The Wild Wild West (1965–1969): Season 2, Episode 7 - The Night of the Poisonous Posey - full transcript

While on vacation, West and Gordon wander into the town of Justice, Nevada. After an unexpectedly exciting greeting by the citizens, they start to notice an unusual number of infamous international criminals around town. Artie goes undercover to investigate this mysterious gathering while Jim gets into trouble confronting the villains directly.

Oh, smell that, huh?

What?

That air.

It's as invigorating as a bottle

of the finest chilled bubbly.

And this... Ah.

You know we are, Jim?

Uh...

"Justice, Nevada,
population 132."

Wrong. We are in the
heartland of America.

Serene, unhurried, far
from the madding throng.



All right,

you jaspers get off your horses,

real nice and easy-like.

Uh, sheriff,

I know this doesn't
sound very original,

but don't you have us
confused with two others?

Sam.

Them are the two
road agents, all right.

Bloodthirsty murdering varmints.

No, no, no, wait a minute.

We all know how you feel,

but we're gonna handle this

strictly according to the book.

All right, you two, this way.



Bring 'em along, boys.

What were you saying
about this town, Artie?

Quiet, unhurried.

I sure was wrong, wasn't I?

What do you suppose
they've got in mind?

I don't know.

I've got a wild idea.

Sam.

This is an old-fashioned
necktie party.

And whereas you two sidewinders

went and committed armed robbery

of the Elkhart
camelback stagecoach,

and whereas,

in the commission
of said robbery,

you two committed mayhem,

pistol whippin' and murder.

Therefore,

I sentence you both
to hang by the neck.

Don't do it, sheriff.

You know, I've seen
some bad sports in my time,

but you two...

You two are the all-fired,

low-downest absolute limit.

You know, I think I must
have come in late, Jim.

Weren't these gentlemen
doing their best to hang us

just a couple of minutes ago?

That was the impression I got.

Hang you?

Is that what you thought
we were aiming to do?

Sam, go.

You mean to tell me

that all of this
Danny Deever bit

back here was just...

Play acting. Just play acting.

And all in the spirit of fun,

as anyone in his right
mind ought to have seen.

Sam.

"Whereas this thriving
community of justice..."

All right.

All right, now, let's don't
run it, plumb into the ground.

"Whereas the thriving
community of Justice

"is now equipped to cope
with any crime problem

"by said community,

"having gone and hired itself

"a first-class
sheriff..." to wit, me.

"And whereas

"it's been a long time
since there's been any call

"for a town celebration.

"Therefore, this week is
hereby officially proclaimed

"as Law and Order
Week in Justice, Nevada."

And since you two varmints...

I-I mean, you two gents

were the first to come by

since the town justice
passed the rulin'...

The key to the city.

Mm-hm.

Uh...

Ladies and gentlemen, we...

we're sorry.

We really wanna
thank you very much

for this, uh, signal honor.

My friend and I
are really deeply

touched by...

Artie, I think, uh,

I think we hurt their feelings.

You know,

it's the free sarsaparilla
that always gets me.

Look, we're on vacation anyway.

What do you say we
just spend a day or two

right here at Justice?

Bingo, dancing in the streets.

How can we go wrong?

Dispénseme, señor.

Oh, you will please
excuse me, señores.

Of course.

What's the matter?

Uh, nothing.

You know, I-I have
a sneaky feeling

I've seen that gentleman
someplace before.

The question is where.

Yeah, me, too.

That's why I stayed turned away.

Not a very comfortable
feeling, either.

Artie, I'm famished.

What do you say we...?

Artie.

Artie.

Hmm?

What?

Listen to me.

Don't move.

Okay.

I'm awake and I'm not moving.

Now what?

And if your head should itch...

It doesn't itch.

Good, then don't scratch.

Now it itches.

There's something
on the pillow, Artie,

next to your head.

What is it?

Well, let's say it's
smaller than a breadbox

and larger than a tsetse fly.

Would it be likely to be used
equally by both men and women?

Forget it, Artie.

I-I'm gonna count to three,

and then I want you
to roll off that bed.

One.

Two.

Three.

I must say that's a
rather interesting way

to wake up from a nap.

Now that it's all
over, what was that?

Now, that was a tarantula.

A ta... A ta... A tarantula.

I think, uh, your furry friend

has solved the question

of who the gentleman
was that we bumped into.

You mean, eh...?

Mm-hmm.

Gallito.

Latin America's contribution

to the world of sudden death.

The number-one killer
wherever Spanish is spoken.

He is wanted in just about

every Latin American
country in the world.

His trademark is the tarantula.

You all finished, Jim?

I think I can match
you in spades.

I'm listening.

How about Cyrill the Firebug,

king of the oiled-soaked rag
and the well-placed candle.

Also wanted by the
police of several continents

for a few hundred fires
of mysterious origin.

What a coincidence.

A top professional killer
and Mr. Fire himself,

both in Justice, Nevada.

And both of 'em wearing
mourning bands on their sleeves.

Hey, Jim, do my eyes
deceive me, or is that, uh,

Snakes Tolliver
in the procession?

That's Snakes, all right.

The guy playing caboose
is, uh, mm-hm, little Pinto.

Sergei from Minsk in Russia?

Brutus the Bonebreaker,
scourge of the Caribbean?

About the only criminals

I don't see in that procession
that are well-known,

are Ascot Sam from
New York, Irish Mantell

and the Seattle Fire Kid.

Listen, uh,

I know we're supposed
to be on vacation,

but do you think it might be

in the interest of
national security

if we were to find out
who might have died

to bring such a
jolly crew together?

Definitely, Artie.

I'm gonna fire off a
telegram to Washington

and try and find out
what this is all about.

Hey, you do that.

I'll stay here and
keep my eyes peeled.

Oh, howdy, mister.

What can I do for you?

Uh, I must say you run

a great little
one-man town here.

Uh, I take that
very kindly of you...

Unforgivably careless
of me, gentlemen.

I dropped my gun.

I do hope no one was injured.

Butterfingers.
Now see here, Mr...

Jones, Robert Jones
of Kenosha, Wisconsin.

Well, see what you done
when you dropped that gun?

Now, I'm gonna bill you
for the cost of replacing it.

Oh, but my dear sheriff, I
would insist on that myself.

Now if you'd be good
enough to tell me the amount...

I'm impounding this gun too,

until after the celebration

and yours too.

You two just don't realize

how dangerous
these weapons can be.

Oh, yeah, and
that trick derringer

you got up your sleeve there

while we're at it.

Sheriff, can you tell me

where I can find the
nearest telegraph?

Grandford Junction.

That's 40 miles right
square dab due west of here,

but I wouldn't depend on any...

Out of my way, butterfingers.

Uh...

Our horses, I believe.

Ain't no argument
about that, mister.

As deputy sheriff,

I'm just impounding
'em, that's all.

You people sure go in

for a lot of impounding
around here.

No livestock
allowed on the street

during our big celebration.

That's a special ordinance

passed by the town
counsel and the mayor.

I see. Well, that's just fine.

Because when I
talk to the mayor,

I'll see that this
ordinance is...

No. No, don't tell me.

Yep, I'm the mayor
of Justice too.

Receipt for two
horses, gentlemen.

Tsk.

Oh, another receipt
for another gun.

It is a sad business, señor.

Death is always sad,

but when it comes
to an old friend...

Might I have a last glimpse
of the dear departed?

Oh, alas, the coffin is sealed.

We meet again.

Small world, isn't it?

Practically microscopic.

What is it, Brutus?

Our friend here likes to send
telegrams to Washington.

I can't help wondering why.

Let's find out.

Why?

Oh, I know you'll
find out eventually.

You see, I'm, um,

I'm a secret service agent,

and I was wiring my home office

for reinforcements.

You have a remarkably
unfunny sense of humor, sir.

Pal, this your wreath?

Yes.

Paper flowers.

Well, it was just a
superficial relationship.

In spite of which, you yearn

for a final glimpse
of the deceased.

Does seem odd, doesn't it?

I think we should
indulge our friend,

don't you?

We're scheduled to have a
board meeting very shortly.

I think our chairman would
like to decide personally

what to do about you.

You know what I think?

I think I...

set him on fire,

just to start him talking.

Ahh...

Just hold it right there.

Do listen to him, sir.

I can promise you
you're going to die,

but if you listen,

not immediately.

You've been fighting again.

We had visitor.

You seem to have
caused considerable havoc.

I guess I'm just an
active growing boy.

Your name?

James West.

And yours?

I'll ask all the
questions, Mr. West.

Oh, come now.

Turnabout's only fair play.

Laughing boy there
says I'm going to die.

I can assure you of that.

First, let me introduce you

to the gentlemen who
will take care of this matter.

Gallito, you know.

On my right, Brutus.

He dearly loves to smash things.

And Cyrill,

who loves to play with matches.

Snakes Tolliver, an
explosives expert,

and Pinto, a very
quiet gentleman,

who has gone into considerable
research in the area of pain.

Inflicting it, of course.

And, finally, Sergei from
the steppes of Russia.

He dearly loves to eat.

Someday he'll swallow
the whole world.

Hope it won't give
him indigestion.

I'm delighted to
meet you, gentlemen.

What an innocent location

for a summit conference
of world crime.

Justice, Nevada.

Especially during
Law and Order Week.

The idea tickled
my sense of humor.

There's still one
more introduction.

I am Lucrece Posey,
chairman of the board,

and the first item of business

will be to call this meeting...

I'm touched.

Is this for me?

Chairman of the board
should have a gavel.

Everyone knows that.

Use it in good health.

Thank you, Snakes.

I hereby call this meeting...

You call the meeting
to order, Snakes.

Why me? I... I'm
not the chairman.

Brutus dear,

put that wonderful
glove of yours to work.

You don't think I had anything
to do with that, now, do you?

Relax, Snakes. Stop
cringing. Ow. Ah.

Poor boy.

Let us be seated, gentlemen.

Remove the body, will you?

Miss Lucrece Posey.

Any relation to that
other lovely lady, Lucrezia,

that used a poison
ring to such great effect?

I hereby call this
meeting to order,

and the first order of business
is to have you removed

from the docket, Mr. West.

Ta-da.

Ascot Sam.

In the flesh.

It is you, isn't it?

Well, it certainly ain't
your kid brother Edith.

Ascot Sam.

Yes, dear lady?

Brutus will perform
the introductions later.

Meanwhile, we have a
little unfinished business

to take care of.

Of course, dear lady.

Uh, hold it!

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Because that's James
West, that's why.

That we know. So?

So that's the guy in charge

of the government's
travel agency,

that's all.

I still owe you a
little vote of thanks

for that free trip that
you arranged for me

up to Leavenworth,
you no good...

No.

So you're the Mr. West,

from the secret service, hmm?

I tried to tell your boys that,

but no one would listen.

Mr. West, I have one
question to put to you,

but meanwhile, I'll fill you in

with a little
background material.

We're living in an
era of consolidation,

amalgamation, centralization.

Businesses large
and small are merging,

avoiding wasteful duplication.

Dreary little nations
are awakening

to the advantages of
combining their resources

into one powerful super nation.

But there's one
element of society

that has lagged behind

in this plunge
towards consolidation.

Mr. West?

Crime.

Exactly.

Every one of these dots
represents a criminal apparatus,

and there are thousands
of them, each one separate

from every other one,

making it easy prey for
the well-organized forces

of law and order
that surround them.

And this is the way it could be,

must be and will be.

Six regional organizations.

Each one directing,

taking care of crime
in each of its areas,

each one combining to form

a super crime cartel
of the entire world.

And these are the
six regional leaders.

I organized the plan,

arranged to meet with
them here, discussed details,

and to see that our
meeting was kept secret.

Now my question is,
who tipped you off?

Do you mind repeating
that last question?

I said who tip...

Why should I repeat it?

Because when you say tipped,

your nose crinkles adorably.

Did you know that?

Mr. West.

And another point
I'd like to make,

if you'd quit hiding
behind that tomboy outfit...

I mean really, you could
be quite spectacular.

Why don't you get yourself
into something silky and soft

and, uh... And revealing?

I will give you one
more chance, Mr. West,

to get back to my question.

All right.

You get the answer
to your question,

and I get what?

One of Gallito's
less lingering deaths.

If that's the best you can do,

I'll take it.

The name of the fink,
who tipped me off...

The fink is...

Sergei, Pinto,
Mr. West is exhausted.

See that he's
cooled off properly.

I will help them... Ah, ah.

I'll inform you as to
what you've missed.

You know, Sergei,
looking over this setup,

gives me the idea of how
to cool off this West fella,

like he'll never be cooled
off again. Heh, heh.

You know, Brutus, uh,
I am not the type guy

to say that Miss Posey
does not know her apples,

but, uh...

If it was up to me,
I would not rest

until I had found
out who the fink is.

Miss Posey is quite shrewd, Sam.

She'll unearth the rascal,
you can depend on it.

Oh, I'm quite certain of that.

I certainly hope so.

Well, that was a nice workout.

Why, cease and
desist for a moment.

I thought I heard a
noise in that glove.

You know, Sam,

it's barely possible I
may know who the fink is.

Excuse me, amigos.
Am I interrupting?

Oh, no, no, no.

Brutus here is just doing
a little punching is all.

Well, then...

Then please to continue.

As the saying goes,
"scratch one fink."

I hope you appreciate now

what an all-fired clever
rig this is, Mr. West.

I do, I do,

but you shouldn't have
gone to so much trouble.

Oh, no. No, no.
No trouble at all.

No, heh.

You see, these two
300-pound cakes of ice

are being held
in place by this...

By this one rope.

Now you'll notice
this lamp here.

Now I'm going to set the
lamp right under the rope

that's holding up
them cakes of ice.

I noticed that, too.

A little too close
to the rope, isn't it?

Now you're beginning
to get the big idea.

You see, the lamp
starts charring the rope,

the rope starts partin',
finally gives way,

and down comes
two big cakes of ice...

Heh, heh, your
own private glacier.

Right into your lap.

You ought to patent that.

Yep. Just might. Heh, heh.

Well, I figure it'll
be about 45 minutes

before anything really
interesting happens around here.

I'll be back by then.

Now you just take it easy.

Relax, hear? Heh, heh, heh, heh.

If there is anything that is
distressing to me, Sergei,

it's to have the knowledge

that there is a
fink in our midst.

You are one hundred
per cent right, Ascot.

Maybe more.

For our fink, death is too good.

He should be slowly killed.

Only question:

Who is the one?

Yeah, I must say, if
there is a question,

that is the big one, all right.

And, uh, Miss Posey
does not seem inclined

to determine who it is.

Great jumpin' balls
of Saint Elmo's fire.

How did that happen?

I will give you small hint.

The one who did this
likes to play with matches.

He is a fink,

and his first name
begin with Cyrill.

As the saying goes,

"scratch another fink."

Now, where is everybody?

You know I don't
like this sort of thing.

Where's Gallito?

Poor chap had a most
regrettable accident.

And Cyrill?

He had accident too.

Now, look here.
Once and for all, I...

Da-da.

Ascot Sam.

Well, who else but?

Aargh.

Who's the big guy with
the little laugh, lady?

He claims to be Ascot Sam.

Claims?

Now, Miss Posey,
that word disturbs me

a little bit more than somewhat.

Now, let's settle
this once and for all.

Ascot Sam was
plugged in the shoulder

some years back,

so let us see who has the scar.

This is gonna be
one of those days

where nothing goes right.

Jim.

Boy, I can honestly say

I am happy to see ya.

And how do you
feel about old Pinto?

Law and Order Week. Come on out.

Help celebrate.

Let's not forget the big
prize in this deal, Artie.

Let's split and get Miss Posey.

We'll go to the funeral parlor

from different routes.

Right.

I kinda wish I had
my gun with me.

Makes a nice security symbol.

Trouble with you
is you're spoiled.

Get goin'.

Hey, what's going on here?

Get down.

Yeah, manhandling
an officer of the law.

You in big trouble, mister.

Not as much as you're gonna be

if you don't keep
your head down.

Oh, depriving an
officer of the law

of his legal weapons!

You're diggin' your
grave deeper, mister.

That fella's
shootin' real bullets.

He sure is.

What do you got in here?

Blanks, of course.

Brutus.

Got four shots left that I
can't miss from this range.

If your finger moves,
you're a dead man, Brutus.

Hand that rifle to me.

Hyah.

Well, now.

It was all your
idea. Do you like it?

Very nice.

They're all gone, Miss Posey.

Please call me
Lucrece. Won't you, Jim?

And you're the only one left.

You've come for
me, then, have you?

Mm-hm.

All right.

Let a lady do a few
last-minute things,

will you, Jim?

Why not?

Thank you.

Artie!

Jim.

The stagecoach. Did it leave?

Yeah, off in a cloud of dust,

and guess who was enlisted
amongst the passengers.

Oh, go on. Surprise me.

Ascot Sam.

I tell you, that man
used every dirty,

disabling trick in the books
before I could mark him

signed, sealed and
delivered into the pokey.

Artie, you didn't see an
entrancing feminine thing

board that stage, did you?

It was in there.

In fact, it was my pleasure

to help the lovely
creature aboard.

That lovely creature
was Miss Posey.

Listen, some vacation.

I'm gonna put a sign
up outside my bedroom,

"Do not disturb
until Christmas."

Crawl into that bed...

Miss Posey?

Hyah.

Are you sure you don't
wanna join us, Artie?

Are you kidding?

After five hours in that saddle

just catching up
with that stage?

All I want now is a
little rest and quiet,

and darn little of that.

Well, the important thing is

Miss Posey's in the
pokey, thanks to you.

Oh, yeah. Three cheers for me.

Artie, I think you might get

some kind of
commendation for it.

Nah.

Hey, you really think so?

Well, of course.

Miss Posey was
a very dangerous...

Speaking about commendations.

Another assignment right away?

Kucknik pass?

That's six hours on a
horse going just one way.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no.