All language subtitles for Murphy Brown s05e17 Trickster, We Hardly Knew Ye

Good morning, everybody.

Nice to see you. We're all here on time
and ready for... Jim.

There's no Jim.

Where's Jim? He's never late. I hope
he's not having breakfast with David

Brinkley again.

The last time that happened, they got
into a fight over whose voice was

and Jim came in with a Denver omelet
down the front of his shirt.

All right, Miles.

He's in his office with Doris. She came
by to talk to him this morning. I think

it's about their dog Trickster again.

Oh, no.

Another trickster emergency. Let me
guess. He put on a few pounds and can't

into his Ralph Lauren dog coat.

I hate that spoiled little hyperactive
rat.

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Trickster is not a rat.

Rats don't try to initiate a
relationship with your leg when you walk

room.

Come on, now. This could be serious.

Maybe the cat next door beat him up
again.

You all are terrible.

Trickster is the cutest little Scottish
terrier I've ever seen.

No, your problem is you're just not dog
people.

Hey, don't talk to me about dogs. I had
a golden retriever when I was growing

up. Butterscotch. Now, that was a dog.
You could do anything to him.

Ride on him, put gum in his hair. He'd
never make a fuss.

Great dog.

Not like Trickster, that yapping little
flea condo.

Good morning, Paul.

I'm sorry to keep Jim from the meeting,
but I'm afraid it was unavoidable. Yes,

we apologize.

It seems... Well, our dog died this
morning.

Yes, I know. It leaves one speechless.

Oh, Doris, Jim, I'm so sorry.

Yes. We're fine.

I'm really sorry. Really, truly sorry.

Well, this is a blow.

Trickster was, uh,

uh... Well, where do you find the words?
I don't know where.

It was quite unexpected.

This morning I called the trickster, but
he didn't come, and I finally found him

lying up against the clothes dryer,
peaceful and toasty warm, with his

hamburger squeak toy still in his mouth.

You loved his burger, buddy.

Well, I certainly understand how you
feel. I had a dog myself, Butterscotch.

course, he was no trickster, no siree.

Thank you, Murphy.

You bet.

Yes, well, life goes on, and we have a
news broadcast to do. Allow me to walk

Doris down to the car, and then I'll be
back to start the meeting.

Thank you, one and all. And I'm sure if
Trickster were here now to feel all this

love, he'd be on his hind legs doing
that little jig here.

Steady, dear.

Excuse me.

I can't believe it.

Trickster's gone.

Yeah, just like that.

He's dead.

Where do you want to have lunch?
Everywhere I look, I'm reminded that

birth and death walk hand in hand.

So as we turn our attention to the
budding tulips, remember also that they

will soon wither, die, and once again
become part of this cold, gray planet

as it hurdles toward its inevitable
destruction.

And that's my commentary on spring.

For all of us here at FYI, goodbye.

And we're clear.

Uh, Jim?

About your commentary. Oh, yes. I made a
few last -minute changes, Miles. I hope

you didn't mind. Looking at my earlier
version, I found it a bit too fluffy.

Well, there was certainly nothing fluffy
about that rewrite, was there, guys? I

liked it, Jim. Especially your slam at
the Easter Bunny. Boy, that was long

overdue.

Last one to fill is in the rotten egg.

Thanks for the invitation, Slugger, but
not tonight.

Are you feeling okay, buddy?

Well, never better.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take
this makeup off.

I feel like I'm wearing a death mask.

I'm really worried about Jim.

Do you think the way he's acting has
anything to do with Trickster being, you

know... What?

Dead? Stiff? Doing the dirt dance?

Come on. It's been a week. Don't worry
about Jim. He's fine.

Fine? He's fine. Right now, all over
America, people are putting on their

bonnets and throwing themselves in the
traffic.

Okay, so the man makes one slightly
overdramatic commentary. Big deal. Oh,

on. It's obvious.

Jim is repressing his feelings of
sadness and abandonment about Trickster

And now they're starting to surface in
other subconscious ways.

And maybe his shoes are just too tight.
Did you ever think about that, Dr.

Freud? Okay, listen, that's fine. You
know, I understand why you're defending

Jim. I'm talking about expressing
emotions, and both you and Jim have

in those areas. It's just a dog, and not
even a good dog. You want to talk about

a good dog? Fine, let's talk about my
butter... Enough with the butternuts or

butterscotch or butterball already!

His name was Butterscotch.

Look, why don't you guys take off? I'm
going to stay here and talk to Jim

Oh, Frank, please. Look, I'm just going
to talk to him. Now go to Phil, get at

the table.

And don't worry, I know what I'm doing.

Well, last time Frank said that to me
was in Maui, right before he tried to

that eel.

Oh, still here, Frank?

Yeah. I wanted to talk to you for a sec.

Jim, sometimes in life, something
happens. that

we're not equipped to deal with.

Frank, are you having tax problems
again?

Well, yeah, but this isn't about me.

Jim, sometimes we can lose something
that we care very deeply about. Frank,

dog was buried a week ago. I'm
completely over it. You are not over it.

Jim, Doris called me. She said you're
not sleeping, you're walking the halls

night long. It isn't this pleasant. My
wife telling my friends private

information about me.

wears the pantyhose with the extra
support tummy panel. There. There is no

easy way to say this, so I thought you
might like to go and see my therapist.

Oh, that's rich.

Frank, we're talking about a dog.

Yes, it was sad. Now the dog is gone,
and I'm over it. And even if I weren't,

seeing a therapist is not something we
dials do.

My Aunt Delia Dial was mad as a hatter,
but she knew her place.

Up in the attic until after sundown.
That's the doctor.

Here is the number in case you want
someone to talk to.

Totally between you and my therapist. No
one here has to know we even had this

conversation. As far as I'm concerned,
we never did.

Night, guys. Have a good week. Oh, and
by the way, Jim, the guys in the sound

booth voted three to one that you should
talk to Frank Schrenk.

Oh, I see you're busy. I'll come back
another day. No, no, no. Just done. Come

in. Trying to shuffle around all my
clients.

I'm afraid some days I think the most
challenging thing about being a

is keeping track of all the
cancellations.

Hello.

I'm Lee Larkin, and you are... Jim Dial?

All right.

I mean, yeah.

I'm sorry.

I'm a little thrown. I guess you're not
quite what I expected.

Expected? In what way? Well, Frank never
said his therapist was a woman.

I see. Did he ever mention to you that I
was a man?

You are?

No, I mean, he never mentioned it one
way or the other, not that I can think

It's interesting that you would assume
that I was a man. Why do you think that

is? Listen here, you just slow down now.

I'm going to need some time before you
jump right into the main course.

Certainly. Please, make yourself
comfortable.

Ah, the infamous couch, I presume.

If you like.

Oh,

sorry. No, can't you?

I lie on that couch, you swing a pocket
watch, and the next thing I know, every

time a bell rings, I'm walking like a
duck.

Mr. Dial, you went to the trouble to
come all the way down here to see me.

must have thought I could help you with
something. No, really, I'm fine. Thank

you for your time.

Wait, Mr. Dial.

At least let me validate your parking.

Oh.

And I'm also going to give you one of my
cards. Now, any time you change your

mind... Ah, I see you have a dog.

Oh, yes.

That's Lady.

She's my pride and joy. She's certainly
a fine -looking animal.

Shetland. Yes.

She'll be six years old this June.

Are you a dog lover, Mr. Dial?

Actually, yes, I am.

Was. My dog, he recently died.

Last week.

Thursday morning.

That must be hard.

I don't know what I'd do without my
lady.

I guess I'm just one of those dog
people.

My wife, Dora, says the same thing about
me.

You know, one time when we were
vacationing at Yosemite, she kidded me

being more excited at showing the
redwoods to the dog than to her.

We've been driving for quite some time.

And, well, you know, in Yosemite, they
have those vista points.

Jim,

I think you have to give it a little
time.

Maybe you have 15 years to waste, but I
don't. Now, I don't wish to discuss it

any further.

Oh, geez, it's true.

Jim, you went to Frank's therapist.

I didn't tell her. I heard it from the
guys in the sound booth.

I heard it from the shoeshine man in the
lobby. He heard it from Rory Povich.

Oh, dear Lord.

Tonight on A Current Affair, Jim Dial's
headed for the loony bin.

What did the therapist say to you about
Trickster, Jim?

Well, if you must know, she told me that
the reason I haven't been sleeping well

lately is that I haven't sufficiently
grieved over the loss of my dog.

She suggested I surround myself with
memories of the dog to trigger my dog

grief. So, last night I went out and
stood by his favorite tree.

Nothing. I filled his water dish.
Nothing.

This morning I actually walked out of
the house with this, his burger buddy.

And at last, I felt something.

Oh, Jim.

Yes, I felt like a complete moron.

And I had to pay $120 for the privilege.

Wait, she charges me $140.

Well... Jim.

Maybe you should do what our family did
when one of our pets died.

Oh, no, not the barbecue story again.

No, Murphy, that was a pig, not a pet.

I'm talking about Burr, our dog.

When he died, Mama got us all together
and we dug a hole in the backyard.

Then we decorated his blanket with
flowers, covered him with dirt, and had

good cry.

Oh. Oh, now that is thick. That's not
the way you handle a dead dog situation.

You do what my mother did. I came home
from school one afternoon and asked

Butterscotch was. She said he ran off to
join the dog circus. No fuss, no muss.

Oh, Merce. Get away.

I'm telling you, Jim had the right idea.
Life goes on. But you two keep saying,

oh, it's so sad, oh, you must feel so
bad. Anyone would feel cranky and

irritable if they had to listen to that
all day. If you ask me, the fault lies

in peer pressure. Pure and simple.

I think we all know that's why kids
smoke.

You know, Murphy is absolutely right.

I'm not depressed or repressed.

There's nothing wrong with me that
wouldn't be cured by a good night's

End of story.

Empty again?

Judas Priest, am I working with a herd
of camels?

This was such a good idea. All of us
getting together to have a memorial

for Trickster.

Any sign of Jim yet, Miles? No.

You know, I just hope he'll be okay with
this. Maybe we should have asked him

first. We're doing an intervention,
Miles.

We're intervening to force Jim to deal
with his grief. If you told the person

first, they'd never show up. This way,
we catch Jim by surprise and force him

dive into that deep, horrifying abyss
where he buries his most frightening

feelings.

Man, are we good friends or what?

Here, I made some photo pins of the
deceased from small pictures Doris gave

With any luck at all? This will break
Jim's heart.

Frank, you take the one of Trickster
wearing a bow tie and kilt.

Miles, you take the one of Trickster at
the Grand Canyon.

I want the one of Trickster and Jim in
bed.

Avery finally fell asleep, but not
before he managed to break another one

these statue things.

What, Doris didn't realize a nine -month
-old baby was coming? This stupid dog

funeral's gonna cost me a fortune.

Merch, it's not a funeral, it's memorial
service.

Now here, put this on.

What is it?

Oh, God.

A picture of Jim and Trickster playing
Scrabble.

Gee, I wonder who put down the word
wolf.

There are no under the scalloped
potatoes, so they should be warm when

ready to eat. Thank you, Phil. I must
say, it's just spectacular of you to

all the way out here to cater this
affair.

I know wherever Trickster is now, he's
looking down and thinking, save a bone

for me, Phil.

You never had any kids, did you?

Okay, listen up.

There's more coffee just about ready,
but the main eats are off limits until

after the, uh, thing.

Now, I got a whole lot of food out
there, so you can all plan to take a

bag home with you.

Sorry about that.

Hey, this is it. Jim's here. Oh, boy.
Should we all hide, jump out, and yell

funeral?

I'll just let myself out and back.

Okay, now during the memorial service,
I'll be asking each of you to share a

fond memory of Trickster, whatever's in
your heart.

Murphy, I've written yours for you.

Dammit, Doris, I don't want you buying
me any more of these bikini briefs.

Every time I took a backswing, my shorts
rode halfway up my... My, my, my.

My, we have company.

Your friends have come over, Jim,
because they're a little concerned.

Concerned about what?

What's that thing pinned to your...

That's a picture.

And you're all wearing them?

We're having a memorial service for
Trickster.

It's called an intervention, Jim.

An act of love by your friends to help
you come face to face with the grief

about your dog.

Don't be threatened.

Don't be afraid. Don't let the door hit
you on your way out.

We're not going anywhere, Jim.

Fine. And I will. Jim, do not leave this
room.

I have had it with the sleepless night,
the hall walking, the irritability.

Now, if you're very dear friends and a
competent psychoanalyst think you need

get in touch with this grief, then you
better do it. If not for your sanity,

then at least for mine. Now, sit.

Jim, I just want you to know the only
reason I'm here is because Frank told me

we were going to Dairy Queen.

Friends and...

Trickster, the happy Scottish terrier.
If you'll all take your seats, we're

about to begin.

Doris, if you will.

thing next how much is that doggy in the
casket ladies and gentlemen and

especially jim we are here today to
celebrate a wonderful wonderful dog

trickster dial feel anything yet jim

anything

nothing

ribbon champions, Silky Gray and Earl
Divine.

His official title name, Lord Raymond,
was changed to Trickster when as a mere

pup, Doris found him hiding in Jim's
bedroom slipper.

Do you remember what you said then, Jim?

No.

You said, and I quote,

Oh, that dog is such a trickster.

Remember that, Jim?

No.

And now Frank would like to say a few
words.

Frank? Yes.

What I remember most is sometimes when
I'd be over and

feeling depressed, somehow Trickster
would sense that and he'd come on over

lick my hand until I felt better.

It's a miracle the dog had any tongue
left.

A memory, if you will.

Make it sad.

Uh... Remember when you took Trister to
get those shots, Jim?

You told me about it, remember?

That was sad.

Shots. Ouch!

little body.

Poor trickster.

And now Murphy would like to read for
you a tribute in honor of your

Scottish terrier. Murphy.

What?

A card. Read it for Jim.

What the hell is this?

It's a poem.

Look at that face.

Do it.

We are gone now.

No more chasing all the squirrels.

No more patting all the tom now.

You're off to different worlds.

We run the fields together.

I pat ye on your head.

For your doggie's always with you, bein'
he alive or dead.

is dead.

It's the first time I've said his name
since he died.

Trickster.

I miss my Trickster.

Oh, Jim.

Honey.

Coco.

He was my puppy.

Get this temper. They ought to put him
to sleep.

to catch for hours.

Yeah. They spin around on their little
exercise wheel.

Dear Lord.

Who would have thought it?

Five minutes of acting like an idiot and
somehow I'm starting to feel better.

Thank you.

There was a farmer had a dog

and bing.