Custody of the Pumpkin Blandings

ENGINE SPLUTTERS

Oh, no!

BELL RINGS

-Beach?

-My Lady?

Frederick?!

FREDERICK STUTTERS AND STAMMERS

CONSTANCE CLEARS HER THROAT

FREDERICK WHIMPERS

Aunt, please, I have a bit of a head.

God knows, you don't have to tell me that!

If you wish to retain what little you have left of it,

explain the truncated trousers.

Yeah. Well, I thought, I might run faster.

Than what?

Than I would if my trousers were the usual length.

It was a wager, you see.

-Oh!

-Catsmeat ordered this great jug of Rigor Mortis, and I...

-Drank it all.

-No, no, no! Not all of it!

Good grief! Most of it. Oh.

I shouldn't wish you to think that I'm neglecting you.

But out of season, there is still combat to be had with Stinker!

So, please...please excuse me.

Clarence!

I can stand it no longer!

Freddie must be married!

There is no other lawful way to dispose of him!

I have selected Felicity Parsloe-Parsloe.

And I have rung Sir Gregory to discuss the matter...

It's like a pantomime!

I mention the word Parsloe, and he vanishes!

Hey! Why the long face?

Oh, is it?

Oh, no, no, I couldn't... possibly bore you with all that.

Bet you could if you tried?

Well, it was a fairly orthodox knees-up at the Pink Pussy.

Cocktails were ingested.

Oofy bet me 50 quid I couldn't do the 100-yard dash

-in under 12 seconds.

-And you couldn't?

Not with a duck-billed platypus jammed down my trousers, no.

That was an intrinsic part of the wager. The platypus.

I thought I could do it by streamlining the leggings,

but two seconds into the race, the ruddy beak came off.

-Which was pretty disconcerting.

-Not least for the platypus!

Oh, no, he was stuffed. As am I.

Ah, Guv'nor. This is, erm...

Niagara Donaldson. I generally answer to Aggie.

No, no, no good, can't get that at all.

Niagara. Like the big waterfall.

Heavens! That must have caused raised eyebrows around the font.

-My father's American.

-Well, somebody has to be.

This is all very stimulating, but I fear I have other business.

Please forgive me.

Stuffed?

Oh, yes...Oofy's after me for 150 quid.

Harvest festival, McAllister!

Ah...

Is she bigger than Sir Gregory's, do you think?

Sir Grigory's gourd'll be a mickle sproogy bairn compared to hir.

I named hir Desdemona.

Yer dinnae thunk the name improper?

Good Lord, no! Hah!

I just met a charming young woman, named after a natural wonder.

Cheops... No, that was man-made. Erm...

-Niagara?

-No, no, something more exotic. Stromboli.

Hello, everyone!

-My, that pumpkin! She's really bonny.

-Isn't she?

Guaranteed to kick Stinker into a cocked hat, wouldn't you say?

I would.

I'll counsel ye nae to be over-familiar wi' his Lordshup, hen.

And beware the bairn-faced loon.

So, you are enjoying the university, Miss Parsloe-Parsloe?

Yup.

Fascinating.

Felicity, lovely gardens here at Blandings.

Why not take a squint?

Yup.

CLOCK CHIMES

-Charming girl.

-Can we not beat about the bush?

You reckon there's a match to be made. Your nephew, my niece.

-Mm-hm.

-Fact is, Constance, your nephew couldn't find his backside

with an illustrated guidebook!

Your niece is unusual.

Damned attractive.

To other unusual girls, possibly.

CONSTANCE SIGHS

I'll put up with yours, Sir Gregory, if you'll put up with mine.

In that case, I have terms.

-Name them.

-Emsworth!

This silly rivalry he insists on perpetuating!

Pigs. Pumpkins. It's got to stop.

I wish to enter such competitions unchallenged by your brother.

Harvest Festival and so on.

I want to win!

I shall leave Felicity here for the rest of the day.

Yes, please do.

I'm sure all this can be arranged to our mutual satisfaction,

without difficulty.

Good afternoon.

No difficulty at all.

LAUGHTER

Beach! You didn't see me!

Very good, sir.

Beach, did you see Mr Frederick? No.

Because he told you that you didn't.

Did he remember to tell you that you also didn't see

the young woman that he was dragging by the hand?

No. So you are at liberty to tell me about her.

Who is she?

She is Miss Niagara Donaldson, your Ladyship.

Donaldson? Doesn't sound terribly encouraging.

Define Miss Donaldson.

Her uncle is the gardener, McAllister, my Lady.

-Bring me Lord Emsworth.

-Yes, your Ladyship.

-Then bring me McAllister.

-Yes, your Ladyship.

GREGORY SHOUTS, SURPRISED

Can I assist ye, Sir Grigory?

-McAllister, is it not?

-Aye...

You know... McAllister,

you should consider coming to work for me.

You might find me more... appreciative.

Let me give you my number. Let's see... Ah, yes.

So.

You've writ it on a five-poon note.

Really? Oh, yes.

Better hang on to it, then.

Freddie might well propose to her!

God knows, he'd propose to a cushion if it had tassels on it

and succumbed to his vacuous conversation!

If McAllister is her uncle, imagine her father!

Do you really want him sitting next to you at dinner,

breathing on your cheese, trifling with your cigars

-and gargling your brandy?

-Oh...

I shall explain this one last time.

I have identified a highly appropriate girl for Freddie.

Her name is Felicity Par...

Felicity.

Felicity Felicity?!

She has acquired at the university

a very interesting personal style...

As long as she doesn't dress like a man and smoke a pipe.

KNOCK AT DOOR

-McAllister, my Lord.

-Remember you are an Emsworth!

Ah, McAllister, there you are! Jolly good!

Her Ladyship...

erm...feels...

I struggle to describe quite how her Ladyship feels.

-Lovely morning.

-Yup.

There is really no gentlemanly way to say this,

so I shall just have to say it.

Everglades.

I know that is not quite correct, but you know of whom I speak.

-Niagara?

-Precisely.

McAllister. It has to stop.

What has to stop, my Lord?

-The friendship with my son, Frederick.

-WHAT?!

You did not know?

Oh, my dear fellow, Frederick and Miss Great Lakes.

They're sweethearts.

Yon clockwork cretin shall nay lay his fickle finger

upon the fragrant person o' ma niece.

I take your point of view.

But the fact is, McAllister, Miss Grand Canyon's visit to Blandings

probably has to be curtailed.

She's no' visiting - she's ma tenant.

-I thought she was your niece?

-She's ma niece AND ma tenant!

She pays me twa poon a week.

Twa poon? Oh, does she? Good heavens!

What if I were to offer you, erm, three poon?

By which I obviously mean four poon.

-It is nae the remuneration, my Lord. It is the prunciple.

-Oh!

I warn ye, if there's any further attempt

to remove Niagara from my dwelling, I shall resign ma post!

My dear fellow, you clearly can't do that. No. Consider Desdemona.

Yae consider her!

Moreover, if I find yir poonstrick son canoodling with ma niece...

I shall suspend him fae rafters like a flutch o' bacon.

Oh!

Who is Desdemona?!

Oh, Connie, do you never pay attention to the names that matter?

She is my PUMPKIN!

Directly after my interview with McAllister,

I went to the greenhouse to inspect her, and her skin was wrinkling.

CONNIE GROANS

It's like the terrible climax of Ryder Haggard's She in there!

Can you not see that alliance with this Niagara Donaldson

-besmirches the honour of the Emsworths?

-Oh!

If you are ever to exert even the slightest authority

over this family, you must assist me with Felicity Parsloe-Parsloe!

-For a minute there, I thought you said...

-Yes, I did.

In a moment you'll have forgotten, so it is of no consequence.

A hallmark, I find, of our general conversation.

Felicity.

Pretty name.

I say, old boy, you haven't seen a corking little redhead

-about the place, have you?

-Nope.

Threepwood, F.

Parsloe-Parsloe, F.

Oh! Ha!

-Oh!

-You met Felicity.

-Good.

-Erm...

-Be quiet!

-Oh.

All undergraduates are the same.

They wear extraordinary clothes and try to unsettle people.

She'll grow out of it once she's married.

-To you.

-Gah!

You shall consent to this union, Freddie!

Would you not die in battle for the honour of the Emsworths?

Yes. I would.

Infinitely preferable to a life of sharing the marital toothbrush

with a girl called Parsloe-Parsloe!

Don't talk rot! Marriage is not about sharing anything.

It is about property and succession.

FREDDIE WHINES

Stop howling like an impaled baboon! Think about your duty!

Miss Parsloe-Parsloe, do you need a light for that pipe?

CONNIE CHUCKLES

-Glass of port, Mr Frederick?

-Er...

Lubricates the brain.

I mean, you've seen the girl, Beach!

She clearly cranks the starter with a motion

that's not factory-approved.

And I'm supposed to ask her to marry me!

Is Miss Donaldson aware of your intention to propose, sir?

No, no! Wrong girl!

Aunt C's putting the heavy roller on me to pop the question to...

Beach.

You're a ruddy genius!

Right question.

Wrong girl!

I might have known it!

Erm, hello, erm, Parsloe.

I'm taking a very strong line on the protection of my pumpkin, Emsworth.

Trespass again and you'll find yourself in custody.

-What? What?

-You've been warned!

Hasn't your sister bothered to speak to you?

-Of course she speaks to me!

-So, what do you say, man? Yes or no?

Erm... Yes... On the whole...

All right, then. Good.

All you need to do, Emsworth, as agreed with Connie,

is stop this ruddy nonsense. Eh? Lay down your arms.

CLARENCE MUTTERS

Lay down your pumpkin.

And as for your pig...

wrap her up with a bow and send her round.

PARSLOE CHUCKLES

Ah! Erm, Miss Donaldson.

We met but a few hours ago and we kissed once.

Twice.

Proportionally, that is a 50% increase in our intimacy.

Now, look...

would you mind awfully

anteloping with me?

-Is that a dance?

-Erm. There could be dancing.

Oh, you mean will I run away with you and get married?

OK!

Really?! This is fantastic!

Look, I'm pretty strapped for boodle.

Do you have a bit of cash for a couple of train tickets?

That's a slightly worrying question, Freddie, but, yes, I do.

Top! Meet you at the pigsty.

How romantic!

150%! Hurrah!

Woo-hoo!

My darkest fear, McAllister,

is that Parsloe's ruddy pumpkin is portlier than mine.

Gah! Yer should fear for yir son.

Truffling roond the dainty petticoats of ma niece. I warned ye!

Don't concern yourself with Frederick. He's getting married.

Yes, yes, all settled. To that girl. Peculiar name.

-Niagara?

-Very possibly.

And ye endorse this marriage?

I do, McAllister. My dear fellow, it's really no concern of yours.

Let us discuss fertilisers.

Lord Emsworth, the situation is untenable. I resign yir employ.

Angus. No, you can't.

What about the silky flesh of Desdemona?

You think on it, mun! Ach, I'm awa to pack ma bag.

No, no, no. Not Niagula. No. No.

Freddie's marrying the Parsloe girl.

But he can't do that. He can't do that!

Clarence?

Clarence? I... Whatever are you doing that for?

Always showing off. I suppose it's some sort of bet.

-Actually, it's quite simple. I...

-Calamitous news!

-What?

-McAllister has resigned. I am not quite sure how it happened.

I was... Good gracious.

-Hullo, Guv'nor.

-Now, listen to me, Frederick.

You are not to Parsloe Miss Marry.

Understood? Anybody but her.

Your aunt has a demented ambition to marry you off to some cushion.

Can I marry Miss Donaldson?

Yes. Absolutely. Whoever she is.

-Clarence!

-Stop squawking my name like some ruddy

-multicoloured...sits up here... mind your fingers.

-Parrot.

Thank you. Why are you doing upside down? Don't answer that, no time.

Moreover, did you or did you not have some

infernal agreement with Stinker about me giving him the Empress?

-I...

-I am too angry to listen and to hear you out.

I am going to my room.

-So am I.

-Well, I said it first, so yah boo sucks and no returnsies.

-Childish. So childish!

-Can't hear you. Can't hear you.

-You are a child.

-Can't hear you. Can't hear you.

I'm not chasing you. I'm not chasing you!

Oh...

Oh.

FRANTIC KNOCK ON DOOR

Beach.

I've blundered, terribly. I must speak to McAllister.

He left you this note, my Lord,

advising you of his new position.

Squeaky thing... Uncomfortable seat... Oil on the trouser cuffs.

Bicycle, my Lord?

Quick as you can!

Angus, how could you?

You! You're sacked. Get lost.

Now, McAllister....

..have a sticky willy.

Go on, have a large one.

BICYCLE APPROACHES

BELL RINGS

-Ah, Constable Piper.

-Reporting for duty, sir.

Through the bench, I have been able to secure young Piper

as the pumpkin's personal bodyguard.

HE SIGHS

Ah! Ah! Be a good fellow, will you, and cut me down?

Yup.

Oh, God.

Ah, um...Felicity.

Yup.

Do you ever say anything that isn't a monosyllable?

Occasionally.

Oh!

A little less of a sissy with a bit of colour in your cheeks.

My entire bloodstream has congregated in my head. But, look,

I thought you blew the flugelhorn from the speaking end?

Lord, no. Perfectly regular embouchure.

And I know how to work all the valves.

HE LAUGHS

When I come home, I drag up like this to ward off

all the ghastly bores my father wants me to marry.

-Well, I'll be...

-Careful what you wish for, matey.

Ticky, ticky, ticky!

HE LAUGHS

Oh, no. This is not what it looks like!

You wouldn't hit a chap in glasses, would you?

-Miss Niagara Donaldson?

-What about it?

Just checking. I'm going to have a word with your uncle.

Oh...

Oh.

McAllister?

Oi! Dismount that apparatus. Are you taking the...

-Get off that bike!

-My dear fellow...

Don't you "dear fellow" me, mate. Right. Name.

-My name?

-No, granny's name.

-Erm, Rosalind Elspeth.

-What's your name?!

Lord Emsworth. Erm... Baptised Clarence, 9th Earl.

At school, I was called Fathead.

You're the Earl of Emsworth, are you, sunshine?

I was never called "sunshine".

Give up your real name, chummy, or I'm putting the cuffs on you.

He's Lord Emsworth.

Are you saying you'll vouch for this man, sir?

I tended his park for 20 year. I'll vouch for the fool.

Right, well, we'll say no more about it.

Oh. He's taking my bicycle.

McAllister.

Your delightful niece, whose name inevitably escapes me,

she isn't going to marry Frederick. No. No. In fact,

she just punched him in the face, so, you see, it's all wonderful.

You can come back!

I took Sir Grigory's stucky wully.

Did it touch your lips?

It did not.

Well, I am sure we may consider you untainted.

Angus, what do you say?

Desdemona, there's still time to present her to the festival.

Ah! Oh, good gracious. My dear fellow, oh, oh,

you are one in a million. Oh, yes!

Between the two of us, we could make a very passable panda bear.

I don't suppose you want to get married, do you,

and all that sort of rot?

Perfectly ghastly prospect for all concerned.

But it seems to be required.

So, hold the nose and think of England?

Do you feel up to it?

Yup.

-"Yup"? Is that your monosyllable of choice?

-Yup.

-Yup.

Well, so be it. Jolly old bombs away.

-Should we kiss...

-I don't think that's necessary.

-No.

There could be tickling, though.

Ticky. Ticky.

Ticky, ticky, ticky, ticky!

THEY LAUGH

Ah! Beach.

Advance warning. We may be preparing the castle for an event.

A marquee may be required. What?

I did not speak, your Ladyship.

And I heard you not doing it. Out with it.

I was...perusing Society Spice, your Ladyship, and I encountered

some intelligence which I felt obliged to confide in Lord Emsworth.

I am uncertain if he has grasped the significance of it.

All right, Beach! Orf you go!

I am in command of the information!

I have rectified everything.

I have re-engaged McAllister.

Moreover, Beach has found out the queerest thing.

Nicaragua is the sole heiress of Hiram K Donaldson,

"The Biscuit King".

Yes. She stands to inherit millions of dollars.

Isn't that extraordinary? In fact, there she is now.

Going for a walk with some sort of suitcase.

Do you want a bit and all, Jimmy?

Harvest Festival in an hour.

Thought I'd come and collect Emsworth's pumpkin,

as I'm entering it for competition, with my own.

They're both my own, de facto.

We also must fix surrender of the pig.

FREDDIE LAUGHS

Yes... Um...

Felicity, you're amusing but extremely strange.

You shall not marry Freddie.

Clarence, you're an imbecile,

but I love you.

-Too kind.

-Be quiet.

I shall not see you parted from your pumpkin or your pig.

Constance, think what you're doing!

No other man of rank will consent to the burden of Freddie Threepwood.

Damn it, woman, we had a deal!

Sir Gregory, you're an old friend that I like and admire,

but I wouldn't trust you as far as I could spit a weasel.

-Hurrah for Aunt C!

-Be quiet. Freddie.

Emsworths all,

back to the house.

Ha! Ha ha ha!

Beach, did you find a jug?

Aha!

Right! Now, the secret of a really stiff Rigor Mortis

is plenty of yellow Chartreuse.

Angus! Angus! Oh, my dear fellow!

Good heavens. First prize, Desdemona! First prize!

Hurrah!

Here you are, Beach.

This'll put lead in your little propelling pencil. McAllister?

Please apologise to your niece for my allowing my face

to get in the way of her fist.

If she returns to Blandings, I'd like to see her again.

SHE GULPS

Please?

Freddie?

You know that trouser business? How much do you owe?

-Oh, erm...

-Doesn't matter, just get my chequebook. In fact, no, wait.

You know those silly songs

-that you always play that irritate me so much?

-Mm.

Will you play one now?

# Here am I, going quietly bonkers

# And cos why

# I'm dreaming of you

# Well, love's no joke

# When either is a bloke like me

# A-goin' quietly bonkers

-ALL:

-# Love, they said Heavens above, they said

# It's a heaven an' all

# Well, if this is what they call heaven

# For the love of Mike

# What's the other place like? #

Do you know what I call this, Connie?

Capital?

I call it capital.

# The way things are I feel a proper Charlie

# Till I know that you

# Are going quietly bonkers

# Going quietly bonkers

# Going quietly bonkers too. #