The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (1964–1968): Season 3, Episode 30 - The Cap and Gown Affair - full transcript
Alexander Waverly is scheduled to receive an honorary degree at his alma mater, Blair University. UNCLE is on guard to protect Waverly against an assassination attempt by Thrush.
Williams to Solo. Do you read me?
Loud and clear. Go ahead.
38th Street clear
as far as Eighth Avenue.
Repeat. No sign of possible Thrush activity
as far as Eighth Avenue.
Roget. Ova! and out. “Na?
[OVER RADIO]
Williams reports 38th Street clear.
- Nat a Thrushie in sight.
- I wouldn't bet on it.
How soon before we reach
the rendezvous point?
In about six minutes, we should, uh...
Wail a second. Hang on. “Na.
- Solo here.
- I'm at Checkpoint David.
- All clear as far as Madison.
- Roger.
Helicopter 490 has made a thorough check
of Zone G, as in “George.“
No foreseeable problems.
Did you hear that, IIIya?
I heard, but I'm still dubious.
WAVERLY:
Yes, I've already paid my compliments...
...to the people in Section Five.
That dummy they made
is astonishingly like me.
So much so that I'm rather glad now
Thrush didn't manage to destroy it.
It might be a good idea to cancel
all public appearances for a while, sir.
Well, perhaps so, Mr. Solo.
But there's one
that I can't possibly avoid.
Nor do I wish to do so.
Blair University.
My alma mater.
And certainly, Thrush isn't gonna prevent
me from getting that honorary degree.
I'm quite certain that Thrush
will do their best...
...to make sure the award is posthumous.
I was rather hoping
that you and Mr. Kuryakin...
...would do your best to see that it isn't.
IIIya's already there, uh.
scouting the terrain. I'll join him tomorrow.
Good.
Oh, and Mr. Solo...
Mr. Solo,
Blair is a coeducation institution...
...so try to curb your
predatory instincts, will you?
Yes, sir.
[STUDENTS CHATTERING]
MAN [OVER SPEAKER]: Attention all students.
There will be
a mammoth protest meeting...
...in front of Felton Hall today at 4 p.m.
All students are invited.
I repeat, all students are invited.
Volunteers, please report
to protest headquarters.
Attention all students.
And I mean all students.
Come to the mammoth protest meeting
in front of Felton Ha"...
Uh, excuse me.
How does one go about joining the group?
- You wanna protest?
- Very much.
What are we protesting?
MINERVA:
That.
ILLYA:
Oh, I'm with you.
I haven't seen you before.
I'm Minerva Dwight.
Uh, IIIya Kuryakin.
You new left or old left?
Well, I favor
the moderately conservative left...
...slightly to the right of Rasputin.
Who decided on the demonstration?
- That was Gregory's idea.
Gregory?
Gregory Haymish, our off-campus agitator.
Every group has one, you know.
Yes, I know. Uh, is he here?
No, but he'll be at the demonstration.
I see. Uh, may I?
MINERVA:
Thank you.
Don't mention it.
[JEERING]
Beautiful. Beautiful.
Greg, IIIya's just joined the group.
HAYMISH: Welcome.
Welcome to the way-outs, big daddy.
[SHOUTS]
All right, group, I wanna hear rebellion!
[STUDENTS YELLING]
ILLYA:
What's the matter?
I don't want Daddy to see me.
Daddy?
This is Dean Dwight.
May I have your attention, please?
Quiet, everybody.
This demonstration
is in violation of university rules.
Please disperse immediately.
Unless you disperse immediately...
...I shall order the campus police
to take appropriate measures.
This is your last chance.
Unless you disperse immediately,
you will all be arrested.
Everybody down.
MINERVA:
Come on. What are you waiting for?
All right, officers, do your duty.
[STUDENTS LAUGHING]
You're not supposed to cooperate.
- Not even a little?
- Absolutely not.
HAYMISH:
Police brutality!
[STUDENTS JEERING]
[GROOVY MUSIC PLAYING]
Hi. I have an appointment
with Dean Dwight.
You'll have to wait your tum.
SOLO:
I beg your pardon.
No offense...
...but I have an appointment too,
and I'm next, heh.
Right behind Mr. Trumbull.
- Who's he?
- He's the head of the board of regents.
And he's in there right now.
The arrests were entirely unnecessary,
Dean Dwight.
Entirely unnecessary.
Think of the publicity.
But the university rules
specifically forbid such demonstrations.
What do I care about university rules?
Oh, the papers will have
a field day on this one.
Besides, students have been
staging demonstrations all year...
...and you haven't had them arrested.
Why now?
I've been patient with them until now,
but patience has its limits.
Indeed it does.
And my patience with you
is fast reaching those limits.
He actually wanted me
to cut open a frog.
Ugh! Can you imagine?
Unbelievable.
Well, I walked out on the course
and never came back.
And then there was French history.
All those kings,
and every one of them a Louis.
[SOLO CHUCKLES]
Heh, you'd have to be a census take!
to keep them straight.
So I flunked out on that course too.
I was never very good at history myself,
Miss, uh...?
- Darling.
- What?
Uh, Patricia Darling.
SOLO:
Mm.
How many courses are you flunking?
FI--? Uh, well, I...
I can't tell yet.
TRUMBULL:
Just remember.
I hold you personally responsible for any
bad publicity attached to this incident.
SOLO:
How do you do? I'm Napoleon Solo.
I have an appointment with Dean Dwight.
Oh, I'm Dwight.
This is, uh, Mr. Jonathan Trumbull,
chairman of our board of regents.
- How are you?
- We just did that.
DWIGHT:
Well, uh, heh...
PATRICIA:
Dean Dwight?
Oh, not again, Patricia.
I'm sorry, Dean Dwight.
- What is it this time, frogs 01 Louis?
- Both.
I'll talk to you later.
Alex Waverly called to tell me
you would be arriving, Mr. Solo.
I trust you have everything well in hand.
Far from it, Mr. Solo. Far from it.
I realized a demonstration at the ceremony
would make security more difficult...
...so I decided to put a stop
to all demonstrations.
I had the main group
of picketers arrested.
Now Trumbull threatens to have me
removed unless I drop the charges.
I think we can handle
the demonstrators, sir.
A matter of principle, Mr. Solo.
A matter of principle.
I will not back down.
[RADIO BEEPING]
Excuse me.
“Na?
[GROOVY MUSIC PLAYING]
Are we allowed to put bail
on our expense accounts?
I gather you're in durance vile.
I am indeed.
SOLO: You seem to have
an affinity for those places.
It was in the line of duty. Would you
please come down and get me out of here?
Me too. Me too.
[OVER RADIO]
Me tau.
That's Minerva. What's she doing there?
I beg your pardon.
DWIGHT:
Minerva Dwight. That's my daughter.
She's there, isn't she?
I'm afraid so, sir.
We'll get you out shortly, IIIya.
Meanwhile, just relax and enjoy the music.
DWIGHT:
It's too much.
First this assassination business,
and now my own daughter arrested.
Well, I'm sorry about that, Mr. Dwight.
It's not your fault, Mr. Solo.
It's just that the year's been so had already.
The free-speech riots last fall...
...the basketball scandal this spring,
and now this.
It's too much for one man. It's...
...just too much.
TRUMBULL:
I'm sure he's an U.N.C.L.E. agent.
Then there are probably more.
U.N.C.L.E. agents tend to hunt in packs.
TRUMBULL:
I say kill him.
Well, I wasn't suggesting
we give him a party, Trumbull.
Merely that we wait until
he contacts some of his associates.
Learn to kill efficiently, Trumbull.
You'll save yourself
a great deal of time and trouble.
I can't stand waiting.
It makes me nervous.
Everything makes you nervous, Trumbull.
[GROOVY MUSIC PLAYING]
It's all right, you're free to go.
The charges have been dismissed.
HAYMISH:
Everybody down.
MINERVA:
IIIya.
What are you doing?
We can't knuckle under
to the establishment now.
We must stand our ground.
Here we are and here we stay.
We shall not be moved.
GUARD:
Jackson! Barnes!
[CHEERING]
Cossacks!
We have called the dean's bluff and won!
[GROOVY MUSIC PLAYING]
Now he wouldn't dare try to stop us
from putting on our demonstration...
...at the graduation.
When Waverly begins his speech,
we all grab our signs...
...and march right down to the podium!
[ALL CHEER]
ILLYA: Uh, do we have to march
down to the podium?
Couldn't we just, uh.
hold them up at the back?
Oh, that would be the nice,
middle-class way of doing it.
- Are we middle-class?
CROWD: No!
Then we march
right down to the podium!
CROWD:
Yeah!
Turned up anything, hmm?
I'm not sure.
This is our big chance...
...to hit the establishment where it hurts.
So let's make the most of it.
[TELEPHONE RINGING]
I'll get it.
I think this, uh, demonstration
is a little too convenient.
I smell Thrush, maybe, huh?
ILLYA:
So do I, but I don't know who.
Uh, just a minute.
Greg, it's for you.
SOLO:
What about him, baby?
Hello?
ILLYA:
He's just a misguided extremist.
Hmm. A Thrush extremist, maybe, huh?
Maybe.
Yes, he's here now...
...and he's talking to the blond-headed kid
that joined the group this morning.
Yeah. Well, I figured
he was an U.N.C.L.E. agent.
Beautiful. All right.
You have the men there...
...and I'll give our two little U.N.C.L.E. mice
a whiff of cheese...
...that will have them scurrying
right into the trap.
HAYMISH: That's all for tonight.
See you tomorrow morning.
CROWD:
Good night. See you later.
IIIya, will I see you tomorrow?
I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.
Dear IIIya,
you're so hopelessly middle-class.
But I like you anyway.
Well, I'm glad.
You know, I'm a biology major.
I'm taking a course in eugenics.
- Well, that's nice.
- Well, don't you think...
...that the improvement of the human race
by selective breeding is important?
- Oh, I do, I do.
- Good.
Because I have a hunch that you and I--
- You and I what?
Just think of the offspring
we could produce.
Why, in three or four generations,
it could be a race of superman.
Almost.
Well, it's a thought-provoking idea...
...but, uh, don't you think
you should finish the course first?
What?
Oh. Well, um...
We'll talk about it tomorrow.
How is it that the clouds
still hang on you?
Hmm? Oh.
You asked me this morning...
...if I remembered any members
of the group acting strangely.
SOLO:
Mm-hm. And have you?
Yeah, well, I seem to recall
a guy named Tony Wills...
...talking to a couple
of very strange cats.
How strange?
The double-breasted types
with bulges right here.
If you wanted to find Tony...
...if you cut straight across the quad...
...right in front of the girls' dorm,
you'll find the student union.
- He'll be there.
- Yeah.
Thank you.
Don't mention it.
[GRUNTING]
- In there.
- That's the girls' dorm.
SOLO:
Is that bad?
J.D.'s from one of those
fraternities again.
That's the third time this week.
They're such ju--
SOLO:
Oh, sorry.
When I was in college,
they used to scream.
Come on.
Juveniles.
ILLYA: Where's the fire door?
PATRICIA: Over there.
MINERVA:
Get the kids.
[GRUNTING]
PATRICIA:
Pillow fight!
GIRL:
Pillow fight!
[GIGGLING]
[SHRIEKING]
GIRL:
Get him!
And I thought you were middle-class.
Well, appearances can be deceptive.
But you must take better care of yourself,
for the sake of our future children.
- Our superman?
- Mm-hm.
Would you rather have
super-boys or super-girls?
Hey, you know, that's the first time
I've gotten any use out of these books.
[GIGGLES]
Well, I don't know about your professors,
but I'd be delighted to give you an A.
In what subject?
Well,uh...
Why don't you try ancient history,
Mr. Solo?
It's what you're about to become.
Excellent timing, gentlemen. Thank you.
Don't celebrate yet, Solo.
There's plenty more where I came from.
I told you.
We should've killed him right away.
Now our whole plan
is knocked into a cocked hat.
I don't see that.
With Haymish in jail,
we can't assassinate Waverly.
“Can't“ is a big word, my good friend.
TRUMBULL:
Of course, we could just shoot him down.
But the idea behind the whole plan...
...was to blame the killing
on the student demonstrators.
There are other ways to kill Waverly...
...and other people to put the blame on...
...so I arranged an alternate method.
Dwight will kill Waverly.
- Who?
- Dean Timothy Dwight.
You must admit,
it's a rather provocative idea.
We haven't been able to find out who's
behind it, but we did get the hatchet men.
Mr. Solo, Thrush has enough hatchet men
to take on the United States Marines.
At least they can't follow
their original plan...
...which was to use a student
demonstration as a smoke screen.
One of their men was to have led
the demonstration and presumably kill you.
WAVERLY: They have as many plans
as they have hatchet men.
They're undoubtedly hatching out
a new one right now.
Alexander, this has gone too far.
The press is having a field day.
Have you seen the headlines?
I'm sorry, Timothy.
I don't mean to cause you embarrassment.
What are the headlines?
Something about a brawl
in a girls' dormitory.
Oh.
Well, with Mr. Solo involved,
I might've known.
Try and be a bit more discreet
in future, Mr. Solo.
Yes, sir.
And please, gentlemen,
leave my daughter out of this.
Since you've arrived, Minerva's
been in jail, she's been in a brawl.
Jonathan Trumbull
has threatened to have me fired.
The students are getting out of hand.
And I think I am on the nerve
of a vergous breakdown.
Must you keep that vaporizer on?
You can smell the fumes
all through the building.
THRUSH AGENT:
It's my sinuses, Trumbull.
Perhaps this makeup
aggravates the condition.
I'm going down to check on preparations
for the graduation ceremony.
I wouldn't wander around if I were you.
THRUSH AGENT [AS DWIGHT]:
Don't worry about me.
A remarkable job.
Truly remarkable.
THRUSH AGENT: You've been
in the sticks too long, Trumbull.
You've forgotten
how we do things in the big city.
[FOOTSTEPS]
SOLO: Dwight was not exactly
brimming over with goodwill.
Would you be?
He might be a little more cooperative,
it he's on the level.
- You think he isn't?
- Consider the facts now.
Thrush knew we'd be here, and Dwight
was the only one who was told about it.
Ah, Mr. Solo.
What do you think of our little campus?
Well, it's, uh, not exactly
a bucolic atmosphere.
Jonathan?
Jonathan?
Jonathan?
[THRUSH AGENT SNIFFING]
Timothy, what's wrong?
It's happened. I've cracked up.
You have? You look all right to me.
I just saw myself, Jonathan.
I just looked into my own face.
It was incredible.
What's wrong with it?
You have a perfectly acceptable face.
Some people might even
consider it handsome.
Yes, but it was on somebody else.
- Your face?
- Yes.
I opened that door and there it was,
my own face.
Through a cloud of swirling mist.
- Swirling mist?
- Yes.
I just saw myself in that room
not 30 seconds ago.
- Inside this room?
- It's empty.
TRUMBULL:
Naturally.
But what's that medicinal smell?
Smell?
[TRUMBULL SNIFFS]
What smell?
First I see things, now I smell things.
Jonathan,
I've finally gone over the edge.
TRUMBULL:
I wouldn't worry about it, Timothy.
It's been a difficult year,
and you're a little upset.
A good night's sleep, and you'll feel fine.
Sleep. I wouldn't dare close my eyes.
I'd see that thing again,
that face, my face.
Now, don't panic.
That's the worst thing you could do.
I am not panicking.
I'm resigning.
Oh, you can't resign.
Not until after the graduation anyway.
Oh, yes, I'll resign before the graduation,
otherwise, I'd crack up.
Why? It's just an ordinary graduation.
It isn't ordinary, Jonathan.
Believe me.
There are certain things I can't tell you...
...but the strain would be terrible.
And obviously, I'm in no condition
to undergo even a small strain at this point.
Do me one little favor, Timothy.
Before you resign...
...talk to your old friend
in the Psychology Department.
What's his name?
DWIGHT:
Dr. Neary?
Dr. Neary.
All right.
But I warn you...
...I fully intend to resign
before the day is out.
Get me Dr. Neary.
[CLEARS THROAT]
If he resigns publicly before the graduation,
our plan is useless.
Don't worry.
He'll be out of circulation very soon.
You'll just have to take his place
a little earlier than we planned, that's all.
Dr. Neary, Jonathan Trumbull here.
Dean Dwight
is on his way over to see you.
NEARY:
He is? Good.
I haven't seen him since this morning.
He's a sick man, Neary.
I want you to keep him at your place
until you hear from me again.
Sick? Timothy?
Why, he was fine
when I saw him this morning.
If I say he's sick, Neary, he is sick.
Of course, he is sick.
Shall I call a doctor?
Oh, no.
Just make sure he doesn't get away.
But, uh, if he is sick, Mr. Trumbull,
and of course he is...
...shouldn't he be treated?
The regents elect the new chairman
of the Psychology Department...
...next month, Neary.
I had intended
to recommend you for the job.
Uh, but detaining Dean Dwight
without his consent...
...it would be unethical.
And I had not intended to mention
that little indiscretion of yours...
...with that blend graduate student.
Um, I suppose I could
keep him here for a while.
Considering it's for his own good.
His and yours, doctor. Good day.
Take care of him later.
Meanwhile, to all intents and purposes,
I am Dwight.
I don't like replacing him this soon.
I'll have to face that daughter of his.
Either you replace him or he resigns.
All right.
You keep Dwight under wraps.
I'll take care of the brat.
What about the U.N.C.L.E. agents?
We'll find something interesting
for them too.
I still don't think you should come here, sir.
You could give any number of excuses.
Absolutely not, Mr. Solo. I'll be there.
And it's your job
to see that I leave there alive.
Yes, sir.
WAVERLY:
And as far as Dean Dwight is concerned...
- I can assure you, he's beyond suspicion.
- But it is possible...
...that he might've told someone
about our being here, inadvertently.
Yes, it's possible.
Why don't you ask him?
Yes, sir.
That's exactly what we're planning to do.
My own face. It was terrible.
- I can well imagine.
- And I smell things too.
These are not good signs, Timothy.
Not good at all.
Silas, do you think
I've gone over the edge?
I wouldn't say that.
But I think we should have a talk
about your problems.
Along talk, and right now...
...before your condition worsens.
Right now, I'm going to announce
my resignation.
- I think we should talk, Timothy.
- What's there to talk about?
I will resign and I'll have myself
committed voluntarily.
Your symptoms are not that serious.
A frank discussion
might relieve the anxieties...
...that are causing these symptoms.
Otherwise, you may end up like Nelson.
He started out just like you.
He is now in the incurable ward
at the state hospital.
They call him “the vegetable.“
Let's talk. Wait.
I better call my daughter first.
Tell her I'll be late for dinner.
[TELEPHONE RINGS]
- Hello?
- Who is this?
This is Timothy Dwight.
Who am I speaking to, please?
What's wrong?
It's getting worse.
I just talked to myself on the telephone.
Um, sit down, Timothy.
Can I get you an aspirin?
I don't like it, Trumbull.
I don't like it at all.
Just for one night.
We can't very well get rid
of everyone who knows Dwight.
No, I suppose not.
Though it is a nice idea.
[KNOCKING ON DOOR]
Come in.
Ah, Mr. Kuryakin and Mr. Solo.
How nice to see you.
- I hope you gentlemen stay for dinner.
- No, thank you.
We have to get back to the campus
to make preparations for tomorrow.
We wanted to ask you if you might have
mentioned our presence here to anyone.
You asked me to keep it to myself,
didn't you?
Well, of course, but you might've
mentioned something without realizing it.
You're speaking
to the dean of this university, Mr. Solo...
...not to one of its crackbrained coeds.
Forgive us.
[DOOR OPENS THEN CLOSES]
MINERVA:
IIIya.
THRUSH AGENT [AS DWIGHT]:
Oh, hello, dear.
MINERVA:
Hello, Daddy.
How were classes?
Daddy, I didn't have any classes today.
Now, you know that.
Oh, ha, of course.
Sometimes I feel more like a dean
than a daddy. It's an occupational hazard.
Don't worry about that, because you
are doing just fine in the daddy department.
Thank you, dear.
You know Mr. Solo?
My daughter, Minerva.
- Minerva, how are you?
- Hello, Mr. Solo.
“Na. what ate you doing have?
Oh. Oh, I know.
It has something to do
with that business in the dorm, doesn't it?
Something like that.
Uh, I'm sure everything will work out.
I hope so. Good day.
- Good day.
- I'll walk you to the car.
I'm worried about Daddy.
SOLO:
Why?
MINERVA:
Uh, nothing specific.
Well, it's just that
he's been acting peculiar.
ILLYA:
How peculiar?
Very.
Is there anyone else on campus
that knows your father well?
His oldest friend is Silas Neary.
He's a psychology professor.
Bye, IIIya.
Bye.
She's suspicious. So are they.
If we give them enough time...
THRUSH AGENT:
Their time's already run out.
My dear.
I think the moment has arrived...
...for you and Daddy to have
a little talk about the facts of life.
How'd he seem to you?
Like an absent-minded dean.
Mr. Waverly says he's all right,
he's probably all right.
Wouldn't do any harm
to talk to his friend Dr. Neary.
DWIGHT:
All that year, I was terribly frustrated.
Pressures, anxieties, you know.
And then the next year, when I entered
seventh grade, it was even worse.
My father wanted me
to make good marks...
...and my mother wanted me
to go out for the baseball team.
I suppose it was just
a typical problem, but--
[KNOCKING ON DOOR]
- Dr. Neary?
NEARY: Yes.
We'd like to talk to you
about Dean Dwight.
When did you get here?
Oh, uh, along time ago.
I've been talking to Dr. Neary
about myself and I, uh...
I'm up to the seventh grade already.
So we meet at last, Dean Dwight...
...face-to-face.
Please, Mr. Solo, no fireworks.
There are ladies in the audience.
Daddy.
Touching. Very touching.
I take pleasure in such happy reunions.
Let's skip the flourishes
and get rid of them.
We have a lot of arrangements to make
before tomorrow morning.
Spoken like a true Philistine, Trumbull.
You have no appreciation of the an.
My business killings
are always quick and clean...
...but this is a pleasure killing,
so I don't mind dawdling a little.
After all,
man has to have some relaxation.
THRUSH AGENT:
Interesting, these communicators.
I think, though, it'd be inadvisable
to let you keep them.
Uh, you'll find the chairs
are bolted to the floor.
Now, class, you're ready
for your final exam...
...to be administered
by this electronic teaching machine...
...which is reputed
to work wonders with slow learners.
A recorded voice will ask you a question
and give you two possible answers.
If you choose the correct answer by
pressing the appropriate button, Mr. Solo...
...a bell will ring.
This will be followed
by the next question.
If you choose the wrong answer...
...or fail to answer
within the 15-second time limit...
...a buzzer will sound.
This buzzer is connected
to a cylinder of poison gas.
When the buzzer sounds,
the gas is released.
So you see, my friends,
your first mistake will also be your last.
To insure your privacy,
we've sealed off all the ventilators.
And there will be no proctors.
We operate here on the honor system.
Seal it.
MAN [ON RECORDING]: Question one. European history.
In what year did Napoleon Bonaparte die?
Answer A: 1823.
Answer 3: 7827.
[TICKING]
Come on, Napoleon,
you should know that.
I was named after him.
I wasn't at his funeral.
I flunked history
the same year I flunked Latin.
- Dr. Neary?
- I'm afraid it's not my field, Mr. Solo.
I think it's 1823, but I'm not sure.
Well, let's not die by default.
[RINGING]
[ALL SIGH]
MAN [ON RECORDING]:
Question 309- Nature! science-
The horseshoe crab
belongs to which genus?
Answer A: Genus Armonidae.
Answer 3: Genus Rhexiflia.
- Armonidae.
- Rhexillia.
[CLOCK TICKING]
[BELL RINGING]
THRUSH AGENT [AS DWIGHT]:
Alex.
WAVERLY: Ah, Timothy.
THRUSH AGENT: It's been too long.
This is Jonathan Trumbull,
chairman of our board of regents.
WAVERLY: Mr. Trumbull.
THRUSH AGENT: Alex Waverly.
Well, Timothy.
you're looking well, I must say.
THRUSH AGENT:
I'm looking forward to the next hour...
...more than I can tell you, Alex.
WAVERLY: Uh, Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin...
...aren't they here?
Why, no, I haven't seen them
since last night.
WAVERLY:
That's curious.
THRUSH AGENT:
Everything's in order, my friend.
Indeed, everything's just fine.
Oh, I don't know, gentlemen.
I don't think the younger generation
is completely hopeless.
Difficult perhaps, but not hopeless.
You could kill him now just as easily.
No, I want to wait until they're all seated
and he's in the middle of his speech.
I want it to be absolutely clear
he's been killed by Dean Timothy Dwight.
Killed in front
of the entire graduating class.
Consider what'll happen, Trumbull.
The groves of academe
will be shaken to the very roots.
The scandal will lead
to so many investigations...
...U.N.C.L.E. will be finished.
Absolutely finished as a secret agency.
And Thrush will move into the vacuum.
TRUMBULL:
Excuse me. This way, gentlemen, please.
Open Channel D, please.
Mr. Solo?
Mr. Kuryakin?
Either of you, come in, please.
MAN [ON RECORDING]: Question 336. Biochemistry.
TRUMBULL:
We're ready, Mr. Waverly.
Oh, coming, coming.
TRUMBULL: Alexander Waverly
hardly needs an introduction.
His reputation
is well-known by all of you.
And on this day, when you are
about to leave the cloistered halls of ivy...
...no man is more qualified...
...to give you a few words
of wise advice...
...as you are about to...
MAN [ON RECORDING]:
The star Alpha 17...
...is haw many light years from the sun?
Answer A: 416.
Answer B: 394.
[DWIGHT SNORING]
Daddy.
[TICKING]
Daddy, wake up.
DWIGHT:
It's 394.
NEARY:
Four sixteen.
DWIGHT:
Three ninety-four, I tell you.
ILLYA: Push the button.
SOLO: Which one?
[RINGING]
TRUMBULL:
But before you hear Mr. Waverly...
...I would be derelict in my duty...
...if I did not give you a few words
of parting advice of my own.
MAN [ON RECORDING]: Geography. Mt. Whitney...
ILLYA:
Napoleon, that's closed-circuit television.
MAN“.
Answer A: 14,495.
Answer 3: 74.
TRUMBULL:
I can only say...
...we of the older generation...
...look to you for new solutions
to our old problems.
[SIGHS]
[ILLYA GRUNTS]
ILLYA:
Four ninety-five.
How do you know?
ILLYA:
I climbed it.
[BELL RINGS]
ILLYA: Help!
If there's anybody can see us, help us.
[ON TV]
Help!
Help! Help, anybody.
MINERVA:
Please! Please!
TRUMBULL: And finally,
I can give you no better advice than this:
Heed well the words of the man
who is about to speak to you...
...Alexander Waverly.
[APPLAUSE]
Gentlemen of the faculty...
...parents and members
of the graduating class...
MAN [ON RECORDING]: Question 340- Mathematics.
What is the numerical value of pi?
Answer A: 3.14159.
Answer 3: 3- 74758.
DWIGHT 8. NEARY:
Answer B.
This is a historic occasion.
It's the first time
you both agreed on something.
[BUZZING]
That's impossible. It must be answer B.
Agreed. It must be.
The machine is wrong.
Save your breath, professor.
You're gonna need every bit of it.
[STUDENTS CHANTING AND JEERING]
PATRICIA: Hey, kids. Trouble.
I need your help. Come on!
WAVERLY: And as I look out
over this sea of young faces...
...I cannot believe
those prophets of doom...
...who are certain
that civilization is at its last gasp.
[STUDENTS YELLING]
STUDENT 1:
Look.
[MINERVA COUGHING]
STUDENT 2:
Hold your breath.
Hold your breath.
STUDENT 1:
Untie the ropes.
STUDENT 2:
Don't breathe.
STUDENT 1:
Hold your breath.
The future is in your hands.
After all, we old ones
will not be around much longer.
And then it will be your task
to carry forward the torch.
I must admit, the world you inherit
from us is not exactly unscaned...
...but nevertheless--
[CLEARING THROAT]
[GUN COCKS]
[GUNSHOT]
[CROWD SCREAMING]
SOLO: Dean Dwight.
Better stay right where you are.
Run into any Thrush men,
you're likely to get killed.
Oh, I doubt that.
[SOLO GRUNTS]
Trumbull! It's him.
Shoot him, Trumbull.
No, Trumbull. It's him.
MINERVA:
No!
- Shoot him!
- Daddy!
No!
Daddy!
Darling, you saved my life.
[DWIGHT CHUCKLING]
How could you tell us apart?
Don't you think
I even know my own daddy?
SOLO: I thought you were building
your superman plans around IIIya.
MINERVA:
I was.
But he told me
that insanity ran in his family.
[SOLO CHUCKLES]
Well, I couldn't very well expose
my future children to that kind of risk.
Why, he even told me
that he was a little...
mo”.
Hmm. Crazy like a fox.
Do they still print these things
on sheepskin, Timothy?
I'm ashamed to say this to you, Alex.
but that's ordinary paper.
Economy has replaced tradition.
Things have changed
since you and I were in college.
PATRICIA:
Mr. Kuryakin.
- Yes, Miss Darling?
- Please. Patricia.
Uh, can I call you IIIya?
Please do.
Heh, you know,
Mr. Solo told me how smart you are.
I mean, getting all these answers
when you were on the teaching machine.
Oh, he's a very bright guy.
Well, the point is, I'm not.
[GIGGLES]
So I thought that maybe
you might tutor me in the evenings.
Mm. He'd do a wonderful job.
You know, there's insanity in my family.
Oh! Heh.
Well, that makes it
even more interesting, heh.
You will, won't you?
Why not?
Hey.
I beg your pardon, Miss Dwight?
Well, it just dawned on me.
Since we're friends with U.N.C.L.E.,
who do we demonstrate against next?
Oh, now, really, Minerva, please.
Don't worry, Timothy.
So long as there are students,
there'll be protest.
That's one tradition
that will never change.
[ENGLISH SDH]
Loud and clear. Go ahead.
38th Street clear
as far as Eighth Avenue.
Repeat. No sign of possible Thrush activity
as far as Eighth Avenue.
Roget. Ova! and out. “Na?
[OVER RADIO]
Williams reports 38th Street clear.
- Nat a Thrushie in sight.
- I wouldn't bet on it.
How soon before we reach
the rendezvous point?
In about six minutes, we should, uh...
Wail a second. Hang on. “Na.
- Solo here.
- I'm at Checkpoint David.
- All clear as far as Madison.
- Roger.
Helicopter 490 has made a thorough check
of Zone G, as in “George.“
No foreseeable problems.
Did you hear that, IIIya?
I heard, but I'm still dubious.
WAVERLY:
Yes, I've already paid my compliments...
...to the people in Section Five.
That dummy they made
is astonishingly like me.
So much so that I'm rather glad now
Thrush didn't manage to destroy it.
It might be a good idea to cancel
all public appearances for a while, sir.
Well, perhaps so, Mr. Solo.
But there's one
that I can't possibly avoid.
Nor do I wish to do so.
Blair University.
My alma mater.
And certainly, Thrush isn't gonna prevent
me from getting that honorary degree.
I'm quite certain that Thrush
will do their best...
...to make sure the award is posthumous.
I was rather hoping
that you and Mr. Kuryakin...
...would do your best to see that it isn't.
IIIya's already there, uh.
scouting the terrain. I'll join him tomorrow.
Good.
Oh, and Mr. Solo...
Mr. Solo,
Blair is a coeducation institution...
...so try to curb your
predatory instincts, will you?
Yes, sir.
[STUDENTS CHATTERING]
MAN [OVER SPEAKER]: Attention all students.
There will be
a mammoth protest meeting...
...in front of Felton Hall today at 4 p.m.
All students are invited.
I repeat, all students are invited.
Volunteers, please report
to protest headquarters.
Attention all students.
And I mean all students.
Come to the mammoth protest meeting
in front of Felton Ha"...
Uh, excuse me.
How does one go about joining the group?
- You wanna protest?
- Very much.
What are we protesting?
MINERVA:
That.
ILLYA:
Oh, I'm with you.
I haven't seen you before.
I'm Minerva Dwight.
Uh, IIIya Kuryakin.
You new left or old left?
Well, I favor
the moderately conservative left...
...slightly to the right of Rasputin.
Who decided on the demonstration?
- That was Gregory's idea.
Gregory?
Gregory Haymish, our off-campus agitator.
Every group has one, you know.
Yes, I know. Uh, is he here?
No, but he'll be at the demonstration.
I see. Uh, may I?
MINERVA:
Thank you.
Don't mention it.
[JEERING]
Beautiful. Beautiful.
Greg, IIIya's just joined the group.
HAYMISH: Welcome.
Welcome to the way-outs, big daddy.
[SHOUTS]
All right, group, I wanna hear rebellion!
[STUDENTS YELLING]
ILLYA:
What's the matter?
I don't want Daddy to see me.
Daddy?
This is Dean Dwight.
May I have your attention, please?
Quiet, everybody.
This demonstration
is in violation of university rules.
Please disperse immediately.
Unless you disperse immediately...
...I shall order the campus police
to take appropriate measures.
This is your last chance.
Unless you disperse immediately,
you will all be arrested.
Everybody down.
MINERVA:
Come on. What are you waiting for?
All right, officers, do your duty.
[STUDENTS LAUGHING]
You're not supposed to cooperate.
- Not even a little?
- Absolutely not.
HAYMISH:
Police brutality!
[STUDENTS JEERING]
[GROOVY MUSIC PLAYING]
Hi. I have an appointment
with Dean Dwight.
You'll have to wait your tum.
SOLO:
I beg your pardon.
No offense...
...but I have an appointment too,
and I'm next, heh.
Right behind Mr. Trumbull.
- Who's he?
- He's the head of the board of regents.
And he's in there right now.
The arrests were entirely unnecessary,
Dean Dwight.
Entirely unnecessary.
Think of the publicity.
But the university rules
specifically forbid such demonstrations.
What do I care about university rules?
Oh, the papers will have
a field day on this one.
Besides, students have been
staging demonstrations all year...
...and you haven't had them arrested.
Why now?
I've been patient with them until now,
but patience has its limits.
Indeed it does.
And my patience with you
is fast reaching those limits.
He actually wanted me
to cut open a frog.
Ugh! Can you imagine?
Unbelievable.
Well, I walked out on the course
and never came back.
And then there was French history.
All those kings,
and every one of them a Louis.
[SOLO CHUCKLES]
Heh, you'd have to be a census take!
to keep them straight.
So I flunked out on that course too.
I was never very good at history myself,
Miss, uh...?
- Darling.
- What?
Uh, Patricia Darling.
SOLO:
Mm.
How many courses are you flunking?
FI--? Uh, well, I...
I can't tell yet.
TRUMBULL:
Just remember.
I hold you personally responsible for any
bad publicity attached to this incident.
SOLO:
How do you do? I'm Napoleon Solo.
I have an appointment with Dean Dwight.
Oh, I'm Dwight.
This is, uh, Mr. Jonathan Trumbull,
chairman of our board of regents.
- How are you?
- We just did that.
DWIGHT:
Well, uh, heh...
PATRICIA:
Dean Dwight?
Oh, not again, Patricia.
I'm sorry, Dean Dwight.
- What is it this time, frogs 01 Louis?
- Both.
I'll talk to you later.
Alex Waverly called to tell me
you would be arriving, Mr. Solo.
I trust you have everything well in hand.
Far from it, Mr. Solo. Far from it.
I realized a demonstration at the ceremony
would make security more difficult...
...so I decided to put a stop
to all demonstrations.
I had the main group
of picketers arrested.
Now Trumbull threatens to have me
removed unless I drop the charges.
I think we can handle
the demonstrators, sir.
A matter of principle, Mr. Solo.
A matter of principle.
I will not back down.
[RADIO BEEPING]
Excuse me.
“Na?
[GROOVY MUSIC PLAYING]
Are we allowed to put bail
on our expense accounts?
I gather you're in durance vile.
I am indeed.
SOLO: You seem to have
an affinity for those places.
It was in the line of duty. Would you
please come down and get me out of here?
Me too. Me too.
[OVER RADIO]
Me tau.
That's Minerva. What's she doing there?
I beg your pardon.
DWIGHT:
Minerva Dwight. That's my daughter.
She's there, isn't she?
I'm afraid so, sir.
We'll get you out shortly, IIIya.
Meanwhile, just relax and enjoy the music.
DWIGHT:
It's too much.
First this assassination business,
and now my own daughter arrested.
Well, I'm sorry about that, Mr. Dwight.
It's not your fault, Mr. Solo.
It's just that the year's been so had already.
The free-speech riots last fall...
...the basketball scandal this spring,
and now this.
It's too much for one man. It's...
...just too much.
TRUMBULL:
I'm sure he's an U.N.C.L.E. agent.
Then there are probably more.
U.N.C.L.E. agents tend to hunt in packs.
TRUMBULL:
I say kill him.
Well, I wasn't suggesting
we give him a party, Trumbull.
Merely that we wait until
he contacts some of his associates.
Learn to kill efficiently, Trumbull.
You'll save yourself
a great deal of time and trouble.
I can't stand waiting.
It makes me nervous.
Everything makes you nervous, Trumbull.
[GROOVY MUSIC PLAYING]
It's all right, you're free to go.
The charges have been dismissed.
HAYMISH:
Everybody down.
MINERVA:
IIIya.
What are you doing?
We can't knuckle under
to the establishment now.
We must stand our ground.
Here we are and here we stay.
We shall not be moved.
GUARD:
Jackson! Barnes!
[CHEERING]
Cossacks!
We have called the dean's bluff and won!
[GROOVY MUSIC PLAYING]
Now he wouldn't dare try to stop us
from putting on our demonstration...
...at the graduation.
When Waverly begins his speech,
we all grab our signs...
...and march right down to the podium!
[ALL CHEER]
ILLYA: Uh, do we have to march
down to the podium?
Couldn't we just, uh.
hold them up at the back?
Oh, that would be the nice,
middle-class way of doing it.
- Are we middle-class?
CROWD: No!
Then we march
right down to the podium!
CROWD:
Yeah!
Turned up anything, hmm?
I'm not sure.
This is our big chance...
...to hit the establishment where it hurts.
So let's make the most of it.
[TELEPHONE RINGING]
I'll get it.
I think this, uh, demonstration
is a little too convenient.
I smell Thrush, maybe, huh?
ILLYA:
So do I, but I don't know who.
Uh, just a minute.
Greg, it's for you.
SOLO:
What about him, baby?
Hello?
ILLYA:
He's just a misguided extremist.
Hmm. A Thrush extremist, maybe, huh?
Maybe.
Yes, he's here now...
...and he's talking to the blond-headed kid
that joined the group this morning.
Yeah. Well, I figured
he was an U.N.C.L.E. agent.
Beautiful. All right.
You have the men there...
...and I'll give our two little U.N.C.L.E. mice
a whiff of cheese...
...that will have them scurrying
right into the trap.
HAYMISH: That's all for tonight.
See you tomorrow morning.
CROWD:
Good night. See you later.
IIIya, will I see you tomorrow?
I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.
Dear IIIya,
you're so hopelessly middle-class.
But I like you anyway.
Well, I'm glad.
You know, I'm a biology major.
I'm taking a course in eugenics.
- Well, that's nice.
- Well, don't you think...
...that the improvement of the human race
by selective breeding is important?
- Oh, I do, I do.
- Good.
Because I have a hunch that you and I--
- You and I what?
Just think of the offspring
we could produce.
Why, in three or four generations,
it could be a race of superman.
Almost.
Well, it's a thought-provoking idea...
...but, uh, don't you think
you should finish the course first?
What?
Oh. Well, um...
We'll talk about it tomorrow.
How is it that the clouds
still hang on you?
Hmm? Oh.
You asked me this morning...
...if I remembered any members
of the group acting strangely.
SOLO:
Mm-hm. And have you?
Yeah, well, I seem to recall
a guy named Tony Wills...
...talking to a couple
of very strange cats.
How strange?
The double-breasted types
with bulges right here.
If you wanted to find Tony...
...if you cut straight across the quad...
...right in front of the girls' dorm,
you'll find the student union.
- He'll be there.
- Yeah.
Thank you.
Don't mention it.
[GRUNTING]
- In there.
- That's the girls' dorm.
SOLO:
Is that bad?
J.D.'s from one of those
fraternities again.
That's the third time this week.
They're such ju--
SOLO:
Oh, sorry.
When I was in college,
they used to scream.
Come on.
Juveniles.
ILLYA: Where's the fire door?
PATRICIA: Over there.
MINERVA:
Get the kids.
[GRUNTING]
PATRICIA:
Pillow fight!
GIRL:
Pillow fight!
[GIGGLING]
[SHRIEKING]
GIRL:
Get him!
And I thought you were middle-class.
Well, appearances can be deceptive.
But you must take better care of yourself,
for the sake of our future children.
- Our superman?
- Mm-hm.
Would you rather have
super-boys or super-girls?
Hey, you know, that's the first time
I've gotten any use out of these books.
[GIGGLES]
Well, I don't know about your professors,
but I'd be delighted to give you an A.
In what subject?
Well,uh...
Why don't you try ancient history,
Mr. Solo?
It's what you're about to become.
Excellent timing, gentlemen. Thank you.
Don't celebrate yet, Solo.
There's plenty more where I came from.
I told you.
We should've killed him right away.
Now our whole plan
is knocked into a cocked hat.
I don't see that.
With Haymish in jail,
we can't assassinate Waverly.
“Can't“ is a big word, my good friend.
TRUMBULL:
Of course, we could just shoot him down.
But the idea behind the whole plan...
...was to blame the killing
on the student demonstrators.
There are other ways to kill Waverly...
...and other people to put the blame on...
...so I arranged an alternate method.
Dwight will kill Waverly.
- Who?
- Dean Timothy Dwight.
You must admit,
it's a rather provocative idea.
We haven't been able to find out who's
behind it, but we did get the hatchet men.
Mr. Solo, Thrush has enough hatchet men
to take on the United States Marines.
At least they can't follow
their original plan...
...which was to use a student
demonstration as a smoke screen.
One of their men was to have led
the demonstration and presumably kill you.
WAVERLY: They have as many plans
as they have hatchet men.
They're undoubtedly hatching out
a new one right now.
Alexander, this has gone too far.
The press is having a field day.
Have you seen the headlines?
I'm sorry, Timothy.
I don't mean to cause you embarrassment.
What are the headlines?
Something about a brawl
in a girls' dormitory.
Oh.
Well, with Mr. Solo involved,
I might've known.
Try and be a bit more discreet
in future, Mr. Solo.
Yes, sir.
And please, gentlemen,
leave my daughter out of this.
Since you've arrived, Minerva's
been in jail, she's been in a brawl.
Jonathan Trumbull
has threatened to have me fired.
The students are getting out of hand.
And I think I am on the nerve
of a vergous breakdown.
Must you keep that vaporizer on?
You can smell the fumes
all through the building.
THRUSH AGENT:
It's my sinuses, Trumbull.
Perhaps this makeup
aggravates the condition.
I'm going down to check on preparations
for the graduation ceremony.
I wouldn't wander around if I were you.
THRUSH AGENT [AS DWIGHT]:
Don't worry about me.
A remarkable job.
Truly remarkable.
THRUSH AGENT: You've been
in the sticks too long, Trumbull.
You've forgotten
how we do things in the big city.
[FOOTSTEPS]
SOLO: Dwight was not exactly
brimming over with goodwill.
Would you be?
He might be a little more cooperative,
it he's on the level.
- You think he isn't?
- Consider the facts now.
Thrush knew we'd be here, and Dwight
was the only one who was told about it.
Ah, Mr. Solo.
What do you think of our little campus?
Well, it's, uh, not exactly
a bucolic atmosphere.
Jonathan?
Jonathan?
Jonathan?
[THRUSH AGENT SNIFFING]
Timothy, what's wrong?
It's happened. I've cracked up.
You have? You look all right to me.
I just saw myself, Jonathan.
I just looked into my own face.
It was incredible.
What's wrong with it?
You have a perfectly acceptable face.
Some people might even
consider it handsome.
Yes, but it was on somebody else.
- Your face?
- Yes.
I opened that door and there it was,
my own face.
Through a cloud of swirling mist.
- Swirling mist?
- Yes.
I just saw myself in that room
not 30 seconds ago.
- Inside this room?
- It's empty.
TRUMBULL:
Naturally.
But what's that medicinal smell?
Smell?
[TRUMBULL SNIFFS]
What smell?
First I see things, now I smell things.
Jonathan,
I've finally gone over the edge.
TRUMBULL:
I wouldn't worry about it, Timothy.
It's been a difficult year,
and you're a little upset.
A good night's sleep, and you'll feel fine.
Sleep. I wouldn't dare close my eyes.
I'd see that thing again,
that face, my face.
Now, don't panic.
That's the worst thing you could do.
I am not panicking.
I'm resigning.
Oh, you can't resign.
Not until after the graduation anyway.
Oh, yes, I'll resign before the graduation,
otherwise, I'd crack up.
Why? It's just an ordinary graduation.
It isn't ordinary, Jonathan.
Believe me.
There are certain things I can't tell you...
...but the strain would be terrible.
And obviously, I'm in no condition
to undergo even a small strain at this point.
Do me one little favor, Timothy.
Before you resign...
...talk to your old friend
in the Psychology Department.
What's his name?
DWIGHT:
Dr. Neary?
Dr. Neary.
All right.
But I warn you...
...I fully intend to resign
before the day is out.
Get me Dr. Neary.
[CLEARS THROAT]
If he resigns publicly before the graduation,
our plan is useless.
Don't worry.
He'll be out of circulation very soon.
You'll just have to take his place
a little earlier than we planned, that's all.
Dr. Neary, Jonathan Trumbull here.
Dean Dwight
is on his way over to see you.
NEARY:
He is? Good.
I haven't seen him since this morning.
He's a sick man, Neary.
I want you to keep him at your place
until you hear from me again.
Sick? Timothy?
Why, he was fine
when I saw him this morning.
If I say he's sick, Neary, he is sick.
Of course, he is sick.
Shall I call a doctor?
Oh, no.
Just make sure he doesn't get away.
But, uh, if he is sick, Mr. Trumbull,
and of course he is...
...shouldn't he be treated?
The regents elect the new chairman
of the Psychology Department...
...next month, Neary.
I had intended
to recommend you for the job.
Uh, but detaining Dean Dwight
without his consent...
...it would be unethical.
And I had not intended to mention
that little indiscretion of yours...
...with that blend graduate student.
Um, I suppose I could
keep him here for a while.
Considering it's for his own good.
His and yours, doctor. Good day.
Take care of him later.
Meanwhile, to all intents and purposes,
I am Dwight.
I don't like replacing him this soon.
I'll have to face that daughter of his.
Either you replace him or he resigns.
All right.
You keep Dwight under wraps.
I'll take care of the brat.
What about the U.N.C.L.E. agents?
We'll find something interesting
for them too.
I still don't think you should come here, sir.
You could give any number of excuses.
Absolutely not, Mr. Solo. I'll be there.
And it's your job
to see that I leave there alive.
Yes, sir.
WAVERLY:
And as far as Dean Dwight is concerned...
- I can assure you, he's beyond suspicion.
- But it is possible...
...that he might've told someone
about our being here, inadvertently.
Yes, it's possible.
Why don't you ask him?
Yes, sir.
That's exactly what we're planning to do.
My own face. It was terrible.
- I can well imagine.
- And I smell things too.
These are not good signs, Timothy.
Not good at all.
Silas, do you think
I've gone over the edge?
I wouldn't say that.
But I think we should have a talk
about your problems.
Along talk, and right now...
...before your condition worsens.
Right now, I'm going to announce
my resignation.
- I think we should talk, Timothy.
- What's there to talk about?
I will resign and I'll have myself
committed voluntarily.
Your symptoms are not that serious.
A frank discussion
might relieve the anxieties...
...that are causing these symptoms.
Otherwise, you may end up like Nelson.
He started out just like you.
He is now in the incurable ward
at the state hospital.
They call him “the vegetable.“
Let's talk. Wait.
I better call my daughter first.
Tell her I'll be late for dinner.
[TELEPHONE RINGS]
- Hello?
- Who is this?
This is Timothy Dwight.
Who am I speaking to, please?
What's wrong?
It's getting worse.
I just talked to myself on the telephone.
Um, sit down, Timothy.
Can I get you an aspirin?
I don't like it, Trumbull.
I don't like it at all.
Just for one night.
We can't very well get rid
of everyone who knows Dwight.
No, I suppose not.
Though it is a nice idea.
[KNOCKING ON DOOR]
Come in.
Ah, Mr. Kuryakin and Mr. Solo.
How nice to see you.
- I hope you gentlemen stay for dinner.
- No, thank you.
We have to get back to the campus
to make preparations for tomorrow.
We wanted to ask you if you might have
mentioned our presence here to anyone.
You asked me to keep it to myself,
didn't you?
Well, of course, but you might've
mentioned something without realizing it.
You're speaking
to the dean of this university, Mr. Solo...
...not to one of its crackbrained coeds.
Forgive us.
[DOOR OPENS THEN CLOSES]
MINERVA:
IIIya.
THRUSH AGENT [AS DWIGHT]:
Oh, hello, dear.
MINERVA:
Hello, Daddy.
How were classes?
Daddy, I didn't have any classes today.
Now, you know that.
Oh, ha, of course.
Sometimes I feel more like a dean
than a daddy. It's an occupational hazard.
Don't worry about that, because you
are doing just fine in the daddy department.
Thank you, dear.
You know Mr. Solo?
My daughter, Minerva.
- Minerva, how are you?
- Hello, Mr. Solo.
“Na. what ate you doing have?
Oh. Oh, I know.
It has something to do
with that business in the dorm, doesn't it?
Something like that.
Uh, I'm sure everything will work out.
I hope so. Good day.
- Good day.
- I'll walk you to the car.
I'm worried about Daddy.
SOLO:
Why?
MINERVA:
Uh, nothing specific.
Well, it's just that
he's been acting peculiar.
ILLYA:
How peculiar?
Very.
Is there anyone else on campus
that knows your father well?
His oldest friend is Silas Neary.
He's a psychology professor.
Bye, IIIya.
Bye.
She's suspicious. So are they.
If we give them enough time...
THRUSH AGENT:
Their time's already run out.
My dear.
I think the moment has arrived...
...for you and Daddy to have
a little talk about the facts of life.
How'd he seem to you?
Like an absent-minded dean.
Mr. Waverly says he's all right,
he's probably all right.
Wouldn't do any harm
to talk to his friend Dr. Neary.
DWIGHT:
All that year, I was terribly frustrated.
Pressures, anxieties, you know.
And then the next year, when I entered
seventh grade, it was even worse.
My father wanted me
to make good marks...
...and my mother wanted me
to go out for the baseball team.
I suppose it was just
a typical problem, but--
[KNOCKING ON DOOR]
- Dr. Neary?
NEARY: Yes.
We'd like to talk to you
about Dean Dwight.
When did you get here?
Oh, uh, along time ago.
I've been talking to Dr. Neary
about myself and I, uh...
I'm up to the seventh grade already.
So we meet at last, Dean Dwight...
...face-to-face.
Please, Mr. Solo, no fireworks.
There are ladies in the audience.
Daddy.
Touching. Very touching.
I take pleasure in such happy reunions.
Let's skip the flourishes
and get rid of them.
We have a lot of arrangements to make
before tomorrow morning.
Spoken like a true Philistine, Trumbull.
You have no appreciation of the an.
My business killings
are always quick and clean...
...but this is a pleasure killing,
so I don't mind dawdling a little.
After all,
man has to have some relaxation.
THRUSH AGENT:
Interesting, these communicators.
I think, though, it'd be inadvisable
to let you keep them.
Uh, you'll find the chairs
are bolted to the floor.
Now, class, you're ready
for your final exam...
...to be administered
by this electronic teaching machine...
...which is reputed
to work wonders with slow learners.
A recorded voice will ask you a question
and give you two possible answers.
If you choose the correct answer by
pressing the appropriate button, Mr. Solo...
...a bell will ring.
This will be followed
by the next question.
If you choose the wrong answer...
...or fail to answer
within the 15-second time limit...
...a buzzer will sound.
This buzzer is connected
to a cylinder of poison gas.
When the buzzer sounds,
the gas is released.
So you see, my friends,
your first mistake will also be your last.
To insure your privacy,
we've sealed off all the ventilators.
And there will be no proctors.
We operate here on the honor system.
Seal it.
MAN [ON RECORDING]: Question one. European history.
In what year did Napoleon Bonaparte die?
Answer A: 1823.
Answer 3: 7827.
[TICKING]
Come on, Napoleon,
you should know that.
I was named after him.
I wasn't at his funeral.
I flunked history
the same year I flunked Latin.
- Dr. Neary?
- I'm afraid it's not my field, Mr. Solo.
I think it's 1823, but I'm not sure.
Well, let's not die by default.
[RINGING]
[ALL SIGH]
MAN [ON RECORDING]:
Question 309- Nature! science-
The horseshoe crab
belongs to which genus?
Answer A: Genus Armonidae.
Answer 3: Genus Rhexiflia.
- Armonidae.
- Rhexillia.
[CLOCK TICKING]
[BELL RINGING]
THRUSH AGENT [AS DWIGHT]:
Alex.
WAVERLY: Ah, Timothy.
THRUSH AGENT: It's been too long.
This is Jonathan Trumbull,
chairman of our board of regents.
WAVERLY: Mr. Trumbull.
THRUSH AGENT: Alex Waverly.
Well, Timothy.
you're looking well, I must say.
THRUSH AGENT:
I'm looking forward to the next hour...
...more than I can tell you, Alex.
WAVERLY: Uh, Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin...
...aren't they here?
Why, no, I haven't seen them
since last night.
WAVERLY:
That's curious.
THRUSH AGENT:
Everything's in order, my friend.
Indeed, everything's just fine.
Oh, I don't know, gentlemen.
I don't think the younger generation
is completely hopeless.
Difficult perhaps, but not hopeless.
You could kill him now just as easily.
No, I want to wait until they're all seated
and he's in the middle of his speech.
I want it to be absolutely clear
he's been killed by Dean Timothy Dwight.
Killed in front
of the entire graduating class.
Consider what'll happen, Trumbull.
The groves of academe
will be shaken to the very roots.
The scandal will lead
to so many investigations...
...U.N.C.L.E. will be finished.
Absolutely finished as a secret agency.
And Thrush will move into the vacuum.
TRUMBULL:
Excuse me. This way, gentlemen, please.
Open Channel D, please.
Mr. Solo?
Mr. Kuryakin?
Either of you, come in, please.
MAN [ON RECORDING]: Question 336. Biochemistry.
TRUMBULL:
We're ready, Mr. Waverly.
Oh, coming, coming.
TRUMBULL: Alexander Waverly
hardly needs an introduction.
His reputation
is well-known by all of you.
And on this day, when you are
about to leave the cloistered halls of ivy...
...no man is more qualified...
...to give you a few words
of wise advice...
...as you are about to...
MAN [ON RECORDING]:
The star Alpha 17...
...is haw many light years from the sun?
Answer A: 416.
Answer B: 394.
[DWIGHT SNORING]
Daddy.
[TICKING]
Daddy, wake up.
DWIGHT:
It's 394.
NEARY:
Four sixteen.
DWIGHT:
Three ninety-four, I tell you.
ILLYA: Push the button.
SOLO: Which one?
[RINGING]
TRUMBULL:
But before you hear Mr. Waverly...
...I would be derelict in my duty...
...if I did not give you a few words
of parting advice of my own.
MAN [ON RECORDING]: Geography. Mt. Whitney...
ILLYA:
Napoleon, that's closed-circuit television.
MAN“.
Answer A: 14,495.
Answer 3: 74.
TRUMBULL:
I can only say...
...we of the older generation...
...look to you for new solutions
to our old problems.
[SIGHS]
[ILLYA GRUNTS]
ILLYA:
Four ninety-five.
How do you know?
ILLYA:
I climbed it.
[BELL RINGS]
ILLYA: Help!
If there's anybody can see us, help us.
[ON TV]
Help!
Help! Help, anybody.
MINERVA:
Please! Please!
TRUMBULL: And finally,
I can give you no better advice than this:
Heed well the words of the man
who is about to speak to you...
...Alexander Waverly.
[APPLAUSE]
Gentlemen of the faculty...
...parents and members
of the graduating class...
MAN [ON RECORDING]: Question 340- Mathematics.
What is the numerical value of pi?
Answer A: 3.14159.
Answer 3: 3- 74758.
DWIGHT 8. NEARY:
Answer B.
This is a historic occasion.
It's the first time
you both agreed on something.
[BUZZING]
That's impossible. It must be answer B.
Agreed. It must be.
The machine is wrong.
Save your breath, professor.
You're gonna need every bit of it.
[STUDENTS CHANTING AND JEERING]
PATRICIA: Hey, kids. Trouble.
I need your help. Come on!
WAVERLY: And as I look out
over this sea of young faces...
...I cannot believe
those prophets of doom...
...who are certain
that civilization is at its last gasp.
[STUDENTS YELLING]
STUDENT 1:
Look.
[MINERVA COUGHING]
STUDENT 2:
Hold your breath.
Hold your breath.
STUDENT 1:
Untie the ropes.
STUDENT 2:
Don't breathe.
STUDENT 1:
Hold your breath.
The future is in your hands.
After all, we old ones
will not be around much longer.
And then it will be your task
to carry forward the torch.
I must admit, the world you inherit
from us is not exactly unscaned...
...but nevertheless--
[CLEARING THROAT]
[GUN COCKS]
[GUNSHOT]
[CROWD SCREAMING]
SOLO: Dean Dwight.
Better stay right where you are.
Run into any Thrush men,
you're likely to get killed.
Oh, I doubt that.
[SOLO GRUNTS]
Trumbull! It's him.
Shoot him, Trumbull.
No, Trumbull. It's him.
MINERVA:
No!
- Shoot him!
- Daddy!
No!
Daddy!
Darling, you saved my life.
[DWIGHT CHUCKLING]
How could you tell us apart?
Don't you think
I even know my own daddy?
SOLO: I thought you were building
your superman plans around IIIya.
MINERVA:
I was.
But he told me
that insanity ran in his family.
[SOLO CHUCKLES]
Well, I couldn't very well expose
my future children to that kind of risk.
Why, he even told me
that he was a little...
mo”.
Hmm. Crazy like a fox.
Do they still print these things
on sheepskin, Timothy?
I'm ashamed to say this to you, Alex.
but that's ordinary paper.
Economy has replaced tradition.
Things have changed
since you and I were in college.
PATRICIA:
Mr. Kuryakin.
- Yes, Miss Darling?
- Please. Patricia.
Uh, can I call you IIIya?
Please do.
Heh, you know,
Mr. Solo told me how smart you are.
I mean, getting all these answers
when you were on the teaching machine.
Oh, he's a very bright guy.
Well, the point is, I'm not.
[GIGGLES]
So I thought that maybe
you might tutor me in the evenings.
Mm. He'd do a wonderful job.
You know, there's insanity in my family.
Oh! Heh.
Well, that makes it
even more interesting, heh.
You will, won't you?
Why not?
Hey.
I beg your pardon, Miss Dwight?
Well, it just dawned on me.
Since we're friends with U.N.C.L.E.,
who do we demonstrate against next?
Oh, now, really, Minerva, please.
Don't worry, Timothy.
So long as there are students,
there'll be protest.
That's one tradition
that will never change.
[ENGLISH SDH]