The Flintstones

Pretty swell of the sergeant to tip us off about the secret mission.

We've got to remember not to talk

to anyone about it. It's a top secret.

That should be easy. We don't know anything about it.

And now, gentlemen, we shall conduct a series of experiments...

to test your reactions under certain peculiar conditions.

In this first experiment, we will test your reaction to gravity.

How are we doing?

I will tell you in just a moment.

Reaction to gravity: Normal.

And here is the insurance policy...

you and your husband ordered, Mrs. Flintstone.

It goes into effect as soon as Mr. Flintstone...

takes his physical examination.

I see. Where does he take the examination?

At the medical building. 57 Main Street.

Fine. I'll see that he gets down there right away.

Thank you for dropping it off, Mr. Mortar.

You're welcome, Mrs. Flintstone. Goodbye.

- Goodbye, Mrs. Rubble. - Goodbye, Mr. Mortar.

What's all that fine chipping on the bottom?

That's on all insurance policies.

Like, it pays double if a frozen pizza pie falls on your head...

and like that.

How did you ever talk Fred into taking out insurance?

I didn't call it insurance, that would suggest Fred wasn't immortal.

I told him the company was searching for a perfect physical specimen...

and all the contestants had to take out a policy...

to enter the contest.

That's pretty good. I wonder if it would work with Barney?

You know what he said the last time we talked about insurance?

- No, what? - He said he wasn't setting it up...

for some second husband of mine to paint the town.

Especially after he bought the paint.

Men. I guess no woman really understands them.

No, but it's fun trying.

Okay, Fred, let her go!

Right, Charlie.

Sorry, Charlie.

It's okay, Fred. No harm done.

Lucky you had your safety helmet on.

Rockhead & Quarry Cave Construction Company.

Who? Fred Flintstone?

Yeah, hold the line.

Fred, it's for you!

- Your wife! - Be right there.

Going UP-

Thanks.

Flintstone speaking.

What's up, Wilma?

The guy was there about the contest, the insurance company?

The physical?

Why bother? They can see I'm in perfect health.

One of the rules, huh?

All right, where do I go?

Betty, where did Mr. Mortar say Fred was to go for his physical?

Some place on Main Street. I think he said the number was 75.

75 Main Street, Fred.

Why don't you drop by there on the way home?

Now, don't get panicky, Fred. Stop worrying.

I tell you, there's nothing to worry about.

Yes, I will.

Okay. Cross my heart, I promise I'll keep your dinner hot for you.

I'll see you later.

Bye-bye.

From the way he carried on...

I thought I'd have to bring it to the gravel pit.

Barney is driving today, so you'd better keep his dinner warm, too.

Say, Wilma, I'm not sure of that number on Main Street.

75 Main Street sounds right.

Besides, he knows enough to check the phone book...

if we gave him the wrong address.

Sure is nice of you to drive me down to Main Street, Barney.

Think nothing of it. My pleasure.

How come you're getting a physical, Fred?

It's one of the rules in the contest I'm in.

I'd suggest you get in the contest, too, but you wouldn't have a chance.

You're over the hill athletically.

Your reflexes don't flex anymore.

What are you talking about? I'm as flexy as I ever was.

It's nothing to be ashamed of, Barney-boy.

Some guys retain youthful muscle tone, like me...

and others get all spongy, like you.

I'm going to enter that contest, and I bet I'll beat you.

That's okay with me, Barney-boy. Just don't whimper when you lose.

This is Main Street. What number were you looking for?

75. There it is. Down the street.

- Look at all the guys! - That's to be expected, it's a big contest.

But those guys don't stand a chance.

Is this the line for the physicals?

- Yeah, this is it. - We're all set, Barney.

All right, you men, step inside.

Sure, mister, we'll be happy to give you a physical.

That's why we're here.

My friend would like to get in this thing, too.

Fine. The more the merrier.

Just sign on the dotted line, and you're both in.

I'll sign first.

- There you are, bud. - Good. Now your friend.

Here's the pen, Barn.

- Anything else? - Only the physical.

Doc, I've got a couple of greenhorns for you.

Okay, I'll take the big flabby one first.

The big flabby one!

That's you, Fred.

Then I'll take the little spongy one.

That's you, Barney.

- How am I doing, Doc? - So far, so good.

We'll try your reflexes next.

Look, it's moving.

Reflexes: Normal.

Okay, next.

- Like this, Doc? - Yeah, that's fine.

There's always one in every crowd.

How long does this keep up? We've got to get home.

Yeah, I'm getting hungry.

A couple of more recruits?

Step right up, fellows. We'll GI you right now.

One for you and one for you.

Welcome to the Army!

The Army?

What's he talking about?

I don't know, but I'm not sticking around to find out.

Let's get out of here.

Watch it, that thing is sharp.

Congratulations, men.

You've just broken the record for going over the hill.

Three minutes and 23 seconds after joining the Army.

You don't understand. This whole thing is a big mistake.

It looks like we made the mistake...

in thinking we can make soldiers out of you in three short years.

Three years!

Are you kidding? My wife wouldn't stand for it.

- I demand to go home right now. - Certainly.

Sergeant, show these men to their new home.

Yes, sir. Come on, you guys.

Hello, Wilma? Fred.

- Guess where I am? - I know where you're not...

and that's home, where you should be.

I got some news for you, honey. Listen.

Barney and I just joined the Army.

It sounded like you said...

Barney and you joined the Army.

Now, let's have it again, Fred.

Barney and I just joined the Army for three years.

You and Barney joined the Army for three years?

Don't expect me to keep your dinner hot that long.

But it's not like I won't be home again.

Barney and I got a three-hour pass for tonight.

Three whole hours?

I'll explain it to you when I see you, Wilma. Goodbye.

You couldn't explain it to me in three years, and I'm in it.

This is all Wilma's fault. She told me to go to 75 Main Street...

for a physical checkup.

Guess they're not home.

You'd think they'd be here. We've only got a little time.

We thought you'd appreciate a military homecoming.

Very funny.

Only we wouldn't be in the Army if it wasn't for you two.

What? Do you mean to tell me I told you to join the Army?

You told me to go to 75 Main Street and take a physical.

75 Main Street is the Army recruiting office...

and they give physicals there.

Didn't you tell me 75?

Maybe it was 57.

All I know is it's Fred's fault.

What do you mean, my fault? It's Wilma's fault.

- It's Betty's fault. - It's your fault.

Wait a minute, let's do that over again. And I'll start it this time.

Why bother? What's done is done. It's no use crying over spilt milk.

Cry over spilt milk?

There's spilt milk. I laugh at spilt milk.

But this army thing I can't laugh off.

Fred, we've got to get going. It's along way back to the camp.

I don't want you to go, Barney.

Don't feel bad, honey, it's not like it's forever.

I'll be home in three years.

Yeah, the three years will go pretty fast.

They will not. I'll miss you.

I'll get it.

Fred Flintstone speaking.

That's it, Fred. We've got to go.

They sure keep track of a guy in this man's army.

- Goodbye, Wilma. - Bye, Betty.

- We'll write to you every day. - Me, too, Betty.

How do they always manage to bollix things up, Betty?

I don't know, Wilma. Practice, I guess.

Company, attention!

Forward march!

Hup, two, three, four.

Hey, fatso, stick that chest out! Swing those arms.

To the rear, march!

We've been marching for two weeks now, but we don't get no place.

Yeah, all I get is beat feet.

On the double! March!

My feet are killing me.

Feet? Mine are so numb I forgot I had them.

Company, halt!

Okay, men, take a ten-second break.

- I can't take it, Fred. - Me neither.