Original subtitles

Wrong!

Right!

Grandpa, I say you're wrong!

Wrong, wrong, wrong!

And I say I'm right!

Oh, these friendly little family discussions.

I say every child should learn how to play a musical instrument, you big frump.

I say never force a child to do anything, you big clod.

Lily. Yes, dear?

What do you say? I say...

I say I'm not sure.

There. That makes it two against one.

Wait a minute. Where do you get two?

Myself and Mr. Gateman, my boss.

Having Eddie try out for the school orchestra was his suggestion.

And when Mr. Gateman makes a suggestion, Herman obeys it.

Thank you, dear.

Grandpa, the argument is over.

Now blow out your fingers.

Eddie, is that you?

Yeah, Mom.

Hello, dear. Hi.

Eddie.

Eddie, does this case contain a musical instrument?

He did it!

Out of all the boys in his school...

my son made the school orchestra.

Congratulations, Herman.

A trumpet!

Eddie, let's hear you play something on it, Son.

Eddie, did you request the trumpet or did your teacher assign it?

He assigned it. I requested a triangle.

♪♪

Very, very good, Son.

Never mind about the clinkers.

This is just the beginning.

That's just what I'm afraid of.

Marilyn, do you know what Mr. Gateman said to me down at the parlor today?

I give up.

He said, "Munster, after two weeks of practice...

"how does little Edward like his musical instrument?"

Well, that ain't exactly the Gettysburg Address.

Herman, what did you say to Mr. Gateman?

I told him that Eddie loves his trumpet.

That he was born for the horn.

Right, Son?

May I please be excused? Before you finish your dessert?

Here, Eddie, let me peel you a pit.

No, thanks, I'm full.

There's a movie called Captain Blood on television.

Oh, good. Very well then, dear. Run along.

One second, Son. Did you finish your homework?

Yes, sir.

Did you practice your trumpet?

No, but I'll practice during commercials. I promise.

No, you won't, Edward. You'll practice right now before you turn on the set.

Go in there, Son, and limber up the old lip.

Please do not mumble about me behind my back...

unless you do it to my face.

Herman, don't you think we may be pushing the child too hard?

In a field in which he may have no talent.

♪♪

♪♪

What do you mean no talent?

Well, I...

By George, I think he's got it.

With all due respect...

making me practice today is a dirty rotten gyp.

Why? Because today is Sunday.

And Sunday is the day of rest.

Okay.

I'll make a deal with you.

On the day of rest, you practice sitting down.

Thanks.

Pop.

I wish there was a way I could learn to play by magic.

There isn't.

♪♪

Now let me see if I can remember this, Igor.

I got it!

Here we are.

♪♪

Three strands of Leonard Bernstein's favorite sauerkraut.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

A glass of water from the beautiful Blue Danube.

♪♪

♪♪

And one chopped photograph of Ludwig van Beethoven.

♪♪

A stein of beer from The Whippenpoof Song.

♪♪

And a bucket of bilge water from the H. M. S. Pinafore.

♪♪

♪♪

All right.

All right, Igor.

I know it's enough to drive a bat bats.

Perch.

Perch.

Scat.

Hi, Grandpa. How are you?

Well, what have we here?

We have a Sunday treat.

Marilyn...

when an old man asks you a question, it's polite to answer him.

It's a...

It's a Sunday treat.

I made a fresh batch of sour lemonade...

and Aunt Lily made these gorgeous cookies.

Mummy.

Scorpion.

And a dinosaur.

It's not as good as having the real thing.

But I guess it will have to do.

You bring these in and I'll carry in the lemonade.

All right.

Herman, Lily, Marilyn...

Grandpa and Eddie.

♪♪

Fresh ice-cold lemonade.

Ice-cold lemonade here.

Ladies first.

Thank you, Grandpa. Marilyn.

That lemonade's wonderful.

Herman.

You first. Age before beauty.

Now, let me see, which one shall I take?

Herman, it's polite to take the one closest to you.

Don't you have any manners, you stupid clod?

Killjoy.

Eddie.

Thanks, Grandpa. I'm thirsty.

These spider cookies are good.

You know, I've been just wondering...

♪♪

- Eddie, that was magnificent. - That was just fantastic.

I know.

Eddie!

Is my son a musician or is my son a musician?

I'm gonna have Mr. Gateman come over here at 8:00 tomorrow night.

Tomorrow night?

I sure hope I can whip up another batch in time.

What did you say, Grandpa?

Nothing. I was just talking to myself.

What a night it will be!

Well, girls.

Is everything going smoothly?

Mr. Gateman is very fussy, you know.

Down at the parlor, he even insists that the shoes be shined.

Uncle Herman, everything is going fine. Relax.

No, I am not going to relax until later.

When I hear the words:

"Munster, your son is a musical genius...

"and I'm going to use my influence to arrange his first concert."

What's on tonight's menu?

Iguana soup...

salamander salad with centipede dressing...

and rolled hyena-foot roast.

Goody! That's just what Mr. Gateman likes.

Nothing fancy, just plain home cooking.

Get back in there.

You're not done yet.

"Potions for the fine arts...

"such as painting, sculpture, music, and bowling.

"They must be frequently repeated in order to remain effective.

"Caution...

"always use the same formula.

"If not, therein lies disaster."

Hi, Grandpa. What's cooking?

Herman, can't you to show some respect for tonight's guest of honor?

Why don't you go upstairs and change your socks?

I already did. Good.

Then go upstairs and rehearse your groveling.

Hi, Igor.

Hi, Igor.

Grandpa, Igor snubbed me.

He can't hear you. He's wearing ear muffs.

Why?

Search me. Who am I to tell a bat how to dress?

Let me see now if I can remember this.

Was it Beethoven's sauerkraut and Bernstein's photograph...

or was it Bernstein's sauerkraut and Beethoven's photograph?

And the first man said:

"The dog can't talk...

"the mouse is a ventriloquist."

That'll do, Munster.

Don't overdo it.

Mr. Gateman, I think we can conservatively say, sir...

that you have the best sense of humor in the United States.

Mr. Gateman, would you care for some more pie?

Mrs. M...

being that I'm in a gay party mood, I would love some.

Isn't Mrs. M. a good cook?

Indeed she is. "Fit for a king," to coin a phrase.

And Mr. G. is a good eater.

Or as we say down at the parlor:

"He is one guy who really knows how to put it away."

My sense of humor does not include jokes at my expense.

Shall I cut it for you, sir?

No, and stop begging just because you carved my iguana.

Count Dracula.

There was something from some garden...

chicken soup from Liberace...

Grandpa, our guest is speaking to you.

Yes, young man?

You've been as quiet as a customer all evening.

I'm basically shy.

Where's little Edward?

Eddie is in the living room getting ready to play for us.

Then we mustn't keep him in suspense.

Let's go inside and start the concert.

Look at those interesting patterns the candlelight makes on the ceiling.

Well, that's enough there, folks.

Eddie, you forgot your milk.

Munster, put me down! Yes, sir.

I know you have to have your milk. Go ahead, drink it down like a good boy.

That's it. Good boy.

Would you like me to slip off your shoesies?

No. But I would like your assurance...

that the music will be confined either to semi-classical or classical.

I detest these new sounds like the Black Bottom and the Lambeth Walk.

Ladies and gentlemen...

it gives me great pleasure to introduce my son, the genius...

Master Edward Wolfgang Munster...

who will now play a selection...

from the ever popular Carnival in Venice.

♪♪

Munster. Yes, sir.

I have just two words for you.

I'm insulted?

No. You're fired.

Oh, dear!

Edward, why did you play...

that jazz...

instead of the ever popular Carnival in Venice?

Beats me, Daddy-O. Like, man, something just came over me, like...

What?

What?

It was a mistake anyone could make.

Grandpa, that's not true.

Marilyn's right.

It's a mistake only you could make.

That's right, go ahead. Go right ahead and pick on me.

But where were the complaints after my first potion?

We didn't even know it existed.

If we had, do you think we would have let you give it to Eddie?

We don't even let you help him with his homework.

Speaking of homework...

when I asked Eddie to come to breakfast or he'd be late for school...

he told me he isn't going to school.

Why not?

His exact words were:

"Mommy-O, education is Squaresville."

Is that so?

Well, I am going to give him some exact words of my own.

Lily, according to my mathematical calculations...

the unpleasant side-effects...

of my potion on Eddie's personality will wear off shortly.

How short is shortly?

Any time between the next two minutes and six months.

♪♪

Eddie.

Cool it, baby, cool it.

I am en route to your admittance.

To what do I owe the birdness of your company?

Oh, I just wanted to come up and have a little...

father to sonny-O chatty-O.

Groovy.

Say, listen, man, why don't we...

take a seat in your pad here...

and take a loadsville off our feet.

Your mommy-O tells me...

like, you don't want to go to school.

You know it, man.

Like, my motto is...

don't be a high school dropout...

drop out in grammar school.

Man, that's a real groovy idea but...

like, what do you plan to do instead...

like.

Like, my horn and I are gonna jet to Vegas...

and blast our way into a lounge act.

Man, that idea is 23 skidoo but...

don't you have to be sixteensville to get a work permit?

Gosh, Pop! I never thought of that.

Eddie, Son, you called me "Pop."

And you spoke in English.

Sorry, Daddy-O...

I don't dig what flipped me.

But you loan me the bread for the plane fare...

and I'll repay you as soon as possible. Honest, Pop.

There, you did it again.

Son, the potion is wearing off.

You all right?

Yeah, Pop. I guess so.

It feels like something's going on inside my brain.

Something is.

And now let's see if the cure is complete.

Play something.

♪♪

♪♪

That's enough, Eddie.

Son, welcome home.

You're my own little boy again.

Mr. Gateman.

Good evening, Munster. I'm here to give you back your job.

Then you discovered, sir, that the parlor can't run without me?

No, as a matter of fact I discovered the parlor runs better without you.

But I fired you unjustly, so I'm letting you come back.

Mr. Gateman...

if I can only find words to express my humble gratitude...

I wish to offer the entire Munster family an apology.

My behavior the other evening was inexcusably rude.

Well, now that you mention it, I'd like... Grandpa.

Shush.

Especially for a man famous for his sense of humor.

Please accept my apologies. Of course.

And please give me a second chance to hear little Edward play his trumpet.

But... A second chance?

Mr. Gateman, I think maybe... Just a minute, girls.

Girls.

Since Mr. Gateman is Herman's boss...

I do think we should leave the decision...

to good old Hermie boy.

My decision?

Well, let me see.

I think that after the way Mr. Gateman has treated me for years...

that if he wants to hear my son play the trumpet...

why not?

Should I let him have Carnival in Venice, Pop?

Yes, Eddie. Let him have it.

♪♪