What a Way to Go!

$17.52.

That settles my back taxes for '59 and '60.

- That does it. - Gougers, all of you.

- Gougers! - Don't tell it to me. I make 60 bucks a week here.

- Go ahead, lady. I can wait. - Oh, thank you.

Is this where you give the money in?

Excuse me. Is this where you give the money in?

Let me see your form, miss.

I mean, did you make out a form? I mean, where are your papers?

Oh. This is the only paper that I thought was necessary.

Oh, I can't take your check without the regular 1040 form.

It's to be sure it's the correct amount according to your return.

Well, this isn't according to any return. It's just money.

I wanna give it to the government.

Well, this is very irregular.

First of all, this is the Department of Internal Revenue and...

Oh, I get it.

April fool. Next!

- No, please. - Next!

And... And I went to see the head clerk...

and then the assistant to the Secretary of Treasury...

and then the Secretary of Treasury...

but...

but when I insisted on seeing the president...

they insisted I come to see you!

Dr. Svenson...

do you think I'm crazy too?

The... The name is "Steffanson"...

Victor Steffanson...

and, um... and we never use that word around here.

Now, Mrs. Benson, you just take one of these and try to relax. Here.

You know, Mrs...

Aaah! Pink!

Pink. They're pink pills!

- My husband was pink! I can't take a pink pill! - Ju-Just crunch it.

Crunch it right down. Th-That's right. That's right.

Uh, Mrs. Benson...

you are obviously the victim of some inner disturbance...

in which, well, for the want of a better word...

your guilts have led you to a state of fantasy...

in which, um, "A,"

you are burdened with some fantastic wealth...

and... and "B," you are eager to rid yourself of it...

as in the ancient ritual of exorcising some dybbuk or, uh, evil spirit.

- Now, now, now, now. Now, this is normal.

Excuse me.

Yes. Please don't... What?

Oh, yes. Put him on, please.

Oh, hello, Fred. Uh-huh. You investigated. And?

F-Fred. Th-The check is good?

Uh-huh. Yes.

Uh-huh. Thank you, Fred.

I have the strangest tingling sensation in my...

my toes.

Are you all right?

What?

- Uh, w-what happened? - Well, "A," you fainted and "B," I poured water on you.

I'm terribly sorry, but I didn't know what else to do.

No, it-it's all right. You did the right thing.

Um, do you faint often?

Oh, just once in a while.

It's the shock of realization whenever I've been dead wrong about something.

The fainting is, um, running away, as it were...

from the reality that I'm not...

I'm not infallible.

Y-You see, it's been the pattern of my life...

from the time I was a...

Wait a minute. What is this?

Who's doing what to who... or whom?

Mrs. Benson, you are a young woman...

who is apparently worth in the neighborhood of... $200 million!

And for some incredible reason, you wanna give it to the government!

Y-You don't need a psychiatrist. You need your head examined.

- Now, out of my office! Out! - No, Dr. Steffanson.

- Out of my office! - You said something a minute ago...

that was very understanding and true.

I never heard it expressed before. But I want your help.

- Mrs... - Oh, please!

Ah, yes.

Yes, the oath I took forbids me to turn away from a cry for help.

S-Sit down, Mrs. Benson.

Oh! It was what you said about my wanting to get rid of my money...

like exorcising some evil spirit.

- Ah, yes. - Dr. Steffanson.

- Mm-hmm? - I think I may be some kind of a witch.

Oh-ho-ho. Come, come now, Mrs. Benson.

This is the 19th centur... er, uh, 20th century.

No! Really! Every man whose life I touch withers.

Really? Uh, Mrs...

Mrs. Benson, please, just turn over and... and try to relax.

Go right ahead.

Well, I was born Louisa May Foster...

in the small town of Crawleyville, Ohio.

Oh, I can't understand it. I never wanted money.

All I ever wanted was to lead a simple life...

with one man to love and to love me.

A simple life somewhere in a little cottage...

that's all I ever wanted ever since I was a little girl with my mother and father.

Oh, your mother. What was your mother like?

Mother? Well...

Mother kept Daddy and me clean, neat as a pin, and took us to church every Sunday.

So now I say unto you, love thy neighbor as thyself.

'Tis better to give than to receive.

Money is the root of all evil.

Mother even had embroidered these very sentiments...

on samplers for our living room at home.

But we were poor, and Mother found it hard to live up to these ideas.

Good day, Mrs. Jenkins.

Sherman, did you see Emily Jenkins?

That slob smothered in a mink cape.

I hate her guts!

Look what I've got.

Her husband was a shipping clerk 15 years ago, same as you.

Now look at him. Look at you. Where's your drive? Where's your ambition?

That's what counts in this world... Success! Money!

Success! Money! President of the Nice Fellows Club!

Money! Success! Get to the top!

Money! Success! Money! Money, money, money!

As the years went by...

I saw my dear, sweet Daddy dwindle away under this...

till you practically didn't know he was there.

I began to understand what Mother really meant by those samplers.

You play your cards right and we'll have more money than we need.

But, Mother, money isn't everything!

I know Leonard Crawley owns Crawley's Emporium...

and three quarters of the property in Crawleyville...

but I'm not gonna marry him just because he's the richest man in town.

He's a sneak and a bore and a drag...

and, oh, he's been with every girl there is...

and besides, I don't love him!

- There's no such thing as love! - He's a snob!

He's ashamed of you and where we live.

Why, he won't even walk in this house when he comes to call for me.

I wouldn't come in here either, if I didn't have to.

Louisa, you turned out real beautiful.

You have something to sell. Take a mother's advice. Sell it now!

- There's Leonard. You better hurry. - No, I'm not going!

How dare you turn down a man like Leonard Crawley!

I tell you he has money. You go and get it!

Leonard was waiting.

I thought over everything he had to offer.

The Crawley home, the Crawley stables...

Crawley's department store...

but then there was Leonard himself.

Leonard Crawley was, um...

Hmm. How shall I say it?

Well, that's not fair, I guess.

He was just Leonard Crawley, son of wealth.

Put 'er right down next to mine, baby.

- Gee, I wish I'd said that. - Aw, you can use it anytime you want.

Just give credit to Crawley.

That's more than Crawley ever did for anyone else in this town.

Oh, by the way, you better let your mom know...

that the payment's due on her refrigerator.

Don't let her get the idea that 'cause we're getting married...

I'm gonna let her off the hook.

Oh, no, no. By the way, she couldn't be your real mother.

She must've been left on your front doorstep...

one stormy night in a cage.

Why are you so intent on marrying me...

when it's perfectly obvious I'm indifferent to you...

and all of the so-called advantages you have to offer?

That's just it, baby. You're the only girl in town...

who doesn't throw herself in front of me in the mud and scream, "Take me."

You know, you suggest good breeding.

Heaven knows where you got it from.

But, uh, also you'll produce me an heir...

and, uh, then my mother will stop nagging me...

about carrying on the Crawley tradition.

Any better reason than that for getting married, huh?

- Hmm? - How about love?

Love? Well, let me put it this way, honey.

I'm very rich and you're very poor.

And sooner or later, you're gonna come around.

Mm. You know the indifference I felt?

Hmm?

Well, it's beginning to change.

- It's beginning to blossom into complete contempt.

What'd I tell you, honey?

I told you you were gonna come around sooner or later.

I gotta pick up the 6:00 town news from my store manager.

Mm. The Crawley Gestapo.

Ohhh, yes.

Huh? Oh, that eyesore.

The only spot in town we don't own.

But it's just a matter of time before old Hopper will come around.

Just like you, baby.

Good afternoon, Mr. Crawley, Miss Foster. Nice weather we're having.

- All right. Make it fast, Driscoll. - Yes, sir.

Mrs. Willoughby was five minutes late getting back from the doctor's today.

- Oh. Five dollars fine off her salary. - Yes, sir.

Hopper sent back the answer to your latest bid on his property.

It's still "no." He says he doesn't want to make money.

He just wants to keep his little place as it is.

Edgar Hopper.

I haven't run into him since high school.

Hmm. I wonder how many days I'd get for manslaughter.

In Crawleyville, they wouldn't even fine you, sir.

- Hi, Lenny. - Edgar, you better watch where you're going.

Yeah, you're right, Lenny. I was looking at the sun.