The Flintstones

We're pretty far out, Fred, I hope we don't run into a sea serpent.

Sea serpent. Don't tell me you believe there are sea serpents.

Why, that's just a silly old myth.

Well, it could be, Fred, but I heard stories.

- Fred, I got a bite. - Pull it in.

Oh, boy, this is a whopper.

- What did you catch, Barney? - I think I caught a silly old myth.

What will I do, Fred?

What will you do? Throw him back, that's what.

No, Dino, you can't go out till your daddy gets here.

- Hi, Wilma. - Hi, Betty. Come on in.

I can't, thanks. Barney is due home any second.

I just wanted to check with you. Are we going shopping tomorrow?

Sure thing. Let's get an early start.

- What's with Dino? - Every night, the same thing.

Dino knows Fred gets home exactly at 5200...

and I let him out to greet Fred.

5:00 and here comes Fred.

Okay, Dino, he's home. Go say hello.

No, Dino, hold it, boy.

Now stop it, Dino.

You hear that, Dino, stop it.

This is embarrassing. All the neighbors are looking.

Now be a good boy, Dino, put him down easy in the easy chair.

Every day he misses that chair. I think he does it on purpose.

Dino wouldn't do that. Would you, Dino?

- Hi, Fred. - Hi, Betty.

That Dino sure loves you.

When Dino loves you, you better belong to some good hospital plan.

Anytime you want to give him away, we'll take him.

Not a chance.

- Goodnight, Wilma. - Goodnight, Betty.

- Any mail today, honey? - The usual, Fred. More bills and more ads.

Bills and ads, that's all we ever get. I never get a letter from anyone.

A shipwrecked sailor on an island in the middle of the ocean...

gets more notes in bottles than I get.

You don't get letters unless you write.

When was the last time you wrote a letter, Fred?

I wrote a letter to my mother from Boy Scout camp.

That wasn't last summer, believe me.

I still can't figure it out. All the guys I used to know.

Close buddies... Out every night together. And I told them:

"Fellows, my getting married won't change a thing.

"We'll still chum around together. We'll play cards at my house...

"my wife will make sandwiches for us. She's a good old Joe.

"She'll be like one of the gang." What happened?

I never hear a word from any of them.

You'd think one of them, just one of them, would write.

From what I saw of that old gang of yours, half of them never learned to write...

and the other half can't read, except the big sign over the pool hall.

Oh, yeah? They all could read.

How else could they figure out their racing forms?

Hey, Wilma, this ad is from Gus Gravel.

Who is Gus Gravel?

He's one of the old gang I was just telling you about.

- He wants to make a touch? - No, he doesn't.

He's sent a nice friendly form...

announcing that he's running a hotel at the seashore.

Seashore? Well, since you never take me anyplace...

there's no chance of running into him, which is good.

Oh. yeah?

Hey, wait a minute, Wilma. Tomorrow starts a three-day weekend.

We could get down to Gus's hotel. He might give us a rate for old time's sake.

I've got no old times with Gus-what's-his-name.

I don't even know him. And if he's one of the old gang...

- I'd just as soon keep it that way. - There you go again...

judging people you don't even know. That's your big trouble, Wilma.

No, it isn't. My big trouble is you...

and the way you wolf food down. It's getting bigger all the time.

"The way I wolf food down!"

When I come home after a hard day's work...

I need some nourishment.

She did it again.

What happened to what we were talking about?

Every time a guy calmly discusses something with his wife...

somehow he ends up defending himself from something else.

They throw you a long slow curve and then the fast break.

What were we talking about?

Yeah, Gus Gravel and his hotel.

After I wolf down my dinner, I'll give him a ring.

That's the way it is, Mr. Gravel, I speak for the entire staff.

Now either you pay us or we all quit.

Be reasonable, Harvey.

I'm holding your money for you until the end of the season...

so you won't fritter it away.

Fritter, shmitter, we're walking out right now.

Go find yourself some other pigeons.

Oh, boy. If only I hadn't bet the payroll on that fifth race.

Without them I won't be able to handle the convention crowd...

that's coming this weekend.

There's always a way out. I'll think positively.

That's it, positive thinking.

That did it, I'm positively ruined.

Gravel Hotel, where the surf meets the rocks.

- Gus Gravel speaking. - Hiya, Smoothy!

- We used to call Gus "Smoothy," Wilma. - It figures.

- This is your old pal Fred. - Fred? Fred who?

Flintstone. Hiya, Lard.

- They used to call me "Lard." - Why not?

How's the old married man?

Great, just great.

Smoo, I was thinking of running down to your place for the big weekend.

Do you think you could give the wife and I a special rate?

Here's the end of a beautiful friendship.

You can! Gee, that's swell. You're a real friend.

By the way...

my next-door neighbor and his wife ain't got no plans...

if I bring them along, can they get a rate, too?

Tell you what, Fred.

You bring them along and it won't cost a cent.

You'll all be my guests.

Gosh, we couldn't do that. We'd want to pay for something.

For our soap and towels, at least.

Okay, Smoothy, the soap and towels are free, too.

Goodbye, Fred. See you all this weekend.

Boy, what a break.

Yeah, I always could talk old fatso Freddie into being my pigeon.

If his friends are as gullible as he is, I'll con them into working for me.

And I'll be able to handle the convention after all.

Old Smoothy.

I'd forgotten that name, but it fits.

I'm still the old Smoothy.

I don't get it, Fred.

Why would he give Betty and me a free vacation?

I told you, because he's a sweet, generous, lovable guy.

There are a few of us left, you know.

It doesn't sound right to me, but count me in. I'd love to go.

Sure, I'd love to go.

But Barney and I'd rather pay our own way.

This Gus person won't accept any money.

He insists it's all on the house for old time's sake.

There's something screwy about a hotel owner who won't take money...

but I guess we have nothing to lose.

Nothing, except three days away from housework.

No ironing, no cooking, no dishes, no cleaning.

- Say no more, let's start packing. - Right.

- Come on, Fred, let's get going. - We've got to check our list first.

Go ahead, Barney.

- Dino? - At the vet's.

- Fishing gear? - Check.

- Bowling balls? - Check.

- Ping-pong set? - Check-a-roony.

- Swimsuits? - Check-a-doodle.

- Catcher's mitt? - Check.

- Skin-diving gear? - Check-a-red-check.

We're only going for three days. We're not going to compete in the Olympics.

And I don't want to spend the three days sitting here listening to an inventory.

Okay, we had to do this so we wouldn't forget anything.

Now we're all set. See?

- What's the matter, Fred? - I forgot the car keys.

Women have no sense of humor.

Fred Flintstone!

Gus Gravel!

Boy, am I glad to see you.

How are you, fatso? You haven't changed a bit.

How do you do it, Fred? How do you stay so young?

Why, I exercise a lot, Gus. I lift weights.

Oh, brother, the only exercise he gets is lifting food to his mouth.

Who are those two gorgeous dolls?

Where?

That's my wife, Wilma.

Hello, Mr. Gravel.

And Mr. and Mrs. Barney Rubble, our neighbors.

- How do you do? - Hiya, Gus.

How do you two guys rate such beautiful girls?

No wonder I never found the right girl to marry.

All the best ones are gone.

Now, I'll take your stuff up to your rooms.

You change into something more comfortable and run down to the beach...

while I order up a little lunch for you.

How about that guy Gus?

What a sweet guy.

It's working out great.

Smoothy strikes again.

- This is the life, Betty. - It sure is.

Nothing to do but lie on the beach for three days.

I wonder what the poor people are doing.

Hey, you guys, last one in is a rotten dodo egg.