The Wild Wild West (1965–1969): Season 2, Episode 6 - The Night of the Flying Pie Plate - full transcript

Closed for the night, mister.

Hang onto your gold
dust till the morning.

Well, this gold gets
deposited tonight.

Where do I find Ben Victor?

He's likely over the Glory Hole,

but he makes it a rule
never... Thank you.

Out, you drunken bum,

and don't come back
until you're sober!

You know where I
can find Ben Victor?

Thank you.

Uh, Mr. Victor?



Oh, you're James
West, of course.

I, uh... I didn't
know it showed.

But it does.

The incorruptible eyes,

the federal jut of the jaw.

No extra charge
for sitting down.

Thank you.

You got my telegram, I take it.

Why, you timed your
arrival to the... To the minute.

Are all federal
agents so prompt?

Oh, they are when
they're entrusted

with merchandise of some value.

Well, I do like the genteel
way you put that, Mr. West.

Your, uh...



Your telegram mentioned

that you'd be needing
some vault space...

for storage of your merchandise.

Might I ask how
much merchandise?

Twenty-five hundred
pounds of gold dust.

Comes to more
than a million dollars.

I'm not keeping you
from your drink, am I?

Oh. Yes, I think
I see your point.

Let's go.

Back!

Draw back from the
yawning pit of eternal fire

while there is still
a measure of time.

We've heard this before.

Glory's own self-appointed
guardian of its salvation,

Hellfire Simon.

Is he really a preacher?

No. But, uh, a
little fact like that

isn't gonna stop our Simon.

Go to.

Huddle over the
tables of abomination,

clutching the
devil's pasteboards.

Lemmings!

Blind, heedless lemmings,

tumbling after one another

into the eternal pit of fire.

Swillers!

Guzzlers of the foul waters

of the river Styx.

Oh, come on now, Hellfire.

You...

How many mortgaged souls
have you foreclosed today?

Spawn of Baal!

Hold my hat.

I warned you! You asked for it!

Ah!

Finish him off, Joe.

Great balls of fire.

There she is!

And fiery chariots...

bearing hosts of
death and retribution

shall seek out the thrice-warned

eternally damned!

Wait.

Whatever it is, it's
glowing like it's red-hot.

Must have hit pretty hard,

the way it plowed
into the ground.

Well, Mr. West...

you got any answers?

No, but I have some questions.

Halt!

Do not advance any further.

Fear, Mr. West?

Well, let's just say discretion.

Behold! Behold!

A sign of the terrible
wrath to come!

Halt!

Do not advance any further.

I call upon you

to destroy this
Sodom and Gomorrah.

This Morning Glory!

This abomination
in the eyes... Uh!

Flamin' fishes, she's green!

Green as Kelly's tie
on St. Patrick's day.

He will recover...

with no lasting effects.

Oh, what do you do when
someone really irritates you?

I do not comprehend.

Well, let me put it another way.

Uh, if it's not
classified information,

how did you do that?

I did nothing.

It was the force field belt.

Oh. Well... that
explains everything.

Well...

uh, welcome to Morning Glory,

garden spot of old
Arizona, Miss, uh...

I am called Morn.

Ask her where she hails from!

From far off.

In your language,
it is called Venus.

How is it you know
our language so well?

On our planet,

many young people,
especially females,

are born with the
gift of translation.

It is of the brain.

When you speak,

the vibrations are
translated by my brain.

Thus I am able to...

Please forgive us for the
trouble we are causing you.

As my sisters have
just reminded me,

we have run short of fuel.

Your sisters just now
re... Reminded you?

I am sorry.

I forget that you do not
know of our method of...

How shall I say it?

Of thought projection.

My sisters Alna and Pan.

My sisters...

do not understand your
language as well as I.

They wish to know
if you can supply us

with sufficient fuel
for us to return home.

Well, what kind of fuel do
you use in your rig, Morn?

We can supply you with
coal, wood, even oil if you like.

No, no. Mildum.

You know, the base metal.

How do you say it
in your language?

Wait. I will show you.

That's mildum?

You... You use it for fuel?

Yes. For the reaction motors
that power our vehicles.

You have no mildum here?

Oh, w... Well,
yes, we... We, uh...

We have lots of
this article, but...

We call it gold.

Oh. I am glad.

We will need, in
your units of weight,

400 pounds of... gold.

Would you bring it to us now?

What, have I said
something wrong?

Uh, mildum, or gold,

isn't just picked
up off the ground.

No? But on our planet,

there are mountains
of it... everywhere.

But on my planet, it's
scarce. Very scarce.

Men often spend
their whole lives

digging for it,
fighting for it...

and sometimes even dying for it.

Oh.

Then I suppose
we shall have to try

to return home
with what we have.

Those, uh... Those
stones on your clothes...

are they jewels?

Jewels?

Precious stones. You know.

Precious? Not to us.

They are on the ground,

millions of them.

We like the colors,
so we decorate.

We decorate clothes,

we decorate buildings...

crush them to make roads.

Here.

Take one.

Ahem. A... About
that mildum, ladies.

It, uh... It may
be just possible

that we can work something out.

Thank you for your
help, Mr. Pettigrew.

You're welcome, Mr. West.

Here's a receipt
for your premises.

Are you evicting me
from my own office?

Well, let's just call
it federal requisition.

In two days, a
detachment of troops

will be here to take
over the convoy.

In the meantime, this
is government property

for which you'll be
adequately reimbursed.

Well, that seems fair enough.

It's pretty dry work,

tallying up sacks of gold dust.

Would you care to
join me in a dram?

Hm, just to clear the dust.

Corporal. This detachment
will remain on full-alert basis

until further notice.

Two men on, two
men off at all times.

Yes, sir.

Heh.

Hellfire Simon.

Who else would have

a tricked-out glory
wagon like that?

Is that Simon?

Yep. When it comes to salvation,

Hellfire's his own
best customer. Hm.

Uh, let me have a beer, please.

How'd the test on them jewels

come out, Mr. Victor?

What? Oh, the jewels.

You know, I never
did get around to them.

Do you mean to tell us

that they assay
out to plain glass?

Now, Calico, use the
brains you was born with.

I don't know anything
about jewelry,

but I do know that
nobody's going to go around

passing out the real
thing like it was confetti.

I'm no gem expert,
but there's a simple test.

May I?

Excuse me.

They're jewels.

What do you say about that?

I say it doesn't prove
out to a hoot in the wind.

Now, Mr. West is
a very capable man

in a great many fields,

but I doubt that he
is an expert on gems.

And that is what it would take

to prove the value
of these jewels...

I beg your pardon,

would you mind not
jostling my arm, please?

Excuse me.

And who might you be, sir?

Uh-huh.

"Dirk Dijon. Precious
and semiprecious gems

purchased, sold and appraised."

You're an expert, huh?

Without a peer.

Quite a coincidence
you being here, Mr. Dijon.

Yes. Is it not, huh?

I'm afraid I have some bad news

for the owner of these,
whoever they are.

Do go on, Mr. Dijon.

This is definitely not
a first-class diamond.

Two thousand, $2200 is
all you could hope to get.

All right, hold it,
men. Hold it, hold it.

What about the rest of them?

The ruby is not of
the first water either.

The market being what it is,

the most you could hope
to get would be 3000.

All right, now quiet, quiet.
Go on, please. Go on.

As to the sapphires...

$800 apiece would be the
most they could possibly fetch.

Good day to you, gentlemen.

Men...

I think that we are onto
something really big.

Now, there's got to be at least

$2 million worth of jewels

hanging off the dresses alone

of those three uh... Uh...

Well, those three
what, Mr. West?

You're a fast man
with an answer.

Let's say three
out-of-town visitors.

Okay.

Okay.

There are three
out-of-town visitors

right out there in the canyon,

and all they need
is a few hundred

measly pounds
of gold for their rig.

They've got nothing but rubies
and diamonds and sapphires

to barter for them.

Now from where I stand...

I think we can make a deal

with these three
heavenly graces,

and while we're at
it, make more money

than any of us have
ever seen in our whole life.

They are evil.

Let no one be
deceived by their color...

for green is the color of evil.

They are evil, I tell you.

Their arrival from
outer space is evil.

Their purpose is evil.

They must be destroyed.

Don't you think you overdid
that, uh, gem expert bit

with those inflated
prices you were quoting?

James, my boy...

I know enough about
the glittering stuff

to tell you this.

Those articles
are the real McCoy.

Of course. It figures.

Whoever's running
this fleecing game

would prime the
suckers that way.

Listen, your telegram
mentioned something

about a flying pie plate...

whatever that is.

You'll find out in due time.

It's all part of the treatment.

West.

The rope. Tie him up.

How close to the pie
plate should we leave him?

Right next to it.

Make it look like he
was snooping around.

I hit him pretty hard.
Uh, he could be dead.

Not a chance.

Not with a head like he's got.

He will be soon.

You got a lot to learn
about tying ropes.

All right, all right. We're
close enough now, anyway.

Not with that.

It'd look more
like they'd done it

if we don't use a bullet.

See if you can tie him up.

Finished.

Drop it.

You are hurt, Mr...?

No. I'm not hurt.

The name's Jim.

I'm just tired from,
uh, playing too hard.

Sit.

What really happened, Jim?

Oh, nothing much. Just...
a minor disagreement

with a couple of
minor playmates.

Your playmates,
they are hurt also?

Well, let's, uh, say
they're not feeling any pain.

You know, uh, in case
no one's ever told you...

you're really very nice.

You are very nice too.

Uh, I'm more tired
than I thought I was.

Is there a place where I could,

uh, rest inside?

I am sorry.

My sisters will
allow no earthling

to enter our vehicle.

Ah, that's too bad.

In that case, I'll just have
to go back to town and rest.

You're very sweet, Morn,

and it's been fun.

Jim, you will please
not play too hard.

Why did you do that?

Well, it's, um...

It's a custom on my planet.

It's called a kiss.

A kiss.

Yeah. It's a gesture
of friendship.

If you feel friendly
toward someone,

you kiss them.

Do you understand?

I think so.

Morn... if that's your name

I want you to listen to me.

You're mixed up in
something very serious.

Mixed up?

What is it that you mean?

Jim, I... I know.

Your sisters have just
projected a reminder

that it's time for you to go

and practice your piano scales.

Why, are they...

They dead?

I don't recall ever
seeing two people

who looked any deader.

Morning, gentlemen.

Looks like it's working itself
up to becoming a nice day.

Now I guess that'll be a
lesson to you boys, huh?

Better keep away from
our green-skinned friends,

except in the daytime.

All right!

You men get your pokes ready.

Why don't we start
weighing what we got?

Nate Kilburn, 18 ounces even.

Just put your "X"
right there, Nate.

Uh-huh. There you go.

Mr. William Wingo,
31 and a half ounces.

Very good, Bill.

I'll tell you one thing.

I've probably forgot
more about panning gold

than them young
fellows will ever learn.

Now let's see what
we got for a total.

Mm-hm.

One hundred and fifty pounds,

nine and a half ounces.

That's all?

After all the backbreaking
panning and digging we done?

I'll tell you one thing, men.

If we don't do any
better than this,

a certain flying pie plate

is gonna be halfway
back to Venus

before we get them their
400 pounds of gold they need.

What do we do, Mr. Victor?

I'll tell you what we gonna do.

There's a couple of million
dollars in jewels out there

practically begging
for a new home.

Now either we come
up with a lot of mildum, or

call the whole thing off.

You're my favorite
answer man, Mr. West.

You got any ideas
on the subject?

No, the only sizable amount
of gold is in your vault.

And there's a lot more
than 400 pounds of it.

Only problem is it belongs to
the United States government.

Well...

so much for that.

Oh, by the way, Mr. West,
when can the government

be expected to come
by for their, uh, property

and move on with it?

Another day, maybe
two. A week... I don't know.

Uh, excuse me, gentlemen.

I... I don't know much
about these things, of course,

but, uh, how do you suppose
the government would feel

if, uh... If their funds were...

How shall I put it?

Temporarily borrowed,
uh, just long enough

to complete the
jewel transaction?

I can tell you...

and anybody else
that's interested.

The United States government

would take a
very dim view of it.

Good day, gentlemen.

Well, now it's all
painfully obvious, isn't it?

Your laughable, utterly
ridiculous suspicions

proved right on the head, Jim.

Victor, Wingo, and those
other two prize beauties

keep needling the
miners about how their...

chances for cleaning up

in a really big way are
gonna go glimmering,

unless they can...

get their hands on
a big chunk of gold.

And, by coincidence,

there happens to be a big
chunk of gold in Victor's vault.

Which the miners are going
to get around to sooner or later.

They'll blow up the vault.

They'll take the
gold to the pie plate.

And then the pie plate will, uh,

take off somehow.

And, uh, they'll be
the ones to blame...

Leaving everyone
else in the clear.

Tsk. Neat.

It's the neatest operation
I've ever heard of.

Any idea who's running the show?

Uh, right now my number
one choice would be Victor,

but... for some reason
he's too obvious.

Hmm.

Jerry and Calico...

No, no.

Which leaves, uh,
Hellfire Simon, Wingo...

and the, uh, Chinese
chef at the Busy Bee.

Choose one.

Well, let me think about it.

Right now if I were you,

I'd, uh, get over
to Victor's office.

That's where all the fun
and games are gonna be.

Right.

I'll have it manned on
a... constant alert basis.

What about you?

Me? I'm going out
with a girl from Venus...

taking her to an
old-fashioned American picnic.

Corporal?

Corporal.

There's something out there.

Mr. Gordon. Would you come out

and look at what's
out here, please?

Well, don't just stand
here, gentlemen.

Let's help these lovely, uh...

whatever-they-are inside.

Yes, sir.

Here, get some hot
water, plenty of it, uh?

Get some smelling salts
or some spirits of ammonia.

No, wait a minute.

Better make that brandy, if
we've got any of that around.

Uh.

What... Where are we?

Uh, you're in perfectly safe
hands, ladies, I assure you.

You just must have
fainted, that's all.

Of course. It is this earth air.

Please understand.

It is excellent air...
but for Venusians...

Aren't you going to tell
them why we are here?

Shall I?

We are here to
beg you for mildum.

Without it, we
cannot return home.

Oh, my dear ladies,

what you ask is
absolutely impossible.

We cannot give what
is not ours to give to you.

You do understand
that, don't you?

I suppose that is final?

I'm sorry.

Believe me.

Begging your pardon, ma'am.

What manner of
small arms are those?

What? This?

In your language,
you would call it...

How do you say it?

An anesthesia projector.

Like so.

Hyah!

Giddyup! Go!

Hyah!

I am glad you talked
me into coming on a...

What are we on?

A picnic.

Yes. A picnic.

And I like your earth food.

What is it?

What you're eating
came from a bird.

A bird?

A singing bird?

It's a chicken. And
chickens don't exactly sing.

Oh, I am glad.

Thank you for the picnic.

I now feel friendly.

Morn, do all the
people on your planet

have the same
color skin as you do?

Oh, yes.

Do they not have on your planet?

No, we have some variations.

That's funny.

Look at this. It's
green, isn't it?

Oh, I am sorry.

I hope it will come off.

It did.

It came off of you.

Jim...

I must tell you a secret.

Yes, I think you should.

You will not speak
of this to my sisters.

What?

My sisters do not
believe I am old enough

to use this... but I do.

All my friends of
my age do also.

Is it all right?

It's perfect.

You know, in...
In many ways, uh,

your planet is similar to mine.

Mine is not so friendly.

Jim...

I like your Earth.

I think perhaps I
would like to stay.

Stow them evenly there, Calico.

They're heavy.

I know the hands. Feels
like 400 pounds in each sack.

All right, let's
go. On the move.

Is that it?

That's all.

Giddyup. Hyah!

Hyah! Giddyup!

Thank you for showing
me all about picnicking, Jim.

It was a pleasure, Morn.

I like it almost as
much as being friendly.

Well... good night, Morn.

Oh.

I'd recognize that
groan anywhere.

No, Jim. No, you
must go quickly.

Get out of my way, Morn.

You heard him.

Out of his way.

Mr. West, allow me to introduce

our sterling cast of characters.

This is the celebrated
Courtney sister act,

known to you as
Alna, Pan and Morn.

Congratulations on
your performance, ladies.

As for myself,

I am the poor but
proud proprietor

of Morning Glory's
humble assay office.

Over there we
have Mr. Dirk Dijon...

otherwise known
as Artemus Gordon,

your dashing
fellow federal agent.

Arty... you're green.

Do you, uh, like the shading?

A simple chemical dye...

designed to give him the...

Venusian effect.

The chief feels it will lend

a delightfully bizarre note

when his body is finally found.

I thought you
were the chief. No.

Oh, you were
supposed to, Mr. West.

Congratulations on
your performance too.

Thank you, Mr. West.

It was rather good, wasn't it?

I'm going to miss
the old Hellfire Simon

and his unforgettable
lines from the book.

Then allow me to quote
a few final lines for you

from Ecclesiastes.

A time to live...

a time to be born...

a time to dance...

and a time...

to die.

Exactly 10:40.

Can you both see this timepiece?

You see, there's a
considerable amount of dynamite

underneath the floor of
our little pie plate here,

wired to go off at
a precise instant.

And you, of course,

most considerately want
us to know exactly when.

Exactly.

It will, 20 minutes
from now, at 11:00.

Boom!

And the explosion supposedly
being the pie plate taking off.

Very canny of you, sir.

Long before, you and your
jolly friends will have departed.

Arty?

How are they going to depart?

Yes. How?

Well, uh, don't know
exactly how they'll leave, Jim,

but from what you tell me...

they came sailing into the lives
of Morning Glory on a balloon...

all gussied up with flares

to amaze the simple natives.

Very good, Mr. Gordon.

The only point you didn't cover

was the simple
noise-making device

that contributed so richly to
the amazement of the natives.

Arty, I've just figured out

how our friends are
going to take off too.

Have you, Mr. West?

How?

Wouldn't be
possible in a balloon.

Not carrying 2500
pounds of gold dust.

A delight to converse
with you, gentlemen.

Go on.

So it'll have to be a wagon.

One that'll never be
suspected, stopped

or searched for the million-
dollar payload it carries.

Ah, of course. The glory
wagon of Hellfire Simon.

Congratulations, gentlemen.

Now you know all.

Not quite.

Was it luck that I
just happened here

minutes before
the pie plate debut?

Dear me, no.

All very carefully
arranged, Mr. West.

You see, originally
I had the idea

that it might be valuable

to have the testimony
of a trusted federal agent

that there actually had
been a flying saucer.

But you showed yourself

to be much too
difficult to convince.

Pity. Or you wouldn't be
in the spot you're in now.

Yeah. Oh. One more question.

What about the force field belt?

Oh, that. Really quite simple.

A fine wire attached to
a harness under my vest.

At the right moment,

two of Victor's muscular
boys hauled back on it.

The rest is history.

Adieu, gentlemen.

Loud noises distress me.

So you'll forgive
me if I don't linger.

Seventeen minutes before "boom."

Anything on your mind?

Get in the wagon.

Watch your step. That's it.

Help!

Calico. Jerry. Go!

Get out of here.

Ladies, please!

Ladies, I have to get in there.

Arty, have you got the girls?

They're right
here! All 13 of 'em!

Yeah-hah!

Ladies! Hey!

Oh, Jim. Jim?

Oh. Are...? Are
you all right, Morn?

Oh, yes.

What's your real name?

Maggie. Mm.

You and your sisters
are under arrest, Maggie.

That's good. Did
you hear that, Artie?

Hm? No, I didn't.

Well, Maggie got a year,
the other two five-to-ten.

And Victor got 10-to-20.

Well, it's not enough.

Hanging's too good for anyone
who'd turn another man green.

Oh, Arty, you're
gonna be the sensation

of all the dinner
parties in Washington.

Nothing but invitations.

Oh, yeah, sure.

Arty. It's gonna
fade in three days.

Maggie told me.

On the level?

Now, you're not just saying that

to make me feel better?

Honest.

Arty.

Huh?

Come here.

Oh, no.

Now we know what I
saw in Morning Glory

was a small balloon
with flares attached to it...

but what was that?

I wouldn't know.

Well, I know it wasn't a...

A flying pie plate.

I... I wouldn't know.

No, Artie, more like a...

More like a flying
saucer, wouldn't you say?

I wouldn't say.

You want to tell
Washington about it,

use that telegraph, be my guest.

Not me. Not me.