The Flintstones (1960–1966): Season 1, Episode 28 - Fred Flintstone: Before and After - full transcript

Used without his consent as the "before" picture in a weight-loss pitch, Fred decides to accept the challenge to lose thirty pounds in thirty days when told of the money that can be his.

I just gotta get some food.

Every nerve in me is yelling
for a brontosaurus burger.

I can't stand it any longer. Al!

I don't care what
you promised Wilma, Al.

I need some food.
AI, just one little brontosaurus burger.

No one will know.
What harm can it do?

Okay, Fred.

Wilma will kill me for this,
but I can't stand to see you suffer.

Bedrock Television Studios, good morning.

I'm sorry, Mr. Slabsides
is busy shooting a commercial.

Will you leave a message, please?



We have one more actor to interview,
Mr. Slabsides.

Okay, run him through.

Next. Step up, please.

No, he won't do it.
Doesn't do a thing for me.

The "after" is perfect,
but the "before" isn't right.

He's the last one, Mr. Slabsides.

There are no more fat "befores."
You've tried 50 of them, sir.

But none of them are right.

They don't create an image.
There's no sponsor identification.

Hey, Slabsides, what's holding up
that reducing commercial?

Hello, B.J. I had a lot of ideas.

I threw them all in the lake
to see if they'd float, but they all sank.

I seem to be stuck
for the right "before" image, B.J.

One that will project
an identifying image for the client.



One that will fire the imagination,
trigger people into taking the course.

The right image...

Shut up. Don't give me all that guff,
I taught it to you.

One fat man,
three days auditioning, big deal.

I'll get the first fat man that comes
along the street and get this thing rolling.

- Yes, sir.
- Image, smimage. All I want is a fat man.

There ought to be one along any minute.

Hey, mister.

- You want something, bud?
- Yes, may I have a word with you, sir?

As long as it don't cost me nothing,
why not?

Is that all you?

That's all me, buster, and it cost me
a lot of money to get it that way.

- How would you like to be on television?
- Television!

Oh, no.
You're the guy with the peekaboo camera.

I've seen your program before, mister.
Where's the microphone?

Where's the camera?
You're clever at hiding everything.

Gee, I never suspected.

Hey, Wilma!
Hey, Barney, Betty! It's me, Fred.

I'm on TV. Look!

I hope I didn't make a fool of myself.

Where's the release? I'll sign it.
Oh, boy, I'm on a peekaboo camera.

Wilma, hey, how do I look?

All right, what's all the fuss about?
What's going on here?

It's all right, Officer.
He's one of our TV actors.

One of them!

Keep him quiet, this is a public street.

I love your program.
You fool even the smartest people like me.

And when do I get the residuals
for the reruns?

Come on, tell me,
where's the camera hidden?

There is no camera.

You aren't on TV at all.

Not on TV?

What's the matter with you?
Are you some kind of a nut or something?

I have a good mind to pop your lip up.

- But I can put you on TV.
- You can?

- Certainly, Mr...
- Flintstone, Fred Flintstone.

Pleased to meet you. I'm B.J.,
President of Bedrock Television Studios.

And you're perfect
for a part I have in mind.

- No kidding?
- No kidding, Mr. Flintstone.

You can be a big man on TV.

I wonder what's keeping Fred.
It's not like him to be late for dinner.

- Hiya, Wilma!
- Fred, where have you been?

Fred, what's the matter?

- Wait till you hear the news, Wilma.
- What news?

Wilma, you are married to a TV star.

I am? Oh, boy! Which one?

Terry Masonite, Rick Masterson, Mavrock?

It doesn't matter, I love them all.

I am talking about me.

You, Fred? A TV star?

Okay, laugh.
But you'll see me on tape at 8:00 tonight...

which is, as we say in the video business,
"prime time."

But, Wilma, Fred wouldn't invite
everybody over to your house tonight...

if he wasn't on TV.

That's what I keep telling myself,
but I'm still not convinced.

Wilma, I don't mean this as it sounds...

but what could Fred do on TV?

I'm sure I don't know.

His big act at parties
is the lampshade-on-his-head routine.

And I don't think television
is that desperate yet.

I don't think so either.

Hiya, girls,
what's the big conference about?

We were trying to figure out
what Fred will be doing on TV.

He wouldn't tell me, Wilma,
but I bet it's the lampshade act.

It always goes over big with the bowling
team, and they'll all be here tonight.

Which reminds me,
I have 50 pizza pies to defrost.

- I'll see you later.
- So long, Wilma.

Yeah, bye.

How about that Fred? What a guy!

Yeah, imagine the captain
of our bowling team a TV star.

Gosh, isn't this exciting?
Everyone we know is here.

Yeah. Fred even invited people
he's been mad at for years.

Hey, Barney, where's Fred?
I want to get his autograph.

Greetings, everybody!

That Fred!
He's got a lampshade on his head.

Fred, take it off. You look silly.

That's the old warm-up,
as we call it in TV land, Wilma.

It's the old corn, we call it around here.

Oh, boy, women just don't dig funny gags.

- Hey, when does the show start, Fred?
- In about one minute.

Now quiet, everybody.
No talking while the program's on.

If you have to cough, go outside.

There, it will take a minute
for the set to warm up.

Hey, I bet Flintstone's a riot.

I'm so nervous,
I could jump out of my skin.

Quiet, here it comes.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
Welcome to The Happy Hour.

Sixty minutes of spine-tingling suspense...

guaranteed to keep you
on the edge of your seat.

But first,
a brief message from our sponsor:

Before taking the Fat Off Reducing
Method, you could look like this man:

All lard.

After the Fat Off Method,
you could have a physique like this man.

Notice the difference.

"Before" is soft, flabby, a mess.

While "after" is handsome, rugged, trim,
fit as a fiddle.

So, don't be a flabby "before, "
when you can be a muscular "after.

with the Fat Off Reducing Method.
And now, The Happy Hour.

That's it, folks, how did you like it?

Hey, where did everybody go?

They all went home, Fred.
They were ashamed for you.

Ashamed for me? I don't get it.
I thought I looked pretty good.

It would be different
if I was that fat "before" guy...

but as the "after" guy,
I thought I shaped up great.

Fred Flintstone,
you were the "before" guy.

- After!
- Before!

All right, hold it.
We'll let Betty and Barney decide.

Now, was I the fat, lardy "before"...

or was I the muscular, handsome "after 7

Take your time, think it over. Well?

- You were the fat, lardy "before," Fred.
- That's right, the soft, flabby one.

How about that.

Not only are they false friends,
but they both need glasses.

They are not false friends, and you're the
one who needs glasses, Fred Flintstone.

Come to think of it,
I think I was standing on the "before" side.

But you know what they say, television
adds 10 pounds to your appearance.

Eating like a horse
has added 50 pounds to yours.

And first thing in the morning...

we're going downtown and have
that insulting commercial stopped.

When we get there, Fred,
you keep quiet, I'll do the talking.

- Okay, Wilma.
- I'll give that B.J. a piece of my mind.

And another thing, you old goat...

if that commercial
isn't taken off the air immediately...

I'll sue you, report you to the FCC,
and slap your face.

Now, calm yourself, Mrs. Flintstone.

Of course we'll take it off the air
if you insist.

But it's a shame,
your husband was a big success.

- What do you mean?
- We've had a lot of calls about the method.

And nobody wants to look
like your husband.

Watch it, buddy!

Yeah, watch it, buddy.

Anyway, get yourself another fat man.

My husband is going on a diet
to lose weight.

Lose weight? Say, that's a great idea.

Tell you what I'll do.

If Mr. Flintstone will lose 25 pounds...

we will pay him $1,000.

$1,000? Why?

Don't you get it? We can show
how much better anyone can look...

by taking off 25 pounds
and feel better, too. Is it a deal?

1,000 smackeroos! Boy, you got a deal!

Good, we'll start the campaign rolling...

with the weigh-in tonight on TV,
coast to coast.

Do you think
Fred can really lose 25 pounds, Wilma?

If he sticks to the diet
the doctor put him on, he can.

But Fred's appetite.
He's always eating snacks.

Fred's got an appetite for money, too.

It's going to be a battle between the
snackeroos and the smackeroos, Wilma.

That's the lineup, Barney.

Turn the TV on,
it's time for The Happy Hour.

Right, Wilma.

Good evening, friends.
Welcome to The Happy Hour.

Tonight we bring you
the start of a very unusual contest.

The Fat Off Reducing Method...

is so sure you can look better
by being slim...

that we are going to pay
an overweight person $1,000...

if he will lose 25 pounds in one month.

And here is our contestant,
Fred Flintstone.

Hi, all my friends out there in TV land...

especially my dear wife, Wilma...

and my dear neighbors,
Barney and Betty Rubble.

And all the gang
down at the Bedrock Bowling Alley.

Mr. Flintstone.

I also want to say hello
to my fellow members...

at the Pebble Street Snooker Society,
and to all the boys...

Mr. Flints tone, please.

We're only on the air for one hour.

And now for the weigh-in...

supervised by an official from the
Bureau of Weights and Measures.

225 pounds.

There it is, Mr. Flintstone.

$1,000 is yours...

if you lose 25 pounds in one month.

Good luck, Fat Freddie.

Fat Freddie! That's a hot one.

First day of the big diet, Fat Freddie?

Yeah, Barney. It's do or diet, get it?

- It's going to be tough on you.
- Tough on me, why?

You sure like
to store the groceries away, Fred.

You forget I got will power, Barney.

If I set out to do a thing,
I see that it gets done.

And I'm going to stick to my diet
and win that money.

I hope so, Fred.

Some guys are slaves to food.
Not me, I'm its master.

That's right, I've seen you master
some pretty big meals.

Here's my corner, Fred.
I'll see you tonight.

Right, Barney.

According to my intuition,
it should go off about now.

Lunchtime!

- Hello, Fred!
- Hi, Charlie!

Saw you on TV last night.
Think you'll win the $1,000?

Sure, it's a cinch.

I don't know, Fred,
you like food too much.

When a guy puts food before
everything else, he just can't lose weight.

It all boils down to calories, Fred.
The more calories, the more weight.

- Periscope.
- I know, a submarine sandwich.

Celery!

Oh, boy!

Everybody gets to eat, and I get celery.

Sorry, Charlie. Sighted sub, sank same.

It's been a week
since Fred started Operation Diet.

What has he lost so far?

So far, all he's lost is his temper,
not one ounce of weight.

- Maybe he's raiding the icebox.
- He promised me he wouldn't, Barney.

Besides, I've got it hooked up
to an alarm device.

If he opens the door, I'd know it.

- Good grief, what's that?
- The icebox.

- Wilma!
- Yes, Fred.

Booby-trapping the ice box
was a low-down, despicable trick.

Fine thing when a wife doesn't trust
her husband.

Good, she's asleep. Now is my chance.

She's probably still got that alarm on.

Hey, Barney's icebox.

And they're both sound sleepers, too.

Wilma thinks she's so smart...

but I happen to be a little smarter.

Wilma asked us to hook up that trap
as a favor to you, Fred.

I'm sorry about last night, Fred, but
we're trying to help you win that $1,000.

I know, Barney,
but I just can't keep away from food.

When I count sheep at night
to help me go to sleep...

the sheep all turn into lamb chops.

The whole town will be laughing at me
if I don't take off 25 pounds.

It's no use trying to
do it by yourself, Fred.

You need help from F.A.

And who is F.A.?

Not who, Fred, what.
F.A. stands for Food Anonymous.

- Food Anonymous?
- That's right, Fred.

It's a bunch of guys
who have kicked the overeating habit.

You think they could help me?

Sure, they're a swell bunch of guys,
and they all help each other.

Like, supposing you wanted to get
some candy from a machine.

Yeah?

Just as you tried to put the coin
in the slot...

a Food Anonymous member
would take it away from you.

Gee, that's the kind of help I need.
Come on, let's go see them.

Dear fellow members of Food Anonymous,
we have with us today...

another unfortunate man with a problem.
He needs help.

And I've told him first he must face up to
the fact that he is an eater.

I thought that some of us could tell him
of the problems we've had...

and how we overcame them.

Yes, Frank.

I used to be on a pizza pie kick.

In between meals I'd eat pizza pie.

I used to hide them
in the glove compartment of my car...

in my locker at the shop.

I couldn't sleep nights.

I'd get out of bed and drive around...

looking for an all-night pizza pie stand.

But when I joined Food Anonymous,
it all stopped.

With the help of you fellows...

pizza pies mean nothing to me now.

Thanks for letting me join, fellows.
I'll do my best to make good.

You won't be alone in your fight, Fred,
we'll all be helping you.

And you'll be able to recognize
fellow members by this sign.

Hey, I like that.

How has Fred been doing
with his reducing diet, Wilma?

There's only one more week left.

I think he's taken some weight off...

but he's so grouchy,
I can't find out for sure.

I feel sorry for Fred.
He likes his food so much.

- Oh, goodness.
- What's wrong, Wilma?

The wax fruit has disappeared.

- Fred?
- Who else?

But I'm not worried,
there are no calories in wax fruit.

- Where is the old dear now, Wilma?
- He's outside, playing with Dino.

Nice Dino.

Let Fred just look at what you got
in the dish.

Come on now,
I'm the guy who bought it for you.

You're supposed to be man's best friend.

And best friend, I am taking that bone.

- What was that?
- Fred must be at Dino's food again.

But Dino's smart, he buries his bone
at night when Fred's asleep.

I just gotta get some food.

Every nerve in me is yelling
for a brontosaurus burger.

I can't stand it any longer. Al!

I don't care what
you promised Wilma, Al.

I need some food.
AI, just one little brontosaurus burger.

No one will know. What harm can it do?

Okay, Fred.

Wilma will kill me for this,
but I can't stand to see you suffer.

Thanks, Al.
You're a real good guy.

That's it, put everything on it.
Don't hold back anything.

More relish. More.

And the pickles, don't forget the pickles.

Here you are, Fred.

Hey, what's the big idea?
Give me back that burger.

Food Anonymous.
I forgot about those guys.

Okay, it's war. A battle of wits.

Wilma has everyone in town
refusing to sell me food.

The Food Anonymous spies are after me,
but I'll beat them.

I'll beat them at their own game.

No one can outfox Fred Flintstone.

Poor Fred, he's cracking.

That's it. I'll fool them all.

And with this hat on, I guarantee
your own mother won't recognize you.

Good!

Now I can go any place in town and eat.

Hiya, Fred!

Hi, Mr. Flintstone. Back so soon?

How was the party?

What's the matter, a cat got your tongue?

Brother Flintstone has given us
quite a tussle, but we're winning.

He isn't getting any extra food...

but he's going to get desperate
these last few days, so keep on him.

Don't let him down.

Hey, come back here with that pie.
Somebody stop him.

Call the police, quick!

I got it!

Food!

I got food!

Tonight's the big night, Wilma.

- Did Fred lose enough weight?
- I don't know, Betty.

He's been so mean and irritable...

he hasn't spoken to me
for the last two weeks.

All he does is growl.

We'll soon find out.

Barney's waiting to drive us
to the TV station, so we'd better hurry.

Come on, Fred, we're leaving now.

Come on, Fred, cheer up.
You can eat all you want after the show.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

This is the night Fred Flintstone returns...

to see if he collects $1,000...

for losing 25 pounds.

Will you step on the scale,
Mr. Flintstone, please?

Good luck, Fred.

Our official is now ready
to check the weight.

And it's...

200 pounds on the nose.

He won!

I knew you could do it, Freddie-boy.

Thank goodness it's all over.

Now Fred can eat his way back
to being a nice guy again.

Here you are, Mr. Flintstone.

Now will you say a few words
to the TV audience?

I can't, I got an important call to make.

Hello, Food Anonymous?
Fred Flintstone speaking.

Thanks for the help,
but I can't take it, I am resigning.

Yup, that's right, I'm a weakling.
I'm a weakling's weakling.

I am a weakling because I need food,
lots of food.

Goodbye.

Hey. gang.
I just resigned from Food Anonymous...

and boy, are we going to tie one on,
feedbag that is.

Fred's his old self again,
isn't it wonderful?

Okay, I officially declare my diet ended.

Let's eat.

Oh, boy, this stuffed pterodactyl
is going to taste good.

Oh, no!

Call the office.
They'll tell you I resigned.

Don't take my word for it, call the office.

Give me back my dinner.
I resigned, I tell you.

I resigned!

It looks like Fred's still on a diet,
whether he likes it or not.

Come on, Wilma, open the door!

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