Alfred Hitchcock Presents s04e13 Episode Script

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
In the television business, it's extremely difficult to keep both feet on the ground.
I'd be happy if I had just one foot down there.
If you think this is easy, you should see me trying to get through a doorway.
And yesterday, I accidentally stepped through a window.
If my arm hadn't caught in the sash, I might still be going.
And that's not all.
Twice I've been mistaken for a dirigible.
They keep trying to deflate me.
I'm certain by now you have guessed that tonight's play is about gravity and people who resist the Earth's pull.
You are wrong.
It's about an undertaker and one of the persons he undertakes.
And it begins in just a moment.
That you, Arthur? Be five, six minutes.
Leg of lamb.
Boy, oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.
Those Hollywood dames, just kills me.
Six, seven husbands before they're 30.
What are you doing? What does it look like? How many did you have before you got home? A man takes one drink Who are you kidding? You smell like a distillery.
Maybe if you knew what happened to me today, you wouldn't begrudge me.
I don't even think that I should tell you.
The lamb's ready.
Rhoda, I got a terrible problem! Maybe it was all those extra slugs.
Slug, not slugs.
I'm telling you, this is a crisis.
Why don't you wash up here and save time? The movie goes on at 7:10 and I like to be there for the beginning.
I'm not hungry.
If you'd had told me that in time, I could've saved three hours in the kitchen.
Far as I'm personally concerned, delicatessen suits me soon as lamb.
Rhoda.
How about tomorrow you cook a leg of lamb, and I'll get crocked and not eat? You're not listening! All right, I'm listening.
So what's the big crisis? You see this? Oh, no.
The whole thing.
It's impossible.
Stanton C.
Barryvale.
The department store? If you'd read anything but those gossip columns, you'd know that he died last night.
Arthur, maybe you'd better begin at the beginning? All right, I will.
Only no interruptions.
Because this thing is too complicated to complicate further.
Who's interrupting? I got to the office this morning as usual, about 9:00.
I didn't know whose car it was, but I did know it meant business: Big business: Morning.
Someone to see me? Since quarter of.
Hmm.
Motherwell? Yes.
Fulton Agnew of Agnew and Agnew.
Oh.
The law firm.
Reason I stopped by, I felt a phone call wouldn't tell me enough.
About what, sir? Character of the place.
Oh, well, the same as it's been these last 23 years, sir.
Exactly what interested me.
You see, we represent the late Stanton C.
Barryvale.
He was a fine man, sir.
An important man, Motherwell.
To be perfectly frank, most of the heirs took it for granted that Schwabacher would handle the funeral.
But Mrs.
Barryvale asked me to look into some of the older parlors.
She thought her husband might have preferred it that way.
I did go to school with him, sir.
Through sixth grade.
And it would be a real honor Do you think you can handle it? Certainly.
I mean, prestige-wise.
The size of an operation is one thing, taste can be quite another.
You can depend upon it, sir.
I run a very personal business.
In that case, I'll relay my recommendation to the family.
And please, include my condolences.
You can expect to hear from me by noon.
Good morning.
Nothing new, eh? No.
Oh, just Mrs.
Sotarsky.
Were you expecting anyone else, sir? No, but I am now.
Just had a very encouraging meeting with Stanton C.
Barryvale's attorney.
Do you mean there's a chance I might get to work on Mr.
Barryvale? Keeping my fingers crossed.
He was one of Poughkeepsie's most distinguished citizens.
Sir.
You know, things seem to be looking up around here, so I thought this might be a good time to discuss my own situation again.
I have high hopes for you, Thor, high hopes.
Do you mean that, sir? Soon as you quit calling me "sir.
" Bad habit to get into, bad for the profession.
We're not flunkies, my boy.
It's an essential service we perform and don't you forget it.
You know, it's just like I told my old lady last night.
How'd it be, I asked her, if nobody went into this game? What'd she say? You know mothers.
Makes her nervous, the kind of work I'm doing.
You have a real future.
Can I tell her that, sir? About the future? About my getting a piece of the business, like you promised me? When was that? When I started.
Five years ago, come next month, remember? You said if I could stick it out long enough to learn the trade, there was a piece of the business in it for me.
Well, if I said it, I'll live with it.
But it certainly doesn't sound like anything I'd normally promise.
Well, our situation wasn't normal.
You couldn't get any help.
Yes, well.
Well, we'll see about it.
When? Before the week's out, I'll have a lawyer draw up a memorandum of agreement.
Which lawyer? I don't know.
Perhaps Perhaps even Agnew of Agnew and Agnew.
Is that good enough for you? Plenty good enough.
But remember, weekend's on Saturday, Mr.
Motherwell.
All right.
Bring it right in here.
That's right.
Right over there.
I thought you'd never get here.
You held up my whole lunch.
Easy, easy.
Did you get him started, yet? No.
They just this second left.
Oh, that's him, all right.
Sure is and about time.
I waited right through my lunch hour.
Then take it now.
I'll get him started.
Ordinarily I wouldn't care.
About lunch, that is.
But I slammed out with no breakfast Take a full hour.
No, I'll just grab a bite at the drugstore.
Before you go, better ring the musician's local.
Put a hold on their best string quartet.
Hey, sounds like Stanton Barryvale's really going out in style.
Naturally.
Hello? Speaking.
Oh, yes, Mr.
Agnew.
Just a few minutes ago.
Fine.
Now, I've a detailed list of instructions for you.
My girl will send you a carbon by messenger.
But I just want to alert you on the major items.
Thirty limousines.
A string quartet to back up the choir.
Right.
Minimum of 300 guests.
Organist, canopy and chairs.
Yes, of course we can handle the memorial reception.
Yes, Mr.
Agnew.
And I'm sure you'll be very pleased.
Boy, oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.
And how does that thing go? Sounds like somebody clearing his throat.
Precisely.
What are you saying, Arthur? I'm saying that Stanton C.
Barryvale was sitting up looking terrible sick.
Why wouldn't he if he was dead? Arthur, are you telling the truth? Of course I'm telling you the truth.
In 23 years, it's happened to me twice only.
The first time, you remember, was that Winkleman boy.
He came to in the shop and he's still around, I believe.
Since 1935.
He's still around.
And a very mean job he turned out.
But I don't see the crisis.
Unless Barryvale's still around? Please.
No interruptions, remember? Let me finish.
Now, you can understand that this sort of thing doesn't happen every day in the week.
So, when Stanton C.
Barryvale sat up and asked me Who are you? Well, I'm Arthur Motherwell.
Who'd you expect? I'll ask the questions.
Or don't you know whom you're addressing? Why, yes, sir.
You're Stanton C.
Barryvale and you run the finest department store in Poughkeepsie and it's a pleasure to talk to you, sir.
Only Only what? Only Well Nothing.
Come off it, man.
Why the devil are you converging on me with all those weapons? Weapons? Oh, no, no, no.
No weapons, sir.
Just the tools of the trade, so to speak.
What trade? Well, speak up, man.
I'm accustomed to a direct answer.
Embalming, sir.
You see, I run this parlor.
Oh.
That Motherwell.
One and the same, sir.
And the fact is, sir, you Well, like I say, you died last night.
Huh? I knew it must be something like that.
I feel light as a feather.
Yes, sir.
Peculiar sensation.
And cold, too.
I must have a temperature of below zero.
Just you relax, sir, and I'll get Summit General Hospital on the phone.
No, no, don't do that.
It'll just cause talk.
And I'm going out again in a minute anyway.
Maybe a couple of pick-up pills? Too late for that, Motherwell.
Never push goods on people that they can't use.
Secret of the department store business.
But what they can use, load them up to the gills.
Good psychology.
It's a big thought.
What was it? What was it? "It," sir? The thing that made me come back.
While you were talking a minute ago, I almost had it.
And then it went away.
While I was talking? Of course, it's you! You're why I came back.
Maybe you should reconsider that pill, sir.
My funeral was never settled.
Or perhaps a sip of brandy? I remember now.
I never arranged the details of my funeral.
Not uncommon, sir.
Most folks leave that sort of thing to their, if you'll pardon the expression, their heirs.
At a moment like this, my wife and kids feel bad.
They're bound to spend more than is necessary and what's the sense to that? Yes, I see your point, Mr.
Barryvale.
I don't want the estate to be drained of a solitary nickel that's unnecessary.
Too many important things, investments, foundations.
Don't you see it, Motherwell? That's what revived me.
Whatever it was, it certainly shows a strong will.
Some kind of leftover power in my brain brought me back.
But what can you do about it? Mr.
Agnew is the executor.
Mr.
Agnew is a horse's backside.
Are you sure you won't join me in a drink, Mr.
Barryvale? I have some good Stop diverting me.
All I want from you is a pen and paper.
Get them.
Now what's the cheapest way you can do it? And I mean rock bottom.
Well, it all depends on number of people, cars, music or not, type of casket, et cetera.
That's what I figured.
Big leeway there.
And I was fool enough to let Agnew draw up that blasted will to read, "After all funeral expenses have been paid, blah, blah, blah.
" Well, we'll take care of it, Motherwell.
Give me that paper.
I'll specify cheapest funeral possible.
"Six people, no music, "one car and an unpainted pine box.
" The pine market still low? Very.
You have any trouble, you show them this.
Can I use the phone? No.
Just give me your word, as a gentleman, you'll handle it my way.
But this paper's no good, sir.
You're legally dead as of 10:53 p.
m.
Last night.
That's why I'm dating it the day before yesterday, and it's in my handwriting, no mistake about that.
What's the time now? Well, let's make it September 5th, 1958.
And now, I'll sign it.
Thank you, Motherwell.
And it was nice talking to you.
Six people, no music.
I caught the messenger service guy out front, Mr.
Motherwell.
Good.
That must be the confirmation of Mr.
Agnew's order.
I bet it calls for 100 guests.
Minimum of 300.
You don't say! Do you mind if I read it? I mean, since I'm almost a member of the firm.
Oh, sure.
Go ahead and open it.
"Limousines, 30.
" Hey, that's 3-0! "Floral arrangement, pre-preponderance of white orchids "and American beauties.
Use your discretion.
Price no object.
" You all right, Mr.
Motherwell? Of course, I am.
You don't look too good.
Everything go all right in there? I didn't have a chance to get started.
But why shouldn't it? I've only been laying people out for the last 23 years.
No offense, sir.
You just don't look too good and I thought I'm fine.
Good.
Hey, good thing I contacted the musicians' local.
They do want a string quartet.
You just put a hold on it, didn't you? Yeah.
But now we can make it an order, right? What's that? An order, the music.
Now, that it's official.
You want me to call them? I'll be very happy to call them.
No, I'll take care of that.
You just handle Oh, yeah.
Sure thing.
So you didn't tell him? Tell him what? That the big funeral was out.
I didn't tell him because I didn't have the heart.
After all, that kid's been building his hopes for years.
What about the florist? And the musicians' union? And the car rental.
Oh, I'll phone them in the morning.
I mean, those fellows, they don't require too much notice one way or the other.
Well, just one of those things.
You can say that again.
But, like you said, there's no doubt about what's the right thing to do.
Picture goes on in 15 minutes.
That's right.
Well, there's only one thing to do.
Careful, darling.
You'll burn your hands.
I won't, dear.
It's not like he couldn't afford it.
Anyways, why cheat family and friends from paying proper respect? Crossed my mind, too.
What's more, he had no right to do what he did.
None whatsoever.
A man legally dead, after all.
Do you know where we're gonna sit tonight? Loges.
That's right.
Costly but smoking.
That, I'm certain, is the only example we have of a man dying posthumously.
Mr.
Barryvale's funeral turned out to be a very gala occasion.
Especially for Mr.
Motherwell.
It produced quite a business boom for him.
You see, someone accidentally put embalming fluid in the coffee that was served.
But so much for life's lighter side.
I hope you rejoin me after this next number.
Personally, I think I shall sit it out.
That was short and sweet.
Toot sweet.
Well, that's a hopeful sign.
Next week I shall return with another story.
Perhaps by then I shall have settled down.
Good night.