All language subtitles for Dennis.the.Menace.1959.S03E34.John.Wilson.Wins.a.Chicken.1080p.PCOK.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-Dooky_track1_[eng]

- Well, bye, Mom.

Bye, Dad.

- Bye, son.

- Goodbye, dear.

- Hey, you're leaving kind
of early, aren't you?

- Yeah.

Hey mom.

This is your last chance
to buy some more chances.

Our school chicken
raffle is today.

- Well, thank you,
dear, but I think

the five we already
have are enough.

- Chicken raffle?

- Dennis' teacher put some eggs
in an incubator a few months

back so the children
could watch them hatch.

- Ms. Perkins says
we're not old enough

to learn about the
birds and the bees yet,

but chickens are OK,
whatever that means.

- So now the chickens
have grown up.

- Yeah.

They're so big we've
gotta keep them in a pen.

And dad, they've got names.

Red, Sylvia,
Marian, and Cynthia.

- You don't say.

- Anyhow, now the children are
raffling off the chickens.

- And the kids are
gonna use the money

to throw a big party
the last day of school

and eat ourselves sick.

- Sounds like a worthwhile cause.

[theme music]

- Hi Mrs. Wilson.

- Good morning, Dennis.

- Oh, is Mr. Wilson's
brother up yet?

- No, he's still asleep, but he
asked me to call him about now,

so you go on up and do it
and I'll bring up his juice.

- Oh boy.

Him and me have got an important
business deal to talk over.

- Mr. Wilson.
Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Wilson.

Mr. Wilson!
- What?

What?

- Hi Mr. Wilson.

It's me, Dennis.

- Oh, for the love
of-- For a moment

I thought I was
having a nightmare.

- Guess what, Mr. Wilson.

This is your last chance to
give me a dime to win a chicken.

- Little boy, I
told you yesterday,

I am not interested
in participating

in any raffle for a chicken.

- But that was yesterday.

If you don't have
a dime, Mr. Wilson,

I'll be glad to lend you one.

- I have a dime, Dennis.

It's just that I am
not interested in--

[phone ringing]

- Hello?

Yes, this is he.

Well, yes I have.

You would?

Uh, well, I, uh-- yes,
that sounds reasonable.

Y-yes, Mr. Hanson.

Oh, no, no.

Thank you.

Goodbye.

Oh joy!

- Here's your juice, John.

- Oh, thank you, Martha.

Oh, I knew this was
going to be my day.

Dennis and I were just
talking about dimes

when this coin
collector, a Mr. Hanson.

He called and offered me $150
for my 1919 D dime, $50 more

than it's worth.

- Well, that's wonderful.

- He's coming into town today
or tomorrow and he'll call me.

$150 for one thin dime.

Just think of that, Martha.

- I wonder how he knew
you were staying here.

- Oh, well he called
me before I left Ohio.

I told him I was coming here
and he said he'd get in touch.

- I didn't know you had a coin
collection too, Mr. Wilson.

- You didn't?

My boy, for your information,
I was the first member

of the Wilson clan to
have a coin collection.

I taught them all everything
they know about it,

right Martha?

- Right John.

You better get dressed.

I'll go start your breakfast.

- Gosh.

Just think, Mr. Wilson, you
can buy one whole chance from

me and still have $149.90 left.

- My boy.

I'm going to do something
better than that.

- You are?

- Yes, my boy.

You put me down 10 chances.

And now run along to school.

- Oh boy.

A whole dollar!

- That's right, the whole dollar.

- I like you, Mr. Wilson.

- Well, thank you, Dennis.

I like you too.

- You do?

Hey, you know what I'm gonna do
when I come home from school?

- No, what?

- I'm going to come
right over here

and keep you company
for the rest of the day.

- I wonder if I'm too old to cry.

- Mr. Wilson!

Hey Mr. Wilson!

We'll put it right here, Tommy.

- Dennis, what is it this time?

I-- What's this?

- You won a chicken!

- What?

Martha.

Well, I knew this
was my lucky day,

but-- Well, I just
can't believe it.

- His name's Fred.

- He's a boy chicken.

He's called a rooster, Seymour.

- That's right.

Fred rooster.

- Yes, John?

You called me?

- Mr. Wilson won a chicken.

- Can you believe it, Martha?

- Well, my goodness.

He's certainly a chubby
chicken, isn't he?

- I guess you'll be
wanting to build Fred

a bigger chicken
coop, huh, Mr. Wilson?

- I'll even make some
side curtains for it

if you'd like, Mr. Wilson.

- Well, I hardly think that
will be necessary, children.

- Oh, here's some
chicken feed for you.

- Oh, thank you, Dennis.

- He eats like a horse.

- Oh, well, that's
all right, so long

as he tastes like a chicken.

- Tastes like a chicken?

Jeepers, Mr. Wilson.

You're not going to
eat Fred, are ya?

- Well, of course I am, Dennis.

What do you usually
do with chicken?

- But you can't!

- You think he's tough?

- He's our pet.

- He used to be an egg.

- Don't you like
chickens, Mr. Wilson?

- Well, of course
I do, little girl.

Especially the drumstick.

- Why don't you pick on
somebody your own size?

- Come on, kids.

- John, don't you
think perhaps you

should think about this before--

- Now, Martha, chicken
are domesticated fowl

specially raised for
human consumption.

Now, I won it fair and square.

It's the first thing I've
ever won in a raffle,

and I intend to eat it.

- Well, then you will
have to cook it.

- And we, the undersigned,
"respeckably" ask--

- Respectfully, Dennis.

F-U-L-L-Y.

- Respectfully ask you to not
eat our little friend Fred.

If you treat Fred right, he
will be as faithful and a loyal

a pet as Fremont.

- He could lay eggs, too.

- Seymour, Fred's a rooster.

He can't lay eggs.

- Maybe he hasn't tried.

- Quiet, kids.

So we ask you again,
Mr. Wilson, if you

Fred at your table
for dinner some night,

please have him
there as a friend.

- We've already got eight
people to sign it, Mrs. Elkins,

and you'll make it nine.

- It's very well put,
children, and something

I'm very much in sympathy with.

However, I'm afraid a mere
petition won't stop your Mr.

Wilson, if he's anything
like his brother George.

- It won't?

- No, Dennis.

This problem calls
for direct action.

Come on in, children.

- Oh, here's an interesting
recipe, Martha.

Fix chicken on
spit over low fire,

occasionally basting
with orange sauce.

Oh.

Well, of course we could
broil it, or roast it.

What do you think, Martha?

- I think we should have
meatloaf, as I planned.

- Oh, Martha, you're my
favorite sister-in-law,

but if you're trying to talk
me out of that chicken--

[phone ringing]
- Oh, I'll, I'll get it.

It's probably that coin
collector, Mr. Hanson.

Hello?

- This is Mrs.
Elkins, Mr. Wilson.

I live down the block.

- Who is it?

- Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Elkins?

It's a Mrs. Elkins.

You no doubt want
to talk to Martha?

- On the contrary, Mr. Wilson,
I wish to speak to you.

- You do?

- Mr. Wilson, I am chairman
of the local United Fund

to Save Our Feathered Friends.

- Oh, really?

I wasn't aware that I had any.

- Mr. Wilson, this is
no laughing matter.

I am referring to one
feathered friend in particular.

- His name's Fred!

- Uh, Fred.

The children's pet chicken.

Mr. Wilson, you ought to
be ashamed of yourself.

A grown man picking on a
poor, defenseless child's pet.

- What I do with
that silly fowl is

no business of
yours, Mrs. Elkins.

- I am making it my
business, Mr. Wilson.

- Oh, you are?

Well, listen here.

You are not going to tell me
what to do with my chicken,

you--

- Well!

Nasty, nasty man.

If such a thing
is possible, he's

even worse than his brother.

- He's still gonna eat Fred, huh?

- Over my dead body, Dennis.

There must be some
way of keeping him

from eating that poor chicken.

- Maybe let's give him one
of your cats, instead.

- Little boy!

- People don't eat cats, Seymour.

- They're too bony.

- Children, please.

You're scaring Tinkerbell.

There, there, darling.

- What are we gonna
do now, Mrs. Elkins?

- Just a minute, Dennis.

I'm thinking.

- I'm hungry.

- Shh!

Mrs. Elkins is
thinking, Seymour.

- Let me see.

What did I do in the
campaign of my club's help

save the hollyhocks
in our parks?

Of course.

That's it!

- Oh, boy!

What's what, Mrs. Elkins?

- Come along, children.

With a little fresh
paint, I think

I have the answer
right in my garage.

- Fred?

Fred?

Yeah, Fred.

Now, I don't want you
to take this personally,

because this sort
of thing happens

to thousands of
chickens every day.

Fred.

- John.

Oh, I do wish you wouldn't.

- Martha, I assure
you, the children

will have forgotten all
about it by tomorrow.

Now, go on in, and let
me get on with this.

Fred?

It won't do you a bit of good
to look at me with those soft

brown eyes.

Martha?

- Yes, John?

- Ah, Martha, would you get
the small strip of cloth?

I think I'll
blindfold him first.

- Blindfold him?

While you're at
it, why don't you

tie his hands and feet together,
lean him up against the wall,

offer him one last
cigarette, and shoot him?

- You don't have to be
sarcastic about it.

- John, why don't you just kill
the poor, defenseless thing

and get it over with?

- Martha!

On second thought,
I think I'll let

him fatten up for a few days.

- I didn't think you'd be
able to kill that chicken.

- Oh, is that so?

Would you just wait?

I'll--

CHILDREN (CHANTING):
He's our friend!

He's our friend!

Don't eat Fred!

He's our friend!

Don't eat Fred!

He's our friend!

Don't eat Fred!

He's our friend!

Don't eat Fred!

He's our friend!

Don't eat Fred!

He's our friend!

Don't eat Fred!
He's our friend!

- Well, of all the--

- He's our friend!

- Uh, Mrs. Elkins, I presume?

- That's right, Mr. Wilson.

- And just what do you think you
and your midget army are doing?

- She's helping us to talk you
out of eating Fred, Mr. Wilson.

- I see.

You realize you're
trespassing, of course?

- Oh, John.

- Please, Martha.

I'll handle this.

- Go right ahead, Mr. Wilson.

Call the police.

We are quite prepared to
go to jail to save a life.

Right, children?

- That's right, Mrs. Elkins!

- Oh, this is ridiculous!

Just what do you expect me
to do with that silly bird?

Adopt it?

He's a chicken.

I won him, and if I want to
eat him, I'm going to eat him.

- You cannibal.

- Cannibal?

You agitator!

- Excuse, me, folks.

- Oh, hello, Henry.

- Mr. Mitchell, can
you talk this am out

of the wanton spilling
of innocent blood?

- The wanton spilling of--
now, see here, Mrs. Elkins--

- Don't you shake your
fat finger at me.

- Is that so?

It's my fat finger, and if I--

- Mrs. Elkins, let's see if we
can't settle this amicably.

Now, let's see.

John, you won the chicken,
and you want to eat it.

Correct?

- That is correct, Henry.

- And the children
and you, Mrs. Elkins,

want to spare the
chicken's life.

- Precisely.

- Well now, John,
supposing you were

to be given a chicken
the same size as Fred,

only freshly dressed, in return
for which you would allow Fred

to stay here, with the children
taking care of him, of course,

until they found
another home for him,

would that be all
right with you?

- Well--

- It certainly sounds
fair to me, John.

- All right, Henry.

I agree.

- I'll go along with
that, Mr. Mitchell.

- Oh, boy!

Did you hear that, kids?

Fred's safe!

[cheering]

- Now, don't you
kids forget you're

to find Fred a new home
as soon as possible.

- All right, children.

Fall in.

Let's take the signs
back to my garage.

[whistle] Forward march!

- Huh, to you, too.

[crowing]

[crowing]

- 4:00 in the morning.
[crowing]

- Oh, shut up!

Ah!

[crowing]

- Will you please--

[knocking]

- Yes?

- Is anything wrong?

- Not with me, but something
tells me our friend

out there is not too
long for this world.

- You promised the children that
you wouldn't hurt that chicken.

- I'm not going to
hurt him, Martha.

I'm going to kill him!

- John Wilson, I'm
disappointed in you.

A promise is a promise.

- Oh, all right, Martha.

You didn't promise.

- Oh, John!

[crowing]

- There's your happy
chicken, Alice.

I hope you're satisfied.

- My chicken?

- You talked me into saving
that silly rooster's life,

didn't you?

[crowing]

- Henry, where are you going?

- Mr. Wilson's brother promised
not to kill that chicken,

but I didn't.

- Henry Mitchell, you
get right back in bed.

[crowing]

[phone ringing]

[crowing]

[phone ringing]

- Yes?

- Mr. Wilson, the
least you can do

is to put that noisy
chicken in your basement,

so that it doesn't wake
up the whole neighborhood.

- Why, Mrs. Elkins, do
you mean to tell me

that our feathered
friend woke you u

- Woke me up?

Of course he woke me up!

- Good.

You made your bed.

Now you can toss on it!

- Hey, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Wilson.

- Oh, uh, Dennis, did you
find a new home-- oh, no.

Your father said I'd get one all
dressed and ready for the oven.

- Oh, this one isn't
for eating, Mr. Wilson.

This is Marian, another pet.

- Good heavens.

- We haven't found a
home for Fred yet,

but the lady that won Marian
didn't want her, either.

- So, we thought maybe if you
put Fred and Marian together,

and treated 'em nice, maybe
they'd make you some eggs.

Come on, Tommy.

- Dennis, I don't want any eggs.

I don't want
another pet chicken.

All I want is to get
rid of the one I have.

- Well, hello, boys.

- Oh, hi, Sgt. Mooney.

Mr. Wilson, this is Sgt. Mooney.

- We've already met,
Dennis, Well, Sergeant,

what can I do for
you this fine day?

- Eh, those aren't chickens I
see there, are they, Mr. Wilson?

- Those?

Of course not.

Those are butterflies
with gland trouble.

- Well, it so happens
that we've had

a complaint about a certain
butterfly with gland trouble

that's been crowing his
silly head off all night.

- Oh, you don't say?

And who complained?

A jealous rooster?

- Mrs. Elkins.

- Yeah-- Mrs. Elkins?

Why that-- that--
well, she's the reason

that rooster's here
in the first place!

- I can't help that.

There's a city ordinance
about keeping chickens

in a residential area.

- Now see here, sergeant!

Only one of those chickens is
mine, and I'm getting rid of it

today.
- Good.

That'll save you from getting
another ticket tomorrow.

- But sergeant,
I-- tell you what.

You forget that ticket, and you
can have both those chickens.

- What?

- Both of them.

They-- the pen thrown in.

- Hey, that's a swell
idea, Mr. Wilson.

- They do look nice
and plump, don't they?

- And all you gotta
do, Sgt. Mooney,

is to promise to keep them as
pets instead of eating them.

- Keep them as pets?
- Sure.

They make swell little friends.

- Well, you see, sergeant, I
sort of promised the children

that they wouldn't be killed.

- Listen, my friend, if you
weren't George Wilson's

brother, I'd haul
you in for trying

to bribe an officer of the law.

The idea, trying to
corrupt an honest cop

with a couple of pet chickens.

Here.

- Oh, that--

- Don't say it, Mr. Wilson.

Remember, there are
little kids around here.

- John.

Mr. Hanson just called.
- Yeah?

And?

- He said he'd be here
any minute to inspect

that rare dime of yours.

- Oh, the coin collect-- Why
didn't you say so, Martha?

I'd better get ready.

- Well Tommy, I guess we'll just
have to find Fred a new place

where he can sleep
nights so he won't--

- Hey, Dennis.

Do you see what I see?

- Oh boy, she did it.

She did it!

It's an egg.

Marian laid an egg!

Mr. Wilson!
Mr. Wilson!

Come quick!

- Dennis, what is it?

- Come over here, Mr. Wilson.
- What?

- Down there, look!

- Well, what is it?

- Don't you see it?

Marian laid an egg for you.

- Dennis, did you drag me all
the way out here just to--

- Hey Mr. Wilson, you
dropped something.

- My dime.

- Uh oh.

Fred just swallowed something.

- Whatever it was, he sure had
a hard time getting it down.

- Did-- Did-- That beast
swallowed my dime.

I'll kill it.

I'll kill--

- No you won't, Mr. Wilson!

Remember, you promised!

- Give me my dime
back, you thief!

- He's not a thief.

He found it.

- John, Mr. Hanson is here.

- Fred.

Cough.

I haven't got time now, Martha.

I-- oh!

Oh, Mr. Hanson.

- All ready to show
me your 1919 D dime?

1919 dime.

Oh, yes, of course.

- You do still have it?

- Uh, ye-- yes.

There's just one thing.

- It's inside Fred.

- Dennis, please.

- Inside who?

- Fred.
- Yeah.

Mr. Hanson, there's
been a little accident.

But in view of the
price you have offered,

I'm willing to give
you the dime and throw

in those two chickens.

- Two chickens?

But--

- But remember, Mr.
Wilson, he's gotta promise

to give Fred and Marian a good
home until they die of old age.

- Dennis, please.

- Now, you see, Mr. Hanson--

- Jeepers, mister,
you'll not only get

your dime and two swell pets--

- But fresh eggs besides.

- Children, let me
do the talking.

Mr. Hanson, I will
personally guarantee

that the dime
inside that chicken

is exactly as represented.

And I, uh, well,
I'm not finished.

- Well, I am.

You nut, you!
- Mr. Hanson!

That does it.

I'll murder that two legged
slot machine with my bare hands.

- Look Mr. Wilson!

Fred didn't swallow
your dime after all.

- Mr. Hanson!

Mr. Hanson, I've got it!

Mr. Hanson!

Hold it!

Mr. Hanson!
Mr. Hanson!

- Mr. Wilson!

- Hello Alice, Henry.

- We've got good
news for you, John.

- We've just talked to Phil
Tyler, a distant relative

with a farm upstate,
and he said he'd

be glad to give
Fred a good home.

- Did you hear that, Tommy?

- Hey, what about
Marian, Mrs. Mitchell?

- Marian?

- She's the girl
chicken visiting Fred.

- I don't see why he
should have any objection

to take Fred's girlfriend along.

- Oh boy.

Isn't that swell, Mr. Wilson?

- Oh, it's just
patchy dandy, Dennis.

- Now John, you should
be glad everything's

turned out so well.

You've got your
valuable dime back

and Fred's got a good home.

Well, I-- I suppose
you're right, Martha.

- Gosh.

Just think.

Fred and Marian
can live together

and raise a family
like other chickens.

- Nobody's gonna eat him up.

- That's right Tommy.

- You better come along, Dennis.

Time to get cleaned up.

We're almost ready for dinner.

- OK, bye Tommy.

- Bye Dennis.

- Bye.

- What are we having
for dinner, mom?

- Fried chicken.

- Oh boy.

- Great Caesar.

[theme music]

NARRATOR: This has been a
Screen Gems film production

from the Hollywood studios
of Columbia Pictures.