The Horse in the Gray Flannel Suit

[Hoofbeats Galloping]

[Horse Whinnying]

[Hoofbeats Continue]

[Chattering]

[Woman] Excuse me, excuse me.

Coming out. Excuse me.

Ooh. Ah...

- I think you've hooked something.

Sorry, lady.

- Really!

- Good mornin', Joe.

- Good morning, Mr. Bolton.

Your horse get a flat

on the parkway?

Uh, got left

at the tollgate.

The wife and the kids said thanks

for the tickets to the Aspercel broadcast.

- Glad they liked it.

- They didn't...

but the wife said

say thanks anyway.

- [Chuckling]

- Sixth floor! Tallyho!

- Good morning, Mr. Bolton.

- Good morning, Alice.

Has the day's hysteria started?

Yes, sir. Mr. Tomes said, "Are you here?"

Mr. Pfeiffer sent up the layouts.

Mr. Willis didn't come in

on account of poison ivy.

- And the meeting has been

moved up to 9:
15.

- N-ni... Holy smoke.

- Oh, Mr. Bolton!

- Yeah?

- Mr. Bolton!

- What?

Oh, I'm sorry, Alice.

- Good morning, Fred.

- Oh, hi.

Let me be the first to give you

the good news:
Mr. Dugan

is coming to your meeting.

- Dugan?

- Thomas Fitzpatrick

"Eat 'em alive" Dugan...

chairman of the board

of Allied Drug and Food.

- Mr. Aspercel himself.

- I'm dead.

- I know, but we're all

behind you, my boy.

- It's a good place to be.

I wish

I were there myself.

Good morning, Catherine.

Dugan's coming to the meeting.

I know. The staff s inside

having a nervous breakdown.

Yeah, yeah, so am I.

What time is it?

9:
07. I've already sent

the material upstairs. Bless you.

This saddle's been making me sneeze

all the way from Westhill.

- Did you take your antihistamine?

- Yeah, I've taken seven.

Have a messenger

pick this thing up, take it to the...

Oh, Brockenhurst Saddle Shop

on 48th Street.

"Have seam stitched."

Your daughter phoned.

She said, "Daddy would be sure

to get everything all mixed up."

Mmm, that's a smart kid.

- Can you imagine Dugan?

- Didn't he give you any warning?

No. Don't I get any mail

but bills? This guy can wait.

Pay half of that.

Polite stall letter on that one.

S.J. Clemens Riding Academy.

Didn't I pay this once?

No, sir, but you did

shove it aside several times.

Catherine, I spoil Helen,

don't I?

- Yes, sir.

- Yeah.

That's what comes of being

mother and father at the same time.

I spoil her double.

- [Bolton] Good morning.

- [Chattering]

- Fred, what are you gonna do?

- All right, Howie,

you don't have the layouts.

- All right, now everybody relax.

- Ta-da

- Pete, I know that you don't have...

- Ta-da

- Charlie, what is that?

- Kinda leaves you a little

breathless at first, huh?

I said you could suggest

something like this in a drawing.

- I have a drawing.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah,

but I think three-dimensional.

- A drawing couldn't even

possibly convey the impact.

- Charlie, l...

I've been working on it

for weeks just to surprise ya.

- On my own time: Nights,

lunches, coffee breaks.

- My drawing's in color.

Look, Charlie, take this thing back,

put it in its space capsule.

- You've got to see him work.

You put the pill in here...

- Nine hundred dollars!

Oh, we can turn 'em out

cheaper than that.

Catherine, am I

reading this right?

- Here's the address.

- Nine hundred dollars?

- That's right.

- For riding lessons?

Freddie, please, don't knock my little man

until you see him in action.

How can anybody owe $900

for riding lessons?

You gotta see how he works.

Mimsey, get me a pill.

Who is S.J. Clemens anyway?

I'll have him run in for extortion.

- Freddie, just watch this.

This'll really grab ya.

- Charlie, take this monster...

Yes, Gladys, I'll tell him.

It's upstairs.

Mr. Dugan is in the conference room.

Let's go.

Freddie?

- Okay, bring your friend.

It's too late now.

- Mimsey, the pills.

Catherine, if anybody calls,

you know where to locate the body.

Gladys, they're on their way.

Charlie, the next time

I leave you alone with an idea...

But, Freddie, you haven't even

given my little man a chance.

- He'll steal your heart away.

Mimsey, the pills.

- Sixth floor.

The big pills. They're just like

the little pills, only they're bigger.

Mimsey. Come on, Mimsey.

Get in the elevator, honey.

Excuse me, folks. Freddie,

wait'll you see my little man work.

Hey, Mr. Bolton.

I see you got yourself a jockey.

What happened to

the rest of him?

He, uh, just couldn't

pull himself together, Joe.

- Come on, Mimsey. Get the pill.

- I'm trying.

- Seventh floor.

- Oh, out. Out, please.

Oh, is this ten?

No, ma'am, seven.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm terribly sorry.

I've got it!

Good. Now when I tell ya

to give him the pill, give him the pill.

- You ready?

- Ready.

[Bell Ringing,

Liquid Bubbling]

- He's got a short circuit.

- No, that's just a gimmick, Freddie.

We start out with

an inflamed, sensitive stomach...

like the guy had an overdose

of salami or somethin'.

And what happens? The minute

the stomach gives out the alarm,

old Aspercel goes to work.

- Ten. Out.

- Give him the pill.

Watch this. Old speedy Aspercel

races down the old esophagus...

hits the old alimentary canal

and zoink.

- Zoink, what?

- Zoink, it's stuck.

- Out.

- Ten?

- Twelve.

- Never mind. I'll get out anyway.

- I think I'm in the wrong building.

- Zoink!

Instant... Instant...

[Pill Plops]

Aspercel, Aspercel

When you're sick

it'll make you well

- Instant relief.

- Ahh!

[Clapping]

So this is it?

This is the whole campaign,

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