The Flintstones

Do I see a split?

Just keep your eye on the ball, Barney-boy.

Oh boy, good old Sunday.

Nothing to do but lazy around and read the Sunday paper.

- Honey? - Yes, Fred?

- Did you see the Sunday paper? - No, Fred, it hasn't come yet.

Mr. Flintstone, here's your paper. Catch!

Did you get your paper, dear?

Yeah, and I'm lucky it only comes once a week.

Now let's see what the rock market is doing.

I see the Dodgers lost again.

Fore!

- Barney! - Hiya, Fred, neighbor-pal.

What are you supposed to be doing besides annoying me on my day off?

Practicing golf. Watch this. Fore!

One more ''fore'' out of you and I'll give you what for.

Twenty-five hundred people in Bedrock...

and I have to pick this pebble-brain for a neighbor.

Hey, how about this!

"Fred Flintstone to captain bowling finals."

Fore!

Hold it, Fred. I gotta play them where they lie.

Pooch your mouth up a little.

Why, you...

I'll pooch your pointed head up if I catch you.

You know what's wrong with you, friend Freddie? You're a nervous wreck.

- And you need a hobby, like mine. - I got a hobby.

It's peace and quiet on Sunday.

And if I don't get it, I'm gonna break you in little pieces.

I said, "Barney."

What are you doing now?

It's my hobby I tried to tell you about.

I build things, and it keeps my nimble little fingers busy.

- What do you think of it? - Before I think of it, what is it?

That little invention will make me the first man to take off into the blue.

Well, I got a little invention of my own...

which is called "a rap on the noggin," if you don't cut out the noise.

Into the blue? That thing?

- Will it work? - It'll work, Freddie-friend...

on account of the stickle bolts connected to the toggle switch...

the toggle switch connected to the ratchet...

the ratchet rod connected to the tension trod...

which in turn is connected to the flywheel.

Then, zoom! Before you know it, you're airborne.

Now what do you think of my invention, Fred?

You still insist you're gonna fly in that crazy contraption?

- Just like the birds. - Listen, neighbor.

I'm gonna save you a lot of work and inventing.

I'm gonna fix it so you won't need that thing to fly in.

It works like this.

My fist bone connected with your jawbone, and zoom!

Before you know it, you are airborne.

Now let me get some rest, you poor excuse for a neighbor.

Poor Fred. He's a bundle of nerves.

The tension trod connected to the flywheel.

Fly just like the birds.

Looked like a dinosaur-eggbeater to me.

Nice flying weather, neighbor.

Look, Freddie, the hard way. No hands.

And no brains, either.

It works!

He's really flying. Hey, Barney!

Barney, buddy-pal!

What do you say now, Freddie-boy?

What do I say?

We did it! We're a success!

- We? - Right, Barney-boy.

With my brains and your nimble fingers, we'll make a fortune.

Think of it. No more traffic problems.

Fly right out the window each morning.

They'll be two in every cave, a ''his'' and a ''hers.''

- We'll form a corporation. - Yeah, but I...

I will be the president...

and I'll make you vice-president in charge of production.

Vice-president?

I even got a name for it.

Listen to this, Barney-boy: the Flintstone Flyer.

I was gonna call it the Barney-copter.

Not a bad suggestion, but it ain't got the hard sell.

We'll stick to the Flintstone Flyer.

Speaking of flying...

how about the prexy taking this jalopy for a trial spin?

- But do you think you're ready for a solo? - Out of my way.

- Anything you can do, I can do better. - Look, it ain't easy...

Explain it to me once. I will show you I'm ready to solo.

What's to explain?

Just start pumping, and when you're up to speed you take off.

That's all there is to it?

There's one other thing.

Details. Don't bother me with details. See me when I get back.

I just wanted to tell him how to land.

If he takes off, that is.

Hey, you're too fat, Fred!

Details, see me when I get back.

Back to the drawing board.

Hiya, Fred. How's the grounded eagle today?

Why didn't you tell me you didn't get all the bugs out of that thing...

before you let me take it up?

There's no bugs in it. You're just too fat.

Yeah, well, I'm no fathead. I resign.

Get yourself another boy for president.

Have it your way, Freddie.

From now on, the new president's gonna be me.

Yours truly, "Buzz" Barney.

Roger, wilco and O-U-T, out.

By the way, the boys are gonna miss you tonight.

What do you mean miss me tonight?

How are you gonna bowl in that crash condition?

Are you kidding?

I'll bowl tonight even if I have to push the ball down the alley with my nose.

Put it there, Fred.

Spoken like the true captain...

of the Rockhead and Quarry Cave Construction Team.

Fred, I'm home.

- Hi, Wilma. - How are you feeling?

Great. I never felt better in my life.

I'm so glad. I thought sure you wouldn't be able to make it tonight.

You think a little scratch would keep me from going?

And to think I almost returned the tickets.

- Tickets? What do I need tickets for? - Don't be silly.

How do you expect to go to the opera without tickets?

Opera?

Did you say ''opera''?

Of course. You knew we were going with the Rubbles tonight.

Tonight?

When else? We've had the tickets for a month.

Does Barney know about this?

Naturally. He bought the tickets.

Now what did I do?

Nothing. I just wanted to tell you I'm not going bowling tonight.

- Wow, can I be captain of the team? - You're not going either.

We're not going bowling...

because you had to buy tickets for the opera, for tonight.

I forgot.

Yeah, you forgot.

And we can forget about the bowling championship...

thanks to you, opera-lover.

We'll be drummed out of the Rockhead and Quarry bowling team for this.

I'd be better off if I broke my leg.

Then at least I'd have had an excuse.

Hey, maybe you got a fractured skull and don't know it?

I don't have one, but you will when the boys hear about this.

Wait a minute.

Maybe I do have something wrong with my noggin.

You do?

And maybe it'll show up tonight just when we're leaving.

I don't get it.

You'll get it if you don't pay attention. We're going bowling yet.

Now listen.

A-bowling we will go A-bowling we will go

Heigh ho

Answer the door, dear. It must be the Rubbles.

Okay, honey.

- Hi, neighbors. - Hi, Fred.

La donna e mobiIe

Faniculi, fanicula Faniculi, fanicula

- Love that opera. - I can hardly wait for the first cadenza.

Aren't you boys overdoing it a little?

Let's hurry or we'll be late. Have you got the tickets, Fred?

- Got the tickets. - Yes, indeed.

FanicuIa, fanicuIi, fanicuIi

- Love your dress. - Thanks.

Fred, what's wrong?

Fred, speak to me.

He can't talk, Wilma. He's in a state of shock.

- From the crash? - What else?

With thick skulls, it sets in a lot later.

Quick, let's get him to bed.

Are you kidding?