Original subtitles

[♪♪♪]

- Whoa! This lobby is laden with Loudons.

- Hi, Michael.

- Michael! I knew I smelled a dozen long-stemmed roses.

- What did you call those things again?

Roses?

- Joanna, I give you flowers.

- I wouldn't call a packet of Burpee seeds romantic.

- Boy, there is no pleasing.

- Anyway, this is my way of saying that

due to a pile of paperwork,

I have to press the pause button on our lunch date.

- Michael, you're a producer. Lunch is what you do.

- Try telling it to that tyrant Nancy.

She's turning the station into a sweatshop.

- I thought the new station owner was a man.

- He is. She's... she's the gofer.

- You're afraid of the office help?

- Jiminy Cricket, Steph. She's bossy and she's whiney.

She complains about every little thing.

Thank goodness I have you to come home to.

- You've been blessed.

- Why don't you plop these posies in Perrier

while I jump on the blab wagon with Dick.

- Snip the ends, fill the vase, change water often.

Oh, Joanna, you're so lucky you never get flowers.

- I've been blessed, too.

- Dick, I don't know how to handle this gofer from hell.

She's already trying to sabotage Vermont Today

by quibbling over next week's guest.

- You mean J.D. Salinger?

- Sure. I mean, that's who you'd be stuck with

if hipper heads hadn't prevailed.

- Who did I get, Michael?

- The Amazing Earl.

- Don't tell me... a fortune teller?

- Pshaw, Joanna. Anyone can predict the future.

The Amazing Earl predicts the past with 90% accuracy.

- There's, uh... there's got to be a trick.

- He was just a normal guy.

Last year, a brick fell on his head,

and he predicted the Beatles would break up.

- Are you talking about The Amazing Earl?

Yesterday, at the town square,

he predicted we'd have a man on the moon by 1970.

- Hi. I'm Larry.

This is my brother Darryl,

and this is my other brother, Darryl.

- "Can o' history"?

- We're collectin' artifacts for our time capsule.

Darryl here feels that George,

as a member of the town's oldest and nearly extinct family,

should be the first to contribute.

- Gee, I'm flattered, but I don't know what to donate.

- Don't you want to leave some kind of legacy,

or at least enjoy the secret thrill of knowing

that somethin' of yours is trapped underground?

- Kind of hard to turn down an offer like that, George.

- How about my hammer?

My dad gave it to me, and his dad got it at Sears.

- Sears.

- Here, Larry.

See if those future folk can keep up with a day in my life.

- Wow! Power breakfast, brunch,

late lunch, high tea,

cocktails, dinner.

Well, no need for a Snickers to tide you over.

- Harris, I'm still waiting for those requisition forms.

- Nancy, let up!

I realize this is your first job in television,

so let's review the chain of command.

You're a...a gofer which puts you right about here.

And I'm a producer which puts me right about here,

and it would take you roughly a bazillion promotions

just to look me in the belt.

- In the time it took you to say all that,

you could have done those requisitions.

Well, Paul and Bud. On another coffee break, boys?

- What if we are?

- I sure hope no one squeals to the new station owner.

- I'm tellin' you, Mike, if it were up to me,

she'd have a size 12 bootmark on her behind.

- Tell him what you did to people like that

in the service, Paul.

- You know, Mike, we can get rid of her.

I mean, just between you, me, the walls, and Bud,

who runs this station?

- Well, natch, that would... that would be yours truly.

- With us behind you, we could send that pushy pest packin'

and have her poundin' the pavement by the p.m.

- Perfectly put, Paul, but practical?

- She's not PIV material, Mike.

I wouldn't be surprised if she sleeps around.

- The harlot!

- Strike while the iron is hot.

Oh, Sue, would you be so kind as to ask Mr. Gorski

to step into Mr. Harris's office?

Thank you.

Now, are we all together on this? Bud?

- I hear she sleeps around.

- Mike?

- Are you sure we shouldn't let this notion

do one more lap around our noggins?

- [CHUCKLES] Pretty noble...

considering how she ragged on your last haircut.

- She criticized my coif!

- What is it, Michael?

- Mr. Gorski, we have a problem.

I'm afraid that gofer's getting a little too big

for her Nancy pants.

- Hmmm, go on.

- Well, she's disruptive.

She's bossy, and as far as her taste in hairstyles...

- Michael says she sleeps around.

- Oh.

- Well, I'm afraid all my instincts cry,

nix this nudnick!

- Well, I certainly admire your courage and conviction

to take a stand like this...

against my daughter who is my single purpose in living.

- A beautiful girl.

- Precious. - Isn't she though?

- And you've spoken your heart and I've listened.

Now get the hell out of here.

- Good job, Mikey.

- Hi! - [APPLAUSE]

We're here to give you a time capsule update

with a hearty thank you

for the generous donation of your penny loafers.

- Penny loafers?

You--you gave them my lucky shoes?

- Honey, they were old and worn.

- Great. Now what am I supposed to wear

with my lucky socks?

- Well, I made a sacrifice, too. I gave them my lavender scarf.

- The one I gave you for your birthday?

- Ooops!

I think I'll go upstairs and ram a spike through my tongue.

- You know, while Darryl was diggin',

he stumbled across quite a find which reminds me...

would you care to join us tonight

in a rousing game of Guess the Carcass?

It's more fun with teams.

- Well, you--you don't have to tell me.

- Miss Stephanie.

May I say that your artifact was the most popular,

at least with Darryl.

- Oh, Larry, of course you may.

- What, uh... what did you donate?

- An authentic, one-of-a-kind Stephanie Vanderkellen lip print

on tissue paper.

- Come on, Darryl.

Let's go grease up for Guess the Carcass.

- Break out the congrats.

Nancy and I are no longer nose to nose

on the same grindstone.

- Well, I'm surprised. I-I thought she'd last.

- Actually, Dick, she did. The ax fell right about here.

- Crawl back, Michael!

Crawl like you've never crawled before!

- No can do, Steph.

I bad-yacked the boss's youngling.

- Nan-Nancy is Gorski's daughter?

- Curse those executive loins of his.

- Michael, you're upsetting the delicate balance

between a high-income job and a showpiece girlfriend.

- Cupcake, I was at that dead-end job too long.

Stagnation may be all right for someone like Dick, but...

I need more upwardly in my mobile.

- I feel a worry wrinkle coming on.

- Unknit that brow, Steph.

This is just the jumpstart I need.

In fact, tonight we celebrate my availability.

How about it, Dick? Open invite.

- Oh, I'm afraid I've got to grease up for Guess the Carcass.

- Well, Mr., uh, X...

Anyone who can type 20 words a minute

will always have a job in this town.

Now report to Rita in Job Placement

for your assignment.

Uh, Michael Harris?

- In the skin.

- I'm Dotty Stansbury.

Now what sort of job are you looking for?

- Well, I'm not picky.

What do you have in the mucho moolah range

with percs aplenty?

- No, I mean, what field are you in?

What skills do you have?

- I look incredible in earth tones.

[CHUCKLES] I can schmooze with the best,

and I'm the king of the countdown.

- Oooh, you must be in television.

- Bingus!

- Rita.

- Yes, Dotty.

- Mr. Harris is in television. - [GASP]

- Do we have anything for him?

Something preferably in the mucho moolah range

with percs aplenty.

- What a lucky day! WPIV needs a producer.

It seems that their last one had sort of a psychotic episode.

He called the owner's daughter a nudnick!

Oh, fiddlesticks.

I just remember I sent that nice Mr. X over there.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Oh. Well, we have an opening for a waiter.

- Sorry, not my table.

- Oh, they need a checker at Meinke's Grocery.

- Excuse me, I don't see any blue in this collar.

- Hmmm, did you say you wanted something

in the mucho moolah range?

- Welcome to my neighborhood.

- Where all your meals would be paid for,

even those you eat at home?

- Company car?

- Of course, and a house.

- [EXCITEDLY] [CHUCKLES] Jinkies!

- And you'd have no responsibilities whatsoever.

- Sounds too good to be true.

- And why do you think that is?

- Because a lot of jobs don't come with houses?

- No, Mr. Harris, because I was making it up.

There is no job. - No job?

- This employment agency only services the real world.

Now as far as I can see, you have no skills,

and you have only ridiculous expectations.

I'm afraid in this town,

that makes you virtually unemployable.

- [DEJECTEDLY] Hi, everybody.

- Some-something wrong, George?

- Uh, my hammer. It's six feet under.

Gone forever.

- George, you have other hammers.

- Yeah.

They're not the same as Old Blue.

- Old, uh...Old--Old Blue?

- Well, I have to call it something.

Sounds dumb to say you just miss a hammer.

- Michael?

- Well, Dick.

[SIGHS] Page out of Ripley's.

[CHUCKLES]

What, uh, what are you doing here?

- Joanna buried my penny loafers.

So wh-what are you doing here?

- Why the third degree, Dick?

- I just thought it was kind of odd, you know,

seeing you at a discount shoe store.

- Pfft, last time I checked,

browsing for Buster Browns was still legal.

- All right, Harris. Break is over. Back to work.

- Michael, you-- you work here?

[SOBS]

- Promise you'll never tell another human being

you saw me here?

- Sure. - Blood buddy promise?

- Do you work here? - No, he does.

- A little louder, Dick.

There's someone across the street who didn't hear you!

- Good afternoon, madam.

May I show you something from our collection of fine vinyl?

- Steph's going to think I'm a failure!

- Michael, there's nothing wrong with working in a shoe store.

What--what are you? The manager?

[SOBS]

- The, uh, the assistant manager?

- My official title is junior apprentice shoe stocker.

[SOBS]

- You the new apprentice?

- No, that would be him.

- So you're the guy that got my old job.

- Look, mister, if you need anyone to show you the ropes,

call on me. The name's Timmy.

[SOBS]

It's okay, mister. I cried, too, my first day.

[CLEARS THROAT]

- Sit down, Dick. Pretend you're buying shoes.

- I am buying shoes.

- Perfect!

Four days ago, I was Michael Harris, TV wonder kid.

Now look at me.

I'm touching people's feet!

Wow, narrow dogs, Dick.

- Maybe, uh, maybe you'll learn something about yourself.

- Really, Dick, can't we crank the dimmer switch

on that bright side?

I want to be Michael Harris again!

- You didn't stop being Michael Harris

just because you lost your job.

- Wake up, Dick! I push pumps!

- Michael, you may have slipped a few rungs

on that ladder of success,

but you're still on... on that ladder.

The...the important thing is to--

to give it all you've got and--

and take some pride in what you do.

- I don't know, Dick.

Timmy left some pretty big shoes to fill.

- Timmy may be good, but you could be better.

I mean, try selling shoes the Michael Harris way.

- Right! The Michael Harris way!

Here, Dick. Why don't you slip these on for size?

- Um, uh, Michael, Michael,

they're... they're a little tight.

- [DESPERATELY] Please, please, Dick!

I need this sale bad!

- Maybe after a little breaking in

th-they'll be all right.

- Well, you'll be sure to want to buy

some of these shoe stretchers.

- Michael, I-I--

- [PLEADING] Please, please, Dick!

Please! I need this sale bad!

Oh, thank you.

Thank you! I love this man so much.

- He'll be-- he'll be with you in a minute.

- Thank you, George.

You're very good in an emergency.

- I never built an eyeshadow rack before.

Did I ever tell you about the time Old Blue and I...

- Yes, yes, George.

- Hi. Ready to gaze in wonder

at the remnants of simpler times?

- Larry, it's--it's only been a week.

A time capsule is supposed to be buried for...100 years.

- We had to open it early. Darryl put in a library book.

- Larry, isn't this silly?

I mean, things can hardly change in a week.

- Sure they can!

For starters, Michael isn't a TV producer anymore,

and our friend, that nice Mr. X, is.

In comparison, time has been much kinder

to your lip print, Miss Stephanie.

- Raspberries in the Snow.

I can't believe I ever wore that shade.

- Maybe not in these modern times,

but a more archaic Miss Stephanie did.

And here we have some kind of primitive pounding device.

- Oh boy!

- Must feel good to see Old Blue again, huh, George?

- Really, Dick, now that I have it back,

it sounds kind of dumb to call a hammer Old Blue.

- Look, ancient footwear.

Evidently worn by some early and narrow-footed townsperson.

- Thank God! With these new shoes,

I was starting to walk like Jerry Lewis.

- And my scarf?

- Eck! What happened? Tomato sauce?

- Yes, ma'am.

I'm afraid I packed it too close to Darryl's donation,

a Domino's pizza.

- Here, you keep it.

In case you meet a nice girl...or something.

- Uh-oh.

It appears that someone has violated the sanctity

of the time capsule for a quick snack.

Well, Darryl, just for that, there'll be no goin'

to the Fluff 'n Fold for those dryer rides.

- What's wrong, Stephanie?

- Oh, I was just remembering the good old days

when Michael had a job.

I miss bragging about him.

- You know, he's still--still Michael,

whether he's a producer... or some--something lower.

- Hello, Steph.

- Michael, why are you talking so...plain?

What's wrong?

- Well, I'm uh, I'm a wee bit wary

about telling you this, Steph.

- Oh, you can tell me anything. You know that.

Now whatever it is, can it really be that bad?

- I'm so lucky to have someone in my life so understanding.

- Get to the point. - All right.

You tell her, Dick.

- Uh, about what?

- It was your idea.

- What was your idea?

- To te-tell Stephanie that... Michael is working in a--

in a shoe store.

- Michael! - [SOBS]

I guess this is goodbye, Steph.

- Goodbye, Michael!

- Wait!

Wait, wait! Wait a minute! This is crazy!

You--you can't break up with someone

just because they're--

they're working in a-a discount shoe store.

- Discount?

- I thought of faking my own death, muffin.

Dick put jerky ideas in my head about being proud of myself,

no matter what I do!

- He would say something like that!

- Dick, do you always have to meddle

in other people's business?

- I'm not--I'm not meddling. I mean, there's--

there's nothing wrong with--with selling shoes.

- Well, Dick, if you're through slapping

a condemned sign on my heart, I'll be going.

- I'll miss you, Michael. - I'll miss you, too, Steph.

- Wait, wait! That's it?

I mean...you-- you give up so easily?

- Well, come on, Dick. I could never respect someone

who dates a stockboy.

- I mean, you've been going together for five years.

You--you--you can't give up that easily.

- What difference does it make how long we've been linked?

I'm a...a shoe man!

- Michael, wait. Don't go.

I think Dick finally said something that makes sense.

- Law of averages.

- And it had something to do with us?

- Yes. Bear with me for a minute.

Doesn't this all remind you

of that sappy Christmas movie you like so much?

- Silent Night, Deadly Night?

- No. That other one,

where all those horrible things happened to that poor banker.

- It's a Wonderful Life .

- That's it, and no matter how bad it got,

that brave and lovely woman stood right by his side,

and in the end, all these people came over

and gave them big piles of cash.

- Yeah, I love that ending.

Stephanie, are you saying you'd be willing to consider

being the brave and lovely cupcake by my side?

- I think I could play that.

You could be my Jimmy Stewart...

and I'll be your Michelle Pfeiffer.

- Wasn't that Donna Reed?

- Not in my version.

- Then we still have a chance?

- Lean on me, Michael.

Somehow I'll find the strength to get us through these

very troubled and hopefully temporary times.

- Jeepers creepers, cuppers! It is a wonderful life!

[APPLAUSE]

- What--what is it they say? Whenever two dumbbells ring...

An angel gets his wings?

[♪♪♪]

- Meow.