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THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES ("FAMILY TREE -- HIGH CLASS FOLKS") -- SCREENPLAY |
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Created and produced by Paul Henning, executive producer Al Simon, starring Buddy Ebsen, Irene Ryan, Donna Douglas, Max Baer, Bea Benaderet, Rosemary DeCamp, Raymond Bailey, Nancy Kulp, and Harriet MacGibbon The Beverly Hillbillies ("Family Tree -- High Class Folks") -- Screencap Gallery The Beverly Hillbillies ("Family Tree -- High Class Folks") -- Little Movies [Transcribed from the movie by Tara Carreon, American Buddha Online Librarian] JED: Howdy Pearl. Have a nice trip into town? PEARL: No, I didn’t. Every place we went folks stared at us. JED: Well, Pearl, you’ve got to expect that. A fancy woman like you, dressed to the teeth, showing a purty ankle, folks are bound to stare. PEARL: If you ask me, they was staring at this old truck. I know it’s mine, Jed, but it just ain’t fittin’ for Beverly Hills. JETHRO: You know what a couple of people yelled at us, Uncle Jed? They yelled, “Get a horse!” JED: I reckon they’d stare more at a horse. PEARL: Jed, why don’t you get one of those big, shiny limousines like Mr. Drysdale? JED: Ah, this old truck is right handy for fetchin’ and totin’. It needs a little polish here and there. Jethro, you get you a piece of brick and hone all this rust off here, and then go over the whole thing with coal oil. JETHRO: Say, Uncle Jed, if you was to get yourself one of them there fancy limousines, I could be your chauffeur, and drive you around in style. PEARL: Yeah, you could get in the back seat all duded up, and folks would think you was a duke or a earl or something. JETHRO: Yeah! JED: Oh, I don’t reckon I’d fool nobody. Besides, I ain’t particular anxious to have folks think I’m somethin’ I ain’t. JETHRO: You’re a millionaire! Why, I bet you that’s just as good as a duke or an earl. JED: Alright, Jethro, take her around and go to polishin’. PEARL: You know, Jed, Mr. Drysdale could help you get into high society, and you could join one of those fancy clubs, and go to stylish parties, and get my picture in the paper. I mean get YOUR picture in the paper. JED: I don’t hanker for high society, Pearl, but if you do, I’ll speak to Mr. Drysdale. They tell me that when it comes to society, his wife is one of the first hogs to the trough. PEARL: It ain’t for me, Jed, but it sure would be nice for Ellie Mae. Why, she could be a debutante, and have a coming out party, and … JED: What’s that? PEARL: It’s a party where unmarried society girls meet unmarried society fellas. Why, Ellie Mae and me could get a hu – that is Ellie Mae could get a husband in no time. GRANNY: Jed, you got my butter churn patched up? JED: No I ain’t got it quite finished yet, Granny. PEARL: Jed, do you have to do your chores out here in front where everyone can see you? JED: Well, no, Pearl, but the light’s better here, and these iron chairs here make good work benches. PEARL: But what will the neighbors think with all this stuff out here? GRANNY: Pearl’s right, Jed. It does look like we’s showing off. PEARL: Showing off? GRANNY: Well, I bet there’s not another family in Beverly Hills that has a butter churn like that’n. ELLIE MAE: Pa, you got Granny’s spinnin’ wheel fixed? She’s going to show me how to make Linsey Woolsey thread. PEARL: Oh, how am I ever going to get this family in high society? ELLIE MAE: What’s that, Aunt Pearl? PEARL: Well, society is where a bunch of high class folks do a bunch of high class things. GRANNY: Like what? PEARL: Well, like drinkin’ tea, and playin’ bridge, and havin’ parties, and gettin’ dressed up, and goin’ to the opery, and gettin’ wrote up in the paper. Oh, I give up. You can’t make silk purses out of sow’s ears. GRANNY: If Pearl’s so dad-blamed anxious to drink some tea, I can make her any kind she wants. Some red clover, some slippery elm, or some sassafras. JED: I don’t reckon it’s the tea so much as who she’s drinkin’ it with, Granny. Pearl would like to get in with them society women, like Ms. Drysdale. GRANNY: Yeah, Pearl always was one to want better than what she could afford. JED: That’s Pearl. Too poor to paint and too proud to whitewash. *** MR. DRYSDALE: And while I’m sure that the bank examiners will find our fiscal situation to be sound, I am extremely anxious to … MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, Milburn and Ms. Hathaway, do you know who’s coming? MR. DRYSDALE: Yes, the bank examiner. MRS. DRYSDALE: I’m sure they’ll find your bank ever so tidy. Now to important matters. I have just received this telegram from Priscilla Rolfe Alden Smith-Standish. She has consented to become our houseguest. MR. DRYSDALE: Oh, surely you’re jesting? MRS. DRYSDALE: No. MR. DRYSDALE: Well, Priscilla Rolfe Alden Smith-Standish is going to be staying at our house? MRS. DRYSDALE: Yes, indeed, Milburn. MR. DRYSDALE: Well who in blue blazes is she? MRS. DRYSDALE: Miss Hathaway, did you hear that? Milburn, how can you be so uninformed and run a bank? MR. DRYSDALE: Well, I have you helping me, dear. MRS. DRYSDALE: Thank goodness! Mrs. Smith-Standish is only the president of the Women’s Federation for the preservation and perpetuation of the FFT of A. MISS HATHAWAY: First Family Traditions of America. MR. DRYSDALE: Well, bully for the FFT of A. But I’m expecting the SBE of C. MISS HATHAWAY: State Bank Examiners of California. MR. DRYSDALE: Thank you. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, well, wait Milburn. Do I have your permission to put everything in readiness for the arrival of Mrs. Smith-Standish? MR. DRYSDALE: Oh, you have indeed! MRS. DRYSDALE: Good, I’ll have the Clampetts moved out immediately. MR. DRYSDALE: Fine. What? Margaret, come back here! Now what were you saying about the Clampetts? MRS. DRYSDALE: I intend to rid our neighborhood of those uncouth, unsightly hillbillies before the arrival of our prestigious houseguest. MR. DRYSDALE: You do, and the president of the FFT of A will be staying at the YWCA with you. MRS. DRYSDALE: Milburn! MR. DRYSDALE: When are you going to get it through your head that Jed Clampett’s money is one of the pillars of this bank? MISS HATHAWAY: Mrs. Drysdale, if you’d only take the time to get to know the Clampetts, I’m sure you’d agree that they are basically very fine people. MRS. DRYSDALE: Surely you’re not suggesting that I mingle with them socially, introduce my friends to them? MR. DRYSDALE: Oh, no, don’t do that! They’ll move away for sure. MRS. DRYSDALE: Well, it’s obvious that I’ll get no understanding or cooperation here. I should have listened to mother. She warned me against marrying a common bank president. *** JED: It’ll work good now, Granny. What room do you want me to put it in? GRANNY: Well, I reckon in the kitchen, Jed. And whilst I’m showing Ellie how to work it, I can watch my vittles cookin’. JED: Well, I got to do a little more fixin’ on the bobbin’. I’ll have that out in a minute. ELLIE MAE: Is it hard to learn, Granny? GRANNY: Yep, it’s a might tricky at first. But once you catch on to mixin’ the wool and the flax together, it comes easy. PEARL: Don’t you go to weavin’ and spinnin’ in here. I just scrubbed and polished this floor, and I don’t want no Linsey Woolsey dust from that crazy old contraption messin’ it up. GRANNY: What do you mean, crazy old contraption? PEARL: I mean, that old thing. Now get it out of here. ELLIE MAE: Well, should I put it in the kitchen, Granny? GRANNY: You can put it right in the middle of this room. PEARL: Don’t you dare. This floor’s clean enough to eat off of. GRANNY: Good! Ellie, fetch my pot of jowls off of the stove. PEARL: You splatter one drop of jowl juice on this floor, and I’ll wrap this spinnin’ wheel around your neck. GRANNY: You touch that spinnin’ wheel and there’ll be more than jowl juice splattered on this floor. PEARL: You unleash on me and I’ll bash you over the head so hard your shoes will have three tongues. *** MRS. DRYSDALE: Drive on out to the airport and pick up Mrs. Smith-Standish. I have some slum clearance work to perform. JED: Well, howdy there, Ms. Drysdale. Sure is a nice surprise to have you come to visit. Pearl and me was just talkin’ about you this mornin’. Pearl’s got a hankerin’ to get into society, and I says, “Well, I hear tell when it comes to society, Mrs. Drysdale’s one of the first hogs to the trough.” Say, you’re lookin’ might green around the gills. Come on inside and have a mess of Granny’s jowls and sorghum. That’ll put you to feelin’ bushytailed. MRS. DRYSDALE: Mr. Clampett, I am expecting very important company: Priscilla Rolfe Alden Smith-Standish. JED: Well, bring them along. We’ve got plenty for the whole bunch. MRS. DRYSDALE: Mr. Clampett, Priscilla Rolfe Alden Smith-Standish is only one woman, and probably the world’s greatest authority on colonial history, early American genealogical origins, and 17th and 18th century artifacts. And she is the esteemed president of the FFT of A. JED: Well, we sure would be proud to meet her. MRS. DRYSDALE: I shall call upon every resource to avert such a social catastrophe. JED: Well, thank you very kindly. MRS. DRYSDALE: May I send a truck to pick up this debris? JED: Well, I don’t know. I’m sure Granny’d let you use anything you wanted, but I don’t think she wants to sell it. MRS. DRYSDALE: I would only want it for the rubbish collector. JED: Yeah, you’re right, they make nice gifts, but like I said … MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, enough of this! Time grows short. PEARL: You are a disgrace to Beverly Hills, you and this pile of junk. Why don’t you go back to the woods and live in a cave, where you belong? MRS. DRYSDALE: Bravo! My sentiments precisely. You are indeed a disgrace. And the sooner you leave this lovely community, the better. PEARL: Just a doggone minute, fatso. You be careful what you say to our Granny, here. JED: Now girls, no, no. PEARL: How dare her to say those things about sweet little Granny. JED: Pearl, I hope you ain’t in no hurry to get into high society. I just don’t think that Ms. Drysdale is going to be too quick about givin’ you a leg up. *** MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: You say Mrs. Drysdale is here? CHAUFFEUR: Yes, ma’am. If it’s alright, I’ll take the bags on over to her house. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Of course. Thank you. JETHRO: There goes that dad-blasted music again. One of these days I’m goin’ to tear out all of these walls and find out where that music’s comin’ from. ELLIE MAE: Granny says there’s ghosts playin’ that music. JETHRO: Maybe it’s the rascal who used to live here. ELLIE MAE: He sure don’t know many tunes. He keeps playin’ the same one over and over again. JED: Jethro, why don’t you ask your teacher over at Potts school about that music? JETHRO: I’ll do it, Uncle Jed. But one thing I know for sure, somebody’s goin’ to come to that door. They always do when you hear that music. See? JED: You sure had it pegged right. By the way, your ma wants you in the kitchen. Well, howdy ma’am. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Tell me, is this your loom out here. JED: No, ma’am. That belongs to Granny. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: May I speak to her, please? JED: You sure can. Come on in. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: I have reason to believe … ah, what have we here? JED: That there’s my daughter, Ellie Mae. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: The spinning wheel, where did you get it? ELLIE MAE: It’s Granny’s. She says it’s been in her family for a couple of hundred years or better. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: I’ve got to meet Granny immediately. Oh, forgive me. I’m Mrs. Smith-Standish. JED: Well, howdy ma’am. I’m Jed Clampett, and like I say, this here’s my daughter Ellie Mae. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: How do you do? ELLIE MAE: Howdy. JED: Granny’s out in the kitchen churnin’ butter. Why don’t you go fetch her, Ellie Mae? MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Oh, no, please. Churning butter? You mean, by hand? JED: Oh, no, ma’am. With a churn. That’s another thing that’s been in her family a powerful long time. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Take me to her, will you please? JED: That’ll be a pleasure, ma’am. PEARL: It ain’t no use, Granny. You can’t get a polish on this pewter junk. GRANNY: I bet you can, Pearl. PEARL: How can a body set a decent table with this kind of stuff? Why, if we was to have company, we’d all be disgraced. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: How enchanting! A vignette from the past. Oh, don’t move. What a picture. The homespun dress, the colonial dustcap, the churn, the pewter, the old coffee mill. Oh, it’s a tableaux from another century. GRANNY: Who do you reckon she is, Pearl? PEARL: Dogged if I know. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: May I get some pictures? JED: What kind of pictures? MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Still pictures. GRANNY: She’s a dad-blamed revenuer. JED: Now hold on, Granny. Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute, wait a minute. GRANNY: Oh, you let her take your gun. Now we’ll have to rush her barehanded. JED: I don’t figure this lady is no revenuer. She’s just powerful took with old things. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: How long have you had this rifle? JED: Well, my pa give it to me, his pa give it to him, I reckon his pa did the same. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Marvelous. And the churn. How long have you had this? JED: Granny, ain’t that the churn that saved your great-great Granny from the Injuns? GRANNY: It sure is. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Oh, tell me about it, would you? GRANNY: Well, my great great Granny was a totin’ this churn from the cow barn to the cabin when two big Indians jumped out of the woods to scalp her. She had beautiful hair, just like mine. JED: Get on with the story, Granny. GRANNY: Well, she was out of sorts to begin with ‘cause it was a hot day, and the butter kept a meltin’. And with those two redskins tryin’ to snatch her hair, that riled her up good. So she yanked up the dasher, and she whopped one of them with it. Then she upended the churn over the other one. That old Indian ran out into the woods all covered with hot melted butter. He hadn’t gone 50 feet when a great big old bear came out of the woods, grabbed that old rascal, and licked him to death. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: What a wonderful story. GRANNY: From then on, every day that old bear would come around lookin’ for Granny to send him another hot buttered Indian. *** MRS. DRYSDALE: Milburn, do you know what that is? MR. DRYSDALE: No, what is it? MRS. DRYSDALE: That is a hog jowl. MR. DRYSDALE: Oh, well thanks dear but I have other plans for lunch. MRS. DRYSDALE: I have just been pelted with those repulsive objects by your friends and our neighbors the Clampetts. Milburn, this is the last straw. Call out the militia, have the neighborhood re-zoned, write our congressman, do anything that’s necessary, but get rid of those hillbillies. MR. DRYSDALE: Oh, Margaret, they’re not a bad sort. MRS. DRYSDALE: They’re barbarians. And I warn you, Milburn, just as they brought about the decay of Rome, so Beverly Hills will crumble … MR. DRYSDALE: Oh, please, Margaret, relax. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, you don’t understand such things as class war. You’re of common birth. But we, of the aristocracy, have always had to feel the hostility of peasants. I tell you, Milburn, those Clampetts are dangerous. If they’ll attack me with hog jowls, think what they might do to a woman like Priscilla Rolfe Alden Smith-Standish. And she’s due to arrive at any moment. MISS HATHAWAY: Oh, she has arrived, Mrs. Drysdale. Your chauffeur just phoned. He dropped her off at the Clampetts thinking you were there. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, they have her! She’s been delivered into the hands of those savages! MR. DRYSDALE: Well, get those savages on the phone. We’ll prove to Margaret that everything is alright. *** MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: This may be the oldest piece of pewter ever to be found on this continent. PEARL: Well, I’m just mortified Mrs. Smith-Standish. I’ve been after Cousin Jed to get rid of all this junk. Now that he has money, I’m going to throw it all out. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: No, no, please. It’s priceless. JED: Say, Ms. Smith-Standish, if you like
old things, just wait until you get into this trunk. You’ll be as happy
as a heifer in red clover. JED: Well, no, not anymore. It got too old. Commenced to crispin’ and flakin’ off, so they pitched in and got another one about a hundred years ago. It’s in there, in the parlor. [PHONE RINGS] JETHRO: Well, I’ll get it, Uncle Jed. Hello. Yes, ma’am, this is Jethro. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Dedicated to Queen Elizabeth. Mr. Clampett, this is an original Geneva bible. It’s sometimes called a Puritan Bible. 400 years old. JETHRO: Oh, why, yes ma’am, Miss Hathaway, she’s right here. You’re wanted on the phone, ma’am. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Not now. Tell ‘em I’m all tied up. JETHRO: Hello, uh, she can’t talk right now. She’s all tied up in Uncle Jed’s trunk. Hello. Hello. *** MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, oh, oh, oh. MR. DRYSDALE: I thought the fresh air would revive her. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, Milburn, what if they’ve strangled my president, or she’s suffocated in that trunk? MISS HATHAWAY: Mrs. Drysdale, I am certain that the Clampetts would not do violent harm to Mrs. Smith-Standish. Jethro has a way of confusing the facts. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to participate in this historical re-creation. GRANNY: No, honey, this is what you call spinnin’. Now hold your thread tight. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: I will, I will. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, oh, oh, untie this woman. Madam President, what have they done to you? Milburn, call the police. I want these ruffians seized and hanged immediately. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: What are you doing? MRS. DRYSDALE: Rescuing you from the grimy clutches of these peasants. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Peasants? My dear Mrs. Drysdale, it may interest you to know that I have established almost beyond a doubt that Mr. Clampett here is a direct descendant of the first man to come ashore at Jamestown, Virginia, May 13, 1607. MRS. DRYSDALE: What? You mean … MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: I mean that when your family and my family arrived on the Mayflower, his family was waiting for them. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, oh, oh. Mrs. Smith-Standish, surely there must be some ghastly mistake? Perhaps you’re in a state of shock from the way these people have mistreated you? MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: I’ve never been more hospitably treated in my life. I’ve dined on hog jowls, sorghum, homemade bread, fresh churned butter served on pottery that might have been unearthed at Williamsburg. And I’ve eaten this delicious food with ancient pewter implements that would grace any museum. GRANNY: That reminds me, I better go wash those dishes. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Oh, Granny. I’m sure that Mrs. Drysdale would consider it an honor and a pleasure if you would permit HER to wash these historic dishes. Hmmm? MRS. DRYSDALE: What? MR. DRYSDALE: Oh, she would indeed consider it an honor. Wouldn’t you, Margaret? MRS. DRYSDALE: Well, whatever Madam President says, of course. GRANNY: Well, I better come along, see if I’ve got enough lye soap. MRS. DRYSDALE: Lye soap? How ghastly. GRANNY: I make it myself. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: You make your own lye soap? GRANNY: Got to! You can’t buy it in Beverly Hills. I offered to show Mrs. Drysdale how to make it, but she didn’t care to learn. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Mrs. Drysdale, am I to understand that you are ignorant of the process by which your own colonial ancestors made their soap? MRS. DRYSDALE: Well, Madam President, I … MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh, your education has been shamefully neglected. *** GRANNY: It’s about time to add some more lye and some possum renderings, Ms. Drysdale. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Oh, Mrs. Drysdale, I hope you appreciate the historical significance of this opportunity. You are re-enacting the making of soap just as it was done more than 300 years ago. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh yes, indeed, Madam President. I’m thrilled. GRANNY: She’s so happy she’s crying. MR. DRYSDALE: I wouldn’t have missed this for a million dollars, tax exempt. MISS HATHAWAY: Oh, chief, the bank examiners are waiting. MR. DRYSDALE: Yes, I know, I know. Oh, Mrs. Smith-Standish, don’t forget you promised to let my wife wash dishes, too. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Oh, I wouldn’t think of depriving her of the thrill of handling those authentic colonial implements. MR. DRYSDALE: And in the good old Colonial way. No automatic dishwasher. MRS. SMITH-STANDISH: Oh, heaven forbid! MR. DRYSDALE: Mrs. Smith-Standish, I have known you only a few brief minutes, but already you are one of my favorite people. We shall return. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, I’ve lost my coiffure, my mascara, and my manicure. GRANNY: Well, best forget about ‘em, honey. If they fell in that soap, they’s dissolved by now. *** GRANNY: How you doin’, Mrs. Drysdale? I can scare you up a few more things to wash if it pleasure you. MRS. DRYSDALE: Oh, no, please. Look at what this lye soap has done to my hands. GRANNY: Yeah, they is nice and pink and rosy, ain’t they? MRS. DRYSDALE: Raw, raw, raw! GRANNY: I don’t blame you for cheerin’. JED: I thought you left. MR. DRYSDALE: I couldn’t tear myself away from the picture of my wife washing dishes. JED: How about that? She’s takin’ to it like a cold hog to warm mud. THE END.
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