Original subtitles

- Hey, Dad!

Dad! Mom!

Mom!

- What is it, son?

What's the matter?

- What is it?

- Well, you remember that toy drum of mine

that you couldn't stand the sound of?

- Yes, I remember.

- Well, you sure were wrong.

Mr. Wilson likes the way it sounds so much,

he gave me a whole dollar for it.

Whoopee!

[music playing]

- Well, hi, fellas.

- Is Dennis ready yet, Mr. Mitchell?

We got to get going.

- Where are you off to in such a rush this morning?

- We're gonna go to Mars.

- Mars?

OK, you stay here and I'll see if Dennis

is ready to blast off.

Son, your space buddies are here!

- Be right there!

Just blasting off!

Voom!

- Just a minute young man.

Aren't you forgetting something?

- Oh, yeah, you mean my jet pack!

- No, I don't.

I mean the haircut that you're going

to get this morning before you go out to play.

Play?

Jeepers, Mom, this isn't play.

We're starting a new club to explore outer space.

- I'm afraid you'll just have to consider yourself

earthbound until after your haircut.

- OK.

Can I go to the barber shop like this?

- I suppose so.

- As long as you don't forget to take your helmet off

when you get in the chair.

here, and don't lose this.

- Roger, over and out!

Let's go!

See you later!

Voom!

- Those kids, they deserve their six shooters for space guns

every time some crackpot claims he's seen a flying saucer.

Look at this, honey.

- Local man reports landing of strange aircraft.

Oh my goodness.

- He claims he saw a spaceship land in a vacant lot,

eject five little men, and take off again.

- I suppose anything's possible.

- Especially after spending the evening in a local tavern.

A man by the name of Perkins stated

that after a small escape hatch opened

in the side of the strange craft, a ladder was opened out,

and little figures dressed in weird

looking space suits scurried in all directions.

Now, I ask you, Martha, how ridiculous can you get?

[phone ringing]

- I'll get it, dear.

Hello?

Yes, just a minute.

It's long distance, dear, for you.

- Long distance, oh my goodness.

- One of your space men, no doubt.

- Hello?

Yes, speaking.

I did?

Oh, oh!

- What is it?

- Martha, please.

Yes!

3 o'clock this afternoon will be just fine.

Well, thank you very much!

Good bye!

Martha!

I won!

- George!

You won what, dear?

- Why, the essay contest sponsored

by the Graceful Living magazine, of course.

- Oh, George.

- And Martha, not only are they going

to print my essay in next month's issue.

But they're coming out here to present me

with a gold plaque, a check for $50, and take my picture too.

- Oh, I'm so proud of you.

Now, let's see.

They said 3 o'clock.

Oh, dear, I suppose the first thing I should do

is get a haircut.

- It is a little longer around the ears.

I could trim it for you.

- Oh, Martha, this is one time everything has to be just so.

After all, it isn't every day I get

my picture in a well-known magazine.

- Hi, Mr. Wilson!

- Great Scott!

- Hello, boys.

- Hi, Mrs. Wilson.

Would you like to join our new space club, Mr. Wilson?

- Oh, no thank you, Dennis.

- We got swell plans.

- Some day we're going to build a real space ship

and go millions of miles.

- Mr. Wilson has to go to the barber shop.

- Oh, is that where you're going, Mr. Wilson?

That's just where I'm going.

We can go together.

- Isn't that lovely?

- Oh, that's delightful.

But on second thought, I have some things

I want to do around the house first.

- Oh, if you're not going, I think I'll wait, too.

Would you like us to come in and wait for you, Mr. Wilson?

- No, thanks, why don't you boys just blast off into space?

[yelling]

- Oh, voom, yourself.

Confound it, Martha,

have to be getting a haircut just when I wanted one?

- What difference does that make?

- Martha, the last time I was in that barber shop with Dennis,

he made the poor barber so nervous

that the chap had to lie down in the back room

until his hands stopped shaking.

[music playing]

- Hello, Selby.

- Oh, it's you, Mr. Wilson.

- Dennis Mitchell hasn't been in yet today, has he?

- Dennis Mitchell, that little wiggle worm

whose hair won't stay down in the back?

- That's the one.

- Heavens to Betsy, no.

You know something, Mr. Wilson?

I would almost rather be visited by one of those awful creatures

from outer space.

- Oh, now Selby, don't tell me you

believe that ridiculous story in the newspaper.

- No, not really, but it did give me goose pimples.

- I want an especially good haircut today.

I'm having my picture taken by a magazine.

- You don't say Then we will just have

to give you the Selby deluxe gentleman's trim.

- But not too much up around the ears now.

- Now, please, who is doing this, me or you?

- Well, it is my head.

- Aren't you the lucky one, though?

- You know, I'd kill myself before letting

them get their slimy little fingers on me.

- Who's slimy little fingers?

- Why, those creatures from outer space, of course.

One of these days, all it's going to stop being a rumor,

and we will wake up murdered in our beds.

- Oh, Selby, you are speaking hogwash and you know it.

Ow!

- You turned your head.

- Not until you almost cut off my ear.

- Just a teensy-weensy little scratch.

Well, then you

anything to this story about the little space men then?

- Oh, of course not, this fellow Perkins

dreamed the whole thing up.

- I certainly hope so.

RADIO (OFFSCREEN): We interrupt with a bulletin

on the bizarre tail of the space ship.

Authorities have carefully inspected the vacant lot

where it was said to have landed and found nothing.

- Ah, there you see!

- Well, they could've been neat, you know.

RADIO (OFFSCREEN): If strange little men suddenly

sit down beside you at your favorite coffee shop,

don't be surprised.

This is indeed a strange tale, which, if true,

brings science fiction literally down to Earth.

And now back to our music hour.

[music playing]

- Oh, I'll tell you one thing.

Those icky little creatures better not drop by hear

for a shave or a haircut, or I'll-- [yelling]

- Careful, Selby!

- That's a funny place for Mr. Selby to be falling asleep.

- Oh, Dennis, why must you always--

- Wowee!

Look at that, Dennis!

- Jeepers, Mr. Wilson, that's about the most different

haircut I've ever seen!

- Huh?

Great Scott!

- Now you kids wait here in case I need you.

- OK.

- Hi Mom, Hi Dad.

- Well, hello dear.

Now, let's see how your hair looks.

But, Dennis, you didn't get a haircut!

- I couldn't.

Mr. Selby went home sick.

- Sick?

- Well, not exactly sick.

Something scared him.

And Mr. Wilson threw water in his face so he'd wake up.

- I see, exactly what scared him?

- We did, Mr. Mitchell, with our space helmets.

- Poor old Mr. Selby thought we were real space men.

- From Mars.

- Oh dear, and the poor man actually fainted?

- Boy, did he ever.

- And that's when Mr. Wilson had his accident.

- I see, this is getting more interesting all the time.

What sort of an accident?

- Well, Mr. Selby shaved him up the back of his head

with his electric clippers.

- Oh, no!

- It wasn't Dennis' fault, though, honest.

- We look like strange little space men.

- Especially me.

- Where is Mr. Wilson now?

- Home, I guess.

We followed him to the hat store,

but he wouldn't even talk to us.

- Well, young man, I suggest that you take your friends right

next door and ask if Mr. Wilson will let you apologize to him.

- Will you go with us, Mr. Mitchell?

- Me?

- Yeah, we want somebody big on our side.

- I think that's a very good idea , Henry.

- Oh, come on, Alice.

Why should I go over there?

[music playing]

- Martha, hello, Martha.

- George, you bought a new hat.

Well, it's a little large.

- Martha, you might as know, it has

to be large to hide what the barber did to me when

Dennis frightened him, look.

- Oh, George.

- Martha, and I wanted to look so sophisticated for my interview

this afternoon.

- Well, you won't look very sophisticated

if you wear your hat in the house.

- Frankly, I don't know which is worse,

leaving it on or taking it off.

- Well, it hardly shows if you're facing people.

- Oh, fine, then all I have to do until my hair grows back in

is to learn to walk out of rooms backwards.

[doorbell]

- Oh, no, it's too early.

Oh, Martha.

Oh, Dennis, I thought I-- oh, hello Mitchell.

- Hi, Mr. Wilson.

- Well, come in.

- I've been drafted as sort of a senior spokesman for the boys.

They'd like to apologize.

- I suppose you heard what happened to me this morning.

- I did.

- You can see for yourself.

- Oh no!

- And to top it all off, the people from the Graceful Living

magazine are coming over to take my picture

in less than an hour.

I won the essay contest for their magazine

with my article of The Art of Graceful Retirement.

And they're printing it in their next issue.

- You didn't!

Why, congratulations, Mr. Wilson!

That's wonderful!

Isn't that great, boys?

- Jeepers, that's swell, Mr. Wilson!

- Thank you, boys.

- That makes you kind of a celebrity or something,

doesn't it, Mr. Wilson?

- Well, I suppose it is quite an honor, yes.

- We're very sorry about your haircut, Mr. Wilson.

- The boys really mean it, Mr. Wilson.

- Oh, well, children, accidents will happen.

- Gee, you're a swell guy, Mr. Wilson.

- Well, thank you, Dennis.

- And I like your new bathrobe, too,

even if it is kind of short.

- This happens to be a smoking jacket.

- I think it's time we took off, boys.

- You sure you don't want to join our space club, Mr. Wilson?

- No thank you, Tommy.

- You'd look swell with a space helmet, Mr. Wilson,

especially with your new style haircut.

- Fellas, I think there might be some chocolate cake

and milk over at the house for a certain space club.

How about it?

- Oh yeah! - Goodbye.

- Oh, George, I completely forgot.

- You forgot what, dear?

- We haven't a thing in the house to offer your visitors for tea.

- Oh, well, that's no big problem.

We still have plenty of time.

And while you're at the store, I'll

go up and change my pants and shirt.

- Oh, one of the boys must have left this.

- Oh, yes, Dennis undoubtedly.

I wouldn't be surprised if we have more of his things

here than he has at his home.

- Well, I'll be back soon.

- All right, Martha, dear.

[music playing]

- Frank, did you see-- - I didn't see anything.

- Well, let's take a look.

- Well, whatever it was, it looks like it got away.

- That's all right.

- Sure was weird.

- I guess we better report it to headquarters.

Car 691 to headquarters, Officer Quincy reporting.

We just saw what looked like a-- never mind, headquarters.

It's all a mistake, 10-4.

- What did you do that for?

- Well, listen, suppose nobody else ever

sees-- what we just saw.

We turn in a report like that, the next thing we

know the lieutenant's accusing us

of bending the elbow on duty.

- Report on what?

I didn't see anything.

- Me neither.

- Fred?

- Yeah?

- Forget it.

[music playing]

- Mr. Wilson!

- Mitchell, open your front door.

- Mr. Wilson, what are you doing in that thing?

- Mitchell, please, I need your help.

Get me out of this confounded thing!

- Come over here and sit down.

Try and yank it off.

- Those people for the magazine are on their way over!

- Dad, what are you-- wow!

Look at good old Mr. Wilson!

He's joining our club after all!

- Three cheers for Mr. Wilson! - Hip hip hooray!

Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray!

- Dennis, Mr. Wilson's had a little accident.

- How do you get out of one of these blasted things anyway?

- It's easy.

You just pull it off over your head.

- I tried that, but the thing won't come off.

- That's because your heads too fat.

- Dennis, now that you and the boys

have had your chocolate cake and milk,

I think you better go and play.

- Jeepers, Dad!

We'd rather stay and watch.

- Dennis.

- OK, I'm tired of playing space man.

See you later!

- OK, bye Dennis.

- Bye.

- But don't you worry if it doesn't come off, Mr. Wilson.

I was going to get a new one anyway.

- Oh, oh, it's no use, Mitchell.

- Well, there's one good thing about it, Mr. Wilson.

It does cover up that bald strip.

- Never mind about that, the important thing

is to get this thing off my head, Mitchell.

Oh, look at me, a space helmet stuck on my head.

And in a few minutes I'm supposed

to be a living photographic example

of the art of graceful retirement.

- Oh, Mr. Wilson, I see you've joined the club.

- Now, Alice, this is no joking matter.

This thing is stuck on my head.

- Well, why don't you just try pulling it off over your head?

- Careful!

- We tried that.

- His nose is in the way. Henry if you pull up.

- Honey now, be careful.

Push to the left!

To the right!

[grunting]

- Oh, Mr. Wilson, how did it get there in the first place?

- Well, you see, Alice, Dennis left this thing-- oh,

never mind.

Just get it off.

- There's got to be some way to get that off.

- We could always amputate at the neck, I suppose.

[yelping] - It's unbreakable plastic.

It's no use to hit it.

Wait a minute, I've got a friend, Fred Haney,

who's in the plastic business.

If anybody would know how to get that thing off, he should.

The line's busy.

- Oh, well, Mitchell, you keep on trying.

Maybe you can find out something.

In the meantime, I'll go home and change my clothes,

though what good that will do, I don't know.

On second thought, I'd better go around the back.

[music playing]

- Dad says to tell you the line's still busy,

so he's driving down to talk to his friend.

- Oh, fine, and those people from the magazine

will be here in less than 15 minutes.

Let's see, no, where's my tie clasp?

- Maybe it's on your dresser!

[slam] - Dennis!

- Mr. Wilson, I found it!

Open the door, Mr. Wilson!

- Well, just push on it.

It's not locked.

Oh, good grief.

Great Scott!

Dennis!

Call somebody to get me out of this bathroom!

- Jeepers, who Mr. Wilson?

- I don't care who.

Just call the fire department if you have to.

Just get me out of here!

- OK, Mr. Wilson!

[music playing]

- Oh, this can't be happening to me!

- Hello, operator, send a fireman to 625 Elm Street.

- Is this an emergency little boy?

- Jeepers, is it ever!

[alarm]

[sirens]

- Dennis!

- Mr. Wilson, it's all right!

I called the fire department!

- Well, thank good-- you what?

Oh, no!

[sirens]

- Hi, chief!

Mr. Wilson is trapped in the bathroom way up there.

- All right, men, throw up a ladder at that window.

Joe, you see how bad it is inside.

- All right, chief. - Back everybody!

Stand to one side, please!

- Oh no!

No!

I don't want a ladder!

Just get this bathroom door open!

No, no, no!

Go away! Go on!

I don't want it!

- It's the correct address all right.

Little boy, we're from the Graceful Living Magazine.

Does Mr. Wilson live here?

- Yes ma'am, but right now he's being

busy stuck in the bathroom. That's him up there.

- All right, bring him down.

- He refuses to budge!

- Hey, chief, I can't find a trace of fire anywhere inside.

- All right, bring that guy down here.

- Chief!

He says he won't come down without his pants.

- Bring that nut down!

Carry him if you have to!

- Dennis, what is it? - Mr. Wilson!

- If that's an example of graceful retirement, Thornton,

I think I'll keep on working.

- Wowee!

Those striped shorts sure will make a swell picture.

- Good old Mr. Wilson.

He makes everything fun, doesn't he, Tommy?

- Martha, that was very good.

- You poor dear.

Most of this never would have happened

if I hadn't gotten a flat tire on the way to the store.

- Oh, well, now, Martha, no real harm was actually done.

I'm just a little tired.

Besides, my hair will grow back in fast, anyway.

- Well, at least the fire department

did get the helmet off your head, Mr. Wilson.

- And I sure would like to have some magazine offer me

$500 to do a series of articles on how

to get the most out of life.

- Well, every cloud has its silver lining, you know.

- Hey, Mr. Wilson!

- Oh, yes, Dennis.

- Our space club just had a meeting.

And we voted you are head space man of the month.

- Oh, well, thank you.

- See you later.

- Oh, just a minute young man.

Where are you off to?

- I'm going to meet the gang.

Tommy's borrowed his father's electric razor.

And we're going to give ourselves

a swell space haircut just like Mr. Wilson.

- How about that?

They're going to-- hey! come back here!

- What a day, what a day.

[music playing]