All language subtitles for my_favorite_martian_s02e29_uncle_martins_bedtime_story

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!