Original subtitles

Thank you, Mr. Chairman, for your flattering introduction.

And thank you, fellow members, for your warm welcome and your not -so -warm

chicken croquettes.

Now, be sure to pause here and take a casual sip of water.

Uh, if you are planning on getting a laugh at that point, you are

liable to get waterlogged.

It's not intended to be what you Earth people call a yacht or a barfola.

The members of the Martian Anthropological Society have a much more

of humor.

Oh. The Martian Anthropological Society.

Uncle Martin, you found a way to get back home.

No, but Omar M. Keck has found one for me.

Keck? Mm -hmm.

The Bacon and Knockers King?

Yes. What's he got to do with it?

Tim, don't you ever read the front page of your own paper?

Well, you know how I am, Uncle Martin. Once I get past the sporting page in the

comics, I, uh... Well, I get intellectually fatigued.

Well, you don't mind listening, do you?

No. All right.

Omar M. Keck.

founder of the Keck Foundation, announced here today the completion of a

spacecraft capable of landing on Mars, the first privately financed project of

its kind.

The astronaut will be chosen tomorrow from an elite group now in training.

Oh, well, that's nice.

You're not planning on being the astronaut?

Well, now, can you think of a better representative from Earth to Mars than a

Martian? After all, who can explain your people better up there than I can?

Well, granted, but aren't you overlooking one small point?

What's that?

Well, generally speaking, astronauts are somewhere between the ages of, you

know, their 20s and their 30s, and you are just a teeny -weeny bit

older.

Thank you for putting it so delicately.

Oh, well.

There go my hopes of getting back home.

Well, the best laid plans of mice and Martians gang off the glaive.

Well, now, let's not start a glaying yet. You know, I don't know that there's

any law that says an astronaut has to be a certain age.

Thanks for trying to cheer me up.

But it's no use.

Although it would have been to their advantage to have a mature, steady hand

the controls instead of a youngster who might just push the panic button.

Yeah, it's too bad somebody can't tell Keck.

Well, I can't.

I can't even get in to see him.

Well, wait a minute.

Why can't I tell him?

You, Tim?

I'm a reporter. I can get in to see anybody.

Tim, if only you would.

It's as good as done. I'll call the foundation and I will make an

Don't bother.

I've already made an appointment for you. Mr. Keck will see you at 9 o 'clock

tomorrow morning.

Me, Martian.

You give peanuts.

Me take you to my leader.

Oh, how do you do?

I'm Professor Crenshaw, director of the training program.

I presume that you're the father of one of these boys.

No, I'm a competitor of all of them. Martin O 'Hara.

You're the man that Mr. Keck called me about? Yes.

Forgive me, but did he actually see you?

No, but I assure you he knows that if I needed medical attention, I wouldn't go

to a pediatrician.

My goodness, that looks complicated.

Must take a combination of Buck Rogers and Einstein to operate it. Oh, indeed

does. In fact, this entire book is just landing procedures, entirely.

The boys have been working for two months. They haven't mastered it yet.

Well, I'm sure they're doing the very best they can.

Uh, that, uh...

Thing over there, whatever it is. I didn't see it in the diagram.

Certainly are observant.

But those, let me tell you this. Actually, these are all signaling

you see. And if the simulated landing is correct, then all these indicators

light up, you see. And then these master lights show a perfect score.

Unfortunately, that hasn't happened yet.

Well, I know it sounds ridiculous, but do you mind if I try?

That's unbelievable.

You came through that entire sequence perfectly and in less than five seconds.

Well, I would have done it faster, except I've got a hangnail on my thumb.

Uncle Martin, this is Mr. Keck. Oh.

I don't often meet millionaires.

Is a deep salam or a simple curtsy in order?

Well, let's just settle for a howdy and a handshake. Well, howdy.

Thank you for the opportunity of allowing me to apply for the job. You

sure you're just spoofing about becoming an astronaut.

I'll tell you what.

We've got an opening in the plant for a sausage stuffer.

Well, thanks again.

But a sausage casing is not the opening I came here to fill.

Excuse me.

Mr. Keck, that man mastered that control panel in seconds. I never saw anybody

like him before. Yeah, send me against to Mars, you won't again, either.

Now, wait a minute. Not so fast.

Just because a man's got a head stuffed full of brains, that don't make him an

astronaut.

Frankly, Tim, your uncle looks a wee mite scrawny to me.

How are the other boys doing? Oh, fine.

Come on.

Hiya, Mr. Kick.

Howdy, Baker.

This one's going to separate the men from the boys.

Great shape, Baker.

Thank you.

Well, that looks like fun. Do you mind if I try it?

Are you kidding, Pops? You'll have to snap your garters.

Oh, Baker, this is Tim O 'Hara, the Los Angeles Sun.

Hi there. Hi there.

Mr. Kick.

Oh, God, the man's gone plum loco. He'd better stop that.

Get rid of this.

I know I saw it, but I can't believe it. He's not human.

My goodness, he's out of this world.

You can say that again.

He's out of this world.

Uh, excuse me.

Thank you.

a few words.

How would you like to go to Mars?

I'm a man of fewer words. The answer is yes.

You mean it? You really mean it? Yes, I really mean it.

This is going to cover the whole front page.

Don't forget your byline.

Oh, I haven't forgotten anything.

Starting with the fact that you were chosen as the astronaut and that you

visited the capsule today at Burbank and that you had lunch with Mr. Keck.

That reminds me, Tim, you didn't have to go so far as to pick up the check.

Well, I didn't want him to think he was dealing with pikers. And besides, you

noticed that he didn't struggle very much.

Yes, I've noticed that about you people.

The only time you don't mind coming in second is when it comes to picking up

tab.

Boy, this is really great copy.

Burns is just going to love me for this.

Well, from what you tell me about him, even if he doesn't hate you quite as

much, that will be a triumph.

Oh, with this scoop, I'll have him eating right out of my hand. As a matter

fact... With the bonus I get, I am going to buy a stereotype system for my car.

You know, the one I've always dreamed about.

Mm -mm. Tim, bonuses are like chickens.

Don't count them before they're hatched.

Oh, it's in the bag. Why, old stone -faced Burns, he couldn't... I, uh...

Well... Just talking about Charlie Burns, butcher.

Well, feast your eyes on this journalistic gem, Mr. Burns.

Well, what do you have to say about that?

The only thing I can say.

Well... O 'Hara? Yes?

You are without a doubt the most incompetent, blundering, inept reporter

ever been my misfortune to be associated with.

While you were out wining and dining, we were scooped by every other paper in

town.

Mr. Burns, it wasn't completely Tim's fault, you know. What with the

excitement... Mr. O 'Hara, I... I congratulate you on being chosen to go

Mars, and I envy you.

You do? Why?

Because you were able to put 200 million miles between yourself and your nitwit

nephew.

Huh?

What are you doing sitting and reading that magazine? You have to go to Mars in

a couple of days.

Now, shouldn't you be boning up on your take -off and landing procedure?

Tim, would you have to study a 200 -page manual on how to tie a shoelace?

Well,

you just found my one weakness.

That's why I wear loafers.

How'd he go today?

Burns is still giving me the treatment. Do you know what he assigned to me for

this afternoon?

The weekly meeting of the WLTBFS.

What's that?

That is the Westwood lady's phenotopsis in bubbling fancier society.

Unconstitutional. Cruel.

An unusual punishment.

Even for a bubbling.

Tim, you know, for the first time since I landed on Earth, I'm rather sorry that

you're the one who had to find me.

Well, what I mean is that I seem to have complicated things for you a great

deal. Oh, no, of course you haven't, Uncle Martin. I mean, well, it's had its

compensations.

I hope you really mean that.

Well, of course I do.

Until I met you, I knew nothing about Baroque music, pre -Columbian art, or

my Martian uncle snores just as loud as the rest of us.

Tim, would you say that again?

Pre -Columbian art. No, no, that your Martian uncle snores. You know, you've

a story that might just win the Pulitzer Prize.

I have?

Why, yes.

Who else can write a newspaper series entitled My Uncle Was a Martian?

Do you mean that I can tell everything?

Well, of course it can't be printed up until after I leave.

Premature exposure would be a little embarrassing.

Oh, oh, oh, what a going away present. All I got for you was a couple of

neckties.

I don't know where to start. There's so much to tell.

Why don't you use your tape recorder?

The thoughts will pour out more spontaneously and dramatically.

That is a great idea.

Mr. Burns.

This is Tim O 'Hara, your star reporter speaking.

By the time you hear this tape, the latest missile on its way to Mars will

been shot.

You know, it's a funny thing. You know everything there is to know about

philosophy and anthropology.

All the ologies.

But you still can't make a decent cup of coffee.

Where do you think you're going?

Well, you know how I hate farewells, so I thought I'd get a taxi and go on down

to the base alone.

I sort of thought you'd try something like that.

And the answer is absolutely no.

I am taking you to the air base, and there will be no arguments.

Well, I rather hope that you would insist.

Well, I can drop off the tape recorder at Mr. Burns' office on the way. Do you

realize that you're going to be in the headlines twice today?

Once when you, uh, take off?

And again, when Mr. Burns finds out that you really were a Martian?

Tim, there's no chance he'll hear that tape prematurely.

No, no, no. You'll be taking off at 5 .30, and old Stoneface doesn't even get

into his office till 6 o 'clock.

By that time, you'll be thousands of miles away.

Which reminds me that...

I'll

be ready in the jiffy.

Mr. Kemp.

Hey, what's going on here? Television. The eyes of the country are on us.

Television.

Well, I didn't aim to keep this little old shoot a secret.

Do them red tape fellas good to see how an old cow hen gets things done.

Well, howdy, Tim.

Now, tell me, Tim, you didn't leave that old bronco buster in the corral, did

you? No, sir. No, no. My Uncle Martin wouldn't miss a chance to get back home.

Back home?

Yes, sir.

Oh, he's been thinking so much about Mars lately, he just considers it his

away from home.

Now, that's what I call real dedication.

There he is now.

Well, do you think it does anything for me? Well, lapels are still in fashion,

and the pants could use a little tapering. Well, there goes my chance to

Princeton. Now, Martin, you wouldn't mind saying a few words on television,

would you?

Oh, I'd be delighted. If I'd known you were going to do that, I would have had

some appropriate ad libs. Ready. Well, you know, I thought of that. I knew you

wouldn't have too much time, so I whipped a little something up myself.

Oh, well, thank you. Thank you very much.

Ladies and gentlemen, I face this historic moment with supreme confidence.

Until I return, may I leave you with these parting words.

Behold, have faith in...

Behold, have faith in

the future and eat Keck's squared meatballs.

The meatball with the corners that taste oh so good.

Thanks a lot, Martin.

Thanks, boys. I'll give you another commercial later.

One hour to blast off.

Martin, you'd better get up to the capsule.

Gentlemen, he who is about to fly salutes you.

Good luck, Martin.

You made those meatballs sound so yummy, I just can't wait to run down to my

neighborhood supermarket.

Tim, I'm glad that taped account of my stay on Earth is already on your

desk. I'd hate to have this incident recorded in my biography.

Happy landing, Uncle Mark.

Yeah.

I'll see you, Tim.

Borrow those for one second? Sure. Thank you. Here.

Crenshaw to astronaut.

O 'Hara, do you read me? I read you loud and clear.

We're blasting off on full automatic. So just sit back and relax.

Relaxing. Bye, Tim.

And don't forget the laundry goes out on Tuesday.

Yeah, right.

Now, this is it.

Ten, nine, eight. Professor, hold it.

Yes, what is it?

Extreme disturbance in upper atmosphere. Visibility approaching zero.

May continue several hours.

Mr. Keck, we can't blast off now. We're going to have to delay the countdown.

Here, give me that phone.

O 'Hara?

Yes, Mr. Keck?

We're socked in.

Don't get out of the capsule.

Just stay put.

Order's received and noted. I'll catch up on my beauty sleep.

Over and out.

Did you imagine a man taking a nap at a time like this? Why, that man ain't got

a nerve in his whole body.

Not a nerve.

Only Toledo.

The tape.

Mr. Burns.

What took you so long? If anyone plays that tape and finds out I'm a Martian...

Yeah, I know, I know. Don't finish the sentence. For the first time in my life,

I am ahead of you.

hear this tape, the latest missile on its way to Mars will have been shot.

So if you're standing up, please sit down, relax, close your eyes, because

you are about to get the surprise of your life.

Get set to hear the greatest story of the century.

Close your eyes.

Relax, he says.

Hands

on

him.

The weather bureau says go, go, go.

Coordinated to astronauts.

Oh, no, wait a minute.

It's set to go off an automatic, ain't it?

Well, then why bother men when he's trying to catch 40 winks? He'll have

to do later.

All right. Here we go.

Countdown.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Well, we just made it.

Long's lifting Uncle Martin. You better shake a leg, huh? This is no time for

half measures. I intend to shake both legs.

Glad to come in second. I'm glad good old Martin's taking the trip.

I want to tell you, when that old buckaroo lands on Mars, we're going to

mighty proud that we knew him.

It can't be.

You're not here. You're up there.

Believe me, I'm just as sorry as you are that I'm not.

Even sorrier.

Perfect takeoff.

Without the astronaut.

Of course, it would have been nicer if the missile had left with me. But as we

all know, success is relative.

As Aristotle once said... Hang, Aristotle.

Why didn't you stay put?

Well, that capsule was rather confining and my foot fell asleep.

And, well, I didn't think there would be any harm if I just stepped out for one

minute. That sounds like a reasonable explanation to me.

Well, nobody can say that Omar M. Keck don't learn by his mistakes.

And we're going to put up another missile.

Well, if you'll arrange for a little more room in the capsule, I'll be quite

comfortable.

Yep. Omar M. sure learned something.

And the next time he picks an astronaut, it's going to be a kid in knee pants.

And he may not know a lot about Aristotle, but he'll know enough to stay

when he's told.

Come on, boys.

to talk to you like that, not while I'm around. Please, Tim. Please.

Please restrain yourself.

Well, I'm going to teach him a lesson.

I'll... I'll... I'll never buy his knock worst again.

Thanks, Tim.

What's a trip to Mars compared to friendship like that?