The Odd Couple (1970–1975): Season 5, Episode 15 - Your Mother Wears Army Boots - full transcript

Oscar!

Yeah, here.

Oscar!

You son of a gun!

You devil!

Congratulations!

What? What?

What is this? What
are you doing?

Never mind.

Look, what's this? What?

"Alex Karras will be missing
from Monday Night Football



"for two weeks because
of a film commitment.

"Among those being
considered as the third man

"with Howard Cosell
and Frank Gifford

is well-known sports
columnist Oscar Madison."

I read it. I read it. So?

So?!

You're being considered for one
of broadcasting's biggest plums,

all it rates from you is a "so?"

Look, what are you doing?

All right. Don't...

I'm not even involved.
I give it a "whoopee!"

Well, save your
whoopees, will you?

It's only a one-shot.

Karras is coming back, you know.



This could lead to
bigger and better things:

college football announcing,

the Olympics. You
get to go to Moscow.

Will you take me with you?
Forget it. I'm not gonna get the job.

Well, how do you know
you're not gonna get the job?

Look at this.

'Cause Howard Cosell hates me.

Remember what I wrote
about him two weeks ago?

I called him the
mouth that bored.

Yeah, but who reads your column?

Well, maybe
somebody read it to him.

When I heard about this
Monday thing, I called him twice.

He didn't return either call.

I'm telling you, I think
he still carries a grudge.

He'll return my calls.

Why?

Do you know what
Howard Cosell loves

more than anything
else in this world?

Himself.

More than that. Who?

Martina Arroyo, the
great opera singer.

That's right, and he's
an opera buff, right?

He's a bigger opera
groupie than I am,

and I'm the guy who
followed Joan Sutherland

into a telephone booth
and nearly suffocated.

He's insane about
Martina Arroyo.

Yeah, but you didn't tell...
How's it going to help me?

I'll introduce him
to Martina Arroyo.

He'll owe me a
favor; you'll cash in.

One hand washes the other.

Well, you'd never understand
much about washing, would you?

(ding) Hey, but
that's a terrific idea.

If you set it up,
I think it'll work.

I mean it.

(theme music playing)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

The Odd Couple was filmed
in front of a live audience.

Members of the Lexington Avenue
Opera Club of Central Park West,

today is the greatest
day in our history,

for we're being honored
with the appearance of one

of the world's greatest opera
singers: Miss Martina Arroyo.

(applause)

Now, we're all dying to
hear you sing, Miss Arroyo,

and she will in a minute.

We're-we're awaiting the
arrival of one more superstar.

Oh, we appreciate this so much.

Anything for you, Felix.

You're the only photographer

that can make me
look like Twiggy.

(laughing) (door
buzzer sounding)

There he is!

There he is!

(chuckles): Well...

How are you, Howie?

Don't call me Howie!

Miss Arroyo!

For me, the culmination
of a life's dream.

Thank you, Mr. Cosell.

At my suggestion, Miss
Arroyo's going to sing

an aria especially for you.

I am overwhelmed,
my dear. Thank you.

Sit down. Yes.

Guest-of-honor chair.

Here we are. Oh,
don't you look nice.

Look how nice...

You don't have the little
"ABC" on your chest there.

Congratulations, Unger.

You can read "ABC."

Next week we'll
have you up to "D."

(chuckles)

You're such a kidder.

(laughs)

All right, now,
Miss Arroyo will sing

"Tace La Notte"
from Il Trovatore.

(piano playing)

(singing opera in Italian)

(tempo increases)

♪ ♪

(tempo increases)

(music fades)

(cheering and applause)

Oh, that's wonderful, wonderful.

Wasn't that exciting, Howie?

Don't call me Howie!

Sorry.

All right, Unger, I
guess I owe you one.

Yeah, well, that's
sort of what we figured.

(chuckles)

What is it you want me to do?

It-it-it's not for
me. It's for Oscar.

More than anything on Earth,

he wants to be on
Monday Night Football.

Unger, that's out of my hands.

I don't tell the
network who to hire.

Mr. Cosell, I'm quite surprised.

A man of your great influence,

and you can't do
anything for Oscar?

I don't know why
Muhammad Ali talks to you.

Oh, you've really gone
down a peg in her eyes.

Just because you
don't like Oscar?

Are you kidding?

I'd love to have Oscar.

I think he'd be terrific.

I-I thought you were mad at him.

I am!

The man has written
tasteless things about me

in his column, and I
can't think of a better way

to get even than by
having him on my show.

I don't understand.

Let me elucidate, Unger.

You're a little slow.

Monday Night
Football is a big hit,

because, in addition
to seeing the game,

the viewers love to
hear the three of us

trade insults.

Yeah, yeah. Heap abuse,
the one upon the other.

Yeah, yeah. And with a witless
boob like Madison in the booth,

I'd have a field day.

You know, I'm going to do it.

Miss Arroyo...

you have convinced me, my dear.

I am going to insist on
using Oscar Madison.

Oh, wonderful!

Aw, think nothing
of it, my dear.

My pleasure. Thank
you, Mr. Cosell.

By the way, Unger, your
apartment is furnished

in questionable taste.

And, oh, yes, Miss Arroyo,

I hope I have the opportunity
of repaying the favor soon.

Perhaps I shall
do an aria for you.

Good-bye, Mr. Cosell.

My dear, you may call me Howie.

(singing in Italian)

Oh, no, no, no, Miss Arroyo,
you don't have to do that.

Oh, I can't even leave a
room without cleaning up.

I'm compulsive that way.

What a wonderful way to be.

I'll get your coat.

Felix!

Oh, hi. Hi.

You must be Oscar.

Yeah.

FELIX: Oscar!

Ah, you met Miss Arroyo, huh?

Who?

This is Martina Arroyo.

Oh, hi. Hi.

You make her clean up, too?!

She's compulsive that way.

She's a neat freak.

Yeah, I like to help.

Well, you sure helped
me; I got that job.

You got it! Yeah, that's
why I rushed home.

I got a call from the network.

See, I'm gonna do
one game with Cosell.

He's going to announce
it on his radio show.

Oscar, you can't take that job.

What? You can't take that job!

Why not?

Just believe me.
You can't do it.

Felix, I would
kill for that job.

If I'm good, they'll put me
on Wide World of Sports.

He wants to cut you up.

He wants to expose you
as a buffoon and a boob.

Those are his words.

You mean, he wants
to give me the job

so he can make a fool out of me?

That's right, in front
of 40 million people.

I don't believe that.

I'm telling you the truth.

You can't take it. You
better be prepared.

I don't think I have to prepare!

I don't think he's
as big an ogre

as everybody
makes him out to be.

I'm gonna listen
to him on the radio.

All right, all right, come on.

I'll take you home.
(turns radio on)

He won't listen to me.

He's a very, very strange man.

I know. I found his
shorts in the oven.

COSELL (over radio): The
players won't speak to you;

the alumni are after you;

the college is considering
dropping football;

and even your children have
had their names legally changed.

I'll prepare a little.

Coach Carter has just
written out his resignation.

I told you I'd get
him, and I got him.

I'll prepare a lot.

MURRAY: Let me turn the
sound up. FELIX: No, no, no, no.

We're going to make
our own sound. Why?

Next week is Oscar's
turn to do the game.

So, we're going to
have a simulation,

a real broadcast right here.

Hey, can I say hello
to my mother? Yes.

Sit down.

I've really been studying a lot.

I've memorized the number
of every football player.

Fine. But how will you respond

to Howard Cosell's
sarcasm? That's the problem.

With wit. I'll top
him every time.

Don't worry about that.

Now, here are our microphones.

Here, you take that one.

Can-Can I have the eggbeater?

Give him the eggbeater.

All right, now...

I'll be Howard
Cosell. You'll be you.

You'll be Frank Gifford.

Hey, he's the cute one.

Great.

Now I'm going to
treat you mercilessly,

just the way Cosell
will, so respond in kind.

Don't hold back the
venom; let me have it.

I'm going to give it to you...

Now, keep your eye.
We'll do the game.

(á la Cosell): Good afternoon,
ladies and gentlemen.

This is Howard Cosell,

bringing you
the thrill of victory

and the agony of defeat.

With me in the booth is
my indestructible sidekick,

the Giffer, Number
16... Frank Gifford.

How does today's gridiron
pairing strike up with you?

Well, Howard, it's obvious

these two squads came
out here to play today.

I'm looking forward
to a real donnybrook.

And a big hello

to Mrs. Fanny Greshler
of Miami Beach.

Will she be able to see me?

Thank you, Giff.

Also with us in the booth

is a man who has been writing
a sports column for 16 years

and still hasn't learned
how to get it right:

one of America's true
illiterates, Oscar Madison.

Same to you, Howard.

Did you hear that,
ladies and gentlemen?

What a quick wit.

Aw, shut up!

Well, you got me
that time, Madison.

So's your old man.

A Renaissance man
with a Neanderthal mind.

Aah, your mother
wears army boots.

Come on, you guys.
We've got a game to do.

What are you
doing? What is that?

That's not wit! What?

"So's your old man..."

Who knows what's
witty? What is witty?

What witty men say.
That's what's witty.

Like what?

Emerson said, "A
foolish consistency

is the hobgoblin
of little minds."

And how often does a hobgoblin
come up during a football game

when a guy misses
a forward pass?

De La Rochefoucauld said:

"There is something
in the misfortunes

"of even our dearest friends,

which is not entirely
displeasing to us."

Is that what he said? Yes.

Well, I'm gonna get the
help of a professional.

Who?

The wittiest man I
know: Joey Birney.

Joey Birney?! Yeah.

The nightclub comic?

He can make jokes on anybody.

You know what he
said to Queen Elizabeth?

What?

"Don't fall down and
break your crown!"

That was in Earl Wilson's
column as one of Earl's Pearls.

I'm sorry, Emerson
never made Earl's Pearls.

He's on the 30.

He's on the 20.

He's on the ten... Touchdown!

Giving Pittsburgh an early lead.

By the way,

aren't the cops doing a
great job of crowd control?

I hope you're... (mutters)

(doorbell buzzes)

Hey.

Toulouse-Lautrec.

Are my Bermuda shorts ready?

Hey, Joey.

I've gotta get out
of here, warden.

I can't eat this slop anymore.

Joey...

Oh, I went to Havana
on one of those cruises

for $49.50... Joey...

A silent butler: Hello,
hello. It's all right?

Okay. All right? Okay.

I'm glad you could come, Joey.

I came right over the minute
I got your message, Oscar.

How do you feel?
You look terrible.

(grunts) I just came
back from a doctor.

He told me I've got the
body of a 25-year-old.

I said, "Don't tell my wife.
She'll make me give it back."

Listen, Joey... What a place?

It's done in Early Disaster.

Look at this. Fruit, and people
are starving in Yugoslavia.

Wax fruit. What are you
expecting, wax people?

Quick impression:
Madame Ouspenskaya.

Come on, Joey, please.

Look, I want you
to do me a favor.

What? What? What? I need
some insults, put-downs.

Insults? Yeah.

Oh, put-downs,
insults, insults...

Let me see. My wife is so
ugly, I take her everywhere.

It's better than
kissing her good-bye.

No, no, see... Oh,
she has long black hair;

luckily, she has long
gloves to cover it.

No, Joey... That's
a goody. I'm rolling.

I know you are, but see,

it's not a woman
that I want to insult.

What? A turkey? Hockey puck?

A chair? A table? A man! A man!

A man. Oh, a man, a man.

Uh... Hey, buddy, give me
a blueprint of your brains.

I'm building an idiot.

You may be strange,
but you're exceptional.

You're exceptionally strange.

No... That's not so good.

Oh! I got one now.

If brains were dynamite,

BOTH: you wouldn't have
enough to blow your nose.

How'd you hear that
one? I just bought it.

No, you're terrific. See...

But look, these are
for someone specific.

Specific? Yeah. Howard Cosell.

Howard, Howard...
Howard Cosell? Yeah.

Oh, Cosell! You mean the...

the sports guy.
That's the guy, yeah.

Oh, the big guy. Yeah, yeah.

Oh, the one with the
long-playing tongue

and the hi-fi head.

Good, good! Yeah...

I got it. You say to him,

"Hey, Cosell, I'd like to see

Evel Knievel jump over your
mouth." Huh? Good, good!

Yeah, with your tongue
and a loaf of rye bread,

you could open a delicatessen.

That's good, yeah.

Hey, Cosell, why don't
one of your relatives die

and leave you a little talent.

That's good, Joey.
You like that? Okay.

Cosell, I got two
words to describe you:

tall and cheap. Good. Good.

Listen, why don't you
go home, think about it,

write them out, will you?

I'll write them out. Okay.
I'll see you in about a week.

Remember the words of
Alexander Graham Bell,

who said to his wife in bed,

"What do you mean my
three minutes are up?"

(crowd cheering)

OSCAR: Hey, buddy.

What do you think? You like it?

If I'm good, they
do the alterations.

Oscar, I've been reading
this material you got

from Joey Birney.

Are you really
gonna do this stuff?

It cost me $35.

I think you'll get more
laughs with the jacket.

Will you cut it out.

I'm gonna make
mincemeat out of that guy.

Look how smug he is in there.

I'm gonna tear him apart.

With typewritten insults,
you're gonna tear him apart?

Felix, this is my big chance.

You see that guy in there?
That's Roone Arledge.

He's head of the whole
sports department.

He's gonna be watching me.

Now look, Howard, I know
you don't like Madison.

But give the guy
a chance, will you?

If he's any good at
all, we'll have him back

and really let him
have it next week.

Okay, Roone.

As a matter of fact,
I think you're right.

I'll give him every courtesy

and consideration.

Besides, I'm kind of
curious to see how he'll do.

You know, he's
really not a bad sort.

No, I think you'll like him.

Get ready, will you? We
have three seconds to go.

They're rolling the opening.
Good luck and be great.

Hello again, everyone.
This is Howard Cosell.

We're awaiting the start
of a preseason clash

between Paul Brown's
unbeaten Cincinnati Bengals

and a rebuilding New
York Jets football team.

Normally, old Number
16, the Giffer, Frank Gifford,

would be my sidekick tonight,

but the Giffer has
been sidelined,

clipped by the flu bug.

It's my pleasure
to say, however,

that we have the
pleasure of bringing in

a new voice on the
sportscasting horizon tonight:

the winner of many
journalism awards,

and I think, perhaps,
the most knowledgeable

and responsible sports
columnist of them all...

Mr. Oscar Madison!

Thanks, Needle-nose.

Listen, Howard, is that a
new jacket you've got on there,

or did you just have
the old one repainted?

Oscar, as an acknowledged
expert on professional football,

how do you see tonight's game?

A lot better than you do
without your glasses, Four-Eyes.

You know, Howard, I
never miss your radio show.

I never hear it,
so I never miss it.

Yes, sir, Howard,
you've got a great voice.

It grates on everyone.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we'll be back for the opening
kickoff in just one moment.

(arguing)

They're gonna kill this show.

Wasn't I terrific, huh?

OSCAR: He ought to know better

than to match wits with
me. What are you doing?!

Aren't you listening
to the man? What?

He's done nothing but
say nice things to you.

He's a pussycat.

He was nice, wasn't he?

Well, of course.

And there you are insulting
him. I wasn't listening.

I was paying attention to this.

Give me these rotten jokes.

I'm gonna tear them up.

The man was so nice to you.

You know what
you just did? What?

For the first time in
broadcasting history,

you've got an audience
rooting for Howard Cosell.

Well, Roone, did you hear it?

I tried to be nice,

and what I got was a cut-rate
lowered-case Don Rickles.

The man is obviously
an insensitive dolt.

Yes, I heard it,
and you're right.

I thought you
handled it beautifully.

I thought you
acted like a prince.

As far as I'm concerned, Howard,

whatever you do from
now on is up to you.

Handle it the way you want.

You got it.

All right, ladies and gentlemen,

that's Horst Muhlmann
of the Cincinnati Bengals,

teeing up the
ball for the kickoff.

And I must say, Muhlmann
has quite an interesting story

behind him, doesn't he, Oscar?

That's right,
Howard. That's right.

Muhlmann is just
one of the many fine

soccer-style kickers
we've got from Europe.

Didn't you once
write in a column

that the soccer-style kickers

would never make it
in the NFL, Madison?

Well, that was about
five years ago...

Of course, 20/20 hindsight.

Number 12, Joe Namath,

quarterback for
the New York Jets,

out on the field now.

Ready to move his team.

Namath has just thrown a
19-yard pass down the middle.

What's your view of
Namath this year, Madison?

Pretty good,
Howard, pretty good.

That knee doesn't seem to
be giving him that much trouble.

Don't you remember that
great exclusive of yours,

just one year ago,

announcing Joe's early
retirement from football?

He changed his mind.

Never mind.

A Jet lineman apparently
injured on the play.

That was a great pass against
a terrific Bengal defense.

How do you know
it's a terrific defense?

They play a great
seven-man zone.

Who told you about it?

Nobody. I know all about zones.

Why do you think
I'm betting $100

and laying seven
points on the Bengal...

I don't believe I said that.

Betting $100 and giving
seven points on the Bengals.

You heard it here,
ladies and gentlemen.

A bare-faced admission

of professional
football wagering.

I suspect, Madison, that
the commissioner of the NFL,

Alvin Pete Rozelle,

is awaiting your explanation.

Well, you see, I... (stammers)

Say something!

Well, I was in this bar...

I wish some relative
of yours would die

and leave you some wax fruit.

I'd like to see
Evel Knievel jump

over your Bermuda shorts.

You know your
Lautrec is too loose?

After this commercial,
one of us will be back.

Let's put up a minute
spot on mental health.

And here's where you are,
Howard, in tomorrow's column.

"His insults and barbs are
just a small part of a big man,

"a man whose style
is totally unique.

"Howard Cosell has the
attention of 40 million Americans

every Monday night."

What are you trying
to do, Madison,

ruin my image?

If possible.

Listen, I want to thank you

for really copping
out for me on the air.

Don't mention it.

I knew you were nervous.
I can understand it.

After all, you were
sitting next to me.