Original subtitles

Everybody should have an electric bed.

Why, it's positively unbelievable.

You just push a button and your head goes up and your feet go up. And your

electric bill goes up.

Do you think I was silly to buy it? No, no, I was just kidding, Mrs. Brown. As a

matter of fact, I've always said, anyone who has an electric bed, more power to

them.

Good night, Mrs. Brown. Good night.

Hey.

Hey, that's wild.

But will it sell?

I mean, don't you think fathers have enough trouble climbing up on the tops

buildings trying to rescue their children's kites?

Tim, you know very well these are not toys.

Say, Uncle Martin, I, uh... I know you want to get back to Mars, but don't you

think this idea is just a little far out?

I mean, there must be an easier way than hitching your spaceship to the back of

one of our rockets.

That puts the launch time back on schedule.

Check, sir.

Blast off 2200 hours Tuesday.

Turn it off, Tim.

Uncle Martin, did I hear what I think I just heard?

Vandenberg Air Force Base.

You mean you rigged my hi -fi so that it would tune them in? Well, now, how do

you think I got the specifications to build this model?

You know I must calculate the exact point of contact so as not to jar their

rocket off course.

But don't worry.

It'll still pick up ball games.

Forget the ball games.

We'll be picked up.

Look, you just can't tune in on top secret meetings like that. You're going

know more about our rockets than the Air Force does.

For centuries, we've been using these in our amusement parks.

Oh, thanks a lot.

I'm going to go to bed.

You see, what I can't hear, they can't shoot me for.

Well, now, you needn't worry, Tim.

No one can possibly find out what's going on here.

Let's see. Go to UCLA Library tomorrow and pick up additional research.

That's what I'll do.

Go to UCLA Library tomorrow to pick up additional research.

Oh, yes. They say that's a wonderful library, Martin.

Oh, Martin, I just had to catch you. I had the most interesting dream last

night. It was about, uh, guess who?

Well, uh, that does narrow it down considerably.

Me? You guessed it.

Oh, I can remember it all so plainly.

You were going to school.

No, no, he wasn't going to school. He was going to the library for some books.

Yes, yes. He wanted to find out something about spaces.

Or was it space?

Well, anyway, isn't that silly?

Oh, my goodness, I was right.

Well, I must be psycho.

That's psychic.

But don't you worry, Mrs. Brown. Yes, she has no reason to worry.

I assure you, it was a common illusion known as déjà vu.

Without realizing it, you saw the UCLA imprint and read the titles on these

books, and then you imagined they were part of your dream last night about me.

Oh, well, thank goodness.

It certainly would be scary going around thinking you're thinking somebody

else's thinking.

Well, excuse me, I have to put away my groceries.

Rendezvous.

They don't seem to be in love with each other.

It's the magnetic polarization.

It's reversed itself.

Well, come on, the lamp.

Good gracious.

You know, one more second, Mrs. Brown would have lost her favorite lamp.

And it would have been the end of my favorite finger. Yeah.

I think I strained it. Well...

Thank goodness I'm ambidextrous.

You know, somehow, my positive turned negative.

Oh, listen, don't feel bad about that, Uncle Martin. Many times I've been

positive and received a negative answer.

Tim, I assure you that this is much more serious than... Oh.

Oh? Martin!

Tim! He didn't mean no. He meant uh -oh.

Heavens, you're all right.

Oh, I feel so foolish.

Well, I guess it was just another silly dream.

Suddenly, I got the feeling that you were involved in some kind of a crash.

Crash?

What else did you dream, Mrs. Brown?

Well, first, that you were having some kind of a rendezvous.

I believe it was on a ship. A ship?

Mrs. Brown, Uncle Martin, he gets seasick just having a chair with one leg

even.

Mrs. Brown, you have a very vivid imagination.

Yes, I don't know what's the matter with me these days. I'm sorry.

You know, I even had the idea that Martin injured his finger.

Oh, my goodness.

Well, I really am psycho.

Mrs. Brown, it's psychic.

No, Tim, it's coincidence.

Well, you didn't have to keep it from me. I mean, I don't feel badly about it.

In fact, if it's true, it might even be fun.

Now, I've taken up enough of your time. Now, you just go back to whatever you

were doing, and don't you worry about me.

Oh, don't worry, she says.

You know, Tim, somehow my thoughts are being broadcast to her. This is a

problem, but the situation could be worse.

Oh, sure. Yes, maybe a few more people could tune you in. Then you'd have your

own network show. I can just see it.

This is the Top Secret Hour, brought to you by Leavenworth Penitentiary.

I'm going to have to work fast, Tim.

But if I can hook up a special feedback condenser, I think I can find out the

cause of all this trouble. You see, somehow Mrs. Brown is picking up the

electrical impulses from my brain waves.

And the only way I can stop it is to get a picture of what's serving as a

transmitting unit.

And all we have to hope is that this is the one time a woman can keep her

thoughts to herself.

It's open!

happened today. I can't wait to tell you about it. What's that?

Well, you'll just have to wait.

You're so punctual. You don't even give a girl a chance to get finished

dressing. Well, Laura, punctuality is a necessity with a policeman.

There wouldn't be much point in arriving at a robbery a half hour late.

Well, I guess that's true, but I don't go to many robberies.

I didn't know you were interested in mentalism.

You know, I took a post... Postgraduate course in psychic phenomena at Duke?

That's what I wanted to talk to you about.

I'm psycho.

Do you mean psychic?

Well, maybe I do.

That's what Martin calls it.

Oh, Hara.

Why does that intellectual know nothing to do with this? Oh, he's the one I'm

psycho about.

I read his mind.

That must be a sickening experience.

But I'm not joking.

I've really been doing it. If it's true...

In our experiments at Duke, we had to search far and wide for subjects who

really had extrasensory perception.

But I knew about his books and his hurt finger.

I'll bet you I can tell what he's thinking right now. If you could, it

more than we even came close to doing at Duke. What's he thinking?

I don't understand it.

All of a sudden, my extrasensory isn't percepting.

Perhaps be relaxed.

Relaxed.

Wait a minute!

Every time it happened, I was relaxing on my new bed.

I was right.

Now I'm getting something.

It might be the bed. We had a woman at Duke who could only perceive on her

grandfather's rocker.

What's he thinking?

A canned answer.

It must be something to eat. He's hungry right now.

What else is he thinking?

About a watercress sandwich.

Watercress? sandwich and canned answer.

I think it'll work.

Food. I'm famished. Now, well, if you don't mind, I'm going to have ham and

cheese. Somehow I just can't flip out over a watercress sandwich.

Mrs. Brown.

Hello. Lieutenant Brown.

Martin, please excuse us, but Bill wanted to ask you something.

Oh?

What would you like to ask me, Lieutenant?

Have you run out of chalk for marking tires?

It's watercress.

He is eating a watercress sandwich. I am, and may I ask... Do you have a

to search my sandwich?

Now, don't get angry, Martin.

It's just that I told Bill I could read your mind and he wanted to see for

himself.

Loralee, you can do it. You really can.

Now, O 'Hara, what is a canned answer?

Canned answer?

Well, I read those words, too.

I assure you that I have no idea what you could be thinking of. Don't you mean

what you could be thinking of? Come on, O 'Hara, what does it mean, canned

answer? Detective Brennan, I know that you belong to the police force and all

that stuff and that you carry a badge, but that doesn't give you the right to

look at me as though I were a fingerprint.

Come along, Loralee. We aren't getting anywhere here.

Okay, come on.

I know you were covering up. Now, what's this canned, uh...

Canned Ensor?

Not canned Ensor, Tim. Thank goodness she didn't read me very clearly. The

correct pronunciation is condenser.

Well, anyway, you got away with it. Not completely.

And I'm afraid that this public nose has stumbled onto a faint scent.

Now I've got to move fast.

Tim, you are about to witness something that no other Earthling has ever, ever

seen. Oh, I hope he isn't seeing a Martian electrocute himself.

Pardon me.

Full scope, double mind reading.

The instant that Mrs. Brown reads my mind, I will be reading hers. And this

cause a short circuit of both our thoughts at the point of contact.

Now, whatever is acting as an amplifier will show up on your television

screen right there. No kidding. What channel?

That's Mrs. Brown's apartment.

Of course it is. What we are seeing is mere audiovisual projection of both

Brennan's and Mrs. Brown's minds as I read them.

In living color?

What is so unusual about that?

On a black and white set?

I tell you, Loralee, I had the feeling he was trying to hide something.

Oh, and I tell you, Bill, that Martin has nothing to hide.

Everybody's got something to hide. I haven't.

Tell me, Loralee, how old are you?

I'm, uh... Well... Oh, really big.

You see?

Well... Now, Loralee, let's assume I'm wrong, though I rarely am, and he's not

trying to hide something.

Well, it's your natural inquisitiveness. Aren't you curious to know what goes on

in a man's mind?

Well... In the interest of science, I'd like to start some tests immediately.

Oh, but I couldn't peep and tell.

I mean, suppose it's something private that he doesn't want anybody to know.

What if it was something about you?

Me? Ah, you're afraid to find out what he thinks of you.

Oh, I most certainly am not.

That's our culprit. A bed spring.

Her new electric bed?

Well, that means every time she gets in bed, she'll know what you're thinking.

And if she thinks what you're thinking, you're thunk.

Sunk.

The Mars launch is in 24 hours. I've got to keep her out of that bed tomorrow

night somehow.

Well, maybe you can make her a sleepwalker.

All I got was a kind of buzzing, and all I was thinking were my own thoughts.

My head was completely empty.

Oh, well, anyway, I didn't want to do it in the first place.

I'm sorry, Lorelei. Your psyche's probably tired.

But tomorrow's my day off.

We could spend the whole day doing research.

Oh, did you forget, Bill?

I'm going to Palm Springs tomorrow.

Hey, did you hear, Uncle Martin? That's the answer to a Martian's prayer.

Not quite. Well, of course, if you had something else in mind, I mean, I don't

want to impose on you.

I can probably get Martin to water the plants and let in the plumber. Oh, but

I'd be happy to, Loralee. They're painting my apartment, and I don't even

sleeping over.

As a matter of fact, I'm anxious to try out this new electric bed.

Uncle Martin, you're not losing a lamb, lady.

You're gaining a bloodhound.

You just took off.

Yeah, and in ten hours, I'm supposed to do the same thing.

What's the matter?

Look, I tried to make my mind a blank last night, but unfortunately, I too can

dream.

You mean... You mean she may have picked something up? Mm -hmm. She did. Several

key words. And as she was leaving, she gave them to our new neighbor.

Now, wait a minute. You, uh...

You say that the words are Spragib Cargib Mars Lunch Vanby.

Well, unless Vernon speaks Martian, he's not going to make any sense out of

that.

On the contrary, Jim. It's good English distorted when in my sleep I was trying

to disguise my thoughts.

Space for Cargib means spaceship in garage.

And Mars Lunch Vanby is merely an abbreviated way of saying... Mars Lunch

Vandenberg. You guessed it.

Oh, no. No, it's in today's paper. See? Mars launch, Vandenberg.

And unfortunately, that all -American nose can read it, too.

This is going to be tricky. I hope I can do it.

That's what I call freedom in the press.

Time to try to get our work done before Brennan's bedtime.

Mars launch, minus 9 hours, 48 minutes.

Mars launch, minus 20 minutes and counting.

All systems go.

So far, Tim, so good.

But... But what?

He's thinking of bed.

Oh, no. Oh, we need you 20 minutes.

19. All right, 19 minutes.

He can't decide whether to go to bed or boil some yogurt.

Boil yogurt?

Don't knock it, Tim. Don't knock it. Right now, it's better than going to

Come on, yogurt.

Oh,

no. No, no. He's in the bedroom.

Yes, I'm on the bed.

Who said that?

That was close.

Ten minutes.

Final check. I'm afraid it's going to be a good deal closer, too. I can't even

disguise my thoughts.

Because I've got to concentrate for my flight, wind, moisture, air pressure.

All must be measured with absolute accuracy.

Well, then if he gets back in that bed... I'm dead.

I'll just have to switch my mind reading from manual to instinctive and try to

keep him diverted.

That way, maybe we can stay one move ahead of that bargain basement James

and go.

Time to get down to the garage.

Come on.

Hey, Uncle Martin, can't you take it easy on him now?

Not till I'm gone, Tim. Even though I'll be safe on Mars, you'll be here.

What I mean is... What are you saying at a time like this? Just a simple

goodbye, Tim.

With the hope that someday I can return. And now you better stand clear.

Oh, no, no, no.

I crossed levitation circuit.

Is he hurt? With his head?

No, just temporarily unconscious.

Oh.

You know, he's going to have a hard time wearing a hat tomorrow.

Three, two, one, blast off.

Well, I, uh, I guess that's it, Uncle Martin.

I guess nothing that'll stop you from getting home now.

Well, um... Save your goodbyes, Tim.

I'm afraid something already has.

Hmm?

Brennan.

What? You... What, you mean that little dent?

Mm -hmm. Just big enough to throw the ship off course.

Oh.

Well, I wish I could say I'm sorry.

But I'm not.

Well, I'd like to say I'm sorry too, Tim.

But, well, yet somehow, even Brennan knocked himself out to keep me here.

Say, Uncle Martin.

Well, are you sure?

Detective Brennan didn't see your spaceship before he had... The only

saw was stars.

The last thing he recalls is deciding to go to bed.

Yeah. Well, what about that bed?

How can you be positive that Mrs. Brown won't be able to read your mind anymore?

Because, as I told you, X to the 38th power equals Y pi squared over 4.

But how can you be sure Mrs. Brown can't read your mind anymore?

In layman's terms, because Brennan's last big bounce...

Bent one of the bed springs.

It changed its wavelength, and it's no longer attuned to my brain frequency.

But are you sure?

Brennan and Mrs. Brown have been trying all day to read my thoughts

unsuccessfully.

Here they come again.

Excuse me.

But I could almost taste it.

I could have sworn he was up here eating an apple. Hippos!