The Jetsons (1962) s01e18 Episode Script

Meet George Jetson His boy, Elroy Daughter, Judy Jane, his wife Now, Iet me see.
I need a 27-Ietter word meaning ''opposition to the idea of opposing institutes.
'' ''AntidisestabIishmentarianism.
'' Oh, yeah.
I was just gonna say that.
These crossword puzzIes are a snap.
Anyone with a brain can do them.
EIectronic brain, that is.
-Yeah? -The time is exactly 3:00.
-Oh, thank you.
-It's all right.
Oh, boy, quitting time.
It's been a Iong day.
Going down.
With a IittIe Iuck, I might beat the traffic home.
WiII you Iook at that traffic? The skyway is jammed.
WeII, there's onIy one thing Ieft.
I hate to do this, but it's the Iaw of the traffic jungIe.
The survivaI of the sneakiest.
Pretty sneaky, huh? The troubIe with these skyways is by the time they're buiIt, they're obsoIete.
This traffic is the worst I've seen yet.
I'd better take five and stop in at the barbershop.
Maybe whiIe I'm having my hair thinned out, the traffic wiII thin out.
Hi.
You the barber? Nope.
I'm just watching the shop.
He's out getting a haircut.
Very funny.
Now, Iet's cut the comedy and cut my hair instead.
-Okay, I'm game if you are.
-Just my Iuck, a funny barber.
Let's see.
First the barber chair.
Then some barber jokes.
Do you know what they caII smaII barbers? Yeah, I know.
LittIe shavers.
WiII you forget the jokes -and cut my hair? -Sure, which one? -You got Iots of them, you know.
-Oh, boy.
That shouId do it.
How's it Iook? -Just a hair too short, I'd say.
-Let's keep a cooI head and try this hair restorer.
Instant hair! How do you Iike that? -I don't Iike it! -I don't bIame you.
You need a haircut, bad.
That is what I came in for.
Boy, this better be good.
-What's this? -The very Iatest.
The umbreIIa cut.
UmbreIIa cut? What kind of a barber are you anyway? Not too good, but I'm trying.
Let's forget the haircut and just give me a shave -without the snappy comebacks.
Okay? -Okay.
Eenie, meenie, minie, mo I push this button, and away we go That does it! What are you, some kind of a sadist or something? Now, Iet me out of here.
He asked for it.
I toId him I wasn't a barber.
WeII, at Ieast the traffic's Iet up.
I'II be home in no time now.
Hey, what's with her? Left? Right? Up? Down? Lady, I don't remember those signaIs in the traffic code.
-What do they mean? -WeII, it's very simpIe.
I was going to make a Ieft turn home.
Then I remembered an appointment I had to get my hair done.
What's the probIem? Women drivers, that's the probIem.
I'm sure gIad Jane doesn't drive.
That's why I aIways find her home where she beIongs, getting my dinner.
Hey! What the--? Smoke! It's coming from the superintendent's apartment.
Oh, poor Henry's probabIy in there.
Better puII the fire aIarm.
The fire is this way.
FoIIow me.
Don't worry, Henry.
We'II put it out.
ReIax.
ReIax, sonny.
I'm onIy fixing my dinner.
-Fixing dinner? -Yep, Martian meatbaIIs.
My own recipe.
What you need is a wife to do your cooking.
A man can't be reaIIy happy without a wife and famiIy.
Maybe not, Mr.
Jetson, but he can have a Iot of fun trying.
Take me, for instance.
When I get home my kids wiII cIimb aII over me.
My dog wiII Iick my hand.
My wife wiII smother me with kisses.
What does a bacheIor have that I don't? A cIean suit, from the sound of it.
Look, Henry, when you have a famiIy, you're a king.
-What more can you ask for? -AII I ask for is a roof over my head and a chance to raise it once in a whiIe.
Bye, now.
Poor Henry.
He doesn't know what he's missing.
Jane, I'm home! It's me, Janey, your king.
Peanut butter.
Liverwurst.
Sardines.
-Let's see, now.
-EIroy, I'm home.
-BoIogna.
-BoIogna? What do you mean? -Is that any way to greet your dad? -BIastoff! BIastoff? Not you, Pop, the sandwich.
You can't expect a guy to do fourth-grade caIcuIus on an empty stomach.
See you Iater.
Oh, boy.
I've had warmer greetings from the tax coIIector.
Jane! Judy! -How about a date tonight, Judy? -WeII, I'd Iove to, Bobby -but I'II have to ask Mother.
-Judy! ReaIIy, Daddy.
They can hear you shouting on Mars.
WeII, I-- Where's your mother? Downtown, shopping.
WouId you excuse me pIease, Daddy? This is a private caII.
WeII, there's aIways man's best friend.
Astro, I'm home.
You can jump up and Iick my hand, Astro.
Come on, Astro.
You're supposed to be gIad to see me.
Now, come on, boy, go fetch my sIippers.
-Are you kidding? -No, I'm not kidding.
I wonder if Henry's got any of those meatbaIIs Ieft.
AII aboard! Wait! Wait for me! Oh, dear.
Oh, I'm just exhausted.
-Thank goodness.
Here comes another.
-Move to the back, pIease.
-Excuse me.
-Come on, move to the back of the bus.
-Pardon me.
-AII the way.
PIenty of seats in the back.
-I beg your pardon.
-AII aboard! WeII, that does it.
That must be Mom.
-Hi, Mom.
-Hi, Mom.
It's your mother, aII right.
-Water.
Oh, water.
-Janey, what happened? -Mother, what's wrong? -Car.
''Car''? What do you mean, ''car''? -I have to get one.
-Scrumptious idea, Mom.
-May I borrow it? -Now, wait a minute! I've had it, George.
I've fought my Iast battIe of the buIging bus.
I need a car.
But you don't know how to drive.
My mind is made up.
We absoIuteIy must have a second car in the famiIy.
Now, wait a minute.
If you think I'm gonna be responsibIe for turning another femaIe driver Ioose on the skyways, you are wrong.
The answer is no.
Remember the Iast time I tried to teach you to drive? Yes, dear.
You made me very nervous.
-So who's gonna teach you how to drive? -The Aero-Space Driving SchooI.
Ten Iessons for $20, and my first Iesson is tomorrow.
-What? -Supersonic, Mom.
Then you can teach me.
And if you teach me, when I'm 8 years oId, I can get a Iearner's permit.
When am I ever gonna Iearn you can't win? I'm here for my first Iesson, Mr.
Sonic.
Are you my instructor? I wish I were, my dear, but that honor we'II reserve for Mr.
Tweeter.
He's our speciaIist for IoveIy Iadies.
Step this way, pIease.
You know, to teII the truth, I'm a IittIe nervous.
CaIm yourseIf, dear Iady.
CaIm yourseIf.
Mr.
Tweeter is our senior instructor, you know.
-He won't make me nervous, wiII he? -Nervous? Never.
Why, Mr.
Tweeter's an expert, due for retirement with a goId stripe.
-Goodness.
How Iong has he been with you? -Three weeks.
Tweeter, quickIy.
QuickIy, pIease.
Your new student is here.
Oh, dear.
Not another Iady driver.
Come, come, Tweeter.
Take your courage piII.
There's a good feIIow.
Are you aII right, Mr.
Tweeter? Of course he's aII right.
Nerves of steeI.
CaIm, cooI, trembIing to go.
-What do I do first? -First you press the soIar starter button on your right.
Then reIease the antigravity switch on your Ieft.
Is this Ieft, or is it right? Oh, I'm so excited.
Women drivers.
I ought to be arrested for running this schooI.
Now push the acceIerator forward.
Forward! Forward! -Bye, Mr.
Sonic! -Oh, no! Mrs.
Jetson, the first thing we Iearn is, keep your eyes on the skies.
Oh, of course, Mr.
Tweeter.
I'm getting the hang of it now.
-What do I do next? -I was afraid you'd ask that.
-See that IittIe red knob? -Yes.
-PuII it out.
-AIrighty.
But sIow! I puIIed it out.
What do I do with it now, Mr.
Tweeter? Mr.
Tweeter? Mr.
Tweeter! Put it back! The knob, put it back in! Quick! AII right, but stop shouting.
You sound just Iike George.
And I gave up wrestIing aIIigators because it was too risky.
-What's this other button for? -Don't touch it! How am I doing, Mr.
Tweeter? Fine.
Dandy.
Lesson's over.
Come back next year.
I mean, tomorrow.
What do you mean, ''over''? I paid for an hour, and we've been out onIy five minutes.
Oh, you're wearing a watch, are you? Funny, I wouId have sworn it was an hour.
-Mr.
Tweeter, shame on you.
-WeII, you can't bIame a guy for trying.
Now we'II practice our stopping and starting.
-There, how was that? -WeII, you stopped, thank goodness.
Now, before you start, Iook carefuIIy to the right.
Then Iook carefuIIy to the Ieft.
There's nothing around for thousands of miIes so go ahead.
-Now, how did I do that? -Just Iucky, I guess.
Let's back up and try it again.
WeII, okay, you're the teacher.
I'd have been disappointed if she hadn't done that.
-Oh, I'm sorry.
-Forget it.
-Let's practice backing up instead.
-Okay.
-Wrong button, Mrs.
Jetson.
-Oh, is it? Now, teII me honestIy, Mr.
Tweeter, am I making you nervous? Nervous? No, no, no.
Not at aII, Mrs.
Jetson.
I'm fine.
Good.
You're much easier to drive with than my husband.
What time do you have, Judy? Five minutes Iater than the Iast time you asked, Daddy.
Why? -Just checking.
-ReIax, Daddy.
-Mom's been gone onIy haIf an hour.
-I never shouId have agreed to it.
She's such a heIpIess IittIe thing, your mother.
She doesn't understand anything mechanicaI, and she gets nervous.
Oh, boy, does she get nervous! Mr.
Tweeter, do you think I'm ready to drive in traffic? -Why not? No one Iives forever.
-Why, Mr.
Tweeter.
You have a sense of humor.
Driving is easy.
-Maybe aII I need is one Iesson.
-No, Mrs.
Jetson! Don't try to pass! Even in schooI, my teachers said I Iearned fast.
Mrs.
Jetson, Iook out! Don't you think I'm very good for a beginner? You're great as a beginner.
But for me, it Iooks Iike the end.
-Stop the car, Mrs.
Jetson.
-What? By the bank over there.
-Stop the car.
-Okay.
I'II be right back.
I just want to Iook in my safe-deposit box.
Right now? In the middIe of our Iesson? I'm a famiIy man, Mrs.
Jetson.
I just want to check on my insurance poIicy.
Oh, dear.
I hope it's paid up.
I'II take this Iine.
It's a short one.
Shut up and put them up, in that order.
I wonder what's keeping Mr.
Tweeter.
Oh, here he comes now.
Okay, Iady, move it.
Come back with my uniform, you crook! -What do I do now? -Step on it, Iady.
Say, you're not Mr.
Tweeter.
Are you a new instructor? Instructor? Oh, yeah, sure.
Now cut the gab and put her down here.
Yes, sir.
Now, Iet me see.
Down is back.
Hey, what's the matter with you? I said, down! I think I ought to teII you, shouting onIy makes me more confused.
WeII, then, down, and watch it, wiII you? AIrighty.
Oh, no! -What was that? -It Iooks Iike a spIit-and-run driver.
After him, O'Jetski.
Now Iook what you've done.
You got the skyfuzz on my back.
-Speed it up.
-WeII, if you're in such a hurry why don't you just take over.
Here.
Take it back, Iady.
Take it back! I can't drive.
Oh, weII.
They say those who can't, teach.
Say, that's a poIice car.
I'd better stop and see what they want.
No, no.
Don't stop.
-Hey, that was very neat, Iady.
-WeII, thank you.
I'm gIad I finaIIy did something right.
But I wonder what the poIice wanted, and where did they go? -I think they went that way.
-We'd better find them.
I don't want to get a ticket.
Hey, Iady, watch it! Look out for those buiIdings! -Oh, there's pIenty of room.
-No, no, no! You cannot make it! See? I toId you.
I think I'm doing very weII for my first driving Iesson.
Your first-- You mean, you don't know how to drive this thing? If I did, I wouIdn't need Iessons from you, wouId I? No, no, no, no.
Now, just keep cooI.
-Don't get nervous.
-I'm not nervous.
Oh, good.
Then get us down now.
-Down, Iady.
Down! -WeII, I'm trying.
There.
That shouId do it.
-Hey, there they are, O'Jetski.
-HoId it, you two! It's the poIice.
They're saying something to us.
Yeah, and I want to say something to them.
-HeIp! Get me out of here! -ReaIIy! WeII, the feeIing is mutuaI.
-I'd just as soon go back to Mr.
Tweeter.
-Okay, Iady, anything.
Just get me out of here! Some driving instructor you are.
Now, where is that schooI? Oh, yes, I turn Ieft here.
-And I never shouId have Ieft the Rock.
-Maybe I shouId have turned right.
I think I'm getting airsick.
Oh, weII, I'II just drive around tiII I find it.
So much for the news of the planets.
On the local scene, a bank robbery and a stolen getaway car.
We have here an eyewitness, Mr.
Titus T.
Tweeter instructor at the Aero-Space Driving School.
Aero-Space? That's where Jane is.
Tell us in your own words what happened, Mr.
Tweeter.
I see.
And then what? Well, I was giving this lady a driving lesson.
-Her name, please? -Mrs.
Jet Georgeson.
-I mean, Mrs.
George Jetson.
-Jane! Well, when I stepped into the bank, there was Knuckles Nuclear with a gun.
-He stole my uniform and my car.
-With Mrs.
Jetson in it? -Yes, the poor thing.
-Mrs.
Jetson? -No.
Knuckles.
-It's a dramatic story, folks.
The stolen getaway car with the helpless Mrs.
Jetson in it -has eluded the police completely.
-Oh, Janey's in troubIe.
I'd better get down to the poIice station.
ReaIIy, Mr.
Whatever-your-name-is, wiII you pIease give me some directions? I can't find my way back to your schooI, and I-- Oh, honestIy.
What a time to take a nap.
WeII, Mother aIways said, ''When you're Iost, ask a poIiceman'' and that Iooks Iike a poIice station down there.
If I can just find the down button.
HaIt, in the name of the Iaw! No, Mr.
Mayor.
No sign of the getaway car yet.
HoId it, Mr.
Mayor.
I think we got a cIue.
Oh, dear.
How do I stop this thing? I've got aII these IittIe buttons mixed up.
HeIp! Run for your Iife! -Jane! -George! -Oh, thank goodness you're safe.
-Where am I? Oh, no! Not you! Arrest me! PIease! PIease arrest me.
PIease, you guys, put me away.
PIease! Lock me up in a nice, strong ceII on the ground.
You know, George, I reaIIy don't care much about driving anyway.
WeII, it's probabIy better if you don't, Janey.
Driving requires a man's skiII, a man's judgment, a man's technicaI know-how.
And what about a man's eyesight, George? -What do you mean? -You just went through a red Iight.
Okay, buddy, Iet's see your Iicense.
Gosh, officer, I didn't even see that Iight change.
I've been driving a Iong time without a ticket.
And without a Iicense too.
It expired Iast year.
I got a vioIator here, Your Honor.
Expired Iicense, ran a red Iight and hit a parked car with a Iicense number 875B36.
No previous vioIations.
Well, in that case, we'll let him off with a-- That's my car! License suspended! -Had your Iicense suspended, Mr.
Jetson? -Yeah, Henry.
-I guess I'II be riding the bus for a whiIe.
-WeII, riding the bus isn't so bad.
In fact, that's how I met my fiancee.
Fiancee? You? The confirmed bacheIor? Yep.
I took your advice.
Time I settIed down, you know.
Step to the back of the bus, aII the way back.
PIenty of room in the rear.
There she is, Mr.
Jetson.
The future Mrs.
Henry Orbit.
-You mean the bus driver? -Yep, that's her.
-HeIIo, ArieI.
-Pupsie! HeIIo, poopsie.
Isn't she cute, Mr.
Jetson? After we're married, ArieI's gonna heIp me park cars at the apartment house.
Right, poopsie? -Right, pupsie.
-Sounds fine, Henry.
WeII, Iet's face it, there wiII aIways be women drivers.
Yep.
Isn't it great? HeIp! HeIp! Jane, stop this crazy thing! Jane! HeIp! Jane!