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Dagwood Bumstead: Maybe I'll be sent to one of those prisons that has a tennis court... Blondie!

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[last lines]

Julius Dithers: Hm, you don't catch me trapped at a wedding on a beautiful Thurday afternoon.

Cora Dithers: Of course not, Julius. Because we're renewing our vows on a Friday afternoon.

Julius Dithers: What?

Cora Dithers: [clutching Julius's ear, then taking him away] Next Friday afternoon! Come on!

Julius Dithers: Ooh, ee! Y-yes dear, what a wonderful idea!

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Dagwood Bumstead: I'm gonna have to take the rest of the day off, Mr. Dithers.

Julius Dithers: Take the rest of the what *where*?

Dagwood Bumstead: I can't let Blondie down.

Julius Dithers: Let her down? I'd always try to get the old battle-axe something that'll just shut her up. Yick.

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Julius Dithers: Bumstead, you're - ! Wha-?

[Cora grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and holds him aloft]

Cora Dithers: [growling] He's what, Julius?

Julius Dithers: Such a romantic boy, don't you think, Cora? Isn't this whole wedding business - wwwonderful?

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Julius Dithers: Like I said: there'll be a big, fat, juicy bonus in it for you.

Dagwood Bumstead: Bonus? For me? Gosh, Blondie'll be so proud! And just in time for our...

[gasps and babbles in bewilderment, at the deadline for the Fergueson building to be completed]

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Julius Dithers: Bumstead, I know that wedding's been on your mind a lot, but... icing swirls on the tenth floor?

Dagwood Bumstead: Well, they...

[a truck horn interrupts them, and they soon walk toward it]

Julius Dithers: What now, a truck full of doilies?

Blondie Bumstead: [in the truck, with Cora at the wheel] Hi, honey!

Dagwood Bumstead: Huh?

Julius Dithers: Oh, great. A truck full of Blondie.

Blondie Bumstead: [getting out of the truck, then pulling a lever to reveal an inflating cathedral] Cora told me you wouldn't make it to the church on time, so - we brought the church to you!

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Alexander Bumstead: [he and Cookie emerge from upstairs] What was that crash?

Cookie Bumstead: Probably that dweeb, Willard.

Alexander Bumstead: Not exactly, sis. It's Dad.

[they giggle]

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Julius Dithers: Bumstead, I know that's the first bonus you've gotten in 18 years, but grab hold of yourself, man.

Dagwood Bumstead: I can't, Mr. Dithers. Today is my 20th anniversary.

Julius Dithers: So what? Anniversaries are like headaches. Ignore 'em long enough, they'll blow away.

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Dagwood Bumstead: [after he unknowingly loses his ring, alerted by Daisy] Daisy, get back here. This is no time for doggie gymnastics.

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Julius Dithers: [as the cathedral inflates] Bumstead, what's going on? Your first obligation is to Fergueson!

Dagwood Bumstead: Wrong, Mr. Dithers. My first obligation is to my bride, my wife - you know, Blondie.

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Dagwood Bumstead: [carrying a tall stacks of gifts] Great, no one's home. I'll just put these gifts away and...

[we hear a car beep outside]

Dagwood Bumstead: Oh no! It's Blondie!

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Dagwood Bumstead: [after a rivet shoots into his pants] Well, fortunately, Daisy, you'll never know what it's like to have a hot rivet up your pants. Eh, girl?

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Dagwood Bumstead: [popping up from the gifts that fell out of the closet] Surprise! Happy anniversary, honey.

Blondie Bumstead: [rising] Surprise? But our anniversary isn't till next week.

Dagwood Bumstead: Oh. Yeah, I knew that.

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Jewelry Store Clerk: Will that be cash, check, or...?

Dagwood Bumstead: [handing the clerk his credit card] Charge it. Thanks to that big, fat bonus, I'll be able to pay for it in full next pay day.

Jewelry Store Clerk: Yes, sir.

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Julius Dithers: [first lines; on the phone] Rest assured, Mr. Fergueson. The J. C. Dithers Company has been on the job for fourteen months, and we'll have your building renovation finished in no time at all.

Mr. Fergueson: Good. Because that's exactly when I want it, Dithers. In no time at all!

[bangs his fist on his desk]

Julius Dithers: Well, if-if ever in that case, I'll oversee the completion of this project myeslf.

Mr. Fergueson: You can't fool me, you old windbag! I know Bumstead does all the work.

Julius Dithers: [shaking his fist and growling] Why, you...

Mr. Fergueson: And don't shake your fist at me! Just make that deadline, and there'll be a nice fat bonus in it for you *and* Bumstead.

[hangs up]

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Dagwood Bumstead: [to the sandwich vendor] Give me a ham and cheese, onion, pastrami, turkey, bacon, Swiss, and mackerel sandwich, would ya? Oh, and uh, hold the pickle.

[turning to Daisy]

Dagwood Bumstead: Gotta watch the old waistline, ya know?

[the vendor gives him his sandwich]

Dagwood Bumstead: Ah, that's better.

[walking away]

Dagwood Bumstead: C'mon, girl, let's get to work.

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Dagwood Bumstead: [carrying a tower of presents home] When you can't find that something special, go for bulk.

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Dagwood Bumstead: [on his walkie-talkie] Alexander, are you with me?

Alexander Bumstead: [at his computer, with headphones and mike] Right here, Dad.

Dagwood Bumstead: All right, now pay attention, son. My men say we can probably meet this deadline but *only* if we get these supplies in soon.

Alexander Bumstead: Fire away!

Dagwood Bumstead: Three thousand counterflange bolts, five hundred truckloads of quickset cement, one hundred thirty tons of alloy support girders...

Alexander Bumstead: Consider them on their way, Pop!

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