The Wild Wild West (1965–1969): Season 4, Episode 12 - The Night of Miguelito's Revenge - full transcript

( dramatic western theme
playing )

Paper, mister?

We carry 'em all.
Topeka, uh, Fort Worth--

No thank you, sir.

A magazine is what
I'm looking for.

The Western Traveler's
Gazette, please.

Oh. Oh, yes, sir.

Ha! I just happen to have one,

the last copy.

All I want is one, sir.

Thank you.
Thank you.



Pardon me, sir.

Do you know where

the Samson and Delilah
Barbershop is?

Oh. Oh, yes, sir, it's--

It's right up
at the end of the street

on the other side.

Thank you.

Yeah, that's right,

an honest-to-goodness
lady barber.

Just like the other Delilah.

I was supposed
to meet a friend here.

Mr. Gordon?

Do you recognize that name,
Mr. Claymore?

( sighs )



You can sit down
and wait for him

if you have a mind to.

And while you're waiting,

I can give you
a first-class haircut.

Well, considering
what happened to Samson,

how 'bout just
a first-class shave?

( tense theme playing )

That's enough,
Delilah, my pearl.

( suspenseful theme playing )

For our purposes...

this is sharp enough.

( laughs )

( upbeat western theme playing )

WOMAN'S VOICE:
♪ Monday's child ♪

♪ Is fair of face ♪

♪ Tuesday's child
Is full of grace ♪

♪ Wednesday's child
Is full of woe ♪

♪ Thursday's child
Has far to go ♪

♪ Friday's child
Works hard for a living ♪

♪ Saturday's child
Is loving and giving ♪

♪ Sunday's child
Is bonny and brave ♪

( eerie carnival theme playing )

( screaming and cackling )

( cackling )

( mysterious theme playing )

Judge Fairlie.

Please.

In the name of heaven,
help me.

( witch cackles )

( footsteps approaching )

( ominous theme playing )

( tense action theme playing )

( man laughing )

( laughing )

Mister, when you settle in
to get some shuteye,

you don't fool around,
do you?

What happened to Delilah?

Delilah?
That's me, dearie.

You never mentioned it,

was your shave okay?

I have a feeling
it was a little close.

Oh. Uh, pardon me.

What happened
to the newsstand

that was over there?

Newsstand?

There was never
a newsstand there, mister.

( ominous theme playing )

Artie.

I'm afraid you're gonna
have to settle for me, Jim.

Hey, Jeremy.
How have you been?

Nice to see you.

Where's Artie?

He's on his way
to Washington right now, Jim.

They needed him
there fast.

Oh, well,
that's just great, colonel.

You haven't heard
the worst.

( laughs )

Don't tell me I'm gonna get
stuck with the likes of you

till Artie gets back.

Could turn out
quite well, Jim.

You two have worked
together before,

and Jeremy Pike knows
the Rocky Mountain situation

better than any other agent.

Which is just as well,

because things have started
to break wide open.

We've been
waiting for you, Jim.

The news has been coming in
hot and heavy over the wire.

And I assume that news
is Judge Fairlie's kidnapping.

How did you know?

I don't know,
I guess I had a dream.

"After presiding over
the Tenth Circuit District

"for 10 years,

"Judge Fairlie was appointed
to the court of claims

in January of last year."

Till he was kidnapped,
put in a fun house.

Whoever's behind it
sets up

the most elaborate plan
I've ever seen.

Just so that you could have
firsthand evidence of it, huh?

Well, so it would seem.

I mean,
the phony newsstand man

in a phony newspaper stand

sees to it that I get
a phony message

to meet Artie
in a barbershop

run by a phony barber.

By the fetching name
of Delilah.

That's delicious.

Now, Jim,
we checked that out.

And the only fun house
was with the Continental Circus,

which was headed
for Fiddler's Bend at the time,

a good 20 miles from here.

And in the hour
I was out,

there wasn't time
to transport me

from there back here.

Let me
ask you something.

Does it say anything

about Fairlie
taking a trip in there?

As a matter of fact,
it does.

He was getting ready
to go to Scotland

to represent
the United States

at the upcoming jurisprudence
convention in Edinburgh.

So?

So...

Thursday's child
has far to go.

So when my host
waved that sign

in front of my face,

he was telling me
about Fairlie.

Thursday's child
has far to go.

Thursday's child.

Thursday's child.

Isn't that
from that old rhyme,

"Monday's Child
Is Fair of Face"?

So?

Well, now, Fairlie was
kidnapped on Thursday.

And he was heading
for Scotland,

so he certainly had
far to go.

I can't help wondering

if there's some others
tied in here too.

What others?

Well, now, this whole
operation is so wild

that if Judge Fairlie
is Thursday's child,

I have a sneaking feeling

that there are other children
involved here too.

Monday's child
is fair of face.

Tuesday's child
is full of grace.

Wednesday's child is--

Monday's child.
Could that be Lynn Carstairs?

( huffs )

Lynn Carstairs,
the actress.

Fair of face
is hardly the word.

She's gorgeous.

And remember, Jim?

She disappeared
from the stage

at The Haymarket
last Monday.

MAN:
It was easily
the most sensational curtain

Miss Carstairs ever made.

There she was,

taking one bow after another,

when out of nowhere,
this swan seat

is lowered down
loaded with flowers.

You don't know who was
operating it, huh?

I don't know from Adam.

I figured maybe Miss Carstairs
had arranged it.

Anyway, she's game.

She steps into the swan seat
and up it goes.

Big applause,
I assume.

Brought down the house.

What an exit, huh?

Only when the swan seat
finally comes back,

no Carstairs.

And that was the last
seen of her.

( rustling )

Jim, whoever figured
this out

is a first-rate artist.

I traced the route
of the kidnappers

up across the fly gallery
onto the roof

and then onto
a kind of an elevator

that they rigged
to lower her to the ground.

And look what else
I found on the roof.

It's brandy.

My nose tells me

it's a very special
kind of brandy.

Cognac
de Grande Marguerite.

It's very interesting.

The head man was up there
sipping brandy.

While his underlings
are sweating out

the big operation.

Jerry,
your theory is starting

to prove its point.

A series
of child disappearances--

Monday's child
is fair of face.

Lynn Carstairs.

Tuesday's child
is full of grace.

Ivan Kalinkovitch,

first-rate ballet master,

called away from rehearsal
last Tuesday,

hasn't been seen since.

Wednesday's child
is full of woe.

There's only
one disappearance

on record
on Wednesday:

the famous jockey
Biff Trout.

Trailing the field
at Swanson Downs,

he goes
into the backstretch.

He rides
into a bank of smoke

that suddenly
appears mysteriously,

and the horse comes
out of it riderless.

No trace of Trout.

As I remember,
Golden Apple won that race,

paid off 16-to-1.

Great odds,
but that incident

doesn't seem to tie in
with the others.

No woe
in Biff's young life.

Happy-go-lucky jockey,

very successful
with the horses

and with the ladies.

Man about town.

Why didn't I think of it?
Not unhappiness woe.

Certainly. Whoa!

That takes care
of Wednesday's child.

Now, Thursday's child
has far to go.

Judge Fairlie.

( sack thumps )

( suspenseful theme playing )

Of course, you know that
all this mumbo jumbo

is designed to bring us
to the next order of business.

Friday's child
who works hard for a living.

We're being spoon-fed
a clue at a time,

all of it
leading us where?

Finding that out is where
the real fun comes in.

Jer, let's play along
with them.

Where was
that circus headed?

Um, Fiddler's Bend,
wasn't it?

Well, I'm gonna
check it out.

Cognac de Grande Marguerite.

I have a feeling
that out there somewhere,

there's a gentleman who
would be more than interested

in a newly-discovered
half dozen bottles

of Napoleon's exquisite brew.

( carnival theme playing )

One for you.

And one for me.

Ah, the lovely, adored

Miss Lynn Carstairs.

( whimpers )

I trust you are well,
madame.

( sobs )

And the incomparable
Ivan Petrovitch Kalinkovitch.

I hope we're not
interrupting a rehearsal.

Please, I cannot
endure confinement.

I-- I must get out of here.

Indeed.

Bars shouldn't trouble

a great artist like you,
Ivan Petrovitch.

Dance your way out.

( inhales )

( sighs )

Biff Trout.

One part man,
one part horse,

with a special stink

of stable and corruption
about him.

Oh, come on, doc.

As one jockey
to another,

what have I ever done
for you to get mad at me?

You exist, do you not?

For the time being,
let that be reason enough.

And our newest
and most distinguished guest,

that pillar
of the federal bench,

Justice Alonzo Fairlie.

I give you welcome, sir.

You're mad, of course.

Observe the classical
magistrate's mind

at work, Delilah.

The good judge
does not understand me,

ergo I am mad.

Allow me
to introduce myself, sir.

I am Dr. Miguelito
Loveless.

I plead guilty
to being dictatorial,

vain, short-tempered,
occasionally unreasonable,

and always, always
a helpless admirer

of all that is
rare and fine

in nature and art.

But mad?

No, sir,
that I will not permit.

What-- What are you
going to do with us?

For the answer to that,

we will have to wait
until our other guests arrive.

Let's drink
to that happy moment.

Pylo!

Yeah, doc?

Behold that most tragic
of all sights:

an empty bottle

of Cognac
de Grande Marguerite.

Yeah, and there ain't
no more, neither.

That's the last one.

Well, then get
some more, Pylo.

Don't ask me where,
just get it.

Yeah, sure, doc.

As I was saying, friends,

let us drink
to that happy time

when all our guests
are present.

( gentle, upbeat theme playing )

( whinnies )

Afternoon, ma'am.

Something I can
help you with?

A terrible thing
has happened.

This seat feels like
it's working loose.

Probably a bolt or two
sheared loose.

Could be a real danger.

Better let me
have a look.

Funny. Don't seem
to be loose, ma'am.

What's this handle for?

I don't know,

I was hoping
you could tell me.

( electricity buzzing )
( grunting )

( grunts )

( chuckles )

So that's what happens
when you pull that handle.

( laughs )

( tense theme playing )

Howdy, sheriff.

Howdy. Do something
to help you, mister?

Yes, sir.
Name's James West.

Mm-hm.

I'd like to ask
a few questions.

Oh, yeah.

Well, ask ahead, Mr. West.

Have any people missing
in this town?

No. Nobody's missing.

Fact is, nobody's left town
except Arnie Johnson.

Went to San Francisco
this morning.

You mean, there's no one
missing in Fiddler's Bend?

Are you sure of that?

Well, now, Mr. West,

there ain't enough folks

in this big,
driving metropolis of ours

that one can disappear

without it being
a seven-day wonder.

Oh, right.

Well, what about the carnival
that's due here?

When do you expect it?

Well, they should be
pulling in anytime now.

Out at the old, uh,
camp meeting grounds.

Well, thank you
for everything, sheriff.

You're welcome.

Sheriff, have you seen
Abbie in town this evening?

SHERIFF:
No, ma'am,
Mrs. Carter, I haven't.

Why, is something wrong?

MRS. CARTER:
He's been missing
since before noon.

Didn't even come home
for his dinner.

Missed his dinner?

Well, that sure
doesn't sound like Abbie.

I'll tell you what I'll do.

I'll get on it right away,
and I'll find him for you.

Don't you worry.

When you do,
sheriff,

you tell him
I'll be waiting at home.

Excuse me, ma'am.
How does your--

How does your husband
make a living?

When he tends to his work,
he's a blacksmith.

Friday's child
works hard for a living.

Sheriff.

You better list Mr. Carter
among the missing.

Now, friend,
here's a snappy number

that them high-living
customers of yours

are gonna go for
hook, line and sinker.

Cluny aperitif.

I might incline
to doubt that, mister.

Well, now, I'll tell you
what I'm gonna do, friend.

I'm gonna throw in
a bottle of absinthe liqueur

plus a bottle of Chablis

with every case
of champagne that you order,

and I can't say it
fairer than that, friend.

Foreigner, ain't you?

Hey, now, wait a minute.

Now, I'm as American
as Paddy's pig

born on a Fourth of July.

My ancestors fought
in the Revolutionary War

and a few more
before that, even.

Now, just 'cause I deal
in wines, liqueurs,

cordials, and cognacs

isn't a reason for you
to get so suspicious.

Yeah, sure.
The point I'm getting at,

my customers
wouldn't know aperitifs

or any of them other
fancy drinks

if it come right up
and bit 'em on the leg.

Well, then I take it
that I'm safe in assuming

that you wouldn't
be interested

in Cognac
de Grande Marguerite.

PYLO:
Well, maybe he ain't,

but I sure am.

You know,
I've been looking for you

ever since I read your ad
in the morning paper.

How much?

Well, friend, I don't know
if you're aware

of the fact
that this merchandise

is just a trifle
on the expensive side.

I said, how much?

Well, in American money,

there's a special
for this week only: $124.

So you see,
it's a little--

It's okay.

Now, just hand it over.

Excuse me, friend,

but this bottle
is the only sample I got,

and I can't
let you have it.

But if you'll just tell me

where I can deliver
your bottle,

we'll have it over
to your--

Okay, dude.

I said, hand it over.

Or I'm going to blow a hole
right through your derby.

Well, you do that,

and I'm liable
to drop this bottle.

And we'll both be
in big trouble.

( laughs )

No, don't do that.

Well, you tell me where
I can deliver the merchandise,

and you make it snappy,
friend,

because I'm an old
butterfingers from way back.

Yeah, yeah. Uh...

Deliver it to the Wells Fargo
office in Denver, huh?

And make sure
it gets there by tomorrow.

It's as good as there.

( sighs )

Okay.

Tomorrow, Saturday, Denver.

Friend?

Friend?

Who would you say

is Denver's most loving
and giving citizen?

Sounds like a description
of old Cyrus Barlow.

Exactly what I was thinking.

Cyrus Barlow.

( sighs )

Oh, lovely.

Simply lovely.

Uh-huh.

How splendid.

To forever remain

at the peak of your beauty.

( chuckles )

Never to grow old,

wither away.

Mr. Barlow, sir?

Yes, Wallas?

You have a caller, sir.

Oh, no, no.

Not now.

Wallace, you know that
these new specimens

just arrived.

I'm very sorry, sir,

but he did say
that it was quite urgent.

Oh, well.

Let's--

Let's see who it is.

Jeremy Pike,

United States
Secret Service.

PIKE:
That's right,
Mr. Barlow.

Well...

Well, well.

Mr. Pike.

What could the Secret Service

possibly want with me?

Well, sir, we have
every reason to believe

that someone is going to make
an attempt to kidnap you.

Ki-- Kidnap me?

( laughs )

Mr. Pike, I--

I find that rather amusing.

Why in the world
would anybody want

to try to kidnap me?

Well, sir, it's a rather
long and complicated story.

Well...

This promises to be
the high spot in my morning.

It all started
with a lady barber named Delilah

and my partner Jim West.

( laughs )

Mr. Pike,
I have great respect

for the United States
Secret Service,

but how you could possibly
jump to the conclusion

that I am Saturday's child?

But it's got to be, sir.

"Loving and giving."

Now, that describes
your career

of giving away
all those millions.

Yes, but I'm an old--

No, no, no, no.
Please, now.

Go along with me

and give me every detail
that you can

about your daily routine.

So confoundedly dull.

Not to anyone who's
bound and determined

to kidnap you, sir.

( moans )

After breakfast,
my chairman of the board

and a gaggle of directors
barge in.

I have to spend
an hour or so

pretending
to listen to them.

Matter of fact,
they left just before you...

After your business
conference,

what then?

Drive
to the stockmen's club.

Oh, on the way, I, uh,

usually stop for a flower
at old Sadie's.

Flower lady.
Heh, heh, heh.

And, uh, then maybe
I discuss a little politics

with Henry the shoeshine man.

Excuse me, sir.
Your carriage is waiting.

Um...

Mr. Barlow will be

15 minutes late
this morning.

Yes, sir.

Mr. Barlow,
how would you like

to devote the entire day
to your insects?

There you are,
Mr. Barlow.

Better than new.

Fine job, my boy.

Fine job.

Thank you.

Mr. Barlow,
the next stop is always

Sadie's flower stand.

( grunts )

DRIVER:
Whoa.

Good morning,
Mr. Barlow.

Uh, what have you got for me
this morning, Sadie?

Sadie's got a cold,
Mr. Barlow.

I'm filling in for her.

My, what a strange,

pungent smell
this flower has.

It's rather heady.

( tense, ominous theme playing )

( crowd laughing )

MAN 1:
Did I ever tell you
about Vernon Trimble?

Man 2:
What did you say
his name was?

MAN 1:
Who?

Why, Vernon Trimble.

I never
heard of him.

( crowd laughs )

LOVELESS:
Now can I tell you my story
about the two fleas?

Absolutely not.

Very well,
since you press me.

Seems the two fleas

went to the theater
one night,

and as they left,

one flea turned
to the other and said,

"Shall we walk
or take a dog?"

( crowd laughs )

LOVELESS:
I must tell you
about my friend West.

PUPPET MASTER:
Why? What about him?

I went to his funeral
the other day.

There was no one there.

PUPPET MASTER:
Yeah? How come?

He wanted to keep it
a secret service.

( laughing )

Hi, handsome.

How about buying
little Lila a drink?

I'd like to, Lila,
but not right now.

I'm not Lila, she is.

( both laugh )

( ominous theme playing )

( man laughing )

LOVELESS:
Tell me, Tiny,
when is a door not a door?

TINY:
I don't know, Homer.
When is a door not a door?

LOVELESS:
Why, when it's ajar,
of course.

( man laughs )

Tell me, Homer,

when is a ventriloquist's dummy
not a ventriloquist's dummy?

When it's Dr. Loveless,
of course.

You've outdone yourself
this time, Dr. Loveless.

I thank you, Mr. West.

( tempo increases )

( chord continues )

Dead?

No, no, my dear.

Temporarily unconscious,
that's all.

Well, why not
polish him off?

Why not, indeed?

Why not throw away
the third act

of Don Giovanni?

Why not slice the Mona Lisa
into half a dozen sections,

chip the Koh-i-noor diamond
into a dozen inferior stones?

Delilah...

My pearl.

There is
an exquisitely correct

time and place
for everything,

and Mr. West's
time and place

are firmly fixed
in my mind.

MAN [OVER GRAMOPHONE]:
♪ What shall we do
With a drunken sailor? ♪

♪ What shall we do
With a drunken sailor? ♪

♪ What shall we do
With a drunken sailor ♪

♪ Early in the morning? ♪

♪ Put him in the longboat
Till he's sober ♪

♪ Put him in the longboat
Till he's sober ♪

♪ Put him in the longboat
Till he's sober ♪

♪ Early in the morning ♪

( thumps )

♪ Heave-ho and up she rises ♪

♪ Heave-ho and up she rises ♪

♪ Heave-ho and up she rises ♪

♪ Early in the morning ♪

♪ What shall we do
With a drunken sailor? ♪

♪ What shall we do
With a drunken sailor? ♪

♪ What shall we do
With a drunken sailor ♪

♪ Early in the morning? ♪

♪ Pull out the plug
And wet him all over ♪

♪ Pull out the plug
And wet him all over ♪

♪ Pull out the plug
And wet him all over ♪

♪ Early in the morning ♪

( ominous theme playing )

( water trickling )

( suspenseful theme playing )

( cheering and applause )

I'd like a ticket, please.

Sorry, neighbor.
No performance tonight.

( applause )

Well, I'll, uh--

I'll take a ticket anyway.

Okay.

Thank you.

This way, please.

Thank you.

( cheering and applause )

( whistling )

( suspenseful theme playing )

Ahhh.

At long last,
you are here.

Of course, Mr. West,

there is something

of the salmon in you.

The fiercer,
the more impossible

the cataracts that face you,

the more furiously
you swim through them

to win your goal.

All right, Loveless,
what's it all about?

A very simple plan, Mr. West.
It's called retribution.

Punishment, if you please,

for all those
who have incurred my wrath.

In short, a trial.

With you being judge, jury,

prosecutor and executioner,
right?

No, not at all.

I am prosecutor,
that's true.

But they
are the executioners.

Here we have the learned judge.

( organ continues )

What about the jury?

Oh, the finest
that money can buy.

( sheep bleating )

Twelve good men.

A typical jury.

Now, let the first witness
approach the bar of judgment.

( plays chords )

Miss Lynn Carstairs.

I had a friend,

an earnest young protégé,
whom I sent to you for help

in establishing her
as an actress.

What was your answer?

Oh, please,
if I had only known.

You sneered at her,
didn't you?

You called her graceless,
a scullery maid.

Jury, what say you?

( bleating )

The death penalty.

So ordered.

Ivan Petrovitch Kalinkovitch,

to the bar of justice.

Listen, doctor,
I did not know

it was your ballet.

I will gladly admit
to the whole world

that you were
the composer, not I.

Jury, what is
the fitting punishment

for one who pirates
another's creation?

( bleating )

The supreme penalty?
So ordered.

Justice Alonzo Fairlie.

The death sentence
comes very easily

to your lips, doesn't it?

When the facts
warrant it, yes.

Facts?

It wasn't facts
you ordered executed,

it was a dear friend.

And for that-- Jury?

( bleating )

The jury finds that the facts

now warrant your death.

So ordered.

Biff Trout,

the peerless and incomparable
rider of horses.

Tell the jury what is
the worst crime

a jockey can commit.

Look, doc, so I threw a race?

I'll make it up to you, honest.

You preposterous fool.

It's not the $100,000
you robbed me of,

it's the principle
of uncorrupted sport.

Jury!

( bleating )

Disbarred from further
participation in life.

So ordered.

The case of Abbie Carter.

What did I ever
do to you?

You made the mistake
of being a foreman

on Judge Fairlie's jury.

You were
the stouthearted one

who held out
for the guilty verdict,

weren't you?

Jury!

( bleating )

I hope your affairs
are in order, Mr. Carter.

What about Saturday and Sunday?

You seem to have run out
of enemies, Loveless.

That's too bad.

Think so, huh?

Saturday's child
is loving and giving.

Cyrus Barlow.

Who's the head man
around here?

Blame me for taking you
away from your toys, sir.

My what?

You spend your days
collecting insects

and giving away millions.

Certainly a rich man's
eccentric playthings.

I see.

And for committing
these unpardonable crimes?

You will be tried
by a jury of your peers.

Well, that's a fine-looking
set of jurors.

You have any objection

to my pleading
my own case before them?

Ladies and gentlemen
of the jury,

I've been accused
of being addicted

to collecting insects
and giving away millions,

and, uh, it's true.

They're both habits
that I can't seem to break.

Now, in collecting insects,

I've never made
a single blessed enemy.

As to the matter
of giving away my millions,

I've had nothing but trouble.

For instance,

you tell the jury,

what was it that I did

to offend you?

I appealed to you
for financing

for my project to make
all men equal in stature,

and you laughed.

I did.

At a plan
to increase the height

of little men like you?

No.

A plan to shrink the height
of big men like you.

And for turning down
my project...

( bleating )

Of course.

Death is the only
possible verdict.

And now,

last but certainly not least,

Sunday's child
is bonny and brave.

Who would that be, Mr. West?

How many guesses do I have?

I'll give you a hint.

He's been a pebble in my shoe
for as long as I can remember,

with an irritating capacity

for upsetting
my most inspired plans.

( suspenseful theme playing )

A silver-winged fritillary.

Look at him.

In the shadow of death,

and he's still
collecting butterflies.

( fast action theme playing )

Delilah,

now!

LOVELESS:
There will surely be

another time, gentlemen.

Surely another time.

Another time.

Another time.

Another time.

"And the local police
quickly rounded up

"the other members
of the Loveless gang

who managed to escape,
including Delilah."

You, uh, getting
all this, Jim?

Oh, I haven't missed
a word, Jerry.

With the exception
of Dr. Loveless,

who made a surprise
reappearance,

riding on an elephant
with 42 dancing bears

and a chorus of swans singing
"Old Dog Tray" a cappella.

Huh?
( laughs )

What?

( laughs )

You know, I've been thinking
about poor old Artie,

subjected to the perils
of Washington.

What do you say we have
a drink in his honor?

I'll drink to that, Jim.

What do you say
we pour one for Artie?

Why not?

For Artie.

To absent friends. Salute.

( glass slams )

( upbeat western theme playing )