Mrs. Drysdale Lines

At rise; after the Clampetts leave their shack

Millburn Drysdale, I simply don’t understand you! Purchasing the estate directly next to ours for a family you don’t even know. What reason can you have for such an action?

Drysdale: I have twenty-five million reasons, Margaret, and they are all deposited in my bank. Their account elevates my bank to third position in capital assets in the state.

Money is money, Millburn.

Drysdale: You can say that again.

But position, breeding; that is what is important. We don’t want riffraff living under our very noses.

Drysdale: The Clampetts are my kind of people, Margaret. Loaded. Besides, John Brewster sent them to me.

Oh, what does he know about society? He’s in oil!

Drysdale: So, apparently, are the Clampetts. Up to their clavicles.

Even so. Rushing me here from a sick bed…

Drysdale: Margaret, you’re as healthy as I am.

Neither you nor the doctors understand how I suffer from my migraine headaches. Well, I shall greet them, Millburn, but we will not mingle with them socially until I have a genealogical check run on them.

Drysdale: I think I hear a car.

Well, if it is the Clampetts they have singularly poor taste. With their millions they’re riding around in last year’s Chevrolet.

Miss Hathaway: Ah, Mrs. Drysdale. The Captain’s lady. And how are you this fine day?

I don’t know how we are, but I am upset. With your qualifications as a secretary, you should have found these people a home somewhere far from mine. I fear the Clampetts will be—how shall I say—nouveau riche?

Miss Hathaway: Mission accomplished. I called Mrs. Penny weather at the Pennyweather Academy…

But that was my school! It’s the most exclusive in the area. They won’t take oily mountain children.

Miss Hathaway: The did when I mentioned a donation for their new library.

They just built a library. I subscribed myself.

Miss Hathaway: It seems they spent all the money on the building. They need a little more for some books. Mrs. Pennyweather will be over before the afternoon is out to put a cultured bit on them.

What is that incredible noise?

Miss Hathaway: I would venture to guess, a garbage collector.

Well, they must have the wrong address. There isn’t any garbage here. The Clampetts haven’t arrived yet.

Mr. Drysdale: I hope.

They seem to be stopping.

Jed: Howdy, I’m Jed Clampett.

Clampetts.

Mr. Drysdale: We’re the Drysdales and that’s Miss Hathaway.

Millburn…Millburn…I’m about to have a migraine.

Granny: Quick. Got some boiling water.

No! No! I’m going home! I must be alone.

Granny: Well, by the look of her, it’ll be purty soon.

Millburn! Will you escort me home?

Mr. Drysdale: Margaret, I think we should stay.

I’m going.

Jethro: Uncle Jed! That fox is fixin’ to bite that lady!

Millburn, they’re assasins.

Elly: No ma’am, we’re the Clampetts. Mebbe the Assassin family used to live here.

I have only two words for you. Get them out of here at once if not sooner.

Mr. Drysdale: That’s ten words..

At a time like this, do you expect me to count? … Oh! My fox!

Jethro: I guess we do… Darlin’.

Millllllburrrrrn! Millllllburrrrrn! Escape at once!

Mr. Drysdale: Escape? What are you talking about?

The fire! The fire! I tried to phone but the phone’s gone dead so I sent the butler for the fire department.

Mr. Drysdale: Ah, there, Jethro…

Millburn, why…

Mr. Drysdale: You know why, Margaret. For the same reason I’ve made Jed Clampett a director of my bank. He is my largest depositor. We must keep them here. Try, try to appear interested, neighborly, friendly.

I am your wife, Millburn, not an Academy Award actress.

Jed: Why, howdy, Mr. Drysdale…Miz Drysdale. Come in ‘n’ set a spell.

Oh, we can’t possibly stay…We just dropped in to be neighborly.

Jed: That shore pleasures me, ma’am. Most o’ the other folks ain’t so friendly.

Their husbands aren’t bank presidents.

Jed: Yore giving’ us a party at yore house?

Not in MY house!

Jed: Oh, Granny’ll be happy as a swallow with a two-headed worm. Granny! Come out n’ see who’s here! You’ll he’p her, wocha? Granny’s a good woman but she ain’t whacha’d call a society hostess.

No, she ain’t. Isn’t! Oh, Millburn, it’s contaigious!

Granny: How do, Mr. Drysdale? How you been keepin’, Miz Drysdale? How’s yore grain?

My what?

Granny: You know…yore grain.

My…grain. Oh! My migraine! Frightful! You’ll never know how I suffer. Morning it’s all I can do to swallow a mouthful of tea.

Granny: I was like that when I was carryin’ Elly’s maw. All sloshin’ aroun’ ‘n’ squirmy as a snake in sheddin’ season.

But migraine is a headache!

Granny: Yup. An’ they’s worse after they come. But I know just the thing fer you. Jed, reckon I could whomp up a batch o’ my stomach mash fer Miz Drysdale?

Oh, I couldn’t let you trouble.

Granny: That was Elverna. She had the stomach ailin’.

Millburn…I must go home at once.

Granny: A party! Say, that’s a right good idea. When is it? I’d need time to fix things. Cain’t do it b’fore…tomorrow night.

Tomorrow!

Granny: Dunno whut vittles to fix. Do the folks here abouts like skunk stew an’ dandelion rice?

Anything! Anything! Just do a simple menu. Millburn, take me home.

At rise; after Drysdale’s office

…and this is Eloise Van Rensallear Stokely-Smythe.

Mrs. S-S: Margaret…

It’s all right, Eloise. Caviar and sour cream.

Jethro: I purely am. One, two, cha cha cha. One, two, cha cha cha.

Darlings! I’d like you to meet Jed Clampett…and…Granny. Mr. and Mrs. Oglethorpe. He’s the President of the United States Shipping.

Miss Hathaway: Here we are, Lt. Richards. I hope we’re not too late.

You have made my position untenable, Millburn. I shall have to go away and hide until the whole ugly scandal blows over. Some place where I am unknown. Some small, rustic, expensive village like Acapulco.

Miss Hathaway: Mr. Drysdale, I resent the imputation that I am anything other than a loyal employee constantly toiling for the safe keeping and betterment of the hand that feeds me. I have been emulating the ant, moving mountains to accomplish the downfall of the forces that threaten to purloin…

Millburn, make her stop addressing us as a public meeting! What does she mean?

Richards: Oh, yes. Rita Rio…alias Country Kate. One of the cleverest girls int he confidence racket. If I nab her, she’ll go to jail.

Police! Jail! That means the Press! It spells social ruin. Now, not only will I be “out” with the “in” crowd, I may even be “in” with the “out” crowd. Oh, my migraine!

Jed: Been lookin’ fer Emaline an’ fer that detective an’ Elly that’s s’posed to be lookin’ fer Emaline. An’ I were doin’ a little indeed chompin’ myself.

No! No! You will no stop me! … I want Millburn and I intend to get him. I am a sick woman, Miss Hathaway.

Miss Hathaway: Yes, Mrs. Drysdale, but if you’re sick, then you should be at home, lying down.

There is no point to lying down and being sick, if there’s no one there to watch you suffer. I want Millburn. I am getting Millburn.

Mr. Drysdale: Fifty thousand dollars! You’re not dealing with an ignorant hillbilly. I’ll go to the police, the FBI, the Attorney General, before I pay you a red cent.

Millburn!

Mr. Drysdale: I’ll pay.

What are you paying for?