Original subtitles

What is your problem?

Spider! Spider!

What's all this screaming?

You guys waxing your mustaches again?

No, there's a big, ugly, hairy spider on the table.

A spider.

You guys are such wusses.

Don't kill it.

What do you want me to do? Read him his rights?

No, it's a living thing. Show a little compassion.

Take it outside so it can be with its family.

And eat its husband.

It is kind of cute.

I mean, look at it.

Well, it's awfully cold outside,

so you do deserve a nice warm place to sleep.

Like Dana's bed.

Hey, Cody, what are you doing?

I'm working on a '40s style mystery

for my creative writing course.

"I woke up one morning and found that my socks were horribly mismatched."

Yeah, I love the idea,

but I don't think I've got enough for a novel yet.

You know, I need something with a little suspense,

a little intrigue, some kind of mystery.

Okay, Dana, where's my diary?

How am I supposed to know?

Well, someone took it. I left it on my dresser and now it's gone.

that's a perfect idea for my forties mystery.

"The Case of the Missing Diary."

Yeah. Funny.

This is the big city.

The kind of a place where if you don't watch your back,

you'll end up wearing a sign that says "Kick Me."

The name's Spud. Sam Spud.

I'm a private detective, a shamus,

a gumshoe.

I was just about to call it a day,

when fate threw me a curve.

Come in.

Hi there.

Are you Sam Spud?

That's what it says on the door, doesn't it?

Actually, it says "Dups Mas."

I put my name on the wrong side of the door.

No wonder business has been so slow.

May I come in?

Sure. Take a load off, sister.

This dame was a knock out.

She had the kind of legs that made you wish you were a pair of no nonsense pantyhose.

And I could see why.

She was a no nonsense kind of dame.

- Toothpick? - No, thanks.

I'm trying to quit.

So, what seems to be the problem, Miss...?

Meow... Kitty Meow.

"Kitty Meow?"

What were your parents thinking?

That's my stage name.

I'm a...

Singer in a nightclub.

A songbird?

So, what can I do for you?

Someone stole my diary.

And I need you to find it.

Well, before I take the case,

I got a question I got to ask you.

- Strictly routine. - All right.

How many obtuse angles are there in a trapezoid?

-Two. -Okay, I'll take the case.

But it's going to cost you. I don't work for peanuts, you know.

I know. That's why, I brought these.

Cashews.

Kitty worked at a little joint downtown called The Club Sandwich.

They served one thing, and one thing only.

Chili.

The club was owned by a guy named Frankie "The Tuna" Sandwich.

They called him "The Tuna" because if you crossed him,

he packed you in water.

Kitty sang with a group called the Andrews Stepsisters.

How ya' doin', ladies and germs. My name is Buddy Rimshot.

You know, I tell ya',

my mother-in-law, she's so fat that when she wears yellow, people think she's a school bus.

Thank you, you're a great audience.

Now I know why they call it a depression.

God, I kill myself.

Next up, we've got a real treat for you.

Please welcome the sensational song stylings

of Miss Honey Dew.

Cigars?

Sorry about the short set.

Believe me, Honey, from here...

Your set looked great.

Thanks for noticing, Frankie.

If you want to get together a little later,

just whistle.

You know how to whistle,

don't you, Frankie?

No, that's why I have one of these.

I love a man with expensive jewelry.

Hey there, Frankie.

Sam Spud.

What brings you here?

A '38 Buick. But, that's not important right now.

It seems that one of your singers, a Miss Kitty Meow, went and got her diary stolen.

You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Frankie?

Hey, Sam,

I may be a racketeer, kidnappin', hit man,

and a low rent, dirtbag crook,

but I draw the line

at stealing a girl's diary.

Yeah, well, that remains to be seen,

but until that diary is recovered,

everyone's a suspect. You got me?

Everyone's a suspect, alright.

Hey, hold it, sister.

I got a few questions to ask you.

And wipe that "holier than thou" look off your face

or I give you one with a ruler.

Okay, boss, it's payday.

Yeah, can we have our allowance?

I mean, our take, Boss.

Sure, boys, here you go.

Five bucks? Is that all?

Hey, it's the forties. Five bucks is down payment on a house. Now scram.

Man, is he cheap.

He's so cheap, he puts an I.O.U. in his penny loafers.

God, I kill me.

He keeps that up, I'll kill him myself.

Hey there, Frankie,

keep those two on a pretty short leash?

Mind if I ask them a couple of questions about the missing diary?

Why bother, Spud?

The big one can't read and the little one still thinks girls have cooties.

Hey, Frankie.

Honey.

Yeah?

How about a little nightcap?

Why, sure.

Thanks.

Who is this?

Sam Spud, private investigator.

You mind if I ask you a couple of questions, here, Miss Dew?

Alone?

Sure, I get it.

Three's a crowd.

I always thought three's company.

Thank you.

Well now, there, Miss Dew,

do you have any idea who would want to steal Kitty Meow's diary?

I can't imagine who'd want to do such a terrible thing

to a sweet gal like Kitty.

Although, the other girls in the group do have a motive.

What's that?

A motive? That's a reason for wanting to steal the diary.

And what's that?

It's a little book you write your personal thoughts in.

Well, thank you very much, Miss Dew.

You've been very helpful.

Hey, gumshoe,

what I'm trying to tell you is, the other girls may be jealous of Kitty

and want a shot at the center microphone.

Hey, Honey,

I'm going to work out with the Detroit Tigers.

I'll be back in a couple of days. Sure.

Hey there, Coco,

mind if I ask you a couple of questions?

No. As long as you don't mind if I'm not here.

Well, well, well.

What do we got here?

A diary.

Kitty Meow's diary?

How'd that get in there? I've been framed.

Framed, I tell ya'. Framed!

Yeah, sure.

That's what the Mona Lisa said.

Where are you taking me?

You'll find out.

Right after these commercial messages.

Boy,

the neighborhood sure is changing.

Come on, Spud,

unlock these things. I'm innocent, I tell ya'. Innocent.

Yeah, we'll see about that.

I sent that diary over to the lab. We'll see whose fingerprints show up.

Guten morgen, Herr Shpud.

I have the results back from the lab.

Talk to me, Professor.

You were right.

That diary had more fingerprints on it

than Madonna.

But that's impossible.

I never touched that book.

I did not say they were yours, Meine Kleine Liebchen.

Well, if they're not your Klein Liebchen's, then whose are they?

Well, there's Kitty's, Buddy's, Cassie's, Frankie's, Fingers', Honey's

und yours.

Und mine?

That means that I'm a suspect, too.

Ha!

Maybe I should put a tail on myself.

All right.

So, Meine Herr,

how are you going to solve this caper?

Hey, I'm the detective.

I got ways of making any criminal sing.

You just round up the suspects,

I'll break out my karaoke machine.

Nein, nein, not the singing.

Alright, Spud, what's goin' on?

I've got numbers to run, people to kidnap, and...

Dance class at three.

I brought you all here because someone in this room

stole Kitty Meow's diary.

But I thought it was Coco.

That's what they wanted you to think.

But the real culprit was someone who would

benefit by upsetting Kitty and framing Coco.

Someone who had access to the dressing room.

A real big chip on his shoulder.

Someone like... Cassie.

Fishing in the wrong lake, flatfoot.

Why would I want to frame Coco?

Come on, you've made no attempt to hide how you really felt about her.

And your fingerprints were all over that diary.

Okay, I read the diary,

but I had to. I had a book report due and the library was closed.

-But I didn't steal it. -No, you didn't.

That was a practice guess.

Okay, my real guess.

Is Buddy.

Me?

Yeah, you.

I know all about your secret ambition.

You mean, to be a model and live off my looks?

No, your other secret ambition.

to be a singer in an all girl band.

You thought if you could put on a wig and a dress,

you could team up with Kitty and Cassie.

Okay, okay, I admit it, it's true.

I do want to sing in an all girl band and wear high heels.

Is that so wrong?

I would never frame Coco to get it.

I'm telling you, I'm innocent.

Yeah, you are,

and you'd look great in high heels.

But that's not the point right now.

This whole caper is starting to smell fishy.

That's why I'm thinking tuna.

Frankie?

Come on, Spud. The girls were making me money. Why would I want to break up the act?

Because you know what show business'll do to ya'.

It'll chew you up and spit you out, just like Erik Estrada.

You wouldn't want that to happen to Coco.

Because she's your daughter.

Your daughter!

Your daughter!

Yeah, I love that.

How'd you know that, Spud?

Because I took the liberty of looking at your auto insurance policy.

You named Coco as an additional driver.

Nobody in their right mind would put a teenager on their insurance policy unless

she was your daughter.

Is it true?

You're my fadda?

Yeah, pal, it's true.

You're my dawdda.

Cool, I'm a Mafia princess.

Move over, Susan Lucci.

Alright, alright, Spud, it is true.

Coco is my daughter.

But I got nothing against show business. If that's what she wants,

then I'm all for it. But I didn't steal no diary.

No, you didn't.

but we're narrowing it down now, aren't we.

Okay, who's still a suspect? Raise your hand.

Okay, now,

I know exactly how I'm going to solve this case

right now.

Eeny meenie, miny mo, catch a tiger by the toe.

If he hollers, let him go. Eeny meenie, miny mo. My mother said to--

Okay, okay.

Quit raking me over the coals.

I confess. I did it. It was me.

It was?

I thought it was the little dude by the piano.

Yeah, well, I stole the diary

and planted it in Coco's suitcase.

Then I jimmied the locks, loosened the floorboards so Coco would trip,

the suitcase would open, the diary would be there and would incriminate her.

But why would you do something so terrible,

so awful, so...

...complicated?

You're young. You don't understand.

Singing is all I know.

I mean, if you kids push me out of the way, what am I supposed to do?

Sell exercise equipment?

Start my own talk show?

Come on, sister,

the show's over. The ship has sailed,

the fat lady has sung.

Elvis has left the building.

I hated slapping the cuffs on a beautiful dame like Honey,

but what other choice did I have?

Guess it's all part of being a private eye.

The end.

What do you think, Kare-bear?

Cody, that was wonderful.

And I wear such great clothes in it.

Yeah, buddy.

Karen, I got your diary.

Your mom must have put it in my drawer by mistake.

You didn't read it, did you?

Hey, do I look like the kind of person who would read someone's diary?

I guess not.

"Bobby's arms were like two bands of steel.

"When he kissed me, my heart fluttered like a tiny hummingbird."

I'm going to kill you.

Wow.

Wow, hey, that's a killer new idea for a forties mystery.

"The Case of the Dead Stepsister."

Hey,

I feel like that old babe on "Murder, She Wrote."