Original subtitles

Rich.

Moist.

Satisfying.

Your bids?

You'll have my answer in the morning.

Walter, what are you doin'?

What kind of partner are you? Trying to sell my life's work?

Ten million dollars is a lot of dough, Walter.

No, you don't understand. They'll suppress it. They'll destroy it.

- What do you care what they do with it? - I've given 15 years to this.

I don't care about money. I care about mankind!

Sorry, old man. The formula may be in your head, but I got all the prototypes.

- You wouldn't do that to me. - Just relax. You're gonna be a millionaire.

By tomorrow, you'll be off in Bali...

sipping banana daiquiris with some native guava blossom.

Think of it, Walter. The stars. The palm trees.

The bikinis.

Walter-

Oh!

Mmm! Mmm.

Good Lord, Mildred. It's 9:00 in the morning.

Oh, Miss Holt, you've got to try these.

Mildred, where's your self-respect, your willpower?

This is shameful. This is degenerate. This is-

absolute heaven.

This is terrible. You've gotta get rid of these things.

It's time to turn over a new leaf.

What you need is a little aerobics to get you going.

It's no use. I've tried everything.

I mean, water diets, protein diet.

I even tried acupuncture.

Nothing works. Let's face it, Miss Holt...

maybe I'm just meant to be voluptuous.

Nonsense, Mildred.

Oh, here it is, Mildred.

Contacts can be such a problem.

I'm Laura Holt, Remington Steele's associate.

Bill Miles. I need to see Mr. Steele.

Okay. Ball. And follow through.

Wonderful! You have definite potential, Mr. Steele.

Firm wrist, classic form...

- excellent follow-through. - Oh, well, the Remington Steele Agency...

is noted for its, uh, follow-through, Miss Dalrymple.

You know, security is extremely important on the pro circuit.

If I retain your agency, I would expect you to be close by at all times.

Oh, day and night, I assure you, yes.

At the Remington Steele Agency, vigilance is our watchword, yes.

I warn you, Mr. Steele, I'm terribly conscious of my image.

Oh, put your fears to rest, Miss Dalrymple.

The Remington Steele Agency is the very soul of propriety.

I mean, dignity is our watchword.

Vigilance and dignity. And, uh, follow-through.

Yoo-hoo.!

Mr. Steele!

- Yes, who are you? - Mr. Steele.

Shirley Tannenbaum. Your office said I could find you here.

Well, that could be bad for one of us.

Listen, I am at the end of my rope. You have to help me out.

- I need you to find Walter. - Walter?

Walter Munzinger, my brother-in-law.

I haven't heard from him in three days.

Tomorrow's my daughter's wedding. Walter and Tiffany are like that.

What am I gonna tell her? What am I gonna tell the doctor?

- The doctor? - She's marrying a doctor.

- Ah. - Here, that's him.

That's Walter.

How long has your brother, Walter, been missing?

Three days. My sister, Mary, is so upset.

She's in the hospital, and the doctors are really worried.

Well, listen, Mrs. Tannenbaum...

the agency really isn't equipped to handle a full-scale manhunt, you know.

Oh. Silly of me. So you need money to cover expenses, right?

Will that do?

Ten thousand dollars?

Ten thousand dollars?

Well, he's the only brother I have, Miss Holt.

How can you handle both cases at once?

Oh, don't worry, Miss Dalrymple. I'll simply assign...

my trusted associate to the Munzinger matter.

Then I'll be able to devote all my energies to, uh, servicing you.

Ah, good morning, Mildred.

Morning, Mr. Steele.

Ah, Miss Holt. I need you to handle a pressing matter.

I'm afraid I have a pressing matter of my own, Mr. Steele.

I believe my matter is more pressing.

I've been retained to locate a missing relative.

- So have I. - You have?

Have a seat, will you, Miss Dalrymple.

Ah, Mildred, some coffee for Miss Dalrymple.

My relative comes with a $10,000 retainer.

So does mine.

- It does? - And I have a picture.

You show me yours, and I'll show you mine.

Walter Munzinger?

The man must come from a very doting family.

If any more of Walter's relations show up, we'll have to open a branch office.

- Remington Steele? - Ah, yes.

- Maynard Stockman, Vector Foundation. - Oh, good.

I need you to find someone for me.

A man named Walter Munzinger.

Don't you find it a bit odd that three different people...

hired the Remington Steele Agency to find Walter Munzinger?

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. Frankly, yes.

And the sooner we wrap up this missing Munzinger...

the sooner I can go over Miss Dalrymple's itinerary.

Should be an exciting trip.

Need I remind you, Miss Dalrymple's a client.

Oh, well, she's more than that, Laura. She's the ideal client.

- How so? - She wants to mix business with pleasure.

Uh-oh.

Never a good sign when the door is ajar.

- Oh, good heavens! - Mm.

Looks like someone wants Walter for more than Tiffany Tannenbaum's wedding, eh?

- Look at this. - What?

Third place at the Food Expo awarded to Walter Munzinger and MichaelJ. Spencer.

Hmm. Apparently Walter was into food research.

Apparently MichaelJ. Spencer is his partner.

Yeah.

Well, well, well, well, well. Have a look at this.

Our phone number and address.

- Walter must have intended to contact us. - Mm.

Gesundheit.

Clay!

Laura Holt. You look terrific.

From what I can see, you don't look so bad yourself.

God, I haven't seen you...

since the good old days back at Havenhurst.

- Have you lost weight? - Excuse me.

- Who is that man? - Clay Platt.

- We used to work together. - I see.

You made an exception in his case, did you...

about, uh, mixing business with pleasure?

We put in a few late nights. A lot of paperwork.

- He seems to be in the mood to burn some more midnight oil.

- Be quiet. - We're both mature, consenting adults...

and we can't be expected to suppress our natural instincts and urges.

Laura, that mature, consenting adult...

is standing in a closet in an apartment that looks like it's been leveled by a tornado.

Don't you think we should ask him some pertinent questions, hmm?

- You're absolutely right. - Good.

- Clay, what are you doing in that closet? - I'm on a case.

- So are we. - Well, then neither of us can betray a client's confidence.

Listen, mate, the man who lives here is missing.

Well, do you know where he is?

- No. - Neither do I.

We'll do lunch sometime.

Nice backhand.

Toes and knees and toes and knees.

Toes and knees. Cookies, please.

I'm not hungry. I'm not hungry.

I hate cookies.

I love celery. I'm not hungry.

Miss Krebs, I've rearranged my schedule.

Is there any word from Mr. Steele?

Miss Dalrymple, I am so glad to see you!

- I have something for you. - Oh, no, I shouldn't.

- Oh, no, take it. Please, take it. - Really?

Well, if you insist.

- Good Lord! - Must be something in the air.

Miss Dalrymple!

Miss Dalrymple!

Good Lord!

Miss Dalrymple, you're safe!

Miss Dalrymple, you're okay- Oh!

- Oh, yes, fine. - Boss, I only took an hour for lunch!

First Walter's apartment. Now we're on the hit list.

Remington Steele?

- Yes. - I'm-

- Walter Munzinger. - Oh!

Oh, Walter. Oh, yes. Come in, please. Come in. Yes.

Don't give up!

The shape of the world is in your hands!

Good Lord!

- Oh, is he still out there? - Oh-

Nah, the meat wagon took him away.

Mildred, please, a little bit of decorum, hmm?

- Feeling better, are you, Miss Dalrymple? - Mm-

- I'm sorry about your rug. - Oh, nonsense!

We were thinking of getting a new one anyway. Ah, Mildred...

- some hot tea for Miss Dalrymple. - How- Uh-

How did he... die?

Uh, heart attack. Heart attack, no doubt. Yes, of course.

Always so sudden. I mean, one minute you're here, the next-

Bullet wound.

From the coroner's preliminary report...

Walter was shot at close range.

I think it's time we chat with our clients.

No, wait. Wh-What about me?

I mean, there's all those reporters down there.

- I don't want to be involved in this kind of publicity. - Once I'm through with this...

we'll discuss your tour in a quiet, dignified manner.

I'll be back in about an hour.

Maybe 45 minutes.

I'll never forget the 12 years I spent with the space program.

Walking on the moon was about the most exciting moment of my life.

Being an astronaut meant you had to have something special.

Well, uh, Booster Bars have something special too.

You see, Boost-

Oh, hi. How ya doin'?

I thought you looked familiar.

Yeah, well, now you know.

The man who flew to the moon, Ph. D. in astrophysics...

hawks Booster Bars.

Twenty thousand units a week.

- Sounds impressive. - Yeah, well, the company wants 50.

They're thinking of hiring MichaelJackson.

It's a different world down here, isn't it?

Yes. A man has dreams.

You walk on the moon, you're a hero.

Ticker tape parades, talk shows.

Six months later, nobody knows you.

Well, I'm too old to go to the moon again.

How's Mary?

- Who? - Your sister.

The one in the hospital.

Oh, right. Yeah, she's hanging on.

Have you found Walter yet?

- He made a brief appearance in our office. - When you see him...

tell him I've put together a syndicate of backers.

- I think I can come up with three million. - Three million?

That's as high as I'm authorized to go.

- Now, I want Walter's answer. - I'll do my best to wring it out of him.

Do that.

- Uh, could you tell me- - Crystal, you forgot to turn off the oven.!

- Mr. Steele. - Oh, Mrs. Tannenbaum.

You never told me you were Lila Delight, queen of sensual confection.

- You're very thorough. - Ah.

- I take it you found Walter. - Actually, he found us.

- Oh? - Mm-hmm.

- Is he ready to do business? - Business?

Oh, that might be a bit difficult, Mrs. Tannenbaum.

Don't toy with me, Steele. I'm a desperate woman!

Now, you tell Munzinger that I'm offering a million five.

- I beg your pardon? - Look, Steele...

my business is being eaten alive by cottage cheese and club soda.

People have forgotten how to live.

They're devastated by, uh-

by stretch marks and cellulite.

Thin hips and thighs. That's all they care about.

Munzinger should jump at a million five.

I'm not sure he'll jump at anything, Mrs. Tannenbaum.

You drive a hard bargain, Steele.

All right, all right.

An even two mil, but that's as high as I'll go.

Well- I'll, uh-

I'll confer with Mr. Munzinger, but I'm not sure what he's gonna have to say on the subject.

Okay, Mrs. Tannenbaum?

If we just knew what we were getting back to them about.

Whatever it is, Lila Delight and Astronaut Willy...

would cash in their life savings for it.

Well, it's gonna be a bit difficult getting information out of Walter at this point.

Perhaps his partner, Mr. Spencer, might be of some help.

What about a little sting on the wing, Laura?

I'll do the driving, thank you.

- Oh, my Lord! - Oh, boy.

Someone's determined to make us work for our money.

A man's home is ransacked, his laboratory is ransacked...

and our office is ransacked.

It would help if we knew what everyone is looking for.

Uh, yes, indeed.

- Spring is in the air! - I beg your pardon?

Mm. Mm.

Oh, yes! Yes, you're absolutely right.

Maybe we should take the rest of the day off.

Oh, yes, perhaps a stroll in the park. Maybe a...

round of golf, uh-

- Maybe take in a movie! - Oh, yes, a movie would be a good idea.

What would you like to see?

I'll leave it to you, Mr. Steele.

I wanna see Bambi.

- Well, you certainly gave them an earful. - Yes.

Poor Walter. Everything he said was broadcast in stereo.

Someone, or a lot of someones, knew he meant to contact us.

- But why us? - I don't know. Perhaps we should check the closets.

- Maybe one of your old flames is in there. - Don't be ridiculous.

- Ooh! - Oh, my God.

Who is he?

I don't know. He doesn't look familiar.

Let me see.

Ah. Aha. Say hello to Walter's partner...

MichaelJ. Spencer.

What's happened? Who are you?

Uh, Food and Drug Administration.

- Do you work here, Miss, uh- - Gloria Blyer.

No. I'm looking for Walter. I'm his fianc�e.

Ah. Uh-

Gloria, uh, I think we have some bad news for you.

- Oh! - No, no. Not again.

Our ransacker is thorough to the point of obsession.

Twenty minutes, boss!

I swear. I just went to the post office!

Ah! Miss Dalrymple! Miss Dalrymple?

I hear you.

Ow. Ooh. Ow.

Oh, Miss Dalrymple, there you are. What happened?

Well, I heard a noise, and I thought it was you!

And I went out to look, and somebody punched me in my mouth.

- Oh! - She must've scared them off.

Oh, I don't understand any of this.

Oh, it's all right. You're safe now. Mildred, some ice for Miss Dalrymple.

But if they already ransacked your office, why do it again?

Unless it was someone different this time.

- Well, what is it they want? - Whatever it is, we're supposed to have it.

Yes, but there was nothing on Walter when he, uh, you know-

That's true. Unless... Walter sent us something when-

- Here's the ice. - Oh, thank you, Mildred.

- Thank you, indeed. - This just came.

- Oh, my God! - There you go, Miss Dalrymple.

There. It's only a temporary swelling.

- A little lip gloss, and no one'll be any wiser. - Shhh!

- Laura, I'm trying to comfort our client. - Do you hear a ticking?

- Ticking? - It sounds like a bomb!

- Bomb? - Bomb!

- Oh! Throw it out the window! - Oh!

The windows don't open!

Well, don't just stand there. We'll all be blown to smithereens! Do something!

- Move, move. - Look out!

Come on. Come on!

- Get out! - Out of the way.

- This isn't my floor! - Get out!

- What are you doing? - It is now!

- Go on! Get out! Move! - You crazy or something?

We may have just lost our lease, Laura.

Oh. Oh, yes. Oh-

It looks better already.

I must confess, Mr. Steele, I'm having second thoughts about hiring your agency.

Oh, no, no, nonsense, Miss Dalrymple. Nonsense.

Do you realize that since I've met you, I've had a man die at my feet...

I've been punched in the mouth, and I've almost been blown sky-high...

- all in one day! - I know how annoying these minor inconveniences can be...

but from now on, it's gonna be smooth sailing, believe me.

Well, Mildred?

Ah, Miss Holt, you look, uh, smashing.

- I got you that table at La Boheme. - Great.

- La Boheme? - I'm having lunch with Clay Platt.

- Are you sure you can handle it alone? - I'll do just fine.

Remember I only give my employees an hour's lunch.

Remington Steele.

Uh, hold on just a second.

It's a Gloria Blyer. Said it's a matter of life and death.

- Don't things ever slow down around here? - Ah-Whew.

Yes, Steele here. Yes.

Uh, well, where are you?

Well- Uh, yeah, okay. Okay. Yeah.

I'll be right over. Okay.

Sometimes I wish I weren't so damn dedicated.

- It's just a minor matter that needs my attention. - I'm not sure I can survive it.

Ah, well, just remember the watchwords-vigilance and dignity.

Yeah, and follow-through.

The Remington Steele Agency specializes in, uh...

follow-through.

You're very persuasive.

I'll be back in about 45 minutes.

Maybe half an hour.

Clay.

I had no idea when I asked you to lunch...

that I'd get this lucky this fast.

Sometimes you just have to seize the moment.

All right.

I can't believe a package like you...

hasn't been wrapped up and tied into a great big bow.

Unless, of course, you and your boss have something going on the side.

Strictly business.

That's just what I've been waiting to hear.

- A question, Clay. - You have my undivided attention.

What were you doing at Walter Munzinger's apartment?

Oh, now, I could ask you the same thing.

In that case, I have a proposition for you.

This may be the best lunch I've ever had.

You have information I want. I have information you want.

I propose a trade- truth for truth.

- Any subject? - I'm an open book.

- Ask away. - Who hired you to go through Munzinger's apartment?

- Varicorp. - The conglomerate?

My turn. Who are you working for?

Actually, we have three clients.

Steele must be as good as I hear.

Gloria?

Gloria, open the door. It's Steele.

Gloria?

- Oh! Oh, Mr. Steele. Thank you for coming. - Okay, okay, okay.

Calm down. Listen, you said on the phone someone threatened to kill you.

- Yeah, some pudgy guy. - What about a cocky fellow about 30?

Yeah, he was with pudgy.

They told me that if I didn't hand over the package...

they were gonna give me a free trip to visit Walter.

Okay, here you go. What package?

Yes, this-this postal receipt came in the morning mail.

"To the Remington Steele Agency.

- From Walter Munzinger"? - Did anything come to your office today?

Nothing you'd be interested in getting.

- Did you tell anyone you had this? - No.

That was precisely the right thing to do.

I told them you had it.

That wasn't the best alternative. Come on. Come on.

My turn. How much did you earn at Havenhurst?

Twenty-four.

What's so funny?

I made 36.

And a company car.

My turn. What is it everyone is looking for?

Now, come on, Clay. We had a deal. What is it?

Promise you won't tell anybody I told you?

I promise.

- Cookies. - What?

My turn.

Why don't we go to my place?

I'm beginning to feel a little sleepy.

Did you really say "cookies"?

- I could break out the baby oil. - Worth two lives?

And millions of dollars?

Well, when Walter bit the big one...

so did the formula.

Only the prototypes are left.

You know, I-I'm really starting to feel a little sleepy.

Prototypes? Of cookies?

Rich, moist, delicious.

And no calories.

Did you say "no calories"?

Not one teensy-weensy little calorie.

La Boheme? I thought we were going to your office...

to look for Walter's package.

Just as soon as we rescue Miss Holt from the clutches of a closet king.

Let go of me, you big ox.! What do you think you're-

Oh. Seems she's fallen into other clutches.

Good afternoon. Varicorp.

Hold the line, please.

Good afternoon, Miss Holt.

Sorry we had to meet under such unpleasant circumstances.

Does the Vector Foundation usually snatch people...

off the street, Mr. Stockman...

or is that Varicorp's style?

Miss Holt, you are a very smart cookie.

Clay Platt, however, is not.

So I had to step in once again.

Now, let me get this straight.

Walter Munzinger creates the most delicious chocolate chip cookie in existence...

on top of which, it has absolutely no calories...

and you're willing to pay $10 million to destroy it?

I'd say that was a fair assessment of our position, yes.

So you bombed our office.

A distasteful procedure...

but given the severity of the situation...

it was one we had to undertake.

What severity?

You're sitting on something the whole world is crying for!

Miss Holt, Varicorp produces 52 varieties of cookies.

We manufacture Fudgie Bears in Wisconsin...

Gooey Chewies in Nebraska and Yummy Tummy Treats in Kansas.

Our factories support entire towns.

Do you have any idea what would happen if Munzinger's cookie...

were allowed to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world?

Nobody would buy ours!

Our factories would close.

Gas stations, grocery stores...

dry cleaners, libraries, schools would close.

There'd be no tax revenue. Cities would collapse.

There'd be unemployment lines.

Welfare rolls. Soup kitchens.

Honest men and women, thrown out of work...

through no fault of their own...

without hope, without- without purpose...

turning to- to crime and to drugs.

Riots in the streets, Miss Holt!

Well, I for one am not about to let that happen.

Buenos d�as, ma'am. Buenos d�as.

No one called for you.

No! No.

Stop it! You're making a mess! Stop it right now!

Hey!

Stop doing this to my desk! Give that back to me!

Oh!

Stop him! You can't go in there! You can't go in there!

What do you want?

Come on, Laura. Let's go. This way.

Hold it. Stop. What do you think you're doing?

After them, you oxen!

Cookies?

You put my neck on the line to satisfy your sweet tooth?

- You didn't taste one. - I don't care!

Big men with bombs are trying to pulverize us!

No wonder Shirley and Bill are ready to kill for them.

- Those cookies are worth $10 million! - Ten million dollars?

Yes.

Go!

Now who?

Mildred? Mildred!

Oh! Next time, I'm eating in.

Mildred, remember that red tin of chocolate chip cookies?

How could I forget? They were so moist and delicious.

- Did you eat them? - Oh, you'd be so proud of me, Miss Holt.

I turned over a new leaf. I gave those shameful cookies away.

How can you do that? What's the matter with you?

Laura, get a grip on yourself, please.!

- What have I done? - Now, Mildred, please, listen.

Two people have already been brutally murdered for those cookies.

Whoever has them now is marked for death. Who did you give them to?

- Miss Dalrymple. - Miss Dalrymple!

Mildred! You silly, silly woman!

Excuse me. Ooh.

Miss Dalrymple.! Miss Dalrymple.

Oh, there you are. You're safe at last, my dear!

Well, you're alive!

Well, why shouldn't I be?

- It's not another bomb, is it? - Miss Dalrymple...

where are the cookies that Mildred gave you?

- They're very popular. - What do you mean?

Well, two men just came and offered me a hundred dollars for them.

You didn't give them the cookies, did you?

No, I told them my coach had them. Let him make a hundred.

- Where is he? - In the locker room.

Locker room.

Grab him!

Come here, sunshine! Swing around there!

- You all right? - Yeah.

I was just gonna take a shower when those bozos started banging me around.

The cookies that Miss Dalrymple gave you-

Yeah, that's what they wanted. A stupid tin of cookies.

- Where is that stupid tin of cookies? - I gave it to Tyrone.

- Who's Tyrone? - My son.

- Where is he? - He's at school. Why?

Oh! Quick. Come on. Let's go.

Come on!

Come on!

Ah, my hand. Ow! Somebody's sitting on my hand!

- Someone's sitting on Miss Dalrymple's hand. - I'm sure it's not me.

Her wrist is my livelihood. Whoever it is, get up!

It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.

Profound observation, Mr. Steele.

Spencer Tracy, Sid Caesar. United Artists, 1963.

A group of people jump into their cars and begin a mad chase after something very valuable.

- You're not suggesting- - Uh-huh.

One car back. The white Cadillac.

You might check out the red convertible as well.

Who are all these people?

Mm. It seems our friends from Varicorp haven't forgotten us either.

How do you suppose they all caught on so fast?

Remember the laboratory?

Oh, it's a safe bet they bugged our office as well.

Uh-huh. So you wanna listen in, eh?

Well, stay away from that ruddy tin of cookies!

One more person gets hurt, and I'm gonna come after you, you got it?

They're chasing us for a tin of cookies?

All right, you all know what Tyrone looks like, so let's fan out!

Yeah. And don't come back empty-handed.

Ah, you stay with me.

How do you run in those heels?

- How do you serve an ace? - I trained for it.

Same here.

- Oh, no! - Oh! What? Oh!

Uh- Uh-oh. Unfortunately we're not alone.

Varicorp is on our tail.

- Uh, I'll distract our friend. - Where shall we regroup?

Uh, some place inconspicuous. Uh, the boys' locker room.

Come on! Let's go.

Give me that tin!

- Hey, let go, lady! Let go! - Wait, wait.

Food and Drug Administration. This cookie's condemned!

What's your problem, lady?

You know, in a bizarre way, this is kinda fun.

Ah, Miss Dalrymple, you're a woman after my own heart. Quick. In here.

- Oh, nice smash! - Oh. Come on.

- Wait. I can't go in there. - What?

Oh, strictly a duty call, Miss Dalrymple. Come on.

Laura? Laura? Laura?

Laura, is this really necessary?

Come on. Come on.

We did it. We did it!

We did it! We did it!

What did we do? Uh-oh.

Uh-oh.

First closets, now commodes. Your style is appalling.

Good afternoon.

Oh!

I think the coast is clear, Mildred.

No!

You learn to look twice in this racket.

Don't forget, danger is my life. Come on.

- Oh! - Shhh.

- They've got Sandy. - Oh!

What are we gonna do if they start shooting?

Oh, you amateurs wanna know everything.

You know, Mr. Steele, each of our suspects...

had a motive for murdering Walter Munzinger.

But why would any of them kill Mike Spencer?

- Great. Now you don't have any suspects. - Perhaps one.

Grab him, boss!

Give me those cookies!

Give me those cookies!

I got it! Chief, I got-

- I had it! - They'll be no breadlines in this country!

Gloria! Grab him!

Oh! Oh! Ooh!

Right where I want you, Holt.

Grab it, Laura.! Grab it.!

Stay! Stay right there!

Out of the way. Let me.

Back where you belong!

Amazing, isn't it, Laura?

The secret to Walter's recipe is contained in this single cookie.

- May I have the postal receipt, Mr. Steele? - Yes. You may.

I would think this receipt makes you the owner, Gloria.

I can't believe it.

We can't either. Because according to the date...

Walter mailed it after he died.

You knew he sent us the cookies. All you needed...

- was a phony receipt to claim them. - What are you getting at?

If the deal for Varicorp had gone through...

you would have married a very wealthy man.

You must have got a bit of a shock when Walter decided to sell out, eh?

And with Spencer still alive, you had no claim on Walter's creation...

so he had to be disposed of as well.

I did so hope you'd come through unscathed.

Don't worry, Mr. Steele. The only thing scathed is my dignity.

- Oh, of course. - Great work, hon!

Now, where's that cookie that's gonna change the shape of the world?

Oh!

I ask myself, I mean, what was on Walter's mind...

to turn down $10 million, eh?

- Walter was an idealist, an ivory-tower thinker. - Oh.

The only way to duplicate his formula was to analyze those cookies.

There probably won't be another mind like his for centuries.

Oh, come, Laura. It's not the end of the world.

It's easy for you to say, you and your enviable metabolism.

See? Look at Miss Krebs.

- I mean, she's taking it like a trouper. - Oh-

I met a guy last night at Weight Watchers...

and there's gonna be a hot time in the old town tonight.

- Oh. - Ooh, Miss Dalrymple's here to see you.

Ah! Send her in, Mildred. Send her in.

Ah, Miss Dalrymple.

Yes, come in. Ah, Miss Dalrymple.

It's my distinct pleasure to be undividedly yours.

Clay, what a pleasant surprise.

I hope there are no hard feelings.

All in the line of duty, Laura.

In that case, I'm free for lunch.

Sorry, this isn't a social call.

Uh, that's what I came to tell you.

I've decided to go with a more conservative agency.

One that better understands my concern for safety and decorum.

Shall we?

- Well, Laura, it looks like just you and me again, eh? - Yep.

Just two mature, consenting adults...

alone at last.

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0