The Sylvester & Tweety Mysteries (1995–2001): Season 1, Episode 4 - A Chip Off the Old Castle - full transcript
The theft of the famous Blarney Stone brings Granny and company to County Cork, where they encounter the legendary Irish Banshee.
Ah, Ireland.
Home of blarney castle..
...and the Blarney Stone.
'And the Duffy Stone.'
If you like the Blarney Stone,
you'll love the Duffy Stone.
Tourists come here every day
to kiss the Blarney Stone.
Legend says that this gives
the gift of Irish gab..
...to every lucky visitor.
It's the banshee.
Jellies preserve us.
The Blarney Stone has been stolen.
Can you find it, Dan?
I could find the Blarney
Stone, but I won't.
This is my day off, it is.
Timothy Michael called in sick
and now I hear he's off
to the parish picnic
...with Jimmy Gorman and
Old Bob the fireman. Pah!
Then we'll be putting in a call
to the greatest detective
on the planet.
You don't say. Missing Blarney Stone?
Sorry, folks. I'm busy.
Then we'll have to bring in Granny.
Granny!
Granny?
♪ The shamrock is forbid by law
'Gangway below.'
Whoa!
Maybe we better get Sam Spade.
Puddycat don't know it,
but I took a mace class.
Phew!
My, you really know how
to put on the dog.
Sure, and if it isn't granny herself.
World's greatest detective
at your service.
Have you found any clues?
I could find tons and
tons of nice clues
only it's my day off.
Hey, hey, there, you horrible creature.
That's my lunch.
Hector has the right idea
but the real trick is getting
the lunch to come to you.
Top of the morning.
'Hey, little yellow fella.'
Ooh, puddycat gonna be
sore when he wake up.
Here's the spot where the
Blarney Stone got stolen.
Hmm. Jigsaw cut marks.
Did anybody hear sawing?
All we heard was the
banshee's terrible wail.
'Louder and more frightening than a..'
'uh, a much smaller banshee.'
Be that as it may.
I can prove this is a
case of pure theft.
Aha! Hmm.
Whoever stole the blarney stone
dropped these green-spotted
seashells in the act.
They say green-spotted
seashells can be found
at the vertical rock-cliff
caverns of County Cork.
The clues were leading
us hither and yon
but there was a case to be
solved and lunch to be eaten.
One small step for man.
One giant leap for lunch.
Whoa!
Que sera sera.
Detective work is full of red herrings.
And fiddler crabs of every
p-p-possible color.
Ew.
We returned to town
determined to leave no stone unturned.
Excuse me, but, uh, may I
borrow your telephone?
Eh, you're not gonna
keep it, now, are ye?
Oh, no, no. I-I just
wanted to call the hotel.
When we had the Blarney Stone,
people came to buy our goods.
Now they come to steal telephones.
Do you wanna see the Duffy Stone?
Do you?
I think everyone here
should see a doctor.
Oh, don't mind her.
Faith n. Begorra, apologize to granny.
Go away.
Duh. She's afraid she'll have to
close up her little novelty shop
since the tourists stopped coming.
Goodness, does the whole
town's livelihood
depend on the Blarney Stone?
Oh, yes. That and hats made
out of chia pets, of course.
I'm Flynn O'Casey, the
local land agent.
Without the Blarney Stone
people around here
'would have to sell all
their land and property.'
Ah, a delectable denizen of the deep.
This spud's for you.
You mustn't eat things Granny
didn't pay for, puddy.
Huh? Ugh!
'Telephone call for granny.'
- Uh, hello?
- Listen carefully.
If you want to find the Blarney
Stone, go to this address.
Where? Uh, near a peat bog?
Our search for the stone brought us
to the swampy Irish bogs
and, of course, we had
to pass the night
in the obligatory spooky house.
Well, we've searched everywhere
and can't find any Blarney Stone.
I think some local was
playing a prank on us.
Well, we'll just stay here
tonight and have a nice rest.
'Oh, that's only a room
thermometer, not a thermostat.'
There's no furnace here.
In Ireland, for heat, they burn chunks
of cut ground called peat.
Digging up dirt for fuel.
Somebody's finally found
a use for you dogs.
'Quit playing in the soot, Sylvester.'
'Bath time for you.'
Oh, boy, a clue.
"Colonel Mustard, with the candelabra
in the drawing room."
It doesn't fit, but
it's an excellent clue.
Hold still, Sylvester.
Tweety never fusses.
'Just to be safe, you're
on watch, Sylvester.'
Humph. Man's best friend, hmm.
When Sylvester's on the job,
nothing stands in his way.
Neither rain, nor sleet,
nor snow, nor sunspots
nor weevils, nor wolverines
nor Wayne Newton
Huh?
Rats.
Ha!
Take that, feckless vermin.
Phew!
Sylvester, why are you playing
the piano at this hour?
We're trying to get some sleep.
Oof!
Suffering succotash.
It's the Blarney Stone.
Instead of Granny finding
it, it's found her.
The stakes were high, and
I knew it was up to me
but I needed assistance.
Hmm?
'Who dropped that huge
chunk of peat on us?'
Well, I suppose you can explain
this little disturbance, Sylvester?
Explain? What was there to explain?
I'd saved the old girl.
Bad old puddycat.
You ruined my beauty sleep.
Oh, gracious. Stop it. Stop it.
'Outside, both of you.'
What's this? An innocent country lass
innocently tilling the
innocent Irish soil?
Hmm.
Hey, look.
I'll bet that's the
dirt-digging pip-squeak
who dropped all that muck on us
and you're not gonna let her
get away with that, are you?
Phew!
Hey.
A poor merchant can't cut peat
from her own land
without meeting a bunch
of snoopy people.
Snoopy, snoopy people.
Be off with you, you
great sweaty beast.
Oof!
Let's see. "Valet parking,
vegetarian, veteran services."
Ah, "veterinarian."
According to the Irish farmers' almanac
those green-spotted shellfish
can be found along the coast here.
The same shellfish we found where
the Blarney Stone was stolen.
Wasn't that a long time ago?
So back to the seashore we traipsed.
The shellfish should be on
that furthest rock out there.
Whose bright idea was this, anyway?
Yikes!
Goodness' sakes.
Oh, grow up.
Just when the case had us all baffled
there was a fortunate
break in the storm.
I thought I saw a strange contraption
up in that big dark cloud.
Aha.
Where's that darn wind
when you need it?
Ooh!
Yeow!
Five, four, three..
You take it from here, puddy.
'Did something happen?'
My glasses are all foggy.
Why, thank you, Tweety.
These bifocals get so.. Oh, goodness.
Look at that. A fog generator.
A jigsaw.
Hmm. Where have I seen
this peat before?
Aha.
So that's who holds the
deed to this house.
Aha.
Why didn't I think of that?
'Aha!'
Ooh. If granny puts this
together, she's good.
Watch this.
The old peat-machine-in-the-wall trick.
Oh. Maybe it's this one.
Oh. Well, it's got to be this one.
Phew!
Oh.
Aha!
The missing part of the puzzle.
'Duffy.'
And it almost worked
but I did stupid things.
Good going, granny.
Once again, my role
as super-sleuth went uncelebrated.
Aha!
The Blarney Stone.
I could have solved this myself
but it was my day off.
Oh, sure.
Home of blarney castle..
...and the Blarney Stone.
'And the Duffy Stone.'
If you like the Blarney Stone,
you'll love the Duffy Stone.
Tourists come here every day
to kiss the Blarney Stone.
Legend says that this gives
the gift of Irish gab..
...to every lucky visitor.
It's the banshee.
Jellies preserve us.
The Blarney Stone has been stolen.
Can you find it, Dan?
I could find the Blarney
Stone, but I won't.
This is my day off, it is.
Timothy Michael called in sick
and now I hear he's off
to the parish picnic
...with Jimmy Gorman and
Old Bob the fireman. Pah!
Then we'll be putting in a call
to the greatest detective
on the planet.
You don't say. Missing Blarney Stone?
Sorry, folks. I'm busy.
Then we'll have to bring in Granny.
Granny!
Granny?
♪ The shamrock is forbid by law
'Gangway below.'
Whoa!
Maybe we better get Sam Spade.
Puddycat don't know it,
but I took a mace class.
Phew!
My, you really know how
to put on the dog.
Sure, and if it isn't granny herself.
World's greatest detective
at your service.
Have you found any clues?
I could find tons and
tons of nice clues
only it's my day off.
Hey, hey, there, you horrible creature.
That's my lunch.
Hector has the right idea
but the real trick is getting
the lunch to come to you.
Top of the morning.
'Hey, little yellow fella.'
Ooh, puddycat gonna be
sore when he wake up.
Here's the spot where the
Blarney Stone got stolen.
Hmm. Jigsaw cut marks.
Did anybody hear sawing?
All we heard was the
banshee's terrible wail.
'Louder and more frightening than a..'
'uh, a much smaller banshee.'
Be that as it may.
I can prove this is a
case of pure theft.
Aha! Hmm.
Whoever stole the blarney stone
dropped these green-spotted
seashells in the act.
They say green-spotted
seashells can be found
at the vertical rock-cliff
caverns of County Cork.
The clues were leading
us hither and yon
but there was a case to be
solved and lunch to be eaten.
One small step for man.
One giant leap for lunch.
Whoa!
Que sera sera.
Detective work is full of red herrings.
And fiddler crabs of every
p-p-possible color.
Ew.
We returned to town
determined to leave no stone unturned.
Excuse me, but, uh, may I
borrow your telephone?
Eh, you're not gonna
keep it, now, are ye?
Oh, no, no. I-I just
wanted to call the hotel.
When we had the Blarney Stone,
people came to buy our goods.
Now they come to steal telephones.
Do you wanna see the Duffy Stone?
Do you?
I think everyone here
should see a doctor.
Oh, don't mind her.
Faith n. Begorra, apologize to granny.
Go away.
Duh. She's afraid she'll have to
close up her little novelty shop
since the tourists stopped coming.
Goodness, does the whole
town's livelihood
depend on the Blarney Stone?
Oh, yes. That and hats made
out of chia pets, of course.
I'm Flynn O'Casey, the
local land agent.
Without the Blarney Stone
people around here
'would have to sell all
their land and property.'
Ah, a delectable denizen of the deep.
This spud's for you.
You mustn't eat things Granny
didn't pay for, puddy.
Huh? Ugh!
'Telephone call for granny.'
- Uh, hello?
- Listen carefully.
If you want to find the Blarney
Stone, go to this address.
Where? Uh, near a peat bog?
Our search for the stone brought us
to the swampy Irish bogs
and, of course, we had
to pass the night
in the obligatory spooky house.
Well, we've searched everywhere
and can't find any Blarney Stone.
I think some local was
playing a prank on us.
Well, we'll just stay here
tonight and have a nice rest.
'Oh, that's only a room
thermometer, not a thermostat.'
There's no furnace here.
In Ireland, for heat, they burn chunks
of cut ground called peat.
Digging up dirt for fuel.
Somebody's finally found
a use for you dogs.
'Quit playing in the soot, Sylvester.'
'Bath time for you.'
Oh, boy, a clue.
"Colonel Mustard, with the candelabra
in the drawing room."
It doesn't fit, but
it's an excellent clue.
Hold still, Sylvester.
Tweety never fusses.
'Just to be safe, you're
on watch, Sylvester.'
Humph. Man's best friend, hmm.
When Sylvester's on the job,
nothing stands in his way.
Neither rain, nor sleet,
nor snow, nor sunspots
nor weevils, nor wolverines
nor Wayne Newton
Huh?
Rats.
Ha!
Take that, feckless vermin.
Phew!
Sylvester, why are you playing
the piano at this hour?
We're trying to get some sleep.
Oof!
Suffering succotash.
It's the Blarney Stone.
Instead of Granny finding
it, it's found her.
The stakes were high, and
I knew it was up to me
but I needed assistance.
Hmm?
'Who dropped that huge
chunk of peat on us?'
Well, I suppose you can explain
this little disturbance, Sylvester?
Explain? What was there to explain?
I'd saved the old girl.
Bad old puddycat.
You ruined my beauty sleep.
Oh, gracious. Stop it. Stop it.
'Outside, both of you.'
What's this? An innocent country lass
innocently tilling the
innocent Irish soil?
Hmm.
Hey, look.
I'll bet that's the
dirt-digging pip-squeak
who dropped all that muck on us
and you're not gonna let her
get away with that, are you?
Phew!
Hey.
A poor merchant can't cut peat
from her own land
without meeting a bunch
of snoopy people.
Snoopy, snoopy people.
Be off with you, you
great sweaty beast.
Oof!
Let's see. "Valet parking,
vegetarian, veteran services."
Ah, "veterinarian."
According to the Irish farmers' almanac
those green-spotted shellfish
can be found along the coast here.
The same shellfish we found where
the Blarney Stone was stolen.
Wasn't that a long time ago?
So back to the seashore we traipsed.
The shellfish should be on
that furthest rock out there.
Whose bright idea was this, anyway?
Yikes!
Goodness' sakes.
Oh, grow up.
Just when the case had us all baffled
there was a fortunate
break in the storm.
I thought I saw a strange contraption
up in that big dark cloud.
Aha.
Where's that darn wind
when you need it?
Ooh!
Yeow!
Five, four, three..
You take it from here, puddy.
'Did something happen?'
My glasses are all foggy.
Why, thank you, Tweety.
These bifocals get so.. Oh, goodness.
Look at that. A fog generator.
A jigsaw.
Hmm. Where have I seen
this peat before?
Aha.
So that's who holds the
deed to this house.
Aha.
Why didn't I think of that?
'Aha!'
Ooh. If granny puts this
together, she's good.
Watch this.
The old peat-machine-in-the-wall trick.
Oh. Maybe it's this one.
Oh. Well, it's got to be this one.
Phew!
Oh.
Aha!
The missing part of the puzzle.
'Duffy.'
And it almost worked
but I did stupid things.
Good going, granny.
Once again, my role
as super-sleuth went uncelebrated.
Aha!
The Blarney Stone.
I could have solved this myself
but it was my day off.
Oh, sure.