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: Ed, I want you to consider me your two-legged father. Mister Ed
: That would not work. Every day when I was little, I would always walk around singing "What Kind of Foal Am I?"
: Ed, if you're so obsessed with looking for your biological father, why not go visit your mother? Find out what happened to your father. Mister Ed
: No! You think I haven't done that before? Every time I bring up the subject, Mom starts balling her eyes out. Crying and unable to stop. Wilbur Post
: Your father walked out on her? Mister Ed
: I guess. All I know is that she got custody of me. Wilbur Post
: Yes, but when your mother was sold, I got custody of you, which makes me your father. Mister Ed
: No, no, no! I want my true, four-legged father!
: Gordon, what are you doing here? I thought you would go down to Tijuana for the weekend to watch the bullfights. Gordon Kirkwood
: That's not as much as thrilling and fun to see your father-in-law stick his horns into you.
: [holding bug spray
] Hold still, I'll get that fly for you. He's on the tip of your newspaper.
[Wilbur sprays the bug spray, but the spray hits Carol's dad, bearly missing his face
] Wilbur Post
: Dad, I'm sorry! The nosile must be on backwards. Mr. Hergesheimer
: You head is on backwards, you kook!
: [enters laughing
] Wilbur, I just saw the whole thing. If that's your way of making friends, how do you make enemies? Wilbur Post
: I don't know. I can't explain it. Around my father-in-law... I just... I am not myself. Gordon Kirkwood
: [still giddy
] Well, who ever you are you're not his type! Wilbur Post
: I just can't explain it. I need to make him happy because if he's not happy, Carol is not happy. I am so afraid around him, I just can't think straight or do anything right. You know, if I had any sense I'd do it. Gordon Kirkwood
: Do what? Wilbur Post
: Sit out the entire two weeks that he's here in his airport locker.
: Well, your father's plane will be arriving in about an hour. I'd better go down to the airport to pick him up. Carol Post
: You better let me go pick him up. Wilbur Post
: Why? Don't you trust me to make a simple drive to LAX and pick him up and drive him back here to our house? Carol Post
: The last time you went to pick him up last year for his visit, you came home with the suitcases, but left Dad at the airport! Wilbur Post
: How many times do I have to apologize for that? I keep telling you it wasn't all my fault. You know your father never speaks to me. How was I supposed to know that he wasn't sitting in the back seat?
: [after realizing for the first time that Mister Ed can talk
] This is incredible. I don't understand how it's possible. Mister Ed
: Don't try - it's bigger than both of us.
: Look, uh... I'm sorry but you've been talking to me all day and I still don't know your name. Mister Ed
: Call me Ed. Mister Ed. Wilbur Post
: What kind of a name is "Ed" for a horse? Mister Ed
: What kind of a name is "Wilbur" for a man?
: [to himself
] It's been a long time since I was a little boy. Mister Ed
: [speaking for the first time
] It's been a long time since I was a pony. Wilbur Post
: Who said that? No, that's impossible. Did you say that? No, how could you? Mister Ed
: Did you say it? Wilbur Post
: No, I didn't hear it. How could I? But I did. It's impossible. I don't believe it. Now, while I'm looking right at you say something. Mister Ed
: Like what? Wilbur Post
: Anything. Anything. Mister Ed
: How now, brown cow.
: Carol, I'm telling you the truth. That horse talks. Carol Post
: I wouldn't believe that horse talks even if the two of you stood over there and sung a duet!
[Carol runs out of the barn
] Wilbur Post
: [to Mister Ed
] Why didn't you talk to my wife? Mister Ed
: I hate skeptics!
: Roger, I came over here to ask you about the neighbor that lived in the house before me and Carol... Roger Addison
: Mr. Oldfelt? Wilbur Post
: Yes. I've been trying to get information about him. Did you know him very well? Roger Addison
: Yes, we were quite close. Wilbur Post
: Did you ever exchange confidences with him? Roger Addison
: Yes, quite often. Wilbur Post
: Did he ever tell you about his horse? Roger Addison
: No, what about his horse? Wilbur Post
: Did he ever tell you that his horse talks? Roger Addison
: No, Oldfelt said a lot of funny things but he never...
[Addison's face lights up and he takes a step away from Wilbur
] Roger Addison
: Would you repeat that please? Wilbur Post
: He never said anything to you about his horse talking? Roger Addison
] No. Wilbur Post
: Did the horse ever say anything? Did you ever hear the horse talking? Roger Addison
] The horse? No, why? Did the horse talk to you? Wilbur Post
: Well... yeah. He's been talking to me all afternoon.
: I can't belive this. My neighbor, my wife... my own wife whom I've known for three years, thinks that I'm crazy. I tell them that I have a horse that talks and they don't belive me. Mister Ed
: Why should they? It's ridiculous!
: Ed! Why do you insist on eavesdropping on our party line? Mister Ed
: You haven't been around for three days. I'm lonesome. Wilbur Post
: I've been busy. Mister Ed
: Doing what? Keeping house? Wilbur Post
: What's wrong with a man helping his wife around the house? Mister Ed
: Nothing. It's supposed to be a woman's job, Wilma. Wilbur Post
: If you were a real man, your wife would stay home nights. Wilbur Post
: Are you saying that Carol is losing interest in me? Mister Ed
: If the horseshoe fits. Wilbur Post
: Well, what am I doing wrong? Mister Ed
: Nothing. That's what's wrong.
: Oh, your wife came by. She took Carol to a women's club meeting. Roger Addison
: Club meeting? I hope you have a good photo of your wife. Wilbur Post
: Why? Roger Addison
: You may not be seeing her for years. You let your wife join the Women's Committee for Civic Improvement? Wilbur Post
: What is so terrible about that? Roger Addison
: Before Kay joined the W.C.C.I., I had a wife. Now, I've learned I've married a Gypsy. Wilbur Post
: Oh, she doesn't leave you alone that much. Roger Addison
: I have to stick pins in a map to keep track of her.
: Wilbur, when you let your wife join that women's club, you became a husband without portfolio. A married bachelor. A man in search of a can opener. Wilbur Post
: Now, hold on. You just don't know my wife. Roger Addison
: Your wife, my wife, they're all the same. First they get married to escape from their parents. Then they join clubs to escape from their husbands.
: Your horse need new shoes? Wilbur Post
: Yes... corrective horseshoes. The Blacksmith
: Corrective horseshoes? Wilbur Post
: Yes, I want them thickened a bit. The Blacksmith
: Oh, I see. You want me to make them more think and raise them up a little, like an eighth of an inch? Wilbur Post
: Oh, more then that. About six inches. The Blacksmith
: Well, that shouldn't be any... six inches? Why, that horse will be looking like he's standing on stilts. Wilbur Post
: That's okay. The taller he is the better. The Blacksmith
: Why do you want your horse to look taller? Wilbur Post
: Well... uh... he's in love with this filly, and she's taller then he is. The Blacksmith
: So? Wilbur Post
: Well, you know how embarassing that can be. The Blacksmith
: To whom? Wilbur Post
: To my horse. The Blacksmith
: Huh? Wilbur Post
: I mean, how would you like to go dancing with this woman and she's taller then you? The Blacksmith
: Your horse wants to go out dancing? Wilbur Post
: No no no, he just wants to meet her. Penelope's from England and she only goes out with taller horses. That's the filly I'm talking about. She's about three inches taller then my horse, Ed. The Blacksmith
: Mister, you know what I would do if I were you? Wilbur Post
: What? The Blacksmith
] Get the other horse to wear flats!
[after being fitted with his new lift shoes, Mister Ed is grunting and struggling to move
] Mister Ed
: Uh! Wilbur, I can't move! These horse shoes weigh a ton! Wilbur Post
: Come on, Ed. This is no time to be kidding around. Mister Ed
: Who's kidding? I feel like I'm wearing four buckets of cement. Wilbur Post
: Oh boy, this is all your fault! You wanted to be taller! Mister Ed
: But I didn't want to be heavier. What am I gonna do? Wilbur Post
: What are YOU going to do? What am I going to do? If I don't get home right away, I'll be in terrible trouble with Carol. Mister Ed
: But I can't even lift a hoof. We'd better go home in a cab.
: Look at him. My horse is so loaded down with shoes, he can't move. The Blacksmith
: Now look, Mr. Post. You wanted me to make your horse look taller? I made him taller. I didn't guarantee he'd be able to walk.
: Be kind to me, Wilbur. I just lost the love of my life. Wilbur Post
: If Carol sees all this, you're gonna lose your owner! Mister Ed
: I'm sorry about all this. I only took all this furniture from your house because I wanted to impress Penelope, but I guess I goofed. Wilbur Post
: Never mind that. What am I going to tell Carol when she sees all of her new living room furniture here in your stall? Mister Ed
: Tell her the truth. Tell her I did this. Wilbur Post
: Oh, fine! I tell her that and I'll spend the rest of my life on the couch. The pscyhiatrist's couch in the local loony bin!
: Wilbur, I'm attending college because I want to become a P.H.D. Wilbur Post
: P.H.D.? Mister Ed
: Palomino Horse Doctor.
: Ed, I can't belive it. You really did open an animal clinic here in the barn! Mister Ed
: Shhh! I'm helping a sick chicken here. Wilbur Post
: [looks at a chicken perched atop a stool
] What's wrong with it? Mister Ed
: She's expecting her first egg and she's a little nervous about it. Wilbur Post
: Ed, that's a rooster! Mister Ed
: Opps! Wilbur Post
: Didn't you learn in college about how to tell the sexes apart? Mister Ed
: Yeah, but it must have been the class I missed thanks to you. Wilbur Post
: What are you going to do now? Mister Ed
: Well, I was going to give her, or him, some relaxing pills. Wilbur Post
: Relaxing pills? Mister Ed
: Yeah, the same kind you took when your father-in-law first came to visit.
: [examining a goat
] What's wrong with him? Mister Ed
: Splitting headaches. He keeps butting his head against fences. Wilbur Post
: What are you going to do for him? Mister Ed
: Have him take two asprine and have him to check back on me in the morning. But be careful. Don't let him eat the whole bottle.
: [examinating a cow
] What's wrong with her? Mister Ed
: I hear wheezing between the filet and top sirloin. Must be some kind of breathing blockage. Have her go on a light carb diet with lots of greens.
: Now, let me think. What else could I put in that box?
[Wilbur's face lights up and he looks directly at Mr. Ed
] Mister Ed
: Forget it! You're not measuring me for any box. Wilbur Post
: Of course, instead of swords, I'll use spears. I'll get a special box made. Mister Ed
: Yeah, with six handles so they can carry me out. Wilbur Post
: You'll be fine, Ed. This is the way it works: you get in the box, and I stick the spears through... Mister Ed
: And there I am: shishkebob! Wilbur Post
: You'll be all right. I'll hire a special carpenter to make the box, see? Everything down will be measured to the fraction of an inch. You'll be as safe as... Mister Ed
: Sitting on a deck chair on the Titanic!
: Ed, don't you want me to beat Marty Bixby and win this magic contest? Mister Ed
: No harpoons for me! My name is Mister Ed, not Moby Dick. Wilbur Post
: Ed, didn't you tell me that you're dying to go to San Francisco? Mister Ed
: When I said it, it was just a figure of speach.
: Ed, do you think I'd take a chance hurting you? Mister Ed
: No. Wilbur Post
: If I thought you'd get the slightest scratch, do you think I'd put you in that box? Mister Ed
: No. Wilbur Post
: So, will you do the trick for me tomorrow night? Mister Ed
[in Mister Ed's dream, he is dressed as a mad doctor and Wilbur, dressed in scrubs, is his assistant as they look over an x-ray
] Wilbur Post
: What do you think of Mr. Addison's condition, doctor? Mister Ed
: It looks like an acute hematosis of the left phibosis. Wilbur Post
: What do you think caused it? Mister Ed
: His condenser blew out. Wilbur Post
: What time should we operate? Would eight o'clock tonight be all right, doctor? Mister Ed
: No, I don't want to compete against my favorite show, Perry Mason. Wilbur Post
: How about tomorrow morning at 7:30? Mister Ed
: No, impossible. My makeup man doesn't get here until 8:00. Wilbur Post
: When do you want to operate? Mister Ed
: Never. Wilbur Post
: But Doctor Ed, you are the finest brain surgeon in the whole world. Mister Ed
: But to him, I'm just a fat old clown.
[in Mister Ed's dream, he and Wilbur are in a hospital recovery room
] Mister Ed
: I don't remember operating on this patient. Wilbur Post
: You didn't, doctor. I did. Mister Ed
: You? Wilbur Post
: I couldn't sleep last night, so I got up and took out Mr. Hogskins frontal aboda. Mister Ed
: Wait, the chart says that this patient is Mr. Femwick. He came here to have his tonciles removed. Wilbur Post
: So, THAT'S what he was trying to tell me! Mister Ed
: Why didn't you listen to him? Wilbur Post
: He couldn't talk and... well... I though he was just being chicken.
[in Mister Ed's dream, Wilbur and Carol are doctors in an O.R. who make romantic eye contact with each other and they prepare to operate on Addison
] Wilbur Post
: I love you, Carol. Tell me you'll marry me. Marry me now! Say you want to be my wife. I want to be with you right here and now! Carol Post
: What about the patient? Wilbur Post
: He already has a wife.
: Wilbur, how could you let the greatest opportunity you had in years pass you buy because of that stupid horse of yours? Wilbur Post
: Well... it's complicated. Try to put yourself in Ed's place. Carol Post
: I wish I could, I'd be better off!
: Wilbur, I'm not the type of wife who says "I told you so." Wilbur Post
: I know you aren't. How was I supposed to know things would not go as they should? Carol Post
: Because I told you so.
: Carol, at all costs, I'm not going to let Roger dress up Ed for some photography contest. Carol Post
: Why not? Wilbur Post
: Because I don't want Ed to look ridiculous. Carol Post
: You're the one that's being ridiculous! Wilbur Post
: Carol, I know you may not know this, but Ed comes from a very distinquished family. Carol Post
] I find that hard to belive. Wilbur Post
: It's true. I could never desecrate the son of a war hero. Carol Post
: War hero? Wilbur Post
: Ed lost his father at the Battle of San Juan Hill. He was the horse that Teddy Roosevelt was riding on during the charge up the hill. The horse that was shot out from under Teddy. Carol Post
: How can that be? That battle was in 1898, over 60 years ago. Ed's father wasn't even born then. Wilbur Post
: I know but...
[Wilbur's face suddenly lights up with suprise, and in seconds the suprised look turns into anger as he finally realizes that Mister Ed had lied to him
] Wilbur Post
] Carol, have you finished Ed's costume yet? Carol Post
: Just about. Wilbur Post
: Well, finish it! And get Roger on the phone... we are taking that picture of Ed! The sooner the better! Carol Post
: Oh Wilbur, thank you! I knew you'd come to your senses. I'll also talk to Kay and she can help me with the costume. Wilbur Post
: Good! I'll go and get Ed ready. Carol Post
: Say, what made you change your mind? Wilbur Post
: No horse is going to make a monkey out of me!
: I wanted to ask you something. After the wedding, should I call you Mr. Post, or just Wilbur? Wilbur Post
: I don't care what you call me. But I am not going to call you 'Mother'!
[Wilbur walks away and Penny stands dumbfounded
] Penny Hoblock
] Oh, that son of mine! Imagine him, thinking I'm going to marry you. Penny Hoblock
: I don't think it's funny. Angus Post
: Oh, I do! Penny Hoblock
: How could he make a mistake like that? Angus Post
: Wilbur's always been clumsy, and misdirected. I remember when he was 12, I first told him about the birds and the bees. He tried to put them together! The bird bit him and the bees stung him!
: Why don't we tell Wilbur the truth? Angus Post
: Oh no, if he's that stupid, and I regret to say that he is... he deserves to be taught a lesson. Penny Hoblock
: What kind of lesson? Angus Post
: Well... if he really thinks that I'm marrying you, a flirt and a gold digger. The next time you see him, do a little flirting and a little gold digging. Penny Hoblock
: Oh no, I couldn't do a thing like that. Angus Post
: Sure you can. There's nothing better then us Posts having a good laugh... at the expence of one of our own.
: It's a strike all right, Wilbur. I'm pulling out every horse from under you. Wilbur Post
: Just because I'm wearing a horse outfit to a costume party? Mister Ed
: You make fun of horses, and all you'll be riding is a pogo stick. Wilbur Post
: Ed, if you don't call off this ridiculous strike, I'll trade you in for a rocking chair! Mister Ed
] You're going to look real silly trying to ride that on a bridle path.
: You insist on continuing this strike? Mister Ed
: You insist on wearing that horse outfit? Wilbur Post
[after a long pause
] Mister Ed
: I am willing to submit this to the labor relations board. Wilbur Post
: Well, I am not. And there's only one way to handle a disobedient horse like you. I'm sending you to an animal training school! Mister Ed
: Fine! Do with me what you want, Wilbur. Just remember this. If I fall, there will be another horse to pick up the torch and carry on the fight for the preservation of horsely dignity. I thank you.
: You're some horse. You'll talk to people over the phone. You'll talk to people from behind closed doors, from behind walls, bushes. But why is it that you will not talk in front of anyone but me? Mister Ed
: How should I know? As your wife and neighbors say, I'm just a dumb animal. Wilbur Post
: Of all the millions of horses in this world, I end up with the one that talks.
: Wilbur, would you do me a favor? Wilbur Post
: Sure, what is it? Roger Addison
: Will you let me borrow your horse this weekend for State University's Homecoming football game? Wilbur Post
: I doubt they'll accept him. He never graduated from high school. Roger Addison
: I'm serious. I went today to visit the boys at Sigma Nu Delta, my old fraternity. It seems that State U's rival college, Brighton University, stole their mascott, a palomino horse. So, I promised the boys that the could use your horse for this weekend's homecoming football game. What do you say? Wilbur Post
: Well, since you promised...
[Mister Ed shoves Wilbur from behind
] Wilbur Post
: You can't have him. Roger Addison
: Why, thank... I beg your pardon? Wilbur Post
: Maybe you should find another horse. Ed's very uncomfortable away from his home. Roger Addison
: But the university is only a 20 minute drive from here, and the boys will bring him back right after the game. Wilbur Post
: Well, since they'll bring him back...
[Mister Ed again shoves Wilbur from behind
] Wilbur Post
: You can't have him. Roger Addison
: Wilbur, I've already promised the boys that they could have your horse. You're putting me in a difficult position. Wilbur Post
: If that's the case...
[Mister Ed shoves Wilbur a final time
] Wilbur Post
: Then, you're in trouble.
: The Air Force thought my husband was smarter then yours. That's why they made Wilbur a lieutenant and the Colonel... well a colonel. Carol Post
: I don't want to say that Gordon's career was helped, but I understand your father was a three-star general. Winnie Kirkwood
: So what? My husband came right up through the ranks. Wilbur Post
: From private to colonel in only three months? Gordon Kirkwood
: It was four months.
: Gordon, why are we fighting? This whole thing as been a misunderstanding. Gordon Kirkwood
: Well, you still haven't told me what happened at that examination as to why you were declared mentaly incopetent. Wilbur Post
: All right... I'll level with you. I had some old wigs and prop hats left over from a masqurade party. What happened was Ed somehow put them on... Gordon Kirkwood
] I knew it! That horse again. Wilbur, if I told you this I've told you a hundred times, that horse of yours is a trouble maker! He has caused you and all of us enough trouble around here. I'm warning you... sell that old plug or forget me as a friend! Wilbur Post
: Gordon, please! Don't ask me to sell Ed. Would I ask you to get rid of Winnie? Gordon Kirkwood
] Huh? Carol Post
: What Wilbur is trying to say is that his horse is just as important as his wife.
] Carol Post
: Is that what you're trying to say? Wilbur Post
: Yes. I mean... no! I... uh...
[Carol angrily exits
] Gordon Kirkwood
: Come on, Winnie. Let's get out of here. Maybe I can find someone else to buy and fly that plane with me and not this loony bird who's so attached to his dumb horse! Winnie Kirkwood
: [to Wilbur
] A horse may be a man's best friend. But remember, a wife is a relative.
: Carol, I take it that you don't like your new present? Carol Post
: Wilbur, I like listening to music the same as you do. But that stereo isn't a personal gift. It's more of a house gift. Wilbur Post
: Well, if you don't want it, just say that you don't want it. That's all you have to say. If you don't want it just say "sweetheart, I don't want it." No, that's all that... Carol Post
: [cutting him off; rude tone
] Sweetheart, I don't want it! Wilbur Post
: [caught off-guard
] Uh... see? That wasn't so hard.
: Wilbur, is it true? Did Carol really leave you? Wilbur Post
: Yep. She left this morning to go home to her father just because of the stereo I bought. Mister Ed
: If it makes you feel any better, I learned how to sew. Wilbur Post
: Thanks Ed, but you could never take Carol's place. Mister Ed
: Why not? I'm more loveable. Wilbur Post
: Ed, a wife is a wife and a horse is a horse. Mister Ed
: Well, have you ever heard of someone say "my kingdom for a wife"? Wilbur Post
: The Duke of Windsor.
[Mister Ed is snickering
] Wilbur Post
: What's so funny? Mister Ed
: I heard about your little ketchup caper this afternoon. Wilbur Post
: Where did you hear that? Mister Ed
: I just happened to stroll by Addison's window and he was telling his wife all about it. Wilbur Post
: What did he say about me? Mister Ed
: Sorry, Wilbur. I may talk, but I really don't like using that kind of language.
: How did you like Kay in leotards? Roger Addison
: She looks like a plucked chicken trying to wriggle off a butcher hook. Carol Post
] I'll tell her what you said. Wilbur Post
: You had your lunch? Roger Addison
: No. Why? Wilbur Post
: I think you just lost your dinner. Roger Addison
: Well, the way Kay cooks, my loss is my stomache's gain.
: [referring to Robin Hood
] He used to steal from the rich, and you know why? Mister Ed
: Because the poor didn't have any money.
] Wilbur Post
: Ed, what do you supposed made us do all that? Mister Ed
: I don't know, Wilbur. There are a lot of things in this world that can't be explained. Wilbur Post
: Well, what do you do about it? Mister Ed
: Nothing. Just enjoy it.
[cut to the surface of Mars with a hung-over Moko having an ice bag on his head, under the watchful eyes of Tatti
: I know I did!
: [placing telephone away from Ed
] You phoned the feed store, again, didn't you, Ed? I thought I told you that I was the one to give the orders around here. Ya know, that's the fourth load of hay we've had delivered this week. Mister Ed
: [talking while chewing mouthful of hay
] Well, I'm hungry. Wilbur Post
: How come other horses don't eat as much as you do? Mister Ed
: 'Cause they can't phone the feed store.
: Wilbur, why don't we write a letter to Dear Abby? She could give us advice on what I should do. Wilbur Post
: Okay, we'll write Dear Abby. How's this? "Dear Abby, my horse told me that he wants to leave home and have his own swinging bachelor apartment. Do you think he's right? Signed, Butterfly Net." Because that's exactly what they'll throw over me. Mister Ed
: You don't have to say your horse told you. Tell her it was your cat.
: Wilbur, there's a scrach on the door of my new car, which maches the size of your belt buckle. Wilbur Post
: Gordon, it was an accident. Here, let me pay for it. How much do you need to get it fixed? Five, 10, 15? Gordon Kirkwood
: Forget it, Wilbur. We're friends. Neighbors. We shouldn't fight. Wilbur Post
: Thanks, Gordon. Gordon Kirkwood
: We'll let our lawyers fight!
: Ed, I've come to a decision. Having Sam living with us is causing nothing but trouble. I'm sorry, but I think it's about time you should ask Sam to leave. Mister Ed
: You're too late. Sam's already gone. He just left to go back to the carnival. Wilbur Post
: Why. Mister Ed
: He said that he would rather be laughed at and made fun of then scared to death. Wilbur Post
: Scared? What would scare him? Mister Ed
: You, puching air matresses over him. Me, commanding model airplanes to buzz around and over his head. This whole neighborhood with the cars and traffic. He felt that the carnival is his home. Wilbur Post
: Well... good. At least he feels better living there then here. Mister Ed
: He didn't say "better". He said it was "safer".
: There goes my nap! As soon as I start to relax, my wife finds me something to do. Mister Ed
: That's why you'll never see a horse wearing a wedding ring...
: What's been happening to you? I haven't seen you for so many years. You married? Karl Dickenson
: To the most gorgeous little girl you ever wanted to see. Two years ago she was Miss Alabama. How about you? Married? Wilbur Post
: To the most gorgeous girl you'll ever see. Two years ago she was Miss Higgins.
: Do you two girls still want to go to the carnival tonight? Carol Post
: We asked Gordon to take us, but he said he was going to be too busy around the house. Winnie Kirkwood
: The Colonel used to adore carnivals. You know, he proposed to me in The Tunnel Of Love. Carol Post
: No kidding? Well, you'd think he'd be glad to go back, if only for sentimental reasons. Wilbur Post
: Maybe he doesn't want to return to the scene of the crime.
: If you were in the desert with Mister Ed and me, and there was enough water for two of us, who would get the water? Wilbur Post
: You and Ed, of course. Carol Post
: If there was just enough water for one of us, who would get it? Wilbur Post
: Well, uh... Carol Post
: Why is it taking you so long to answer? Wilbur Post
: You, you'd get the water. Carol Post
: Well, that's better. Wilbur Post
: Unless you'd care to give yours to Ed, I mean, I gave my water to you. Carol Post
: You'd give all of the water to Mister Ed. Wilbur Post
: Don't be ridiculous. I'd have only one choice, of course. Carol Post
: Of course, who? Wilbur Post
: Who? Carol Post
: While you're choosing between us, I could be fainting on that desert. Wilbur Post
: So could Ed, and he'd be a lot heavier to drag back into town.
: [addressing a policeman, while standing next to Ed's smashed up horse trailer
] Did you see this accident? Miguel
: No, Señor. Wilbur Post
: Didn't you see anything? Miguel
: If I see, I say. I don't see, I don't say. Kay Addison
: You don't say. Miguel
: Si. I say I don't see.
: [about the fact that Ed has caused Wilbur a lot of trouble for a sneaky trick he played on his wife and neighbors, so he could have his birthday party
] Don't be sore at me, Wilbur. I'm only a nine year old kid. Wilbur Post
: Well, nine years old in a horse is equal to sixty in a human being. Mister Ed
: Then stop yelling at an old man.
: A million dumb animals in the world - I gotta get the blabbermouth.
: Well! At least we went behind your backs behind your backs! You went behind our backs right under our noses! Wilbur Post
: Carol, if you're going to yell at me, the least you can do is keep your voice down.
: Just think, tomorrow's Ed's first day on the job. Life's funny, you know. You get a young horse like Ed, you coddle him, you play with him, you spoil him a little bit, you hope he doesn't grow up. First thing you know, he's punching a timeclock. Carol Post
] It's tough. Wilbur Post
: Good for him, though. Work's good, builds character. I would't want him difting through life like Kay's brother. A horse has got to learn to stand on his own four feet. Carol Post
: It's late, go to sleep honey. Wilbur Post
: I think I'll make him a nice lunch tomorrow. Something that'll give him energy. What should I make for him, Carol? Carol Post
: [more sarcastic
] How about a triple-decker hay sandwich?
: Aren't you excited about carrying a descendent of General Custer's parrot? Mister Ed
: No. Indian horse never carry green chicken that talk like men. Wilbur Post
: Indian horse? Are you kidding? Mister Ed
: Nope. Me Cherokee Ed. My Momma done told me. Wilbur Post
: How can you be an Indian? You're a blonde. Mister Ed
: Under blonde skin - me redskin.
: Ed, I haven't got time to play games. Mr. Banning wants to go for a ride. Mister Ed
: Tell him to throw a saddle over a taxi. Wilbur Post
: He is not that heavy. Mister Ed
: Oh, no? He's got fat in places where you're not even supposed to have places. Wilbur Post
: Ed, you're exaggerating. Mister Ed
: Oh, yeah? If you put us both on a seesaw, my feet would never touch the ground.
: [to Carol's father, about how proud he is of being married to Carol
] I'm so glad you had a daughter, instead of a son, or else, we'd all be sitting around as perfect strangers.
: You're wasting time. You can't tell anything by sniffing that glove. Mister Ed
: Oh, no? Look at my face, Wilbur. It's all nose.