The Beverly Hillbillies (1962–1971): Season 3, Episode 12 - The Boarder Stays - full transcript
♪ Come and listen to my
story about a man named Jed ♪
♪ A poor mountaineer,
barely kept his family fed ♪
♪ And then one day, he
was shooting at some food ♪
♪ And up through the ground
come a-bubbling crude ♪
♪ Oil, that is ♪
♪ Black gold ♪
♪ Texas tea ♪
♪ Well, the first thing you
know, old Jed's a millionaire ♪
♪ The kinfolk said, "Jed,
move away from there" ♪
♪ Said, "Californy is the
place you ought to be" ♪
♪ So they loaded up the truck
and they moved to Beverly ♪
♪ Hills, that is ♪
♪ Swimming pools, movie stars. ♪
Arthur Pinckney
to see you, Chief.
Pinckney, the
incomparable Pinckney.
How are things at the Clampetts?
Mr. Drysdale, sir, in
my 40 years as a butler
I have served in some
unique households
and run athwart
some bizarre families,
but the Clampetts,
sir, if I may use
one of their own
curious expressions,
take the rag off the bush.
Well, now, I warned you that it
wouldn't exactly
be smooth sailing.
To be precise, sir, you said
you could only promise me
blood, sweat, tears
and money. Right.
I've had the blood,
sweat and tears,
now, I should like the money.
You're leaving the Clampetts?
I'm leaving the country.
But you've got
to stay with them.
You're our cultural beachhead.
Consider me another Dunkirk.
Pinckney, suppose you tell us
exactly what happened.
Must I?
It will help you
to talk about it.
Yes, perhaps you tried to force
too much culture
upon them too soon.
On the contrary, sir,
I started off in
a very light vein,
fun and games as it were. Good.
I told them their lawn
was ideal for cricket
and suggested a match.
To my delight, they responded
with a great deal of enthusiasm.
Well, here we are.
Of course, a
regulation cricket match
has 22 contestants.
The field is somewhat larger.
But the important thing here is
what we can learn from cricket.
What's that, Mr. Pinckney?
To compete fiercely,
to win modestly,
and above all,
to lose gracefully.
In other words,
good sportsmanship.
Well, that sounds good to me.
And why are you
wearin' them big gloves
and that thick
padding, Mr. Pinckney?
And carrying that big stick?
This is a cricket bat.
I'm wearing the padding
and the gloves as a protection
when I do the catching.
But I'll explain
it as I go along.
Are we ready to start
the cricket match?
Yes. Of course, back in England,
ladies don't
usually participate.
We consider it a bit dangerous.
I ain't scared.
Me, neither.
Well, then let's get on
with the cricket match.
Here's mine.
(cricket chirping)
Here's mine! Here's mine!
JED: Now, hold on.
Mr. Pinckney ain't had
a chance to catch his yet.
Go ahead, Mr. Pinckney.
Yeah. They's some dandy
ones over there by the hedge.
Good chirpers, too.
Yeah. But you won't need
those gloves and padding.
You won't need that club.
Our crickets ain't a bit mean.
This here is about
as big as they get
over here. (chirping)
Don't you try to get away.
You just may be a winner.
ELLY MAY: Ain't you going to
catch you one, Mr. Pinckney?
Then we can go to
matching crickets.
I got mine, but I ain't going
to show it until you get yours.
I've changed my mind.
I do not wish to play.
Doggone. For a feller who made
so much of being a good loser,
he sure took it poorly.
Thus ended my attempt
to introduce the
noble game of cricket.
But I might add that rugby
met an even quicker fate.
What happened?
At the first scrummage, young
Master Jethro kicked the ball
into the neighboring
city of Westwood!
Get a grip on yourself.
Yes. They just don't
understand British games.
Quite, sir.
I then turned my attention
to improving their wardrobe.
Excellent! Clothes make the man!
Yes. But, this time, I decided
to split their ranks, so to speak.
Excellent! Divide and conquer!
Yes. I resolved to concentrate
on the young people first.
Excellent. The greener
limbs are easier bent.
Might we do away
with the platitudes?
Beg your pardon. Granted.
Well, first, I must say, my
wardrobe innovations met
with dazzling success.
Oh, yes. Quite
marvelous, really.
Do you like to
ride, Mistress Elly?
Yes, sir. I sure do.
Have you ever ridden to hounds?
Well, we only got one
hound around right now...
Our old brown hound Duke.
Now, before we
progress sartorially,
let us pause for a brief
lesson in English pronunciation.
Let me hear you
say "brown hound."
Brown hound.
Yes. Now, listen carefully
and repeat after me.
"The brown hound sleeps
soundly on the ground."
Brown hound sleeps
soundly on the ground.
Listen again, and
say it exactly as I do.
The brown hound sleeps
soundly on the ground.
The brown hound sleeps
soundly on the ground.
I think she's got it!
By Jove, she's got it!
What's she got, Mr. Pinckney?
Say it for your father.
He already knows it. Knows what?
About the brown hound
sleeping soundly on the ground.
Oh, yeah, I do, Mr. Pinckney,
but you can't hardly
blame old Duke.
He's getting along in years,
and it kind of warms his
bones to lay out in the sun.
Yes. (door closes)
I'm all ready to go
riding, Mr. Pinckney.
Hey, Elly, you got
on the wrong getup.
You're a girl.
Well, this here is what
Mr. Pinckney told me to put on.
I reckon you made a
mistake, Mr. Pinckney.
They are just alike.
Perfectly proper, sir.
They are both correctly attired.
You don't say!
Hear that, Jethro?
Come on. Let's go riding.
Okay. But, if it's
going to be a long ride,
we better put some
gas in the truck.
I didn't intend them
to ride in the truck.
You didn't? No, sir.
However, tomorrow,
I'll get some horses.
Well, don't bother,
Mr. Pinckney.
We ain't even got a buggy.
Oh, what an experience!
It seems to me you have
nothing to be discouraged about.
You were making
wonderful progress.
So I thought, sir.
I even persuaded Mr. Clampett
to don the walking
tweeds of a country squire.
Magnificent!
Bravo, Pinckney!
A real step forward!
And two back. What do you mean?
Well, as I say,
when Mr. Clampett
made his appearance,
I was highly encouraged.
Excellent, sir!
Excellent! Smashing!
Thank you. Now, what
did you say this was again?
That is a shooting stick.
That's what I thought you said,
but dogged if I can
figure out how to load it,
much less shoot it.
(laughs) That's a good one, sir.
Now, Squire Clampett,
you are properly attired
to stroll about the estate.
Oh. Well, come on, Granny!
GRANNY: Just a minute.
Granny is going
to accompany you?
Ain't that why you
got two sets of these,
just like you done for
Jethro and Elly May?
It's no use, Jed.
I can't go walking with you
till I take these in some more.
My britches has done
fell down twice already.
Might I have a spot of tea?
Yes. Of course. What
would you like with it?
A ticket to London.
Aw! Now, Pinckney,
don't run out on us.
Where is that vaunted
British courage?
Where is that British tenacity?
That British spirit?
Show it to us, Pinckney!
Very well. Make it
three tickets to London.
Rather decent tea, actually.
Oh, thank you.
Now I really must be on
my way back to England.
Oh, please don't go!
Those hillbillies need you.
To paraphrase your great leader,
"Never, in the field
of cultural endeavor
have so few known
so little about so much."
Sorry. Here is my account, sir.
I've made it an even £1,000.
Are you out of your
tea-drinking mind!?
That's almost $3,000!
You were only with the
Clampetts a day and a night.
Yeah. They gave you a
lovely room and fed you.
Fed me?
Sir, have you ever partaken
of the curious substances
which Granny so
quaintly calls "vittles"?
She does cook up some
rather strange dishes.
I have eaten in the
jungles of Africa.
I have shared the
peculiar bill of fare
of the Australian bushmen,
Berber tribesmen
and Tibetan goatherds.
But, for pure
culinary improbability,
none approaches
the loathsome cuisine
proffered me by
those hillbillies.
It's time to get washed up
for supper, Mr. Pinckney.
May I assist you, madam?
You may not.
Around here, we wash ourselves.
I mean, may I assist
you in serving the meal?
Of course not. You're a boarder.
Ah, yes. I tend to forget.
Would you allow me
to select the proper wines
to accompany our first meal?
JED: Howdy, folks.
How soon we having
vittles, Granny?
Pretty soon, now.
Mr. Pinckney here
wants to have some wine.
I reckon he's old enough.
If you will tell me
what we're having,
I'll choose a wine
for each course.
Well, we'll commence with soup.
Oh, good. Vichyssoise?
Turtle? Consommé?
Catfish.
I simmer it in a good,
hearty, tadpole stock.
Tadpole, madam?
Now, don't try to find
out how she makes it.
Granny don't give away her
cooking secrets to strangers.
Then we'll have some possum
shanks with gopher gravy,
collard greens, grits,
deviled hawk eggs,
little bite-sized owlburgers.
And, for dessert,
candied crawdads!
She's really
putting it on for you!
We ain't had a meal
like that in weeks.
How fortunate.
Yes, you are.
Well, Mr. Pinckney,
what kind of wine
do you want with that?
I think the only
appropriate beverage
would be a large
tumbler of hemlock.
What a gastronomic nightmare!
Culinary reform should be part
of your cultural
improvement program.
Oh, never mind that.
I want to know what
this $3,000 is for.
That includes the cost of
my luggage and automobile,
both of which were
impounded by the hillbillies.
Why?
You insisted I pose as a lodger.
We couldn't tell them
you were a butler.
They're opposed to
the idea of servants.
In their case, so am I.
Tell us what happened.
Well, after a night of terror,
during which my bedchamber
was overrun with raccoons,
possums, monkeys and
other weird vertebrates,
I attempted, under cover of
dawn this morning, to evacuate
our cultural beachhead.
(rooster crowing)
Shh!
(rooster crowing)
(rooster crowing)
(rooster crowing)
(rooster squawking)
Jed, Jethro, the boarder's
trying to sneak away
without paying his rent!
Come quick!
Stop, chicken thief!
Catch him! Head him off!
Let's cut across, Jethro!
What's the matter, Granny?
Mr. Pinckney
skipped out on his rent
and taken our chickens with him!
He didn't get far, Granny.
Pa and Jethro caught him.
Fetch him back!
This is most ignominious.
(engine revving)
Might as well turn off
your engine, Mr. Pinckney.
You ain't goi" no place.
What should we do
with him, Granny?
Don't know, yet, but
I'll figure something.
Well, figure fast, will ya?
This car's gettin'
a might heavy.
As a punishment for
my attempted escape,
Granny put me to work
making moonbeams.
Making moonbeams?
Moonlight?
Moonshine?
Yes, that's it.
An ingenious
distillation apparatus;
something called a "still."
Well, how did you get away?
My guard, a large hound
by the name of Duke,
became intoxicated
by inhaling the fumes.
While the brown hound
slept soundly on the ground,
I escaped.
Well, Granny, it looks like
your boarder got away again.
What happened to Duke?
Looks like he sniffed himself
up a right tolerable drunk.
(hiccups)
(hiccups)
You reckon Mr. Pinckney
got his car and his suitcases?
I don't see how he could.
We best have a look.
Hey, Jethro, how
about taking me riding
in Mr. Pinckney's car?
Can't, Elly.
Granny says no
driving it in the house.
Still here, Granny.
Well, as long as he's gone,
put it back outside.
Grab an end, Jethro.
Reckon we'll have to
tip it sideways again
to get it through the door.
Yes, sir.
Then I want you
to start painting me
some new boardi" house signs.
Just like the old ones?
Not quite. I'm making
a few changes.
Mr. Drysdale, sir,
you're wasting your time.
Once I retrieve my
luggage and my motorcar,
I intend to put Beverly
Hills far behind me.
Now, if you'll stay a week,
I'll raise my offer to $500.
You Americans amuse me.
You think money
can buy anything.
$750.
Sir, there are some things
that cannot be bought
at any price.
$1,000.
Fortunately, I am
not one of them.
Chief, look!
(Jane and Drysdale reading):
(Jane reading):
Pinckney, you hop out
and take those signs down.
Miss Hathaway and I will go on
up to the house and pave the way
for you to move back in.
Very good, sir.
(bullet ricochets)
Get your hands up in
the air, you rent-skippin',
chicken-snatchin',
sign-stealin' sidewinder!
Now just a moment, madam!
I said get your hands in the air
and march up to the house!
I refuse to be intimidated.
(gunshot, bullet ricochets)
Oh!
Now march!
Left, left, left, right, left.
Left, left, left, right, left.
He didn't get you did he? No.
No, no, I saw him!
Did you? Yeah, he
tried to take my chicken.
All right, quieten
down, everybody.
Let's get this trial going.
They don't need a trial.
He's a chicken thief.
I caught him red-handed.
Sit down, Granny.
Code of the hills says
everybody gets a fair hearing.
(quietly): This is outrageous
placing me at the mercy
of a kangaroo court.
Relax, here's a
tranquilizer for you.
What's that chicken
thief stealin' now?
He just slipped
something into his pocket.
Granny, stop calling him that.
He ain't guilty till
he's proved guilty.
Yes, sir.
All right, y'all ready
to start this trial?
Yes, sir. Are you
ready, chicken thief?
Sit down.
This may set Anglo-Saxon
jurisprudence back
a thousand years.
Don't worry, Pinckney.
This is all playing
right into our hands.
Wait and see.
All right, let's hear
what all's being held
against this feller.
"It is held against this fellow
"that he skipped
out on his rent,
"stole Elly May's chicken,
"tried to steal Granny's
boardin' house signs
and got 15-year-old
falling-down drunk."
I object!
What 15-year-old?
That there hound dog Duke.
(hiccups)
And pret' near
blowed up my still.
Ran off and left
the fire burnin'.
Too late, Granny,
that ain't wrote down.
It don't count.
Now we heard Granny's side.
Let's hear Mr. Pinckney's side.
Your Honor, Judge Clampett...
Now, Mr. Drysdale, strictly
speaking, I ain't a judge.
I'm just here to see that this
trial is kept fair and square
and to keep Granny from shootin'
that rent-skippin',
sign-stealin' chicken thief.
Your Honor... That
is, Mr. Clampett...
The defendant, Arthur
Pinckney, has decided
to plead guilty as charged.
(all cheering)
Jed, turn him loose.
Give him a 200-foot start.
I'll load my shotgun with
rock salt and bacon rind
and season his
hind quarters for him!
(gavel banging)
Your Honor,
Mr. Clampett, I didn't finish.
As his punishment,
Mr. Pinckney would like to suggest
that he be sentenced
to a week at hard labor
here in your home.
Nothin' doin'!
We don't want his kind around!
Sit down, Granny, that
ain't for you to decide.
I think in fairness,
we ought to remember
the good thing
Mr. Pinckney's done.
Like what?
Well, like bringing us
them fine new clothes.
Probably stole 'em.
May I address the court?
Sure, speak right up.
I would like to say
that I know Mr. Arthur Pinckney
to be a man of good character
and I will vouch for him.
I, too, know Arthur Pinckney,
and he is a man of
unimpeachable integrity,
impeccable demeanor
and irrefutable probity.
Thank you.
Well, that's one
fer and one against.
Sir, Your Honor, may
the defendant speak?
Hop to it.
Sir, I won't go
into all the reasons
why I want to spend a week here,
but suffice it to say there
are a thousand of them.
Keep talking, Mr. Pinckney.
I do hope you say yes, sir.
I can be very useful, really.
I can do the shopping and
the serving and the cleaning
and the tutoring, and
I can be everything
from chef to chauffeur.
It's a deal.
Ah!
Granny, this is what
you call riding in style.
It sure is.
Too bad Jethro and Elly
May couldn't come with us.
Well, quick as we get two
more riding suits like this,
we can all go together.
You look nice, Mr. Pinckney.
Thank you, sir. Where to, sir?
Right down to
the middle of town.
Yeah, Wilshire Boulevard.
Mr. Clampett, sir, may
I ask you a question?
Sure, go right ahead.
Is this the only motor
vehicle you have?
Yep.
Would you like to
have another one, sir?
Oh, I guess not, Mr. Pinckney.
Besides, I don't know
where you'd get
another one like this.
They don't make
cars like this no more.
I'll stake my life
on that, madam.
Mr. Clampett, sir, when we're
going down Wilshire Boulevard,
would you allow me to stop at a
first-class automotive showroom?
What fer?
Well, sir, that's where
the finest machines
are put on display for
people to look at and buy.
I'm sorry, Mr. Pinckney,
but this beauty ain't for sale.
Very good, sir.
I'll tell you someplace you
can stop, the supermarket.
I want to pick up some sowbelly
to go with my dandelion greens
for supper tonight.
Madam, may I do
your shopping for you?
You know good
sowbelly when you see it?
I have something else in mind.
I'd like to prepare for
you a gourmet dinner.
What do you reckon a gourmet is?
I don't know, but if
he fries it good in lard,
I reckon we can eat it.
All right, Mr. Pinckney,
you can cook vittles tonight.
Thank you, sir.
Do Granny good
to get out of the
kitchen for a change.
We shall all profit, sir.
Now make yourselves comfy.
I shall serve the
coffee and the dessert
here in the drawing room.
May I ask how you've
enjoyed the meal so far,
the turtle soup, the
lobster thermidor?
Just dandy.
Best I ever had. Fine.
Finger-lickin' good.
Oh, thank you.
Hope that soup we
throwed out the window
don't kill the flowers.
How could anybody eat
soup made out of turtles?
Pitiful.
And that thing he
called Welsh rabbit
didn't have no
rabbit in it at all.
Just a lot of doggone
melted cheese.
Wasn't too bad after
Granny dumped the grits in it.
What was it he called
that big crawdad?
That was lobster thermidor.
That didn't taste bad neither
once we poured hot
gopher gravy over it.
You don't suppose
Mr. Pinckney caught on, do you?
Shucks, no, he had it pret' near
pitch-dark in there.
Nothing burning but candles.
Shh. Yonder he comes.
The pièce de résistance:
crêpes suzettes.
Nothing but pancakes.
There he goes again.
Sure fond of the dark.
What's he fixin' to do now?
He's lit another fire.
If he ain't careful, he's
gonna burn this house down.
Regular firebug.
If that rascal ever does
any cookin' out in the
woods, he's gonna...
Uh-oh, I was afraid of that.
He set the pancakes on fire!
Don't nobody panic!
There will be a slight
delay in serving the dessert.
(theme song playing)
♪ Well, now it's time
to say good-bye ♪
♪ To Jed and all his kin ♪
♪ And they would
like to thank you folks ♪
♪ Fer kindly droppin' in ♪
♪ You're all invited back
next week to this locality ♪
♪ To have a heapin'
helpin' of their hospitality ♪
♪ Hillbilly, that is ♪
♪ Set a spell ♪
♪ Take your shoes off ♪
♪ Y'all comeback now, y'hear? ♪
This has been a
Filmways Presentation.
story about a man named Jed ♪
♪ A poor mountaineer,
barely kept his family fed ♪
♪ And then one day, he
was shooting at some food ♪
♪ And up through the ground
come a-bubbling crude ♪
♪ Oil, that is ♪
♪ Black gold ♪
♪ Texas tea ♪
♪ Well, the first thing you
know, old Jed's a millionaire ♪
♪ The kinfolk said, "Jed,
move away from there" ♪
♪ Said, "Californy is the
place you ought to be" ♪
♪ So they loaded up the truck
and they moved to Beverly ♪
♪ Hills, that is ♪
♪ Swimming pools, movie stars. ♪
Arthur Pinckney
to see you, Chief.
Pinckney, the
incomparable Pinckney.
How are things at the Clampetts?
Mr. Drysdale, sir, in
my 40 years as a butler
I have served in some
unique households
and run athwart
some bizarre families,
but the Clampetts,
sir, if I may use
one of their own
curious expressions,
take the rag off the bush.
Well, now, I warned you that it
wouldn't exactly
be smooth sailing.
To be precise, sir, you said
you could only promise me
blood, sweat, tears
and money. Right.
I've had the blood,
sweat and tears,
now, I should like the money.
You're leaving the Clampetts?
I'm leaving the country.
But you've got
to stay with them.
You're our cultural beachhead.
Consider me another Dunkirk.
Pinckney, suppose you tell us
exactly what happened.
Must I?
It will help you
to talk about it.
Yes, perhaps you tried to force
too much culture
upon them too soon.
On the contrary, sir,
I started off in
a very light vein,
fun and games as it were. Good.
I told them their lawn
was ideal for cricket
and suggested a match.
To my delight, they responded
with a great deal of enthusiasm.
Well, here we are.
Of course, a
regulation cricket match
has 22 contestants.
The field is somewhat larger.
But the important thing here is
what we can learn from cricket.
What's that, Mr. Pinckney?
To compete fiercely,
to win modestly,
and above all,
to lose gracefully.
In other words,
good sportsmanship.
Well, that sounds good to me.
And why are you
wearin' them big gloves
and that thick
padding, Mr. Pinckney?
And carrying that big stick?
This is a cricket bat.
I'm wearing the padding
and the gloves as a protection
when I do the catching.
But I'll explain
it as I go along.
Are we ready to start
the cricket match?
Yes. Of course, back in England,
ladies don't
usually participate.
We consider it a bit dangerous.
I ain't scared.
Me, neither.
Well, then let's get on
with the cricket match.
Here's mine.
(cricket chirping)
Here's mine! Here's mine!
JED: Now, hold on.
Mr. Pinckney ain't had
a chance to catch his yet.
Go ahead, Mr. Pinckney.
Yeah. They's some dandy
ones over there by the hedge.
Good chirpers, too.
Yeah. But you won't need
those gloves and padding.
You won't need that club.
Our crickets ain't a bit mean.
This here is about
as big as they get
over here. (chirping)
Don't you try to get away.
You just may be a winner.
ELLY MAY: Ain't you going to
catch you one, Mr. Pinckney?
Then we can go to
matching crickets.
I got mine, but I ain't going
to show it until you get yours.
I've changed my mind.
I do not wish to play.
Doggone. For a feller who made
so much of being a good loser,
he sure took it poorly.
Thus ended my attempt
to introduce the
noble game of cricket.
But I might add that rugby
met an even quicker fate.
What happened?
At the first scrummage, young
Master Jethro kicked the ball
into the neighboring
city of Westwood!
Get a grip on yourself.
Yes. They just don't
understand British games.
Quite, sir.
I then turned my attention
to improving their wardrobe.
Excellent! Clothes make the man!
Yes. But, this time, I decided
to split their ranks, so to speak.
Excellent! Divide and conquer!
Yes. I resolved to concentrate
on the young people first.
Excellent. The greener
limbs are easier bent.
Might we do away
with the platitudes?
Beg your pardon. Granted.
Well, first, I must say, my
wardrobe innovations met
with dazzling success.
Oh, yes. Quite
marvelous, really.
Do you like to
ride, Mistress Elly?
Yes, sir. I sure do.
Have you ever ridden to hounds?
Well, we only got one
hound around right now...
Our old brown hound Duke.
Now, before we
progress sartorially,
let us pause for a brief
lesson in English pronunciation.
Let me hear you
say "brown hound."
Brown hound.
Yes. Now, listen carefully
and repeat after me.
"The brown hound sleeps
soundly on the ground."
Brown hound sleeps
soundly on the ground.
Listen again, and
say it exactly as I do.
The brown hound sleeps
soundly on the ground.
The brown hound sleeps
soundly on the ground.
I think she's got it!
By Jove, she's got it!
What's she got, Mr. Pinckney?
Say it for your father.
He already knows it. Knows what?
About the brown hound
sleeping soundly on the ground.
Oh, yeah, I do, Mr. Pinckney,
but you can't hardly
blame old Duke.
He's getting along in years,
and it kind of warms his
bones to lay out in the sun.
Yes. (door closes)
I'm all ready to go
riding, Mr. Pinckney.
Hey, Elly, you got
on the wrong getup.
You're a girl.
Well, this here is what
Mr. Pinckney told me to put on.
I reckon you made a
mistake, Mr. Pinckney.
They are just alike.
Perfectly proper, sir.
They are both correctly attired.
You don't say!
Hear that, Jethro?
Come on. Let's go riding.
Okay. But, if it's
going to be a long ride,
we better put some
gas in the truck.
I didn't intend them
to ride in the truck.
You didn't? No, sir.
However, tomorrow,
I'll get some horses.
Well, don't bother,
Mr. Pinckney.
We ain't even got a buggy.
Oh, what an experience!
It seems to me you have
nothing to be discouraged about.
You were making
wonderful progress.
So I thought, sir.
I even persuaded Mr. Clampett
to don the walking
tweeds of a country squire.
Magnificent!
Bravo, Pinckney!
A real step forward!
And two back. What do you mean?
Well, as I say,
when Mr. Clampett
made his appearance,
I was highly encouraged.
Excellent, sir!
Excellent! Smashing!
Thank you. Now, what
did you say this was again?
That is a shooting stick.
That's what I thought you said,
but dogged if I can
figure out how to load it,
much less shoot it.
(laughs) That's a good one, sir.
Now, Squire Clampett,
you are properly attired
to stroll about the estate.
Oh. Well, come on, Granny!
GRANNY: Just a minute.
Granny is going
to accompany you?
Ain't that why you
got two sets of these,
just like you done for
Jethro and Elly May?
It's no use, Jed.
I can't go walking with you
till I take these in some more.
My britches has done
fell down twice already.
Might I have a spot of tea?
Yes. Of course. What
would you like with it?
A ticket to London.
Aw! Now, Pinckney,
don't run out on us.
Where is that vaunted
British courage?
Where is that British tenacity?
That British spirit?
Show it to us, Pinckney!
Very well. Make it
three tickets to London.
Rather decent tea, actually.
Oh, thank you.
Now I really must be on
my way back to England.
Oh, please don't go!
Those hillbillies need you.
To paraphrase your great leader,
"Never, in the field
of cultural endeavor
have so few known
so little about so much."
Sorry. Here is my account, sir.
I've made it an even £1,000.
Are you out of your
tea-drinking mind!?
That's almost $3,000!
You were only with the
Clampetts a day and a night.
Yeah. They gave you a
lovely room and fed you.
Fed me?
Sir, have you ever partaken
of the curious substances
which Granny so
quaintly calls "vittles"?
She does cook up some
rather strange dishes.
I have eaten in the
jungles of Africa.
I have shared the
peculiar bill of fare
of the Australian bushmen,
Berber tribesmen
and Tibetan goatherds.
But, for pure
culinary improbability,
none approaches
the loathsome cuisine
proffered me by
those hillbillies.
It's time to get washed up
for supper, Mr. Pinckney.
May I assist you, madam?
You may not.
Around here, we wash ourselves.
I mean, may I assist
you in serving the meal?
Of course not. You're a boarder.
Ah, yes. I tend to forget.
Would you allow me
to select the proper wines
to accompany our first meal?
JED: Howdy, folks.
How soon we having
vittles, Granny?
Pretty soon, now.
Mr. Pinckney here
wants to have some wine.
I reckon he's old enough.
If you will tell me
what we're having,
I'll choose a wine
for each course.
Well, we'll commence with soup.
Oh, good. Vichyssoise?
Turtle? Consommé?
Catfish.
I simmer it in a good,
hearty, tadpole stock.
Tadpole, madam?
Now, don't try to find
out how she makes it.
Granny don't give away her
cooking secrets to strangers.
Then we'll have some possum
shanks with gopher gravy,
collard greens, grits,
deviled hawk eggs,
little bite-sized owlburgers.
And, for dessert,
candied crawdads!
She's really
putting it on for you!
We ain't had a meal
like that in weeks.
How fortunate.
Yes, you are.
Well, Mr. Pinckney,
what kind of wine
do you want with that?
I think the only
appropriate beverage
would be a large
tumbler of hemlock.
What a gastronomic nightmare!
Culinary reform should be part
of your cultural
improvement program.
Oh, never mind that.
I want to know what
this $3,000 is for.
That includes the cost of
my luggage and automobile,
both of which were
impounded by the hillbillies.
Why?
You insisted I pose as a lodger.
We couldn't tell them
you were a butler.
They're opposed to
the idea of servants.
In their case, so am I.
Tell us what happened.
Well, after a night of terror,
during which my bedchamber
was overrun with raccoons,
possums, monkeys and
other weird vertebrates,
I attempted, under cover of
dawn this morning, to evacuate
our cultural beachhead.
(rooster crowing)
Shh!
(rooster crowing)
(rooster crowing)
(rooster crowing)
(rooster squawking)
Jed, Jethro, the boarder's
trying to sneak away
without paying his rent!
Come quick!
Stop, chicken thief!
Catch him! Head him off!
Let's cut across, Jethro!
What's the matter, Granny?
Mr. Pinckney
skipped out on his rent
and taken our chickens with him!
He didn't get far, Granny.
Pa and Jethro caught him.
Fetch him back!
This is most ignominious.
(engine revving)
Might as well turn off
your engine, Mr. Pinckney.
You ain't goi" no place.
What should we do
with him, Granny?
Don't know, yet, but
I'll figure something.
Well, figure fast, will ya?
This car's gettin'
a might heavy.
As a punishment for
my attempted escape,
Granny put me to work
making moonbeams.
Making moonbeams?
Moonlight?
Moonshine?
Yes, that's it.
An ingenious
distillation apparatus;
something called a "still."
Well, how did you get away?
My guard, a large hound
by the name of Duke,
became intoxicated
by inhaling the fumes.
While the brown hound
slept soundly on the ground,
I escaped.
Well, Granny, it looks like
your boarder got away again.
What happened to Duke?
Looks like he sniffed himself
up a right tolerable drunk.
(hiccups)
(hiccups)
You reckon Mr. Pinckney
got his car and his suitcases?
I don't see how he could.
We best have a look.
Hey, Jethro, how
about taking me riding
in Mr. Pinckney's car?
Can't, Elly.
Granny says no
driving it in the house.
Still here, Granny.
Well, as long as he's gone,
put it back outside.
Grab an end, Jethro.
Reckon we'll have to
tip it sideways again
to get it through the door.
Yes, sir.
Then I want you
to start painting me
some new boardi" house signs.
Just like the old ones?
Not quite. I'm making
a few changes.
Mr. Drysdale, sir,
you're wasting your time.
Once I retrieve my
luggage and my motorcar,
I intend to put Beverly
Hills far behind me.
Now, if you'll stay a week,
I'll raise my offer to $500.
You Americans amuse me.
You think money
can buy anything.
$750.
Sir, there are some things
that cannot be bought
at any price.
$1,000.
Fortunately, I am
not one of them.
Chief, look!
(Jane and Drysdale reading):
(Jane reading):
Pinckney, you hop out
and take those signs down.
Miss Hathaway and I will go on
up to the house and pave the way
for you to move back in.
Very good, sir.
(bullet ricochets)
Get your hands up in
the air, you rent-skippin',
chicken-snatchin',
sign-stealin' sidewinder!
Now just a moment, madam!
I said get your hands in the air
and march up to the house!
I refuse to be intimidated.
(gunshot, bullet ricochets)
Oh!
Now march!
Left, left, left, right, left.
Left, left, left, right, left.
He didn't get you did he? No.
No, no, I saw him!
Did you? Yeah, he
tried to take my chicken.
All right, quieten
down, everybody.
Let's get this trial going.
They don't need a trial.
He's a chicken thief.
I caught him red-handed.
Sit down, Granny.
Code of the hills says
everybody gets a fair hearing.
(quietly): This is outrageous
placing me at the mercy
of a kangaroo court.
Relax, here's a
tranquilizer for you.
What's that chicken
thief stealin' now?
He just slipped
something into his pocket.
Granny, stop calling him that.
He ain't guilty till
he's proved guilty.
Yes, sir.
All right, y'all ready
to start this trial?
Yes, sir. Are you
ready, chicken thief?
Sit down.
This may set Anglo-Saxon
jurisprudence back
a thousand years.
Don't worry, Pinckney.
This is all playing
right into our hands.
Wait and see.
All right, let's hear
what all's being held
against this feller.
"It is held against this fellow
"that he skipped
out on his rent,
"stole Elly May's chicken,
"tried to steal Granny's
boardin' house signs
and got 15-year-old
falling-down drunk."
I object!
What 15-year-old?
That there hound dog Duke.
(hiccups)
And pret' near
blowed up my still.
Ran off and left
the fire burnin'.
Too late, Granny,
that ain't wrote down.
It don't count.
Now we heard Granny's side.
Let's hear Mr. Pinckney's side.
Your Honor, Judge Clampett...
Now, Mr. Drysdale, strictly
speaking, I ain't a judge.
I'm just here to see that this
trial is kept fair and square
and to keep Granny from shootin'
that rent-skippin',
sign-stealin' chicken thief.
Your Honor... That
is, Mr. Clampett...
The defendant, Arthur
Pinckney, has decided
to plead guilty as charged.
(all cheering)
Jed, turn him loose.
Give him a 200-foot start.
I'll load my shotgun with
rock salt and bacon rind
and season his
hind quarters for him!
(gavel banging)
Your Honor,
Mr. Clampett, I didn't finish.
As his punishment,
Mr. Pinckney would like to suggest
that he be sentenced
to a week at hard labor
here in your home.
Nothin' doin'!
We don't want his kind around!
Sit down, Granny, that
ain't for you to decide.
I think in fairness,
we ought to remember
the good thing
Mr. Pinckney's done.
Like what?
Well, like bringing us
them fine new clothes.
Probably stole 'em.
May I address the court?
Sure, speak right up.
I would like to say
that I know Mr. Arthur Pinckney
to be a man of good character
and I will vouch for him.
I, too, know Arthur Pinckney,
and he is a man of
unimpeachable integrity,
impeccable demeanor
and irrefutable probity.
Thank you.
Well, that's one
fer and one against.
Sir, Your Honor, may
the defendant speak?
Hop to it.
Sir, I won't go
into all the reasons
why I want to spend a week here,
but suffice it to say there
are a thousand of them.
Keep talking, Mr. Pinckney.
I do hope you say yes, sir.
I can be very useful, really.
I can do the shopping and
the serving and the cleaning
and the tutoring, and
I can be everything
from chef to chauffeur.
It's a deal.
Ah!
Granny, this is what
you call riding in style.
It sure is.
Too bad Jethro and Elly
May couldn't come with us.
Well, quick as we get two
more riding suits like this,
we can all go together.
You look nice, Mr. Pinckney.
Thank you, sir. Where to, sir?
Right down to
the middle of town.
Yeah, Wilshire Boulevard.
Mr. Clampett, sir, may
I ask you a question?
Sure, go right ahead.
Is this the only motor
vehicle you have?
Yep.
Would you like to
have another one, sir?
Oh, I guess not, Mr. Pinckney.
Besides, I don't know
where you'd get
another one like this.
They don't make
cars like this no more.
I'll stake my life
on that, madam.
Mr. Clampett, sir, when we're
going down Wilshire Boulevard,
would you allow me to stop at a
first-class automotive showroom?
What fer?
Well, sir, that's where
the finest machines
are put on display for
people to look at and buy.
I'm sorry, Mr. Pinckney,
but this beauty ain't for sale.
Very good, sir.
I'll tell you someplace you
can stop, the supermarket.
I want to pick up some sowbelly
to go with my dandelion greens
for supper tonight.
Madam, may I do
your shopping for you?
You know good
sowbelly when you see it?
I have something else in mind.
I'd like to prepare for
you a gourmet dinner.
What do you reckon a gourmet is?
I don't know, but if
he fries it good in lard,
I reckon we can eat it.
All right, Mr. Pinckney,
you can cook vittles tonight.
Thank you, sir.
Do Granny good
to get out of the
kitchen for a change.
We shall all profit, sir.
Now make yourselves comfy.
I shall serve the
coffee and the dessert
here in the drawing room.
May I ask how you've
enjoyed the meal so far,
the turtle soup, the
lobster thermidor?
Just dandy.
Best I ever had. Fine.
Finger-lickin' good.
Oh, thank you.
Hope that soup we
throwed out the window
don't kill the flowers.
How could anybody eat
soup made out of turtles?
Pitiful.
And that thing he
called Welsh rabbit
didn't have no
rabbit in it at all.
Just a lot of doggone
melted cheese.
Wasn't too bad after
Granny dumped the grits in it.
What was it he called
that big crawdad?
That was lobster thermidor.
That didn't taste bad neither
once we poured hot
gopher gravy over it.
You don't suppose
Mr. Pinckney caught on, do you?
Shucks, no, he had it pret' near
pitch-dark in there.
Nothing burning but candles.
Shh. Yonder he comes.
The pièce de résistance:
crêpes suzettes.
Nothing but pancakes.
There he goes again.
Sure fond of the dark.
What's he fixin' to do now?
He's lit another fire.
If he ain't careful, he's
gonna burn this house down.
Regular firebug.
If that rascal ever does
any cookin' out in the
woods, he's gonna...
Uh-oh, I was afraid of that.
He set the pancakes on fire!
Don't nobody panic!
There will be a slight
delay in serving the dessert.
(theme song playing)
♪ Well, now it's time
to say good-bye ♪
♪ To Jed and all his kin ♪
♪ And they would
like to thank you folks ♪
♪ Fer kindly droppin' in ♪
♪ You're all invited back
next week to this locality ♪
♪ To have a heapin'
helpin' of their hospitality ♪
♪ Hillbilly, that is ♪
♪ Set a spell ♪
♪ Take your shoes off ♪
♪ Y'all comeback now, y'hear? ♪
This has been a
Filmways Presentation.