Petticoat Junction (1963–1970): Season 3, Episode 11 - Bedloe's Successor - full transcript

(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)

(brakes squeal)

There it is again,
that peculiar feeling

that something's gonna happen.

Oh, well.

It's back.



Well, you know,

that feeling of impending doom?

Ah, you must have felt it.

(howling)

What a beautiful morning.

Yeah.

Real second-piece
of pie weather.

Joe, do you feel
something strange?

Are you still harping

on that silly female
premonition?

The trouble with you women is,

you ain't got enough
to keep you busy.

Look at me.

If you was active like I am,

you wouldn't have time to
worry about that nonsense.

It's worse this time.

Something's gonna happen.

What's gonna happen?

Well, I can't quite pin it
down, but it's somewhere

between a calamity
and a disaster.

Homer Bedloe.

May I have a room, please?

I was wrong.

It's beyond a disaster.

It's a catastrophe.

Hi, Bedloe.

Does the lead locust know
you broke out of the pack?

Evidently, my arrival
has taken you by surprise.

Yes.

Usually we get a
whiff of brimstone,

and you appear
in a puff of smoke.

Once, Mrs. Bradley,

my black little heart
would have swelled

with pride at your praise,

but behold I'm
defeated, a failure.

Let me be the first to
kick you while you're down.

Really?

Why? Did the little
orphans expose your plot

to put an octopus
in their wading pool?

Please, Mrs. Bradley,
all I ask in this,

my darkest hour, is sanctuary.

Why would an important man

like the vice president
of the C. & F.W. Railroad

stoop so low as to want a room

in a miserable, isolate,
termite-ridden hovel?

Isn't that what you called it?

No, I called it a
miserable, isolated,

termite-ridden firetrap.

That's what I called it.

Oh, that's right, that's
what you called it.

Oh, I mean, Mrs.
Bradley, please,

whatever I said,
just give me a room.

We could put him
in number eight,

the one where the
ceiling collapsed

after the last rain.

The paper's
peeling off the walls.

Anything.

Only just an address

where I can receive my
unemployment checks,

where I can pass the
last few remaining years

of my dreary and useless life.

I'm torturing myself by
looking out this window

at that little train,
the Cannonball.

Ugh.

It will race by,

mocking me with
its sneering whistle,

a whistle which
seems to say, "There...

"there sits Homer Bedloe,

the fink that fizzled."

Bravo, bravo.

That's the best performance
you've put on to date.

Oh, I'm not acting, Mr. Carson.

Here, here, Mrs. Bradley,
here's my last ten dollars.

Please give me number eight.

Oh, we're all full up,

and, um, we're gonna
be that way for some time.

Well, just fluff up a
few rags in the hall,

lay some old
newspapers in the coal bin,

anything to rest
this human debris.

Homer Bedloe, every
time you come around here,

we have trouble.

Believe me, Mrs. Bradley,

I couldn't do you any
harm if I wanted to.

Norman Curtis, the
president of the railroad,

has-has pulled my claws,

extracted my fangs,
sold me down the river.

What does that mean?

I've been fired.

What?

In total disgrace, they
forced me to watch

while they ripped my
name off the office door

and put up my successor's,
Wilbur Goodfellow.

So, Norman Curtis
finally saw through you.

Well, you should see...

you should see the
man they put in my chair.

Has Wilbur Goodfellow got
evil, squinty little eyes like I have?

No, no.

His are frank and clear
and open and blue.

Is he lean and wiry
and weasel-like like me?

No, no, he's big and strong

and kind and generous
like a Saint Bernard.

In short, he's repulsive.

Pardon me.

(mouthing)

I'm looking for Kate Bradley.

Oh, I'm Kate Bradley.

Oh.

My superior, Norman
Curtis of the C. & F.W.,

asked me to stop by
and pay his respects.

Well, that was very nice of him.

Oh, and you must
be Mr. Joseph Carson.

That's right. Glad to know you.

What's this?

What have we here?

Homer Bedloe.

You were warned not to come

within a mile of
railroad property,

and you were ordered

to leave these
good people alone.

BEDLOE: Oh, I'm only
a penniless old man.

When Mr. Curtis fired me,
he took away my pension.

And with good cause.

You plotted to destroy
the Cannonball.

Out!

There's no place to go.

My mother won't take me back.

Try The Salvation Army.

I did, I did.

They won't take me, either.

If this scoundrel has
caused you any financial loss,

I'm instructed to
make it up to you.

Oh, no, no, thank you very much.

He didn't...

I'll, uh, be here
for several days

inspecting the Spur
Line and the Cannonball.

Well, you're not thinking of
shutting down the railroad?

Good heavens, no.

Mr. Curtis would as
soon cut off his right arm

as the Cannonball.

Only the lowest of swine
would think of such a thing.

May I register, please?

You're out of luck, Goodfellow.

They haven't any rooms left.

We do for him.

For you, the hotel's off limits.

Please, Mrs.
Bradley, let me stay.

I'll carry the luggage,
fetch the ice water,

page the guests.

All right, Homer, you can stay.

Thank you, thank you.

Thank you, Mrs. Bradley.

- (bell clangs) -Front.

Right this way, Mr. Goodfellow.

You've made me so
happy. (smacks lips)

This is a fine train you
have here, Mr. Smoot.

Believe me, this is
railroading at its best.

Thank you, Mr. Goodfellow.

Did you hear what
he said, Charley?

He sure is smart
for an executive.

- Yeah.
- And, Mr. Pratt,

a lot of these know-it-all
young engineers

could take lessons from you.

Oh, shucks, it ain't
really me, Mr. Goodfellow.

When you've got a good ol'
engine like the Cannonball.

She knows when there's
a friend aboard the train.

(chuckles) It's time the
railroad rewarded you men

for you loyalty and hard work.

When I get back
to the home office,

I'll put a bug in
Mr. Curtis' ear.

Okay, and while you're at it,

don't forget to tell him about
our loyalty and hard work.

(chuckles) And that's
only the beginning.

I'm going to have the
locomotive overhauled,

the entire train repainted,
the roadbed repaired.

- Wow.
- Oh, that's marvelous.

I've already ordered
new uniforms

for Floyd and Charley and...

Here, Mrs. Bradley,
let me do that.

New uniforms.

The way I look at it is

every dollar spent
on the Cannonball

will return a hundredfold.

Oh, Mr. Goodfellow, you
shouldn't be doing that.

Why not?

Well, what would Mr. Curtis say

if he saw his new vice
president sweeping a porch?

(chuckles) He'd say,
"Goodfellow, I outrank you.

Give me that broom."

Gee, Mr. Goodfellow, I thought

all railroad vice
presidents were rat finks.

(laughs)

KATE: Ooh, you'll have to
excuse Betty Jo's language.

What she meant to say was

that the only vice president
she's ever known was a...

um...

(loud, echoes): rat fink!

No need to eavesdrop, Bedloe.

And I'll say this

right to your rat fink face.

I see an era of booming
prosperity ahead

for this community, and I
want the C. & F.W. Railroad

to have a part in it.

Oh, those words burn
like a red-hot poker,

my dream of a desolate
valley trampled in the dust.

And I'm not leaving the
Shady Rest out of my plans.

I'll have the tracks
moved closer to the hotel

so your guests won't
have to walk so far.

Oh, I wouldn't expect
anything like that.

(chuckles) It's
the least I can do,

considering some of the
deeds of my predecessor.

When I think of what
he's done to you...

If you weren't an
unemployed has-been, Bedloe,

I'd-I'd...

Thrash me within an
inch of my miserable life.

Exactly.

Scat!

Golly, Charley,

you sure look like a
first-class engineer.

You look pretty good yourself.

Mighty thoughty
of Mr. Goodfellow.

Is there a fly on
my nose, Charley?

Yeah, why?

Whack it for me, would you?

Oh, whack it yourself.

You're closer to it.

I would, but I don't want to
get wrinkles in my sleeves.

Charley, what are you doing?

Nothing. Charley
wouldn't hurt a fly.

Yeah, and I'll tell you
another thing he wouldn't do,

that's help a passenger
on with his packages.

- Or either would you.
- Get that...

Get that stuff away from me.

Can't you see
I'm all dressed up?

Here, you take it.

I'm the engineer.

I'm a passenger, and...

Uncle Joe, don't argue.

I'm due to meet Gertie
Sanford in Pixley.

Next thing they won't
want to get into the cab

for fear they'll get
grease on their new duds.

Gosh, I never thought of that.

Yeah, we'd better
ride in the coach.

Come on, boys.

I'd appreciate it if I could
get home and change.

Gertie and I want to see

the new movie
at the Pixley Bijou.

You'll like it.

Hoot Gibson rides
into this ranch...

Oh, that as last week.

This week they got
another good Western,

Texans Don't Cry.

Why don't they cry, Charley?

I'll tell you why
Texans don't cry.

They're happy because
you two chowderheads

were born somewhere else.

Oh, hey, can give me a hand
with these? They're heavy.

As soon as I take
Mr. Kimberly his lunch.

(grunts)

My, you look nice, Mom.

Thank you, dear.

Why don't you try this way, hon.

- Have a good time.
- Thank you, dear.

I will.

Betty Jo, those are too heavy.

Get Uncle Joe to
help you with them.

He already did.

He told me how to lift them
without breaking my back.

Will you put those down?

Too much work to
be done around here.

I'm not going to Pixley.

You've got to.

Mrs. Sanford's expecting you.

I just don't feel right about
skipping out to a movie

when the hotel's full of guests.

Mom, when there are no guests,

you can't go
because we're broke.

And when there are
guests, you can't go

because there's too much work.

Just about the size of it.

The trouble with
you is you don't know

how to put other
people in charge.

Oh, is that my trouble?

Well, you don't
see Conrad Hilton

missing a good movie
'cause his hotels are full up.

He wouldn't.

BOBBIE JO: Mom.

Mom, Betty Jo.

Look what Mr. Kimberly
gave me, a dollar!

He says he just loves the
service at the Shady Rest!

Out of my way, Bobbie Jo!
These are Mr. Kimberly's bags!

Well, I just discovered
a new vitamin: money.

All right, all right,
stop your whining.

You'll get your bone.

- KATE: Uncle Joe.
- Yeah?

I'm going into Pixley now.

The girls will get dinner
for you and the guests.

You and Gertie have a good
time. Don't worry about us.

All right, here's your
bone. Now shut up.

Bone?

But the dog's in
here. What do you...?

Oh, Uncle Joe, you're not...

Thank you, thank you,
you generous people.

Mr. Bedloe, go in the
kitchen and eat at the table.

Uncle Joe!

Uncle Joe, how could
you toss him that bone?

Oh, don't worry, Kate, we
got a better one for the dog.

I want you to understand this:

anyone under my roof is to
be treated as a human being,

even if it is Mr. Bedloe.

I haven't any money,
and my rent's overdue.

We'll carry you on the cuff

until your unemployment
check arrives.

I'm not worthy of such kindness.

I gotta go now.
The train is waiting.

And, Mr. Bedloe, help
yourself to the icebox.

You're making a mistake, Kate.

There's nothing more treacherous
than an unemployed cobra.

Joe, give Mr. Bedloe a chance.

Now that's he's
lost his influence,

it could be the beginning
of his metamorphosis.

Metamorphosis?

Now that's sinking pretty low,

getting sick so we have
to quarantine the hotel,

just when business is good, too.

Oh, no, Uncle Joe,
you see, meta...

I don't have time to explain.

- GOODFELLOW: Oh, there you are, you...!
- BEDLOE: Please...

Mercy, what is that?

GOODFELLOW: Get out! Out!

Save me, Mrs. Bradley, save me!

It's a good thing I came in
that backdoor just as I did.

There he was with his scrawny
hands deep in your potato salad.

You just can't trust
that miserable ingrate.

Oh, no, it's all right,
Mr. Goodfellow.

I gave that miserable
ingrate permission.

Yeah, yeah, yeah! I told you so.

Your trust is
misplaced, Mrs. Bradley.

Mr. Goodfellow's right, Kate.

Remember, a vulture
never changes his spots.

All right, Bedloe.

But as long as we're under the
same roof, keep out of my way.

I can't stand the
sight of you. (growls)

Enjoy your evening
out, Mrs. Bradley.

Thank you.

There's a fine upstanding man.

Yeah. I thought
when they made me,

they broke the mold,
but I was wrong.

There goes another Joe Carson.

One is plenty, thank you.

(knocking)

Come in.

Everything's
certainly going well.

You speak when you're
spoken to, Goodfellow.

Yes, sir.

Sit. I said, sit!

Yes, sir.

Well, Mr. Bedloe,

we're certainly putting
it over, aren't we?

What do you mean,
we're putting it over?

- You almost ruined everything!
- I don't know what you mean.

Well, it's as plain as the
nose on your stupid face!

Look what you
did to this valley.

Business is booming,
everybody's happy,

this hotel is thriving!

You know, I could, I could...

Thrash me within an
inch of my worthless life?

That's the way I'd warm up.

You were merely to lull
these simpleminded yokels

into a false sense of security.

Isn't that what I did?

Will you shut up and listen?!

You went too far.

That oily, benevolent,
confidence-inspiring manner

of yours almost ruined
my beautiful scheme.

- But... Ah!
- Hey!

The farmers are shipping
their crop by the Cannonball,

salesmen are riding the train.

If the home office hears
that there's a profit to be made

from this ramshackle
branch line, I'll be ruined.

I'll never be able to run the
Cannonball out of business.

Please give me
another chance. Please?

The average scoundrel
would be defeated,

but I'm two-faced
and double-brained.

Back in kindergarten

when other children were
studying finger painting,

I was majoring in skullduggery.

Then you have a new plan?

Certainly, I got a new plan.

Now, this is what
we're going to do.

First...

Keep 'em coming, Mom.
Over easy for Mr. Smith,

scramble three for Mr. Bryan,
baste two for Mrs. Milford,

and sunny-side up
for Mr. Goodfellow.

Hey, Kate, got another
order for room service.

Mrs. Canby wants ham
and eggs over easy,

rye toast, orange juice,
and a pot of coffee.

But I just gave you
Mrs. Canby's breakfast.

It smelled so good,
I ate it on the way.

Uncle Joe.

Oh, say, you haven't told us
about your big night in Pixley.

Yeah, Mom, how was the movie?

Oh, the movie.

Yeah, yeah. How was it?

What was it about?

We got to dish up the food.

Get the tray.

Just tell me what it was about.

Well, it was about this woman

who had a very bright,
attractive daughter.

And?

Well, this woman was
trying to, uh, feed her guests,

and all the bright, attractive
daughter wanted to do

was to stand around
gabbing and gabbing.

And so the guests got
sore and they checked out.

Oh, Mom.

Now, you scoot out.

- Mom, Mom, guess what?!
- (Goodfellow laughing)

Well, I couldn't guess.

Well, explain it,
Mr. Goodfellow.

Well, perhaps some other
time. Your mother's busy.

Oh, go on and tell her.

What is it, Mr. Goodfellow?

You see? She wants
to hear it. Go ahead.

Well, as part of my plan...

Mr. Goodfellow's gonna
give Charley and Floyd raises,

the Cannonball's
getting its face lifted,

and during the operation,
the main line's gonna loan

Charley and Floyd
a diesel locomotive.

Isn't that marvelous?

I think so.

Well, now, let's see.

Charley and Floyd are
having their faces lifted,

- and, uh...
- Oh, Mom. (chuckles)

Well, explain it,
Mr. Goodfellow.

Well, what Betty Jo
was trying to say is...

What I was trying
to say is, Mom...

Stop interrupting.

Go ahead, Mr. Goodfellow.

I've instructed the
superintendent of the division

to recondition the Cannonball.

While she's in the
roundhouse at Riverton,

the Spur Line will have the
use of another locomotive.

That's great,
Mr. Goodfellow, great.

Well, let's have a party!

That's a good idea, Bobbie Jo.

We can have a going away
party for the Cannonball.

And another one when it
comes back all bright and shiny.

If you make ice cream,
I'll turn the freezer.

Now, girls, I...

We've just gotta have a
party for the Cannonball.

Well, Mr. Goodfellow, since
you're responsible for all this,

would you be the guest of honor?

Why, why, I'd be delighted!

(laughs)

The Cannonball will arrive at
your foundry tomorrow night.

The instant it gets there,

I want you to melt
it down to scrap.

Yes, that's right, into scrap.

Every last bolt
and flake of rust.

By whose authority?!

By the order of Homer Bedloe,

vice president of
C. & F.W. Railroad.

At last, I've signed the
Cannonball's death warrant.

This is my finest hour.

If the Cannonball is
to be melted into scrap,

and there's no other
locomotive to pull the train,

what are these
people going to do?

Do? They'll fulfill
my fondest dreams:

They'll abandon their
homes and farms,

this whole valley
will be populated

by lizards and coyotes.

As for Kate Bradley's hotel,

the termites will be
picking their teeth

with the slivers
from the Shady Rest.

Mr. Bedloe, you are a fiend!

Yeah, that's right.

Winner of the
Fiends National Open

three years in a year.

This here occasion
calls for a speech.

It sure does, but not by you.

I think Mr. Goodfellow
should say a few words.

FLOYD: Yeah!

Please do.

My dear friends... Psst!

Well, I hate to cut short
such a happy occasion,

but the good ol' Cannonball
has a long journey ahead.

We don't want to keep
the men at the foundry...

uh, the roundhouse waiting.

Floyd and me's
gotta get the ol' girl

on the way to the beauty parlor.

Well, first, I have a
surprise for everybody:

some rare old movies
of the Cannonball.

Movies of the Cannonball?

Oh, where'd you get 'em, Mom?

Well, remember the other night

when I went to the movies
in Pixley with Gertie?

Well, my old friend the
projectionist, Squint Whittaker,

loaned me the film, and
along with that, a projector.

So, why don't we
all go into the lobby

and have our coffee
and cake there?

Well, after all, Mrs.
Bradley, the roundhouse is...

(quietly): Let them
have their little moment.

Keep this happy thought in mind.

In a few hours' time,

their cute little train
will be melted down

into a shapeless lump.

Here, we're all ready to start.

Bobbie Jo, turn out the lights.

(projector clicking)

Now, the first scene shows the
Cannonball bringing the governor

to Hooterville on July 4, 1916.

Oh, my goodness,

how could Squint Whittaker
get the film so mixed up?

That's not the Cannonball.

Mom, that colonel,
he looks like...

My gracious.

Maybe the Cannonball
film's on the next reel.

You tricked me.

You assured me you hadn't
made a picture in years.

How was I to know
they'd be shown in Pixley?

Why, they're too old
even for television.

Back to Hollywood, you ham!

(scoffs)

Ham.

Ham? Ham?!

You knew it all the
time, Kate Bradley!

You played me like
an ordinary trump.

But I'll have you know,
down at railroad headquarters,

I'm still the second barracuda,

and in this devilish brain,
there lurks a foolproof scheme

to destroy the
Cannonball forever.

How long do you think
you'd be vice president

if Norman Curtis knew
that you hired an actor

to put the Cannonball
out of existence?

Oh, don't tell
him! Don't tell him!

You can't send him
that film! It'd ruin me!

It wouldn't be the
Cannonball they melt down,

but my gold cup that I won
for the Fiends National Open.

Oh!

Gee, we sure came
close to losing the train.

Yeah, Mom, if you hadn't
gone to the Pixley Bijou,

we never would have known

that Mr. Goodfellow
was a movie actor.

Well, it was sheer luck,

those particular
movies being on the bill.

You know, a
coincidence like that

wouldn't happen
again in a million years.

Excuse me.

I wonder... if I might
have a room, please?

♪ Petticoat Junction. ♪

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Filmways Presentation.