Sitting Pretty Page #8

but, Mr. King, I think

you have a slight edge.

You keep out of this!

Harry, listen.

Oh, you still here. I thought you

were going home to your mother.

Very well, if that's the way

you feel about it.

That's exactly the way

I feel about it.

I agree with Mr. Belvedere.

You're acting like...

that's the whole trouble. You

always agree with Mr. Belvedere.

Well, what are you waiting for? Nothing.

Now I know where we stand.

Well, you've smashed up my home.

I hope you're satisfied.

Stupidity never gives me

satisfaction, Mr. King.

Your wife is right. You

owe her an abject apology.

If she thinks I'm gonna come crawling

on my knees to ask forgiveness,

she's got another thing coming.

I'm going out

and get good and drunk.

Intoxication is a form of escape,

often sought by the mentally immature.

Oh!

It's all there was.

Oh.

Nothing from Harry?

Oh, Harry doesn't write. I don't

even expect to hear from him.

Why, of course not, dear.

That's why you leap for the door when the

mail comes or when the telephone rings.

- I never could fool either of you for long.

- No, dear.

Sometimes you were able to pull

the wool over your father's eyes,

but never over mine.

Okay, then.

We had a fight.

- About this Mr. Belvedere?

- Yes.

Oh, Harry's such a fool.

He was seething with ridiculous suspicion

and jealousy. I could have wrung his neck.

When a woman wants to wring her husband's

neck, she's usually in the wrong.

Well, anyway, he could have phoned or sent

a postcard or something, after three days.

You're the one who walked out.

Have you phoned or sent a

postcard? After what he said to me?

Oh, go ahead.

Call him up.

I will not. Why, he

practically accused me of...

okay, so he flew off the handle.

Harry was always that

way, dear, full of Ginger.

Ginger. Yes.

Look, dad, you and mother

can go on your fishing trip.

don't bother about me. I'll stay

here with Roddy. We'll be all right.

What's the matter with you?

Nothing.

Finish your homework?

Pop, when's mom coming home?

Oh, I don't know.

A few days.

Why did she go?

Well, I guess

she got lonesome for grandma.

Well, I'm lonesome for her.

So's Tony.

Aren't you?

Sure. Sure.

Why don't you call her up?

She's been gone a whole week.

Go on, pop.

Call her.

Why don't you run upstairs?

It's almost bedtime.

Okay.

Pop, what's a moron?

Well, it's someone who isn't

very bright. You know, a dope.

Oh.

Why do you ask?

Because that's what

somebody said you were.

Who said that?

Well, uh...

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Where do you think you're going? Out.

It's Thursday,

my evening off. Remember?

Did you tell my kids

I was a moron?

I most assuredly did not.

But, uh, Mr. King, if you wish it kept

a secret, you should not act like one.

Take my advice. Bury your idiotic

pride and telephone your wife.

When I want your advice,

I'll ask for it.

Good evening.

Good night.

And don't bother to come back, except

for your clothes. You're through.

You can't mean that,

Mr. King.

Bear in mind

that in your wife's absence,

you will be quite helpless

without me.

I have half a mind to punch you right

in the nose, just on general principles.

It takes half a mind

to resort to such measures.

Why, you... oh! Oh!

I neglected to tell you

that in my youth,

I was quite expert

in the art of fisticuffs.

[ Groans ]

Mother,

have you read chapter...

mother. Mother!

What's the matter?

Effie. Effie!

Mother, speak to me. It's Clarence.

Mother, please don't frighten me.

Mother. Effie. Effie get the

smelling salts. My mother has fainted.

Yes, sir. Mother. Come on, mother.

Mother! Oh, mother.

Mother! Mother! Can't you

hear me, mother? Mother!

Bring me every book we have

on the law of libel.

And tell Mr. King I want to see

him at once. Yes, Mr. Hammond.

[ Door opens, slams ]

Here we go, kids. Hey,

girls, get a load of this.

What? What is it? This chapter here

on Mr. gammon. Horace G. Gammon.

Couldn't get much closer

than that, could they?

It tells about Mr. gammon

keeping physically fit...

By chasing the office girls around

their desks, trying to pinch them.

Oh, oh, boy. How could

this Belvedere know that?

Well, it's true, isn't it?

You're still black and blue.

Wait till Mrs. gammon

reads that. [ All giggling ]

Well?

What about those books?

Yes, Mr. gammon...

Hammond!

Hello, Della.

Hello.

I, uh, understand

I'm referred to in...

oh, yes, Mr. Mcpherson.

You're mentioned on page, um...

Well, you better let me

have a copy. Certainly.

Now, now, Emily, don't be silly.

This book is merely fiction.

Oh, well, we'll discuss

it tonight. I'll be home...

[ click ]

Hello? Hello?

[ Scoffs ] Get me my

attorneys right away.

[ Phone ringing ]

Hello. Yes.

Yes, this is Mrs. Harry King.

- Oh, all right.

- Hello?

They're putting her on.

Hello. Oh, hello, Tacey.

[ Sighs ] Oh, it's you, Edna. I

thought it was... is anything wrong?

Anything? Oh, sweetie,

everything's wrong.

Now, don't get panicky.

Nobody's sick or anything.

It's your precious

Mr. Belvedere.

He's got this whole town in

an uproar. He's written a book.

Yes, I know. I just this

moment saw the advertisement.

Well, go on, tell me.

What's happened?

Well, in the first place,

Harry's been fired.

Why? For harboring

Belvedere, of course.

Tell her about me.

Oh, yes.

And when bill tried to stand

up for Harry, he got fired too.

Oh, my gosh. Well, let me

speak to Harry. Put him on.

What?

Well, where is he?

We don't know.

He's not at home.

He's probably out somewhere looking for a

nice soft shoulder to cry on. Bill says that...

[ click ]

Hello?

Well, it worked. She just

said good-bye and hung up.

[ Chattering ]

That's good.

All right, we're ready.

Now, Mr. Belvedere,

I'll be behind the camera,

and I'm going to ask you a few

questions, so just be perfectly relaxed...

young man,

I need no instructions.

I have directed many pictures.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I didn't know that.

All right, everybody,

quiet. [ Man ] Quiet, please.

Roll 'em. Speed.

Now, Mr. Belvedere, tell us,

how did you write this book?

I wrote it with a quill.

Oh, that's very interesting. So that's

why we could never hear anything.

Look! It's mom!

Mom!

Hi, mom!

Hello, darling.

Hello, mom.

Oh, Tony, baby.

Oh, I missed you so much.

Oh, we've missed you too. Hi.

Hello, Roddy.

Where's your daddy?

He's inside.

Come on. Quick.

Mr. Belvedere, critics throughout the

country have unanimously hailed your novel...

- As a masterpiece of sheer genius.

- That is correct.

And, uh, how do you

feel about it?

I feel they were

quite conservative.

Pop, look!

It's mom!

[ Man ] Quiet in there! Oh, darling.

[ Man ] Quiet! We're

shooting in here! Cut.

Oh, darling, I had to come back the

minute I knew you were in trouble.

don't worry.

It'll work out all right.

Gosh, honey, I...

I've been such a dope.

[ Mr. Belvedere ]

You have indeed.

No need to be emotional,

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