The Golden Girls (1985–1992): Season 1, Episode 15 - In a Bed of Rose's - full transcript

After Rose's boyfriend Al dies of a heart attack in her bed, Rose fears that she is a death jinx in the bedroom because her beloved husband Charlie died of a heart attack in her bed as well. To make matters worse, after Rose tracks down Al's sister to notify her of his death, she comes to find that his "sister" is really in fact his wife!

♪ Thank you for being a friend

♪ Traveled down the
road and back again

♪ Your heart is true

♪ You're a pal and a confidante

♪ And if you threw a party

♪ Invited everyone you knew

♪ You would see the
biggest gift would be from me

♪ And the card
attached would say

♪ "Thank you for
being a friend" ♪

Well, here we are.

Rose... please.



I can't, Al.

We've been seeing each
other for a month, Rose.

I've never wanted
anyone so much.

What about your place?

My sister's there.

She's an insomniac.
We'd have an audience.

Well, I can't let you
stay here, I just can't.

Well, I simply can't
take you to a hotel.

It just cheapens it.

I guess we're doomed.

Let's talk inside.

The thing is, I've never done
this before, bring someone home.

I understand.

Are you quiet?



I'm whispering.

I don't mean now.

I mean then.

Oh, very quiet. I'm very quiet.

I don't scream, I don't
shout, very quiet person.

I even wear quiet
clothes, all solids.

I'm quiet, too.

Then we'll be fine!

I don't want the others
to know you're here.

They'll never know.

In the morning, we're
getting up early to play golf.

You can leave
while they're gone.

Great.

They won't know?

Never.

OK, but quiet.

Like a mouse.

Good morning.

Oh, boy, that must have been some
dream you were having last night.

What are you talking about?

I never heard such a racket.

I thought you were
making love. Ha-ha.

No, no, I wasn't, no.

It was a nightmare, an
awful nightmare. Just terrible.

Isn't it interesting how
the sounds are the same

for awful nightmares
and great sex?

Really? I wouldn't know.

Oh, Dorothy, come on.

Shouldn't we get going, girls?

When you're making
love, you don't make noise?

No. How can you not?

Well, I guess I always
felt it wasn't very ladylike.

We should go, girls.

Hold your bladder, Rose.

Not a sound?

Well, it never seemed
to warrant one.

Do you talk?

I've always wanted
to, but at that point,

it seems that nobody is ever
interested in conversation.

Not conversation.
I mean... dirty talk.

Dirty talk?

Well, not filth, for God's sake!

Dirty talk?

Morning, Sophia.

Morning, Ma. Morning, Sophia.

Dirty talk? Later.

There's a man in your bed.

Oh, Sophia, there's not.

Why, you devil, you.

So that was what we heard, Rose!

Rose got lucky.

Not so lucky. The man
in your bed is dead.

What?

Dead.

Oh, Sophia. He's not
dead. I was just in there.

So was I. I went to
put back your laundry,

and I see there's
a man in the bed,

so I introduce myself,
but he doesn't answer.

He's dead.

He's shy. He's very shy.

Didn't sound so shy last night.

OK, fine. Let a
dead guy lie there.

It's gonna be 98 degrees
today. It won't be pretty.

Oh, I'm sure he's not
dead. Rose, go look.

Come on, he's sleeping.
I don't want to wake him.

You could light firecrackers in
his nostrils. You won't wake him.

All right, now, Rose, go on.

I don't want dead
people in my house.

People? We are
talking about one man,

who is probably sleeping.

You don't think I
can recognize death?

I lived in a retirement home.

Death visited more
often than children.

Rose, go on.

Well, I can't.

Why?

I'm afraid. You go.

Oh, no. I can't go in there.

I have a thing
against dead people.

I've never seen
one, I never intend to.

Didn't you see your
husband when he was dead?

Oh, no! I cannot
look at dead people.

That's why I don't
even watch the news.

Every now and then, they
stick a corpse in on you.

You could be watching a perfectly
lovely little story about Central America.

All of a sudden,
bam, a dead body!

This is ridiculous.

Here we sit, calmly
eating our bran flakes,

when there could be a
dead man in the house. I'll go.

She's very brave.

Boy, I'll say.

I want someone to come with me.

I'll go, I'll go. I'm from
Sicily. What's the big deal?

He's not dead.

But he'll wish he was when
those two barge in on him.

Who is he?

His name is Al.

No. I mean what's he do?

He imports diamonds.

Oh, damn, I hope he's not dead.

He bought the farm.

What farm?

Rose, he's dead.

No.

Yes.

Oh, my, God, the poor man.

And with a new
farm and everything.

Honey, I'm sorry.

When did he die?

I wasn't there, Rose. You were.

You mean I slept with
a dead man last night?

Honey, I sleep
with 'em all the time.

He was so quiet, I just
thought he was a sound sleeper.

What'll we do?

We call the police.

I didn't murder him!

Of course you didn't
murder him, honey.

He probably had a heart attack.

Now look, his family has to be notified.
Now, did he ever speak of any family?

He had a sister he lives with.

Yeah, what's her name?

His name was Al Beatty.
Her name's Beatty, too.

She never married. I
suppose I have to tell her.

Oh, yes, you do. You
cannot let the police tell her.

The night George died,

my telephone rang and
a highway patrolman said,

"Pardon me, ma'am. Do you have a yellow
convertible and a husband named George?"

I said, "Yes, of course.
Good grief, what's happened?"

And he said, "Hold on, ma'am."

Put me on hold, with
that music while you wait.

I sat there at 2:00
in the morning

listening to Herb Alpert
and the Tijuana Brass.

And then, after an eternity,

he comes back on
the line, eating chips.

And he says, "Oh, I'm sorry,
ma'am, but I'm the only one here.

My phone's been
ringing off the hook."

I said, "Officer, what
about my husband?"

And then he said,
crunching his chips,

"Oh, he's dead.

Wrong-way driver hit him head on.
Totally dead, ma'am." Crunch-crunch.

Oh, no!

Puts me on hold
and then eats Doritos

while he tells
me my life is over.

Oh, Rose has to tell
her. Rose won't eat chips.

I never eat chips.
I don't like 'em.

They fall in my bra.

Well, honey,
you've got to do it.

His sister lives in Boca Raton.

I'll look it up.

Oh, thank... I
can't sleep in a bed

that's had a dead
person in it! I just can't!

You'll get a new bed.

And sheets. And sheets.

And a blanket.

Burn down the house.

Oh, poor Al. And he
just got a hair transplant.

Here's a Beatty in Boca
Raton. It's the only one.

And somebody told me
he just bought a farm.

Oh, my God.
What'll I say to her?

That he died in
the bed of an idiot.

Ma! You tell the truth.

I can't tell her the truth. I
can't tell her where he died.

He died visiting.
That's what you tell her.

Visiting. Right.

Visiting, that's good.

Oh, I just can't
believe he's dead!

I don't think she's home.

It rang once!

Hello? Is this Miss Beatty?

I beg your pardon?

Well, do you have a brother Al?

I see.

Well, I must have the
wrong number. I'm sorry.

Wrong number?

Right number, wrong person.

What do you mean?

That wasn't his sister.
That was his wife.

He was married.

I can't believe it.

There's a married
dead man in my bed!

Serves him right.

Ma!

He lied to her.

I don't know why they do that.

Don't they know we'll
sleep with 'em anyway?

Well, what am I gonna do?

I can't tell her her
husband died in my bed!

Tell her you went to
turn on the sprinklers,

and you found him on the lawn.

That's not bad.

Oh, Rose.

Well, I've never
had to do this before,

tell a wife that her husband's
been cheating on her with me.

That's the hardest thing
ever to have to tell anybody.

Oh, no, it's not.

How about having to
tell a pregnant woman

that her husband's
been cheating on her...

with her own sister?

And you're the sister,

and you're pregnant,
too, by her husband.

You didn't.

Not me! Last night on Dallas!

Or Dynasty or Falcon's
Landing or one of those.

They're all the same.

Oh, I thought you were the one.

Oh, please. I could
never do anything like that.

If you saw my brother-in-law,
you'd know why.

Look, Rose, you're
gonna have to go tell her.

She's probably
worried sick already.

But I've never done
anything like this,

tell a woman her
husband's been seeing me.

And she'll say, "Why,
that dirty rat. I will kill him."

You say, "Good news, darlin'.
You don't have to. He's dead."

Hello. I'm Rose Nylund.

I'll save you some time.

I don't wear Avon, I have a mop,

and I'm still paying for an
encyclopedia that my son used just once

to look up Sexual
Genitalia, Female.

Mrs. Beatty, it's not that.
It's about your husband.

He dumped you.

You've been dating
him and he dumped you,

and now you're getting
even by telling me.

No, that's not...

I've heard this before, I
can't tell you how many times.

You have?

You think you're
the first? Please.

The first time

Al slept with someone
else was on our honeymoon.

No!

In Paris. The chambermaid.

He always had the
sign on the door...

"Maid service requested."

He slept with everyone.

Secretaries, schoolteachers,

baby-sitters,
neighbors, friends.

Oh, one Easter, we gave
our little boy some rabbits.

They used to look
at Al in amazement.

How long had you
been seeing him?

About a month. But
that's not why I'm here.

I have bad news.

Well, you couldn't be pregnant.

Uh, last night, Al had
a heart attack and died.

Oh, Mrs. Beatty, I'm
so very, very sorry.

Well, you must
have the wrong Al.

You've been sleeping
with someone else's Al.

My Al is as healthy as
a horse. It can't be him!

Al Beatty from Boca Raton?

Yes.

You're telling me Al is dead?

Yes.

A heart attack is crazy.

He was a runner. He
couldn't have a heart attack.

I'm talking so it can't be
true. You know what I mean?

If I keep talking,
it isn't true.

All I have to do
is talk forever.

Oh, God, Al.

I'm all right. I'm OK.

Al, the big jerk.

I loved him.

He was a decent man, you know?

I know.

He was.

Caring.

Very.

Special.

And it's all my fault!

He had a heart attack.
It's not your fault.

He had a heart attack with me.

Mrs. Beatty, my late husband
had a heart attack with me as well.

They drop like flies around me!

Mrs. Nylund,

you're not responsible for
the death of my husband.

I'll never date again.

You will.

I won't! I can't!

In time, you'll forget this.

Never!

I promise you.

It's OK. I'll get
used to being alone.

Mrs. Nylund.

Yes?

You've been sleeping with
my husband, and he's died.

See if you can pull
yourself together,

because in a minute, I'm going
to need some comforting myself!

Dorothy, try this dressing
and tell me what you think.

It's called Creamy Zesty
Italian. Only has one calorie.

Mmm. If you ran it under the
faucet, it would have more flavor.

Shoot.

Honey, beware of anyone who says,
"No calories," "Absolutely no charge,"

and, "Let's just lie down on
the bed and watch television."

Hi. Did you do it?

Yep. And?

I'm gonna become a nun.

I'm the kiss of death.

It's the second time a
man has died in my bed.

The second time?

Dorothy knows.

Charlie.

No! Yes.

What exactly do
you do in bed, Rose?

Nothing. I do nothing.

Well, maybe that's it...
they have to do it all.

Come on, Blanche.
It's not her fault.

She has a perfectly
normal sex life.

Now, I knew somebody
who had seven husbands,

and six of them died
of stomach ailments.

Well, they arrested her. She'd been
putting ground glass in their salads.

Why?

Because she ran out of croutons!

Because she wanted
to kill them, Rose.

We had a neighbor in
Minnesota who killed her husband.

She backed over
him with a combine,

and she didn't even
know she had done it

until she found little
bits of plaid in the corn.

She said, "Funny, that looks
like bits of Joe's plaid shirt.

"And that looks like
bits of Joe's overalls.

"And that looks like
bits of Joe's arms.

That looks like..."

Rose! We get the picture.

They had a very
little coffin... Ah!

Listen, Rose, you are not to
blame. Now, you know that.

Of course I know that.

She was driving the combine.

I wasn't anywhere
near their farm!

Come on, Rose, it'll be
fun. You like square dancing.

No, thanks.

Oh, Rose, you're only
gonna be dancing with men.

You can't kill
'em by doing that.

Nope. No more
men. That's it for me.

No more men. My God, I
would die. I would just die.

It's not like no
more food, Blanche.

It's worse.

There are many women who
live happy lives without men.

Oh, who?

Well, Inga Lundqvist.

Who was she, some
Swedish lesbian?

She was a neighbor of ours.

Not by chance the one who shredded
her husband with some farm machinery?

Yes! And she never remarried.

And she led a very
happy rest of her life

baking, sewing, gardening,
tending the animals.

Ooh, my favorite things.

OK, let's get the
show on the road!

Rose, you sure you don't
want to come and just watch?

Come on, Rose. You'll sit and
watch my dentures eat corn on the cob.

It's a lot of laughs!

No, I don't want
to kill anyone else.

Honey, you sure you're
gonna be all right here alone?

She'll be fine. If someone breaks
in, she'll just have to sleep with them.

Who is it?

Mrs. Beatty.

Oh, Mrs. Beatty, come in.

I just had to come by.

You were so caring to come
tell me in person what happened

that I had to do
something for you.

Oh, that wasn't necessary.

Well, I know you blame
yourself for Al's death.

Well, I just got
the autopsy results,

and they showed
that Al's arteries

were completely clogged.

Oh, his diet was terrible.

He never ate a vegetable,
he lived on fatty foods.

He'd have meat for dessert.

You didn't kill
him, Mrs. Nylund.

He killed himself.

He committed suicide?

In a manner of speaking.

He'd have died whether
he'd been here or not.

I'm so glad, not that he's dead.

I know. I just had to tell you

you had nothing to do with it.

Thank you.

And if he had to die,

I'm glad he didn't die
alone on the street,

but here, with a caring person,
doing what he liked to do best.

Ma! What?

Will you stop telling
her what to play!

I'm not saying a word.
Did I speak, Blanche?

Not a word.

You keep shaking your head!

I've been holding
it up for 80 years.

You'd shake, too.

Well, what do you think?

Of what, honey?

My new dress.

Oh, is that new? Yes.

It's sort of old-fashioned
looking. I wasn't sure it was new.

Oh, that's the style.
The girl told me.

What was she, a pilgrim?

Come on, Blanche.

You look wonderful,
Rose, absolutely lovely.

Well, I suppose I should go.

I haven't had a
date in three months.

But I just don't
know what to do.

I adore Arnie. He's the sweetest
man in the world and very special to me,

And it'll be hard
not to, you know,

because I like him so much

and since we're going away for the
weekend and since we already have,

if I don't, then he'll think
I don't like him anymore,

and I do, so maybe I will,
but I don't know. I might not.

Rose!

Rose, honey, you know

you were not
responsible for Al's death,

so why don't you go
on, have a good time,

and whatever happens, happens.

I know Al had bad arteries,

but still, I can't
be totally sure.

Come on now, Rose.

You do what makes
you comfortable

and don't worry
about anything else.

OK.

Well, I'm off.

Totally!

I wonder where she is.
She's almost two hours late.

Oh, they probably had
traffic. I bet she slept with him.

I wouldn't be
surprised if she didn't.

Well, I sure couldn't be with
a man I liked and abstain.

You know, I abstained
after Stan and I split up,

but it wasn't a very
different experience

from when Stan
and I were together.

Oh, here she is.

Well? What happened? How
was it? What? What, what, what?

You had a terrible time?

You had a wonderful time?

Honey, tell us what happened!

Arnie. I slept with him.

And?

He died.

What?

Oh, no, Rose.

And the sheriff, I told him
about me, how I kill men.

And he didn't believe me!

He said, "Let's
see. Sleep with me."

So I did.

And the sheriff died.

Arnie's fine! We
had a wonderful time.

Everything's terrific.
I was only joking!

You what?

It was a joke! A joke?

That's a terrible joke!

Awful!

You can't joke
about a thing like that!

My God, Rose!

Well, I'm sorry.

I believed her.

I was set to go to her hanging.

Some joke.

I thought it was funny.