Original subtitles

[♪♪♪]

- Hm. - What's the headline, George?

- "Local officials concerned over booming cat population."

According to a recent survey there are, quote,

"A lot of cats in this town."

- That many, huh?

- And they say if the trend continues

by the year 2010 there will be, quote,

"A lot more cats in this town."

- Will this madness never end?

- I don't think so, Dick.

You see, when two cats fall in love, the male cat--

- I know, I know, George!

I was--I was on the porch outside with you

when--when we saw the, um, the show.

- Oh, what a morning.

First, the wallpaper hanger showed up an hour late for work.

- You're over an hour late yourself, Stephanie.

- Then, they just stood around drinking coffee

and gabbing about their personal problems.

Anyway, the carriage house looks great.

You really should see it sometime.

- We'd love to. When?

- Ah, Joanna, that was just an expression.

A pleasantry. It's like when I say, "How are you?"

I don't really expect an answer.

- By the way, Steph, thanks for that

super cocktail party last night.

You must have had 2-300 people there.

- You see, Dick, I wasn't dreaming.

There really was a mile-long conga line

going up and down our driveway.

- Half of Vermont rates and--and we don't?

- Well, I didn't think you'd fit into our circle.

- But George would.

- He scribbles those caricatures of people

that are just out of this world.

Okay, okay, okay.

You want to drop by tonight?

- Well, we hate putting you out like this.

Maybe we should bring our own dinner.

- Aw, you're a dear.

But no red meat.

Michael is trying to lay off.

How about chicken Kiev?

- There's something quick and easy.

[APPLAUSE AND CHEERS]

- Hi, I'm Larry.

This is my brother, Darryl.

And this is my other brother, Darryl.

We're here to return George's drill.

- Aw, thanks.

- Unfortunately, Darryl's root canal

took a tad longer...

than expected.

- Well, here's your problem.

You had the bit in upsidedown.

- Miss Stephanie, thanks again for last night's elegant soiree.

My brother so enjoyed tickling the ivories on your new spinet.

- You and the Darryls were invited too?

- Their Jerry Harmon medley

practically reached religious proportions.

- I'm sure the only thing missing from the evening was us.

- I'm sorry, Dick.

Maybe if you had some hidden talent

it would've warranted an invitation.

- Well, you know, I-I play the--the bongos a little.

- Could you fellows make it over again tonight?

Right now, my dinner party sounds like death.

- Okay. - Thanks.

- Okay, Joanna, chicken Kiev for eight.

- Better make that for nine.

Sometimes Darryl likes to bring his imaginary friend Lionel

to these affairs.

- Oh, wonderful. I'm always looking for an excuse

to spend an entire day in a hot kitchen.

- Then this must be your lucky day.

- Say hey, one and all!

Me and mine are off to the mall.

- Can't you--you just say "Hi"?

- Not when this slap-happy pappy

is charged for charging.

The spring infantware line is in

and I want to scoop up a sack full of those

baby Yves St Laurent stretchies.

- Michael, don't you think you're overindulging

baby Stephanie just a tiny bit?

[MICHAEL AND STEPHANIE LAUGH]

- Thanks for the morning chuckle, Jo-Jo.

- Ha ha ha.

- Oh, by the way, Michael.

We're having another party tonight.

Dick and Joanna invited themselves over.

- Dull as Arenaville.

Then again, they did give us our casa for nada.

- 7-ish?

- The mall doesn't close till 10-ish. How about 11-ish?

- 11-ish? Pretty late-ish.

- Oh, what the heck. I mean, d-doesn't everyone

eat dinner watching Carson?

Ish?

- It's nearly midnight, c-can't we eat?

- And insult our host and hostess?

- Our host hasn't even showed up yet

and our hostess is upstairs soaking i-in a damn bubble bath.

- Okay, who wants another hit?

- Fill it to the top, Pop.

- How I do savor the '66 Chateau la Tour.

A bit pricey but, ooh, that nutty bouquet.

- Oh, down so soon, Stephanie?

You've only been soaking for an hour.

- Well, I knew I had guests waiting.

Joanna, I know you don't get out much,

but is this how we dress for a dinner party?

- See, Joanna, I told you, you should have worn

a towel on your head.

- Apparently that Jack-in-the-box

has tickled my siblings' collective fancies.

[PLAYING MUSICAL JACK-IN-THE-BOX]

An element of suspense

followed by an element of surprise.

The same device exploited by Hitchcock

in his overly spoofed 1960 thriller, Psycho.

- Sorry I'm so tardy.

Mr. Marky's Baby Boutique had a midnight madness sale.

- Oh, Michael, you look exhausted.

Why don't we do this party thing another time?

- But, Cuppers, all your work.

- Oh, don't think about that.

We can do it all again tomorrow night, right Joanna?

- You want us to leave?

- Well, yes, it's after midnight.

Some of us have work in the morning.

Oh, baby is so pretty.

Yes, you are.

Oh yes, you are.

- Well, glad I had that late lunch at 9.30.

- We'll grab a burger at Jack-in-the-Box.

- Tomorrow night, what about seafood?

- Why the hell not?

- Be careful, Dick, you're about to trip over

baby's first cappuccino maker.

- You know, Michael, if you keep buying the baby all this stuff,

sh-she'll grow up to be a spoiled monster like, um...

you know, uh, some character on a--on a TV show.

- But I happen to like characters on TV shows.

Except for that Mrs. Roper on Three's Company .

I still can't look at a muumuu

without thinking of that horny woman.

- Well, since you completely miss my point, I'll be leaving.

[YAWNS]

- What does Dr. Dick know?

Nothing wrong with spoiling your kid.

Is there?

- Baby is so pretty.

Yes, I am.

Oh yes, I am.

- Hi baby Steph. Daddy's home.

- Yay! You look so pale.

Have you been selling your blood again?

- My last pint.

- Oh, goody! Where's my present?

- Here you go, princess!

[SQUEALS]

- A cashmere sweater? And it's so expensive.

It's a good thing you're working five jobs

and Mommy's cleaning toilets at the all-new 2000-room

George Utley Stratford Inn and Casino.

- Well, that still didn't cover the cost.

I had to sell my spleen to buy you that one.

- That's okay, Daddy. Everybody has two spleens.

- No, everybody has two kidneys. Except me.

[COUGHS]

- Oh, that's right. You sold one of yours

to buy me that beautiful graduation sweater.

- By the by, where is that swell sweater

I sent you from Sweden, sweetie?

- Well, let's see.

It must be around here someplace.

I really should start labeling these.

- Honey, remember how I vowed never to rest

until you owned every cashmere sweater in the world?

- Of course, Daddy. You put it in writing.

- Well, this last one makes your collection complete,

and my job is done.

Are you happy, sweetie?

- Oh, Daddy!

I'm the happiest girl in the world!

Of course, I'd be even happier if I had...

every shoe in the world.

- Oh no!

- Aren't I Daddy's little girl?

- Yes, honey, but Daddy's all out of blood.

- Then make some more.

- I'm not sure I can without a spleen.

[SOBS]

- I want pumps, slingbacks, penny loafers, sandals...

- No. - boots...

- No. - slippers, wedges...

- No. - space boots, espadrilles...

- No! - walking shoes...

- No! - jogging shoes...

- No! - running shoes...

- No! - high tops...

- No! - low tops...medium tops...

- No! - hush puppies!

- No. No!

No! No!

No!

Daddy's little girl.

Daddy's little ghoul.

- "Local officials report sharp decline in mouse population."

- On one hand, there are more cats in this town.

On the other, there are fewer mice in this town.

- There almost... almost seems to be a connection.

- Hi.

- Just--just hi? - Oh, Dick Doc, you were right.

Last night I dreamed a little dream of little Steph.

She grew up to be a pouty, albeit pretty, prima donna.

She was like Evita, Leona, Imelda.

- Joanna.

Maybe I don't get this list.

- Maybe--maybe not, George.

- Granted, I admire a healthy dose of selfishness

as much as the next egocentric, but

all this clothes horsie did was take, take, take, take, take.

- And, of course, all that you and Stephanie do

is just take, take, take.

- See the difference? - Night and day.

- My opinion might not mean much,

seeing I'm a childless old bachelor with bum knees

and a trunk full of broken dreams.

- Can we zip this along, G. Geezer?

- Right. Maybe you shouldn't spoil baby Steph.

- But how else can I buy the affection

of my post-fetal femme fatale?

- You don't have to buy it. Just spend time with her.

Take her--take her to the park.

- Park?

- You know, that-- that thing across the street

with--with grass and--and rocks.

- Grass?

- Rocks?

- Think of a park as, um...God's mall.

- Sort of a green galleria. Go, man, go.

- Well, a-a park has swings to play on and hills to climb.

- Hills.

- Let's see, uh....

They are like, uh, out-of-order escalators.

- Screeching tires, this six-cylinder cerebellum

just did a 180!

From now on, we'll go barefoot in the park

and find splendor in the grass

and picnic under the yum-yum tree,

but please don't eat the daisies!

- The Poseidon Adventure !

Dick, did I just miss the point of another list?

- Yup.

- The way I figure it, the rise in the cat population

has something to do

with the decline of the mouse population.

- My brothers scoff at your theory.

They blame the decline in the mouse population

on their wildly successful line

of rodent skin coats and mufflers.

- "Elegant mouse, rat, and weasel skins

"for the discriminating buyer

"who's tired of wearing... feathers."

Well, I know I'm pretty bored with my chicken hat.

- Well, I'm not waiting any longer.

I'm going to serve dinner before my crabcakes burn.

- Is Michael here yet?

- Probably still out looking at trees.

- Trees?

You mean, like they have in those park things?

- Actually, Michael took little Steph

to one of those park things, you know,

to show her the--the best things in life are free.

- Now, who would put a stupid idea like that in his head?

- How--how does Joanna get those mashed potatoes

so--so darned fluffy?

- Home again, home again,

jiggity jog. Sorry I'm late.

I'm late for a very important date.

- Michael, you have shredded green stuff on your Guccis.

You have been to one of those park things.

- No more shopping sprees for our little shiksa.

Wilderness. The good earth.

The lilies of the field.

- The Guns of Navarone.

- Michael, what's wrong with you?

Have you forgotten our vow of materialism?

- But, muffin, I had a dream. I've been to the mountain.

- This is no time to quote Shakespeare.

Michael, read my perfectly-lined lips:

No more park things.

Who knows what horrible effect it could have on our child.

- My mother used to take me to one of those park things

all the time.

- You see?

- Well, a lot you care about my spleen!

[CRIES]

- All right, let's eat.

[SOBS]

- Will you look at the time?

- Imagine how much fun one of these dinner parties would be

if we actually ate dinner.

- I agree, Darryl.

This is eerily reminiscent of our all-naked production

of Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf ?

[MICHAEL SOBS HYSTERICALLY]

- Now somebody's going to enjoy this damn meal.

Hm, those crabcakes look delicious.

- Could my Cuppers be correct?

Is it wrong to nurture my nibblet with nature?

- More wine? Oh, thank you, yes, I'd love some.

Well, maybe just half a glass.

I don't want to get tipsy and start talking to myself.

Do I? No.

- Hi, baby Steph, I'm...home?

What have you done to our carriage house?

- Why, Papa, I've turned it into a soup kitchen

for the unfortunates of this world.

- Oh, baby Steph, you're getting worse.

First it was the Peace Corps and VISTA and Greenpeace.

- Ah, yes. Remember the harpoon I took

in my thigh from that Japanese whaling ship?

- You're a gift from God, blondie.

- No, you are, sir.

- Why are you doing this to yourself?

- Oh, Papa, I just want to make the world a better place.

- Then put on a designer dress and some eyeliner, please.

- But, Papa, those are material possessions.

I know the best things in life are free.

- Who taught you that claptrap?

- Why, you did, when I was two months old

and you took me to that park thing.

- Damn that Dick. I lied.

Look, the best things in life cost lots and lots of money.

Did you get the dozen cashmere sweaters

I sent you from Scotland?

- Ah, yes.

And I hope they're from naturally shedded goats.

Not ones that were sheared against their will.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sure, sure.

Here, look. Here's two more.

- Oh, they're lovely.

- Wait, you're... no, you...

- Oh, very uptown.

- But not so dressy you can't wear it downtown.

- Baby Steph, I order you to stop

giving away your pretty things.

- Who needs expensive clothing?

- You do!

- Oh, Papa, virtue is its own reward.

- Bite your tongue, young lady! If you insist on disobeying,

I'm just going to have to buy you more sweaters.

- I'll just give them away.

- Then I'll buy you shoes.

- I'll just give them away. - Then I'll buy you hats.

- I'll just give them away. - Then I'll buy you dresses!

- I'll just give them away! - Then I'll buy you furs!

- Ew!

- I meant fake furs.

- I'll just give them away.

Oh, Papa, can't you get this through your head?

I don't need possessions to make me happy.

Soup's on, boys!

[STEPHANIE TAPS THE LADLE]

- Your sweaters!

Your sweaters!

These are petite! These men are all medium.

You're a large!

No! No!

These pastels are wrong for your skin tones.

Please, no!

[SCREAMING] Nooooo!

- What's in the evening paper, George?

- Oh, the usual.

War. Politics. Cats.

You know, maybe I'll get a cat.

According to the paper they're supposed to be, quote,

"soft and warm and furry."

- George, if that's what you want,

I'll give you one of Joanna's sweaters.

- Hm, I'll have to think about it.

Let's see.

One will look good wrapped around my shoulders,

the other has a V-neck.

- There you are. - And here I go.

Catch the lights on your way out.

- Halt! Harken to my tale of woe, good knight.

- Goodnight!

- Dick, wait.

Last night I had a Nightmare on Baby Steph Street, Part 2.

I denied my bubeleh her booty

and she grew up to be a kind-to-mankind, man.

- Kids of the future.

- Dick, she wasn't wearing makeup and...

she was an idealist.

- Oh, my God, no.

Michael, obviously,

you're going to have to compromise.

You know, don't--don't deprive Stephanie of everything

but at the same time, don't--don't give her too much.

- And take the chance she won't be gorgeous, Dickens?

Forget it, Fenster.

I'm spoiling my spawned one silly.

- Exactly what I'd do.

- I just have to convince my spousal spitfire

to take me back.

I got it! I'll just plead temporary insanity

on the grounds that I listened to you!

I'll just tell her I was stir-crazy, I was bananas.

That this one flew over the cuckoo's nest.

- The Blob !

- Go to bed, George.

- Goodnight, Dick. - Goodnight, George.

[♪♪♪]

- Meow.