Fancy Pants Page #7

---

Aggie! Pa! Pa! Aggie!

- What's the matter?

- What?

It's the president!

Welcome to Big Squaw,

Mr. President.

I'm Mike Floud.

This here's my daughter Aggie.

- How do you do?

- And this here's the Earl of Brinstead.

Oh, quite. And this is our hostess,

Mrs. Effie Floud.

- Wake up, Ma.

- I'm sorry, Mrs. Floud.

I dropped in so unexpectedly.

But we drove over from Broken Arrow.

I should've stayed

on the official train.

But I've listened to so many

welcoming speeches,

I was hoping to avoid

the one at your depot.

I hope you'll excuse our appearance.

We were out in the kitchen

just fixing things up for you.

Yes, even the earl.

He's good at cleaning and polishing.

Oh, yes, it's a matter

of your democracy, sir.

You know, when in Rome

and all that sort of thing.

Take the president to the parlor

till things get fixed up in the kitchen.

Please, let's not be formal,

Mrs. Floud.

I'd like to go out

in the kitchen with you.

- Could I?

- You mean it?

I make a steak sauce

that is very popular in Washington.

- You do?

- Extraordinary!

- Learned it in Paris.

- Paris cooking!

- Well, you're our man.

- He's the nicest president I ever met.

- Back to the kitchen, everybody!

- Delighted. Bully for you.

- And to think I almost voted for Bryan!

- I say, this is a ginger group, isn't it?

- There we are.

- Sure looks good, don't it?

- Give me some.

- I'm agog with anticipation.

- Wonderful!

- As you'd say, delicious!

- Thank you, thank you.

- It still needs more cooking sherry.

- Pa.

- Gee whiz, Ma.

I ain't had a drink since

I got bit by that rattler.

Yeah, and Pa's getting too old

to climb them hills.

- Agatha!

- Perhaps another dash wouldn't hurt.

Nonsense. Keep your nose

out of the president's recipe.

- In my opinion...

- Nobody's interested.

There was plenty of sherry

in your cooking before we married.

Why, Mike Floud!

Are you insinuating...

Ma, if you'd used stronger sherry,

I bet I'd be two years older.

You keep out of this!

And you, Mike Floud...

- Don't start that doggone argument.

- Mrs. Floud, Mr. Floud!

After all, the president

is on his vacation.

Do you want him to think

he's back with Congress?

Sorry, Mr. President.

I've heard discussions

like this in my own kitchen.

And I must say, my wife

has convinced me

that I have just as much right

to her opinion as she has.

Ain't it the truth.

You mean the first lady

has the last word.

Well put, Brinstead.

And now we melt a little butter.

The butter's right over here.

Isn't he wonderful?

Yeah, this whole earl business

makes me feel like a low-down...

- Oh, Brinstead.

- Coming, sir.

Tell me, Brinstead,

what is the attitude in England

regarding the

Mediterranean situation?

Oh, yes. Well, frankly, there are two

schools of thought: Pro and con.

Of course, but just how do they

feel about it, pro and con?

The pro people seem to be for it and

the con group are definitely against it.

Naturally.

But you personally, Brinstead,

- just what stand do you take?

- Oh, me? Yes, well, I'm pro.

Why, Brinstead.

How can you endorse a situation

that only leads to trouble?

Well, what I mean is, I'm pro-con. I'm

for those who are against it, you see.

He wasn't even on the train!

Me, a registered Democrat, waiting

at the station for a whole hour!

My speech all written out in longhand

too! And he never even show...

- Jumping Jehoshaphat, it's him!

- Where you going?

The committee's waiting

on the front porch!

Here we go.

Well, Brinstead, I guess we're in for it.

But at least we made a good try.

It was ripping while it lasted,

Mr. President. Shall we?

- Ma, where's my collar and tie?

- In the chafing dish.

Hurry up!

Mr. President,

as mayor of Big Squaw,

permit me to welcome you

to our fair city.

Oh, bravo, bravo!

Excellent oration. Brief but meaty.

- Thank you, Mr. Mayor. Thank you all.

- But Mr. President, there's more.

- That's all right. Mail it in later.

- Yes, everybody pitch into the food.

- Just move right around.

- It's free.

Aggie gets credit

for this venison, Mr. President.

She shot it

from over 200 yards away.

- Bully for you! That's good shooting.

- Thank you.

How do you do? If I had the time,

I'd like to do some hunting here.

Too bad. We have plenty of deer

around here and bear too.

Very tempting. But my schedule

calls for me to leave tonight.

- What we ought to have is a fox hunt.

- Oh, yes, they're fun. Sure.

I brought back some of the most

wonderful hunting outfits from London.

What a wonderful idea! I could've

arranged a wonderful fox hunt

that would've even been a pleasure for

the fox. Over hill and dale and away!

Tallyho and all that rot.

A shame you have to be going.

- I can't rearrange my train schedule.

- Of course you can't.

Too bad.

We would've talked of it for years.

- Yeah, a fox hunt.

- Bad show, disappointing the hounds.

By gad, we won't disappoint them,

Brinstead. We'll have a fox hunt.

Bennett!

We're staying over till tomorrow.

- See about the trains.

- Hurray for President Roosevelt!

- And Brinstead can lead the hunt.

- Hurray for the earl!

I might even start tonight.

Tallyho!

Come on, boy. Come on, boy.

Faster, boy! Come on, Old Paint.

We can catch that fox!

Giddyap, boy, giddyap.

Okay, hold it, boy.

Not bad.

Not bad barrel riding.

- Now we'll try the horse.

- A real live horse?

- An animal?

- Yeah. Here's old Bessie.

Oh, be careful.

Here's old Bessie.

Get on, get the feel of her.

Gentle as a kitten.

Look at those teeth.

Over 15 years old.

I wasn't afraid she'd bite me.

It's sitting on her I'm worried about.

But here goes.

- Lied about her age!

- Well, back to the barrel.

Aggie, let's face it. I can't go out

there riding in any fox hunt.

Playing an earl was easy,

but all I ever hunted was a job.

But you gotta ride.

The town's depending on you.

Let's say you convince me.

Who's convincing the horse?

I'll teach you to stick in the saddle

if we have to work all night.

No. I've tried, but I'm just

a living-room earl.

You'll have to get another

for that rough stuff.

I ain't asking you to try to ride

for Big Squaw or for Pa or Ma.

It's just for me.

Me? I mean, you?

The first time I saw you,

I said to myself:

"Here's a dirty, low-down,

lily-livered coyote."

Then as I got to know you better,

I figured you for a filthy, sneaking rat.

I grow on people like that.

But then again, you remind me of a

little chipmunk I had when I was a kid.

Only thing I ever loved.

Same look in the eyes you've got.

I'll never forget how he looked at me

just before he went West.

California?

Dead. Cart Belknap shot him.

Did you tell Cart Belknap that we

didn't mean a thing to each other?

Not yet, but I was fixing to.

Well, don't. Because I don't like

my women to be lying.

You mean you aren't running

out on us?

Let me back on that barrel.

Nothing's gonna stop me,

maybe not even a horse!

Would you give me help, please?

- Leg up.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes