hate that little train!
Just a minute, Homer.
Sam went up to the county seat,
got the judge to
issue this little paper.
It's an injunction
preventing you
from touching those tracks.
Mm...?!
County Superior Court, eh?
Mm-hmm. Well, Mrs. Bradley,
knowing what a worthy
adversary you are,
I had the foresight to go
to State Supreme Court
and have them
issue an injunction
against your injunction.
I'll see you tomorrow
when they start
pulling up the first track.
(crying)
Anybody know where I could sell
a secondhand
conductor's uniform?
It was secondhand
when you bought it.
Oh, Charley,
I'm never gonna get to
drive the Cannonball again.
There, there, honey.
BEDLOE: Love that train.
Love that train!
I love that train.
(growling)
You've lost your nice
little smile, haven't you?
(growling)
Well... what's everybody
so glum about?
I've helped put dozens of small
branchlines out of business.
You'll get over it.
You'll soon move away
to another desolate area
and find new ways to eke
out a miserable existence.
There's no cause for despair.
At least we'll be
able to sleep at night.
I'll sleep.
But you'll get one of
those nightmares again.
Why don't you just
pack up and leave?
When the last
rusty rail is removed.
Mr. Bedloe,
I wish I had put cold
mush in your shoes.
It just isn't right
for the Cannonball
to stop running
without folks getting a
chance to say good-bye to her.
Isn't it usual for
cancelled railroads
to have some kind of a last run?
Yeah, folks snip up
the seats for souvenirs
and take pictures.
How can we have a last run
if Mr. Bedloe's gonna start
tearing up the tracks
tomorrow morning?
Oh, well, I could
postpone the destruction
long enough for that.
Don't do us any favors, Bedloe.
Uh, I-I think that's
a nice gesture.
If there's one thing I'm not,
it's a sore winner.
If you like, you can bring
your camera and snap pictures.
Yes, I could record the passing
of a revolting
piece of Americana.
And we'll see to it
that you get the picture-
taking place of honor.
Let me go! Let me go!
Ooh, that's hot!
You ought to get some
pretty good pictures
of the broken rail
from up here, Homer.
Yeah, we just hope you're
around to see 'em developed.
Mrs. Bradley, you
can't frighten me.
I know, but in case we do,
and you change your
mind about fixing the track,
just, uh, jingle
me in the cabin.
I'll stop if I can.
You!
I'm the engineer.
Let me go! Let me go!
(engine chugging)
Let me go! Let me go!
Mrs. Bradley, stop this train.
(cackling)
That's what Mr. Evans said
I did in Homer's nightmare.
(cackling)
Slow down.
No need to worry about
this stretch of track...
Sound as a dollar.
Course, Bedloe don't know that.
Help! Help!
Stop the train! Stop the train!
You gonna fix the track?
I promise! I promise!
(cowbell clanging)
You better stop her, Charley.
Oh, let's bluff
him a little longer.
Yeah. No, no, no!
We can't bluff much longer.
Take a look.
Holy smoke!
(screeching)
(sobbing)
It's a good thing Mr. Curtis
got out of the hospital
in time to back Mom up, and
make Mr. Bedloe back down.
Yeah, Mr. Curtis sure
got us some fast action.
I wonder how long
it'll take the track gang
to prepare all
that rickety track.
Well, all told, there's about
20 miles that needs going over,
but we got a good
foreman on the job.
Swing that hammer, John Henry.
Now, faster, Bedloe.
Yeah, to this tempo.
(with steady rhythm):
I love that train.
I love that train.
I love that train.
I love that train.
♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪
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