All language subtitles for my_favorite_martian_s02e33_the_martians_fair_hobo

This is Alpha Zubek Q -12.

Aurora Alice calling patrol.

Come in, patrol.

Come in, patrol.

This is Alpha Zubek Q -12.

You're Alpha Zubek Q -12?

Funny, I always called you Uncle Martin.

Damn.

I'm trying to contact a Martian patrol
flight on Long Way.

A Martian patrol flight?

Do you mean that they're near Earth?
About 50 million miles, give or take a

million. This is the time of year when
Martian space patrols venture nearest

Earth on reconnaissance flights. Oh,
wow.

Well, look.

Isn't it possible that some peeping Tom
Ham radio operator could overhear you? I

doubt it.

Ultra -high sonic frequencies are only
used for space radio contact.

Over.

There she goes, boys.

The first Martian scout.

She gets within 5 ,000 miles of Mars.
Joe, switch off the ultra -high

sound band wave, will you? The Martian
Scout's program table advises

automatically if she's on radio contact.

This is Martian Scout 1 receiving.

This is Martian Scout 1 receiving.

Kim, I made contact with her.

I've got a Martian Scout.

I don't believe it.

At 010, her programming communications
should automatically put her in contact

with Shorty Smith at our Australian
tracking station.

And shut us off here.

Primary instructions.

Contact Shorty Smith.

Contact Shorty Smith.

Signal out.

Well, ours is not the reason why. Let's
get started, Tim. Get started?

Where? You heard the Martian patrol,
Tim.

We've got the contact.

Shorty Smith.

No, that doesn't, Uncle Martin.

We've covered every Smith in the
telephone books, and there's not one

the batch.

Well, then we'll just have to start all
over again, Tim.

Somehow, the elusive Shorty Smith is my
trip ticket back to Mars, and I shan't

rest until I find him. Yes, but do you
mind if we just take a five -minute

for a... I'm pooped.

Uh, buddy?

Would you mind moving over a little bit
so that we could sit down?

You a cop?

No. Then maybe I have a dispossessed
notice.

No. For dispossessed?

No cop?

How about a dime?

You got a dime?

For a dime, I can go have breakfast, and
then you can use my bench in the

meantime. Your bench?

This bench is public property.

What's it be?

I ain't part of the public which owns
this property?

Property owner?

Sitting here panhandling dimes?

Maybe I should open up an office.

I'll be a millionaire without your
crummy dime.

Never let it be said that Shorty Smith
ever groveled for a measly ten cents.

Shorty Smith?

No wonder he wasn't listed in the
telephone book.

Uncle Martin, how's a hobo going to help
you get back to Mars?

I don't know.

But until I receive further
instructions, we've got to hold the only

Smith available.

Mr. Smith.

Yes?

You realize, of course, my checking in
here for a few days doesn't mean I'm

taking charity.

I don't go around depending on other
people.

Oh, of course not, Shorty.

It is merely our desire to return your
hospitality. You gave your bench to my

weary nephew.

Now our home is your home.

Do you realize that that is a self -made
tramp?

Now, if our home is his home, he's going
to hock everything in it.

If he doesn't smoke his outburst.

I've read Shorty's mind.

He may have itchy feet, but he doesn't
have itchy fingers.

He's as honest as the day is long.

But, Uncle Martin, it is fall, and the
days are getting shorter.

Oh, Shorty, my nephew and I will now go
and prepare dinner. Now, why don't you

go and shave a little bit and wash up?

Wash up?

For what?

Today's not Saturday.

Now, Shorty, you wouldn't want to sit
down to eat with dirty hands, would you?

I should have known.

You guys are two do -gooders.

Okay, okay, I'll wash. Don't push, don't
push. Just up to the wrists.

No further than the wrists.

After all, I'm not going to eat with my
elbows.

is next to godliness.

We have an atheist in the bathroom.

Any word from your far -out friends?

No, no, not a word. Not one single word.

Well, until I reach them, we're going to
have to keep Mr. Smith happy and

content. Now, wait a minute, Uncle
Martin. Look, as much as I would miss

want you to get back to Mars as badly as
you do. But for the life of me, I

cannot believe that that tramp in there
could help...

What's for dinner?

Ah, bouillabaisse.

Le Malarudolfo.

You recognize the recipe?

Are you kidding?

I used to be a dishwasher at Maxine's in
Paris. That's when Rudolfo was the head

chef. You were in Paris?

Paris, Rome, Madrid.

Half a dozen times.

Don't cost me nothing. I stole away.

Well, your base needs a little more
soap.

May I?

You ever think of settling down and
taking a job, Charlie? Accomplishing

something? No. I'm superstitious. See, I
won't work any week with a Tuesday in

it. Besides, I have accomplished
something. I'm independently poor, ain't

You take any guy, 30, 40, 50 years, he
knocks his brains out working. For what?

So he can retire and do nothing? I'm
doing nothing already, and I don't have

work 40 years for it.

Well, that's it.

Where do I sack out?

Oh, uh, my nephew has kindly agreed to
relinquish his bed, haven't you, Tim?

Mine?

I guess I have.

Pajamas for our guest.

Shorty, I believe you know the way to
the bath.

Bath? Oh, no. Listen, pajamas is one
thing, but I ain't taking no bath.

Did you know that water is bad for the
natural oils of the skin?

Now, I'm in no mood to get any beef with
my natural oils.

You may not believe this, but I ain't
had a bath in a year.

I believe it.

of trouble with you guys. You give you
guys a wrist and that's the thing you

want of the whole body.

Oh, Martin, I'm so glad you're home. I
wanted to introduce you to one of my

oldest and dearest friends from
Milwaukee, Jenny Holbrook, Martin O

It's so nice to meet you, Mr. O 'Hara.

The pleasure's all mine, dear lady.

One cannot come bearing a greater
recommendation.

than to be a friend of Laura Lee's.

Why, Martin, that's a very sweet thing
to say.

A mere factual statement, Laura Lee.

He's okay once he got past the wet pipe.
Oh, Tim, this is Jenny Holbrook, one of

my dearest friends.

Hello. How do you do?

Miss Holbrook is going to be staying
with Laura Lee for a few days. It's Mrs.

Holbrook, Martin.

Jenny's a widow, too, poor dear.

Five years.

I hope we didn't disturb your dinner,
Mr. O 'Hara.

Martin, and you didn't disturb anything,
dear lady. We had just finished.

Well, the least we can do for barging in
like this is to help you with the

dishes. Nonsense. I wouldn't think of
it. You're a guest.

Oh, please.

Men shouldn't be bothered with dishes.
It's a woman's job.

Where's your kitchen? Oh, there it is.

Oh,

that's Jenny for you.

Nature's little helper. Oh, she just
loves to pitch in.

But, Loralee, I don't... Oh, let her do
it, Martin. It'll do her heart good.

Poor thing always wanted to be a help to
Hobart. That was her husband.

But he treated her like a stick of
furniture. Just sit around and look

Oh, but now Jenny's going to travel.

Aren't you, dear? Well, I was planning
on taking a trip around the world this

year. Yes, and then next year she can go
someplace else.

Oh, the world of good.

She won't be so lonely all the time.

Hey, I never wore one of these before.

Oh, um...

We have a house guest also, Laura Lee.

Mrs. Holbrook, Mrs. Brown, this is Mr.

Smith. Pleased to meet you.

Are you in town on business, Mr. Smith?

Oh, Mr.

Smith isn't working at the present time,
Laura Lee. He's in the middle of

traveling. Oh, how interesting.

Where do you travel?

Where? Oh, everywhere.

In fact, I was just telling the boys
about Paris.

Paris.

So I said to this waiter in Milan, I
said, I'd like to have my coffee without

cream. And this waiter says to me, Which

means, we're all out of cream. You'll
have to have your coffee without milk.

Maybe we'd better go,

Loralee. Oh, what a shame. I could have
listened to Mr. Smith's stories all

night. Well,

there's always tomorrow.

This is really living.

Would you care to be spoon -fed while
you're watching your television, sir?

Before we continue with the movie,
here's the latest report regarding Cape

Kennedy's Martian Scout missile firing
of yesterday.

Martian Scout 1, the latest capsule
launched toward Mars, has veered off

Up until earlier this morning,
everything seemed fine.

When suddenly, Shorty Smith at the
Australian tracking station...

announced that Martian Scout One had
disappeared from his scanning screen.

We'll bring you further reports as we
receive them. Now back to the movie.

Shorty Smith, there's a guy with the
same name as mine.

Shorty Smith?

Tim, I must have picked up the rocket's
communication system on my radio and

mistaken it for... Tim, it's moments
like this that I wish I could say,

I'm only human.

Wait a minute. I'm not finished yet.
What's the matter with you? What's the

problem with you? I'm not finished. Yes,
you are finished.

What's going on there?

What is it? I'm afraid you're checking
out, sir. Why?

I didn't pack your bag.

Hi. Hi.

Any more, uh, messages from Morris?

Go ahead, Tim.

Have your little joke.

I deserve it for letting my strong
emotional desire to return home

Martian reason. I should have checked
everything out.

Oh, come on. Now stop beating yourself
into the ground.

All right, so the infallible Martian is
capable of making a mistake.

I like you better for it.

Shorty is gone.

Everything is all right. Let's forget
it.

Good. Thanks.

What is that?

Oh, it's an idea I picked up from one of
your television commercials.

Cleans like a charm.

I've been up against all sorts of vapors
and gases, but those stogies Shorty was

smoking.

There.

That should do it.

The odor of Shorty's cigar is stronger
than ever.

Shorty, what are you doing here? I'll
tell you what I'm doing here.

You know, before I met you two guys, I
had a profession.

I was a successful tramp. I didn't care
where I slept, how many baths I took,

what I ate, or how I ate it.

Now, thanks to you, I can't sleep on a
park bench no more.

I notice the dirt on my hands. I can't
even sleep with my clothes on. Plus,

of the guys I know will have anything to
do with me. You know why?

They say I've got clads. They say I'm a
snob.

Because of you, I'm a ruined man.

You are kidding.

You can't be serious.

Not at all, Tim.

Shorty has a valid point.

We are responsible for giving him a
taste of the better life.

Yes, but he is just trying to take
advantage of us. Remember, until I found

that I was not following the orders of
the Martian patrol, I was ready to take

advantage of him.

Okay, okay.

But does that mean that we have to adopt
him?

Well, I can assure you I will try to
make his stay with us as brief as

Just as soon as I've determined a new
role in life for Shorty and launch him

it. He has imagination and raw but
innate talent.

I've read his mind and found that most
of the stories he's told us are pure

figments of his imagination.

Shades of Pygmalion.

Shakespeare was holding the heads of
Plagor's horses when I took him in

So I wouldn't utter my disdain too
loudly to him.

You might want to interview him when he
gets the pool of surprise.

Here, help me get this out of here.

I tell you, it's the battle of what's
the use.

I can't write the stories I tell.

Of course you can. It's merely a matter
of transferring them from oral words to

print. But I can't spell.

Use the dictionary.

If I can't spell the words, how can I
look a mother?

Then misspell them. Just put them down.

It won't work.

The trouble with you, Shorty, is that
you have very little faith in yourself.

Come on, Mr. O 'Hara. I gave up pipe
dreaming a long time ago.

Face the facts.

Behind every cloud, there ain't no
silver lining. Just a heck of a storm

up.

Can't you just make him put it on paper?
Can't you just levitate it out of his

brain, down through his arm, and out of
his head?

Even if I used one of my powers, it
would only be a temporary measure.

Shorty needs something of a more lasting
nature, something from inside him. Oh,

well, then you better forget it.

I'm afraid that our knight of the road
is about as much incentive as an amoeba.

Tim, that's it. The key to Shorty's
problem.

An amoeba?

Of course not.

Incentive. And I believe I know just the
person who can give Shorty the amount

he needs. Jenny Holbrook. You're
kidding.

Not at all. She's the lonely woman who
desperately needs to be needed.

And, as you yourself said, Shorty needs
a lot. Ergo, a perfect match.

Well? How do you intend to become a
matchmaker?

While you keep Laura Lee occupied
downstairs tonight, I shall switch on

projection of my Martian photographic
memory.

Hmm? In other words, Tim, neither Shorty
nor Jenny will have to wait for

Shorty's book to come out to see the
picture.

I do hope I'm not imposing, Mr. Smith,
but Mr.

O 'Hara thought you'd be the perfect one
to discuss my trip with me, having

traveled so much yourself.

Oh, well, gee, I don't think that a lady
like you would like to see a lot of the

places that I've been to.

Oh, I'm sure I would.

Those stories you tell are so
fascinating.

Tell me, have you ever been to Rome?

Oh, sure, I've been to Rome.

Is the Colosseum as beautiful as they
say?

Well, it might have been once, but gee,
the way they let it run down is really a

disgrace. You'd be surprised. No
windows, broken walls.

All I can say is that those Romans and
my old lady must have had the same

landlord.

One of the prettiest places I've ever
been to in my whole life was

Tahiti. What a place Tahiti is.

Go ahead, Shorty.

Let your imagination go. I'm right
behind you. Warm breezes blowing.

Like when you're standing at a bus stop
and a bus goes right by you.

Stars shining like a thousand beer cans
with their labels off.

The rows of trees standing like hotel
doormen with their palms out.

Oh, Mr. Smith.

The way you describe it, I almost feel
as though I were there with you.

Funny.

I feel the same way.

The only thing missing is the song of
the islands being played in the

I could see it now.

Two frogs on the same water lily
speaking words of love.

Ships in the harbor crying because
they're leaving the Tahitian shores.

Telling stories about people.

I think you'd be good at anything,
Shorty.

Listen,

Jenny, I think it's getting a little
late.

Oh, yes.

That was a very vivid description.

Perhaps you could tell me more about it
some other time? Oh, sure, yeah.

Maybe I'll even let you read about it
sometime if I ever get around to putting

it on paper.

Oh.

Good night, Shorty.

Hello there, Shorty. How are you? I just
came up the back way. Is that right?

Well, that's just the way I'm going out
as soon as I can change back into my old

duds. But why? Why? I had the feeling
everything was going very well. Yeah,

a freight highballing it smack down the
mainline track where it don't belong.

Nonsense, Shorty.

True, you switch tracks, but you're on
the right one now.

Come on, Mr. O 'Hara. Let's not kid
ourselves.

I'm an irresponsible nothing.

A hobo. A free roller.

Not the world traveler that she thinks I
am. Just because a guy puts on fancy

duds doesn't give him class and
respectability.

And she's got it. You could have it,
too, if you worked for it.

Or for Jenny. Thanks. But I tried that
kind of a thing once a long time ago.

Today, my motto is, if at first you
don't succeed, quit.

I'm taking the midnight freight out of
here.

I just saw Jane.

She is smiling like she just swallowed a
banana sideways.

Listen to her. How is Dan Cupid? You
mean, how is Dan stupid?

Shorty's leaving.

Leaving? Yes, I seem to have
underestimated Shorty's good conscience.

Well, I guess it's time to shove off.
Thanks, fellas, for the buggy ride. It

last while it lasted.

Martin, Tim, hurry. It's Jenny. She's
fainted. She's what? She was just

there and suddenly she... What are we
standing here for? Come on.

What did you do to Jenny?

I merely placed her in a state of
suspended animation.

Dramatic, am I not?

Jenny, wake up.

Wake up, Jenny.

Wake up, Jenny.

What happened?

You passed out, Jenny.

Are you okay now?

Oh, I am just a little dizzy.

Shorty, what are you dressed like that
for?

Shorty's a hobo.

Aren't you, Shorty? A hobo?

But you said he was your house guest,
that he was retired.

He was, Laura Lee, from the world.

But I thought...

That he could possibly be a man who
might need someone like you?

He is.

His rushing to your side as he did at
the expense of revealing his identity

proved that.

Well, he certainly couldn't wait to come
down here.

Running from life again, Shorty?

This could be your last chance to walk
towards it.

Wouldn't work.

Oh, wait a minute, Shorty.

I believe this is yours.

Your name is on it.

Hey.

Hey, those are my words.

You know, those things I was telling you
about before.

Well, I thought your description was so
lovely, I just write it down for you. An

excellent collaborative effort, Shorty.
They have been known to work quite well.

Yeah, sure.

Of course, this isn't the way I said it
exactly.

Oh, well.

You can always change it back to the way
you want. You see, I wasn't quite sure

the way you said it.

Yeah, like, for example, over here I
said, stars all shining like a thousand

beer cans with their labels on them.

The rows of trees standing like hotel
doormen with their palms out.

Well, Tim, I hope you've learned a
lesson in life.

Oh, I certainly have, Uncle Martin.

If you want to stay single, Don't wash
above your wrists.