W.C. Fields: 6 Short Films

Genre: Documentary
Actors: W.C. Fields
 
IMDB:
7.5
Year:
2000
233 Views


Ever since you came down here to | Florida, you've positively ignored me.

- I never saw anything like it. You men are all alike. | - But...

Well, I think you're a naughty, | mean man, to make poor itty me cold.

- I'm not gonna let you go without me. | - Oh, why...

Seen my wife around?

- Huh? | - There.

- So, it's you, is it? | I've been laying for you...

for the last | three or four days,

- Now I'd like to see you. | - Murder!

- You can't do this to me! | - I can't, eh? I'm doin' it.

- You're gonna get in a lot of trouble. | - Help! Help!

- I'd say the same to you, if you take advantage. | - Murder! Help!

Say, can't I leave you | alone for one minute,

without one of these guys | trying to flirt with you?

Huh? Oh.

Now, if any of these birds | annoy you, just let me know.

Yes, hubby dear.

Gee, did you see what he did | to that poor fellow?

Boy, that house detective's | wife is going to get some guy murdered.

She'll flirt with anybody | that wears pants.

Not me, little bright-eyes.

- I'm going to join your party. | - Oh, yeah?

Well, of all the nerve...

Hey, you. Is there a gig by the name | of J. Effington Bellwether...

camping in this joint?

- Mr. Bellwether is out. | - Well, he'll be out like a light...

if he don't come through | with the 40 bucks he owes me...

for taking him out | in me fishing boat.

Why, the chiseler's been | giving me the runaround for me dough!

And I'm gonna take it | out of his hide.

You tell | the big lob that.

Oh, Mr. Bellwether is a guest in this | hotel. I can't deliver any such message.

- But if you care to, leave him a note. | - Well, I've brought me thumb.

Will youse write | it out for me?

Certainly. | Pleasure.

Well, commence, then.

"Dear Mr. Bellwether:

"Listen, you four-flushin' | horse collar.

"If you don't come through | with the jack you owe me,

"I'll knock your | sappy-lookin' block off.

"There ain't no heel | like you...

"gonna put nothin' | over on me...

"without gettin' a knuckle massage.

"Affectionately Yours,

Deep Sea McGurk, alias | the Slaughterhouse Kid. "

Finished. | You know, uh...

- Okay. | - Hey-ho.

Happy days are here... | Hello, Walter.

- How do you do, Mr. Bellwether? | - Any telegrams, cablegrams, radios...

- Televisions... | - Yes, sir. A little note.

A little note? | Oh, thank you, Walter.

Thank you, | my bonny boy.

Hmm. J. Effington Bellwether, | that's me.

Silly little girl.

Ah!

Dangerous things, | those lighters.

I bought one in | Copenhagen one time.

It was a combination | cigar lighter and matchbox.

The matches | were very good.

- Hey, mister! | - Uh, hello little boy. I'm...

- Would you give me a dollar? | - Oh, it's a little girl.

Hello, little girl. | How old are you?

Five years old.

- Five years old! | - Would you give me a dollar to put in my bank?

I'll give you a dollar | to put in your bank...

- If you'll sing me a song. | - Give me the dollar first.

Ah, you're more than five. | Go on, get out of here.

- Aw, come on. Gimme a dollar. | - Come on, scram. Oom-scray. Get away.

I don't care.

I got $50 | in my bank already.

- You have $50 in your bank? | - Yes.

Ah...

Probably has a pin | sticking in her, yes.

Well, well, Mr. Bellwether. | What are you doing down in Florida?

Oh, I was, uh, just | negotiating for a bank.

- That's your little girl? | - I don't know whose little girl it is,

but she's trying to get money out of me.

She's a wonderful | little child, though.

I was just playing | with her silken hair.

- You can lift me up by my hair if you want to. | - Just as silk and beautiful...

"I can lift her up | by her hair if I want to. "

- She's as game as a pebble. | - Lift me up!

Look at that! | Isn't it wonderful?

It really is remarkable. | And light as a feather.

Come on! Lift me up! | Lift me up!

She wants me to do it again!

You know, it really is | something to be proud of.

Yes, it's marvelous, you little minx, | you... you wonderful little gal.

- Lift me way up! | - Wants me to lift her way up.

Wants me to show it | to everybody in the hotel. Look.

Why, it's little...

Little, uh...

Say, was that guy | trying to flirt with you?

Who?

Oh, you big silly, there hasn't been | a man anywhere near me.

Oh, don't try to kid me. If I catch | him playin' around you again, I'll...

- pulverize him! | - Oh, you're such a big brute!

Now, if any of these fellows | make any wise cracks to you,

just tip me off!

All right, Daddy dear.

How do you do?

Oh, I beg your pardon.

Rather silly of me, wasn't it? | Now, was that your father?

- Oh, no. | - And he was about to strike you?

Well, perhaps he would have, | if you hadn't been here.

Why, the great | hulking brute.

You know, I've never | struck a woman in my life.

- You haven't? | - Not even my own mother.

Oh, I could see that | you were the very soul of kindness.

Oh, I'm very kind,

but of course I can be cruel | if needs be.

- You can! | - Oh, a veritable tiger!

But you have courage | written all over you.

It's the laundry marks, dear.

Oh, they're going | to play golf.

Oh, it must be wonderfully romantic | and secluded out on the golf course.

Oh, it's a marvelous game. | I'm going to play this afternoon myself.

- Would you like to join me? | - Ooh, I'd love to!

- Do you play? | - Oh, no. I wouldn't even know which end of the caddy to use.

Oh, but you do know | something about it.

Permit me.

Thank you.

Oh, I just love it out here.

- So nice and green and everything. | - Yes, it is.

Rather "park-y" | this morning, though.

I have never been on such a crowded | golf course in all my life.

You little sissy.

Did you bring | a ball with you?

Wonderful.

Now, stand clear, | and keep your eye on the ball.

- Everything is form. | - Mm-hmm.

This is what they call | the "explosion shot" from the tee.

- It won't hurt you. | It won't hurt you at all.

- Oh. | - Stand clear, boy.

Wrong club.

- What? | - Wrong club. Try this putting niblick.

A "putting niblick"?

Really, the little chap doesn't | understand the nomenclature of the game.

Now, stand clear, boy, | and keep your eye on the ball.

No, I have it.

Stan...

It's all right. | Come here.

Stand back here. He gets | all hot and bothered about nothing.

I lost a very dear friend | in the Canary Islands many years...

What are you doing | with a club like this in the bag?

Don't play | with these clubs.

I lost a very dear friend in | the Canary Islands many years ago.

- How dreadful! | - Chap by the name of Pumphrey Pothelwhistle.

- Oh-ho, what a funny name. - Ah, he's | one of the Pothelwhistles from Twickenham.

If you've ever been | to Twicken...

Stop that, will you?

Fore!

- Whoo! Quite a driver! | - Yes, he is.

Yes. | Yes, he is.

Mm.

Hmm. Yeah.

Yes, we lost old Pothelwhistle in the | Canary Islands. He was kicked to death.

- Oh, that's a shame! | - Yes, kicked to death by two infuriated canary birds.

- Oh, why is that? | - Someone had been feeding them meat.

I happ... | Excuse me. I...

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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