Original subtitles

[whinnies]

Hello. I'm Mister Ed.

♪ A horse is a horse, of course, of course ♪

♪ And no one can talk to a horse, of course ♪

♪ That is, of course, unless the horse ♪

♪ Is the famous Mister Ed ♪

♪ Go right to the source and ask the horse ♪

♪ He'll give you the answer ♪

♪ That you'll endorse ♪

♪ He's always on a steady course ♪

♪ Talk to Mister Ed ♪

Boy, I'm fit to be tied.

Mule head.

Agh.

[grunts]

Imagine that.

Bosh!

The nerve of that editor.

Guys like him ought to be shot.

I'm never going to read his paper again.

Ed, what are you doing?

Look at that paper on the floor.

Read that editorial.

Hmm.

"Horse Becoming Extinct.

No place for equine in today's world."

Hear what he called me?

Ed, equine, that's just another name for horse.

Well, I have another name for that editor. Jerk.

Don't get upset.

The man is just trying to make a sociological point.

Yeah, some nerve saying horses are useless.

Ed--

It's vicious propaganda.

A smear campaign.

Ed--

I demand equal time.

Oh, Ed, the man is just stating a few facts.

Let's face it, the cars replaced the horse in the city,

and tractors replaced them in the country.

No matter where you look, the horse is being replaced.

Yeah? And what does Matt Dillon ride on?

A gopher?

Ed, you're being a little too sensitive.

Come.

Oh, sensitive.

Ed, just look at your room.

Aren't you ashamed of yourself?

No.

Now look, you just calm down. How about some lunch?

The way I feel right now, if I ate, I'd get an ulcer.

Come on, Ed. Eat some hay.

I'm not eating a thing

till you let me tell off that editor.

Ed--

I'm on a hunger strike.

If you're on a hunger strike, why are you eating?

You don't expect me to start one on an empty stomach.

Look, you clean this room up. I'll see you later.

Wilbur, I need your help.

You know that beach property I bought some time ago?

Don't tell me. The tide came in.

You want me to help you look for it.

That's like you. I need help,

and you throw me an iron life preserver.

I'm sorry, Rog. What can I do to help you?

Well, a bunch of teenage beachcombers

have set up camp on my property and refuse to budge.

Now all day long they lie around

playing records, toasting weenies,

building camp fires, riding surfboards.

What do you think I ought to do?

Join them. It sounds like they're having a ball.

I'm worried, Wilbur.

Now these young beatniks are destroying the value of my property.

And the worst part of it is my wife will not let me chase them off.

And you want me to talk to her?

I very rarely ask a favor of you, Wilbur.

All right, I'll talk to Kay.

Fine. Now, put this on the basis of facts.

You are an architect. You know the value of property.

You can be very persuasive when you want to be.

True. I don't have much luck with Carol,

but I do pretty well with other men's wives.

What I mean is--

I'm sure you've had a very exciting past,

but tell me some other time.

No.

[Carol] I think if we raise the hem about 2 inches,

my dress would be in style again. Don't you think so, Kay?

Well, I don't know, sweetie.

The way they keep raising and lower the skirts these days,

we might as well wear Venetian blinds.

[both chuckle]

Just tell her those beach lizards

have no right squatting on my property.

They're as good as unsquatted right now.

Carol, this may be a little bit too short,

but you're tiny. Maybe you can get away with it. We'll see.

Kay, I was discussing the beach situation with Wilbur.

That's right. And I think--

Yes? What do you think, Wilbur?

I think that, um...

I-- I think--

I think that hem is much too high.

Oh, but, Wilbur, they're showing knees this year.

They're also showing navel oranges.

Oh, honey, don't be so old-fashioned.

Old-fashioned? I just don't like my wife

parading her kneecaps in public.

Don't you think I'm right, Rog?

Wilbur, the beach.

On the beach, it's all right to show your kneecaps, but--

What a wonderful idea, Carol.

Why don't we all go to the beach this Sunday?

Oh, I'd love it.

We could lie around in the sun and--

Yeah, we could play records. We could build a bonfire.

We could toast weenies. We could ride surf boards.

What do you think, Rog?

Those words do have a familiar ring, don't they.

Oh, oh--

Uh, Kay, I was just talking to Rog,

and he was talking about those kids

that are camping on your beach property.

Is this too high, Wilbur?

Um, hmm.

Oh, but, Wilbur, it's the style.

I've got to show a little knee.

Well, all right, but just up to the dimple.

Wilbur, you were telling Kay

about the beachcombers on my property.

Oh? Oh, yeah.

Kay, I agree with Rog. Those kids just don't belong.

That's just their trouble,

people saying they don't belong.

That's why those kids feel rejected.

Kay, why don't you listen to an impartial opinion?

Wilbur, what do you think?

I think one of her knees is lower than the other.

Oh, it's just the way I'm standing.

I'm through talking. It's time for action.

I'll have them evicted by the police.

[phone rings]

Hello?

Oh, hello, Buzz.

2:00 will be fine.

Goodbye.

Who was that?

Buzz Dixon, one of those beach kids.

He's coming by at 2:00 to ask you for a favor.

Favor? What favor?

He didn't say.

Maybe he wants to build some units on your beach property.

- Wilbur-- - I know. Go home.

I'm going to tell off that editor.

Hello, operator.

Get me Smedly 3-4000

I said Smedly- S as in Sea Biscuit,

M as in Man-of-war, E as in Equipoise--

Oh.

Ed, who were you calling?

That smart-aleck editor.

Ed, I told you to forget about that editorial.

How would you like it if somebody told you

there was no place for people in the world today?

I'd become a horse.

Look, Ed, stop worrying about the editorial.

I'll get you some more hay.

I told you I'm on a hunger strike.

Come on, fella.

If you don't let me tell off that editor,

you'll have a fading horse on your hands.

Ed, if you feel so strongly about it,

why don't you go down there and bawl him out in person?

You've got a mouth. You can talk.

You know I only talk only to you.

Which is very foolish.

Well, I bet if that editor heard a horse talking,

he'd stop saying they were extinct.

If he heard me talk, the shock would make him extinct.

Take my advice. Eat your lunch. Forget the whole thing.

I got to mail a letter.

Can I get you some apples?

Well, maybe a few pounds.

Good.

We've got to keep your strength up while you're on that hunger strike.

Yeah, that's right. That's right.

Yeah, yeah.

Wilbur, do you mind if I hide in your barn?

Kay and those beachnik kids are looking for me.

Oh, Rog, look. If you're worried about selling that beach property,

I think I may have a prospect for you.

- A prospect? - Well, don't get your hopes up.

I spoke to a client of mine,

and he's building a house at the beach,

and I recommended your property.

Wonderful.

Oh, and if you close the deal,

I'll give you the customary 2% commission.

Don't you mean the customary 5% commission?

Well, it's 5% when you're dealing with strangers,

but since you and I are friends, Wilbur--

Just call me Mr. Post.

[Kay] Oh, Addison.

Now, remember, you don't know where I am, Mr. Post.

Oh, Wilbur, Wilbur, my pal Wilbur.

[Kay] Hi, Wilbur.

Oh, Addison?

Addison,

come with me. I want you to meet some new people.

They're just darling.

This is my husband Mr. Addison.

- Hi, daddy-o. - How do you do, sir?

And our neighbor, Mr. Post.

- How do you do? - Mr. Post.

And this is Buzz Dixon and Zelma Beasley.

Aren't you a little early for trick or treat?

Well, that's my husband, always making little jokes.

Littlest jokes you ever heard.

[laughs]

I got to mail this letter.

This is for you, Mrs. Addison. I painted it myself.

Oh, thank you, doll.

Oh, what a wonderful subject. Why, it's, um, unique.

I know just the spot for it, over my fireplace.

I know a better spot, in the fireplace.

I'm a very busy man. What is it you came to see me about?

Well, Mr. Addison, we came to, like, ask you a big favor.

We'd like to put up some lean-tos, like,

on your property so we can make it like an art colony.

Fine, the rent will be, like, $250 a month.

Gee, we don't have that kind of money.

Man, we don't have any kind of money.

Addison, they're not harming our property in any way.

That's right. We're not taking any sand,

and the ocean is just where it always was.

That happens to be a very exclusive piece of property.

And no one is going to buy if they find it overrun

by a gang of waterlogged adolescents.

There it is again--

rejection, rejection, rejection.

[Buzz] Cast out by a world we didn't make.

You'll be cast out by the police if you don't get off my lot.

Addison, please.

Aren't you kids being a little over-dramatic?

I mean, having such a pessimistic attitude at such a young age.

Oh, we dig pessimism. We love it.

Would you want to, like, hear a poem Zelma wrote?

I think I can, like, resist the temptation.

Uh, we'd like to hear it, sweetie.

If you'll excuse me.

I call it

"Rejected, Neglected, Befuddled, Bemuddled."

[Buzz] Oh, it's a gasser.

A nothing. A zero. A hole in the cheese.

The scene can't be made

when you're in the deep freeze.

Rejected, neglected, befuddled, bemuddled.

The moment is wild.

We're blown off our course.

That's why our youth feels extinct like the horse.

[Buzz] Do you dig it, pops?

I'd rather bury it.

You take my advice and vacate my property by midnight tonight.

Gee, we're holding our first exhibit tomorrow.

We sent out a lot of postcards.

Do you think you could talk Mr. Addison

into letting us stay a few more days?

Oh, I'll try.

I've talked him into letting me stay for 20 years.

But you're not sure, huh?

Well, I'm afraid I couldn't promise you anything.

The story of our life.

Rejection, rejection, rejection.

There's no place for us kids today.

Oh, dear. Come on, kids.

I'll give you a piece of cake and some milk.

And there's no place for us horses today.

We're rejected,

neglected,

befuddled,

bemuddled.

[sighs]

Ed, what's going on here?

Just call me Ed the beachcomber.

What started all this?

Those kids that were here yesterday?

Yep, we're birds of a feather.

Rejected, neglected, befuddled, bemuddled.

Oh, what do you know? A beatnik horse.

[chuckles]

What got you started on this painting kick anyway?

It's therapy to relieve my depression.

Hmm. Well, let's have a look here, huh?

Yeah, that's-- that's depressing, all right.

What is it supposed to be?

I'm calling it "The Horseless Headman."

"The Horseless Headman"?

That's right.

The whole world is going to be horseless soon.

Ed, look, I keep telling you that's just an editorial.

Ed, there will be a place in this world for horses

if I have to make it myself.

I'm real down, beat, like, depressed.

Neglected, rejected, befuddled, bemuddled.

I can see you need a little bit of cheering up, Ed.

Come on. Let's just put these things away.

I'll take you for a nice ride in the park.

Fresh air will do you a world of good. What do you say, Ed?

Poem-- "Ode the Life."

Life is a feedbag without any oats.

A stable that's empty and bare.

I search for the hay in an empty corral,

but how can I find what's not there?

[chuckles]

Henry Horseworth Longfellow.

I can tell by your attitude you're in no mood for a ride,

so I'll come back when you're feeling better.

That's right. Reject me.

I am not rejecting you.

Yeah, holler, but, like, don't hit.

I'm, like, not hollering.

I just expect you to act like a normal, human horse.

[Ed groans]

I don't have to stay where I'm not wanted.

I belong with the outcasts.

Where's my hat?

Hey, thanks a lot.

Yeah.

Thanks, pal.

Hey, where did he come from?

I don't know, but he sure looks, like, way out.

What's the matter, fella? Are you lost?

I'd love to get him on canvas.

He'd make a great subject.

Aw, you couldn't get him to pose.

Man, he's crazy.

Say, man, I think that horse reads us.

Boy, you said it, daddy-o.

Put it back, Addison.

Kay, you know this is a monstrosity.

Oh, no, it isn't. It's a form of art.

So is a shrunken head, but not in my living room.

Uh, would you rather have

my mother's picture back there?

I'd rather have a shrunken head.

Hey, where did you get my old ukulele?

Oh, I found it up in the attic

when I went up to get that picture frame.

Remember the last time you played it?

The last--

Oh, golly, I don't know. Gee.

Boy, I know I was just a kid.

We were both kids.

Used to play it at the beach, remember?

Hmm.

Ah, those were the days.

Hmm. Remember how you and Freddie Dawson

used to fight about who should rub the suntan oil on my back?

Mm-hmm.

You wound up being the slipperiest girl on the beach.

You always managed to get a good grip.

Yeah.

I was kind of a wolf, wasn't I?

Right down to your big, pointed earlobes.

Oh, you used to call me Legs McCarthy.

Mmm.

Remember how we used to sit around the campfire,

our whole gang, trying to solve the world's problems?

Hmm. We couldn't even solve our own.

Your father wanted you to be a doctor,

and you wanted-- What did you want to be, doll?

Nothing.

I just wanted to lie around the beach and rub your back.

Know what you were, angel?

Just a teenage rebel.

Rebel?

I was the whole Confederate Army.

I guess every generation of kids

feels rebellious and misunderstood.

Yeah, I guess so.

Like those kids on our beach property?

You're pretty foxy, aren't you?

All right, until I sell the property,

the kids can stay.

Oh, thank you, doll.

You're just a big, fluffy, old honey bunny.

Yeah, I guess that's what I am, aren't I?

Kay, remember this?

♪ Daisy, Daisy ♪

♪ Give me your answer do ♪

♪ I'm half crazy ♪

♪ All for the love of you ♪

♪ It won't be a stylish marriage ♪

♪ I can't afford a-- ♪

[doorbell rings]

I'll get it, Legs.

Wilbur, my boy, come in. Come in, boy.

Kay and I were just recalling some of the old songs.

Would you like to sing along with us?

No, thanks, Mitch.

Rog.

Actually, I don't feel much like singing

because, see, I just got some bad news in a business deal.

Forget about business, Wilbur. It's only money.

What could be so important?

Well, the client I had for your beach property

just backed out of the deal.

I'll kill myself.

Rog, wait a minute.

Like you said, it's only money.

Only money? What do you think I live for?

Well, why did he back out, Wilbur?

It's, uh-- It's those beach kids.

You see, now that they've made the place a hangout,

he figures they may keep coming back.

I'm going down to drive those parasites off my property

lock, stock, and sunglasses.

Relax, Rog.

Um, why don't we sing some more of the old songs?

Out of my way, Legs.

Not bad, Zelma, but I don't get the message.

It lacks, uh, vagueness.

There's something missing, like, you know.

Hey, man, that horse gave the picture what it needed,

clouds.

Or depression.

- Misery. - Defeat.

Despair.

All right, young man.

Oh, hi, Mr. Addison.

Hey, here's the owner of this property.

Get a shot of him.

Never mind that.

Hello, sir. I'm with the Valley Globe.

Are you the owner of this property?

That's right.

Well, sir, you should be proud of yourself.

The kids here would be right back out in the streets

if it weren't for people like you.

How do you spell your name, sir?

Roger Addison. A-D-D-I-S-O-N.

A-D-D-I-S-O-N. Got it.

Now, Mr. Addison, have you always been interested in youth work?

Youth-- Oh, yes, indeed I have.

Yes, indeed.

The welfare of our teenagers

has always been a very deep concern of mine.

That is why I have dedicated myself

to making them feel wanted, needed, appreciated.

You're not writing.

Oh.

It is my firm conviction

that our youth needs love and understanding.

These boys and girls have been neglected much too long.

Rejected much too long.

Befuddled much too long.

You've been out in the sun much too long.

Come on, Rog. I'll take you home.

Wilbur, please, I'm talking to the press.

Can't you see?

Now, then,

to help them overcome this feeling of rejection,

I try to give them a feeling of accomplishment

by encouraging their art endeavors.

As a matter of fact, I have one of their paintings hanging over my fireplace

replacing a portrait of my beloved mother-in-law.

Hey, that pretty good.

That fruit looks almost good enough to eat.

That isn't fruit, man. That's a horse.

A horse?

Yeah, a palomino.

With big, dark glasses and a floppy straw hat?

Yeah, man. How did you guess?

Oh, well, if I were a horse,

I wouldn't dress any other way.

Which way did he go?

Over there some place.

Thank you very much.

A kook.

Ed, what are you doing out here?

I don't like you running away from home. Why did you do it?

I'm extinct, Wilbur. Useless.

Ed, remember this--

anyone who is loved is never useless.

Well, then you really love me, huh?

Well, of course.

Ed, you're like my own kid.

[laughs]

Then take me home, Daddy.

[laughs]

Let's go, Ed.

[grunts]

Oh.

Oh, boy, just look at all this sand.

Now hold still. I want to get the dirt off your coat.

Oh, forget it, Wilbur.

Let's send it to the cleaners.

You're in a pretty good mood now, aren't you?

Yep.

Glad you got over that rejection business.

Well, I'd look pretty silly

lying on a psychiatrist's couch.

Now, Ed, I want you to promise me

that you won't run away from home again.

Uh, you want to hear a little poem I just made up?

Okay.

[clears throat]

Uh, life is a feedbag overflowing with oats.

A bag that should never be shut.

And a horse that would leave a sweet guy like you

must be some kind of a nut.

[both laugh]

You like it?

Oh, it's all right.

[both laugh]

To the left and higher.

Higher.

♪ A horse is a horse, of course, of course ♪

♪ And no one can talk to a horse, of course ♪

♪ That is, of course, unless the horse ♪

♪ Is the famous Mister Ed ♪

♪ Go right to the source and ask the horse ♪

♪ He'll give you the answer ♪

♪ That you'll endorse ♪

♪ He's always on a steady course ♪

♪ Talk to Mister Ed ♪

♪ People yakkity-yak a streak ♪

♪ And waste your time of day ♪

♪ But Mister Ed will never speak ♪

♪ Unless he has something to say ♪

♪ A horse is a horse, of course, of course ♪

♪ And this one will talk till his voice is hoarse ♪

♪ You never heard of a talking horse? ♪

♪ Well, listen to this ♪

[Mister Ed] ♪ I am Mister Ed ♪

Closed-Captioned By J.R. Media Services, Inc. Burbank, CA

[Man] This has been a Filmways television presentation.