Original subtitles

Brigham Cowboy, daredevil bronco busters trying to tame

the orneriest critters of the great Texas range.

Those sweet little animals, ornery.

Touch. Those rich ranchers are much ornerier.

But I know how to tame them.

Really, lady? How?

Marry them.

Mike, come here. What's up, Greta?

His picture's in the paper. Whose picture? That handsome,

hunk of man who checked into Penthouse A last night.

It says he's a wealthy sportsman from California. Mmm.

Mr. Gates plans to visit some friends, take in the shows, and see the sights. Oh,

he doesn't have to see the sights. He can buy them and have them shipped home.

I wonder if he's married.

He can't be. He's smiling.

Mike, I've got an idea how we can get to meet him. Well, give.

I'll be your wrong number.

Wrong number? Sure. I call his penthouse, pretend our lines got crossed,

and by the time we've both had our laughs over it, he will have asked me to lunch,

and you can be my bridesmaid.

Well, that was a whirlwind romance.

Okay, honey, but don't sound too anxious. Don't worry, I'll be subtle and syrupy.

Oh, hello, get me Penthouse A, please.

When I start pouring on that old syrup, Mr.

Gates will be eating right out of my hand.

Hello, Irving.

Oh, this is not Irving?

Oh, I'm sorry. This must be a wrong number.

I... He hung up.

Well, what happened to the old syrup?

He didn't even give me a chance to open the bottle.

Well, the magazine just came out with my cover picture on it, but I hate it.

I look like I weigh 300 pounds. Let me see it.

Loco, you really should wear your glasses when you go out.

This is a physical culture magazine, and that is Mr. America.

It is?

Hmm.

Come in.

Hi, girls. I just picked up some copies of your

cover picture, loco. Quick, let me see it.

Oh, do I look all right?

Are you kidding? In that bathing suit?

Do you think my expression is all right?

Honey, no 100% American will really care. How about autographing this one for me?

Gosh, I feel like a celebrity. What do you want me to write, Jesse?

Oh, something sweet and sentimental, like your measurements.

You know, I ought to be Loco's manager the

way I'm making her known around this place.

Why? What are you doing?

Well, take this cover picture.

I'm making sure that everybody in this building sees a copy.

I dropped one off at Penthouse A. Penthouse A?

Mr. Gates? You know him?

We're old buddies. I just spent two seconds on the phone with him.

Did he notice Loco's picture?

Oh, yes.

But he didn't say anything.

He just stood there whistling.

Well, you know what they say. Man cannot live on bread alone.

Once in a while, he's got to have cheesecake.

Does he know Loco lives in the building?

Oh, sure. I told him. I also let him know she doesn't date just anybody.

Smart boy. There's nothing a man likes better than a good chase. Oh, I hope not.

I'm getting a little tired of running.

Tell us about him, Jesse. What's he like? How does he spend his time?

Betting.

Betting?

On anything and everything with his pal.

They even bet on how many times I blink my eyes a minute.

Did Mr. Gates win? No, he blew it. I think it cost him about 50 bucks a blink.

I'll see you, girls. And thanks for the autograph, local.

Oh, forget it. We're all Americans.

That's him.

Hmm.

Not only handsome, but he looks like such a nice, even-tempered guy.

Monkey skull hyena. You were born with a horseshoe in your mouth.

That's the ninth straight bet you won from me.

Tom, my boy, you're more than just a friend to me.

You're my hedge against inflation. Every fly was

just about to light on the table. Oh, sure.

But I bribed him to light on the ceiling first.

I promised to give him half of this thousand. Very comical. Well,

if it will make you feel any better,

I'm gonna contribute some of my winnings to the

support and upkeep of a great national park.

What national park?

Hialeah.

Oh, you really got me in stitches. Well, since you can't win a bet,

I'll give you a chance to eat yourself even. I'll take you to lunch.

I would have to be on a diet. Come on, put your tie on. Man.

I'd like to take her to lunch, too.

Her name's Jones. Lives right in the building.

You know, that fatal fascination you hold for dames, you probably could.

Why don't you call her?

I'll bet you think I'd fall on my face. Me?

But you'd make a little bed I wouldn't connect,

wouldn't you? A thousand. Make it five? Five.

Open up that cage, mother. Here comes your pigeon again.

Miss Jones, please.

This is she. Who?

I don't know any Mr. Vernon.

Oh, my picture. Well, I'm glad you liked it. Huh?

Oh, well, thank you, but I'm not in the habit of going out with strange men.

Hello?

Hello!

Don't tell me I finally won a bet. Well, I want you to win once in a while,

just to keep the franchise. It's my ego that's hurt.

She must be an awful hard-to-get gal.

Face it, Dad, you're really a dud with a doll. Think you could do better?

Maybe not for lunch, but dinner would be a cinch.

I've got five Gs, says you're bellowing through your bonnet. Five.

Okay, lover, start pouring on the charm.

Not yet. We've had enough crudeness for one day.

This is gonna be done with finesse.

Uh, may I have the florist, please?

Just what I needed. Be a life better. Twelve.

Lucky.

I'll get it.

Hi, local.

Hi, girls.

Hello, Jeff.

Well, kid, hang on to your hat.

These are for you from Mr. Gates.

Geronimo? Oh, honey, it looks like you really hit a gusher.

Oh, you're a dreamboat. Just call me Cupid.

But if you should marry this moneybags, I'm gonna ask you to do me a big favor.

What?

Adopt me.

Scram, scavenger. See you later. Right.

Oh, isn't this cute? Listen.

To Miss Jones, in sincere admiration, Tom Gates, uh...

Panting. Panting? That sounds promising. That's not panting, loco.

It's penthouse A. Oh, I liked it better the first way.

Anyway, he likes me. Isn't that exciting? Yes, honey, but don't get too anxious.

Let him do a little chasing.

Greta's right. Now, he'll probably call and ask you

out for a date. Turn him down. Well, I'll try.

Hello, I'm Tom Gates. My friend and I were just passing,

and I was wondering if Miss Jones received my flowers.

Oh, yes, come in. I'm Mike McCall. Oh, my roommate's Greta Hansen.

And Loco Jones.

I'm Tom Gates, my friend Dave Vernon.

How do you do?

How do you do? How do you do?

Thank you for the flowers.

Oh, that's all right.

Well, Miss Jones, you're even lovelier than your photographs.

Oh, thank you.

You know, if I were a little younger, I'd start a Loco Jones fan club.

How nice. And I'd join it, too.

Oh, I mean... Miss Jones,

I wonder if I may have the pleasure of your company at dinner tonight?

Oh, I'd be happy to.

How's 7.30?

My favorite time.

Well, until then.

Bye, girls.

Goodbye.

Goodbye. Hey, local, look, aren't they just beautiful flowers?

They're the prettiest flowers I ever saw. Boy, did you play hard to get.

The minute he mentioned dinner, you did everything

but sing, oh, promise me. So nice.

Oh, what time is it?

It's only four o'clock. Already? Oh, my, I have to start getting dressed.

Well, it looks like our little loco has flipped. Completely. What do you think?

I don't know.

It does seem to go for Loco.

But the way he and that Vernon kept looking at each other,

I just can't put my finger on it.

But if this is some sort of a gag at Loco's expense,

I won't have to put my finger on it.

I'll let him have my whole fist. Gates.

How did you know?

The subject depresses me too.

What is it about that guy? He seems to be crazy about her, and yet...

Maybe it's the way he throws his money around.

Too easy come and easy go.

And it's the go part that worries me when I think of Loco married to him.

He'll be up there one day, and on his upper is the next.

Don't let Loco hear you say that.

Don't worry. Lucky is taking her beauty nap.

Lucky. That's some name he gave her.

Don't knock it. She earned it.

Tom says he hasn't lost a bet since he began taking her out.

Come in.

Yeah, it's positively weird, especially that superstitious bit Tom pulls. You know,

rubbing locals' head before every bet.

If he keeps it up, we'll soon have a bald roommate.

All right, girls, I brought your dresses. You got anything else you want cleaned?

Well, you better check later. Loco might have some things. Not Loco.

Do you mind if I say that I think she's too nice for that Gates guy?

We don't mind a bit. Why?

Well, I heard him talking to his buddy this morning.

And it seems he took Loco out to dinner that

first night just to win a five grand bet.

That's bad enough, but what burns me is that he sold

Loco a bill of goods that he really goes for.

Why, as far as Gates is concerned, Loco's just a good luck charm.

And she better stay lucky, that's all. I saw him when he was on a losing streak,

and, oh, man, he's not exactly what you call a good sport.

Well, I got to get down to Gates' place now. They got a doctor waiting for me.

What's the matter with you, Jesse?

Oh, I feel fine. They're just betting $2,000 on my blood pressure.

Boy, that's pretty low. Jesse's blood pressure? No, Gates.

Well, you can't blame Loco for being enchanted with the guy.

But it's up to us to disenchant her fast.

Easy. Now, if we start knocking gates, she'll rebound right into his arms.

You know Loco.

Sure, but we'll do it subtly with finesse.

You mean the stiletto instead of the blunt instrument?

Before we're through slamming gates.

I'll answer it.

I think it's Tom. Hello?

Oh, hello, Tom. Oh, dinner? I'd love it.

Oh, sure, they'd love to come, too. Oh, 7.30 will be just fine.

Bye, Tom.

That was Tom. He wants all of us to come to dinner with him tonight.

Gee, isn't he wonderful?

What a guy.

You know, I got such a kick out of it when I found out he invited

you out to dinner that first night just to win a bet. Yeah.

How could you help but love a guy like that?

The minute you showed up at the table, he collected $5,000 from Vernon. He did?

Oh, I'm so happy that I bring him good luck.

Look how late it's getting.

You better start dressing.

Well, so much for the stilettos. Roll out the cannons.

This target isn't going to be easy to hit.

Mike, we've got to open her eyes.

What good will that do? Even when they're open, she can't see.

Gates keeps winning, but... Hey,

remember what Jesse said about Gates' temper when he loses?

I'm reading you, Mike, but how are we going to work it? I don't know yet.

But we are going to that dinner tonight.

Sometime between the appetizer and the entree,

we'll figure out some way to put Gates in the soup.

Hey, we better start getting dressed. It's late. Oh.

15, 17, 18, 19, 20 lumps of sugar. You win, Tom.

That'll cost exactly 1,000 bucks, Dave. Pay me.

What stupid luck.

I ought to demand a recount.

You did it again, Lucky.

Baby, this is the loveliest, luckiest collection of blonde hair there is going.

Please, let's forget about bedding for a while. My head's beginning to hurt.

Gotta give the sucker a chance to lose more. Name your poison, Buster.

Blondes seem to be lucky this year.

I bet you 5G's next dame through that doorway is a blonde.

Now, isn't he cute? Why, these days, every dame in Rant Matilda's a blonde.

Take it, Tautz. I have a feeling it's going to be a brunette.

You know, ordinarily, I shoot, Tautz.

But you've been lucky for me. You're on. In fact, I'll up you five.

Make it 15.

Oh, I don't think you ought to bet that much.

Oh, now, Loco, if the boys want to play, let them play. Oh!

I don't know what's the matter with me.

Every time I hear someone make a $15,000 bet, I get butterfingers.

We better go to the powder room, Mike. I'll give you a hand.

Well, I'll go with you. No, no.

Somebody has to stay and apply the smelling salts to the loser.

Yeah.

All right, if you lose, I'll give you smelling salts. And if Tom loses, I'll...

Better give them to me.

That was quick thinking, spilling that glass of water, almost a conditioned reflex.

I'm soaked down to my conditioned reflexes, too, but it was worth it.

There ain't no brunette going through this doorway.

This is one bet Gates has got to lose, the rat.

Ah, good evening. Table for two? Yes. This way, please.

Congratulations, you've just won our big door prize. Honest?

Did you hear that, Herbie? Well, how come? Well, you're our millionth couple,

that's how come. Aren't you the lucky ones, though?

Now, if you'll just wait in here,

we'll send the manager right in for the official presentation.

Do you mind telling us what the door prize is?

A door. I mean, a six-month tour of the Orient, all expenses paid,

and a lifetime supply of lychee nuts.

That's funny.

I could have sworn that couple was right behind

me, but when I got to the table, they were gone.

Well, they veered off that-a-way.

You can still head them off at the bandstand.

They told me there'd be nights like this.

Yes, ma'am, right this way. Your table's waiting. Wait a minute. Oh,

where are the new hostesses?

Sort of helping out the maitre d'. Yeah, well,

I'm not going in until a fathead husband of mine gets here.

Well, why don't you wait at a table?

When the fathead does get here, why wouldn't... Yeah, well, I'm not going in alone.

Too cheap to let the doorman park the car. No,

he has to cruise around till he finds a free parking space.

Oh, so you finally made it.

Where did you park it, the Yankee Stadium?

Oh, honey, you know what the traffic's like around here. It's murder.

And how? Your husband deserves a medal for getting back at all.

Anyway, I found a place a couple of blocks from here.

Table for two, please.

I'm surprised you brought me here in the first place. They charge, you know.

Now, look, if you come right down to it, I'd just as soon have gone to the automat.

Yeah, well, that does it, Sporty. I'm taking myself home.

No, no, no, look, Eloise, Eloise.

Are you sure? Can't you take a joke? Yeah, look at me. I can't stop laughing.

Eloise!

Eloise!

¶¶ This is definitely, but definitely not my night.

One minute, they were right behind me, but the next minute... They're gone.

We know.

Gone to table 24, that is.

They mentioned they had friends there.

We'll see about that.

Trying to cut out the middleman, eh?

Sorry, standing room only. There'll be a three-hour wait.

But I made reservations with Jules.

With Jules?

Oh, I'm sorry, but Jules isn't with us anymore. We had to let him go.

You know...

You mean we don't get a table?

Unless you'd care to take potluck in the kitchen,

and there's just a short wait for that. Is this a gag?

Wait a minute. There's Jules in the dining room.

Come on, honey. We're going in.

Oh.

Oh, I feel dizzy. Oh, help, somebody grab her, quick. Quick, darling.

You better not go in there.

The food must be poison.

My husband and I, we've decided we can't possibly

take time off for six months toward the Orient.

Well, then take it in easy stages. Travel weekend.

Oh, plenty of room inside.

Oh, pass right on through, folks.

You're using up the oxygen.

I'm a doctor.

Can I help you?

No, I couldn't afford your fee. Just go right on in.

You better take over, Doc. You know more about food poisoning than I do.

Let's get out of here. Food poisoning?

In this place?

What food poisoning?

That couple owns a restaurant down the block.

Well, look at her. Does she look like she's been poisoned?

Table?

For two.

Yeah, I guess so.

Harry, I don't want to eat in this place.

All right, Gladys. I feel the same way.

Let's go.

No, don't go, folks.

Please. The food is really working for me. You're honest again. Doctor!

You got it?

Quitters.

Party poopers. These are wasting.

Let's go out and drag in the first blonde we meet. Buy her bleached,

store-bought hair, if necessary.

What are you gaping at? Oh, well, I wasn't gaping. I was just staring.

I mean, your hairdo, it's, oh, it's...

Just beautiful. Thanks. You can get one just like it at your nearest taxidermist.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm looking for a phone. Oh,

but you've got to have dinner first. I beg your pardon?

Who ever heard of phoning on an empty seat?

Stomach. Oh, that is, I'll have a phone brought to the table.

If you don't mind, this is a private call. I don't want every Joe listening in.

Well, there's no one named Joe at our table. Come on.

You monkey skull, I...

Loco!

There hasn't been a brunette through here yet, has there? Just a mink.

Huh? Please, let's not talk about it.

Are you sure I should... Oh, yes, yes, of course.

You just go right through that door to table 23 and ask for Mr. Vernon.

He'll be the one that's smiling.

I'm sure he'll be happy to give you a very generous donation to your cause.

He should. He'll be $15,000 richer the minute he lays eyes on you. Thank you.

Oh, but stay away from the other man. He may be dangerous.

He uses such dreadful language.

Dreadful language?

There was one thing especially about my brains.

That had all the earmarks of a dirty crack.

And if there's anything I can't stand, it's dirty

earmarks. You mean your quarrel? What about?

All because I invited this brunette to our table to make a telephone call.

And she turned out to be a mink beanie.

Follow me?

Not without a road map. Slowly.

I just told you.

This blonde I brought in was wearing a fur hat.

So naturally I thought she was a brunette.

Naturally.

Oh, well.

If I'd wear my glasses, these things wouldn't happen. Uh-uh.

You'd do much better without them. Hello? Oh.

This is she.

Tom Gates, you have your nerve.

I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth and the richest.

Uh-huh.

Oh, well, that's different.

Fine.

What's different?

The wedding's on Sunday. Wait.

Loco, you can't marry that kind of a man.

Well, I certainly can't. He's marrying somebody else.

That mission girl.

He says she's the most beautiful, lovely thing he's ever met.

Not only that, she's made him give up gambling.