Bacchanale

Gordon...

Gordon...

Gordon...

Gordon!

I'm not disputing that.

Of course, everyone has the desire to be accepted.

But I venture to say that this desire is even greater...

in a person who can accept themselves as they really are.

Then you don't believe a person is only what he wants to be.

Hi! I haven't seen you in ages.

Where in the world have you been?

Oh, I haven't really been going out very much.

Louise, the showing will start any minute.

- We'll see you. - Okay.

Testing. Attention.

Yes, now we've prepared for you a gorgeous collection...

of Benson originals.

Ronnie shows us just about everything...

in Mr. Benson's scant, center-tied, sleeveless bra.

This must really be the most elegant look.

The hip-slung, bell-bottom pants make it a must...

for today's resort scene. Thank you, Ronnie.

In this group, Mr. Benson celebrates the return of the 40s...

with this positively captivating suit for a lady of worsted gabardine,

with padded shoulders and matching chest.

Yes, girls, busts are back and Bertha's got them.

Darling, who is she?!

If you can visualize live, we have Pat to show us...

Lost in the Stars, a debutante gown.

And here she is, coming down the ramp now.

Trimmed with the finest stones and real sequins,

the shape of the skirt just screams of femininity.

Thank you, Pat.

And by the way, the price is $2,000.

Would you believe? I wouldn't.

And now, of all things, here she comes,

wearing Mr. Benson's Queen of Hearts evening ensemble,

the opulence of red brocade.

The bodice is fitted, high-necked, sleeveless and gorgeous.

Have you ever seen such an example of quite good taste?

Darcy, you are definitely a royal flush.

When a person's afraid of what they really are...

and what they really believe in, what they really want,

then they are actually afraid of the truth.

Yes, fear.

Fear of their true desires.

Fear.

The elegance of the East, captured in Mr. Benson's kismet.

You know, girls, kismet means fate.

And what better fate could be for a girl than to greet him...

for that fateful evening in this metallic brocade caftan,

perfect for at home or dinner on the town.

The baton neckline and angel-winged sleeves grace the lady's top half.

But you see, with this use of censorship,

a person can be relieved of their anxieties...

and consequently free to press on...

in their compelling search for the ultimate truth.

Let me in.

Let me in!

No, I can't. No, I've hat too many shots already.

Would you like me get you another drink?

Oh, come on. Taste it.

Oh, come on, Ruthie.

It's a party. Have some of my drink.

- No, I had to. - Please.

Excuse me. I'm sorry.

You know you gonna die.

I guess so.

I'm coming to pee.

Don't be afraid, Ruth.

Gordon isn't here.

- Do you know my brother? - Yes.

I know your brother as well as you do.

Why do you look for him here?

This is not the place to find your brother.

Look into the coffin, Ruth.

Do you see?

Gordon isn't dead. He isn't here.

Oh, no!

Oh, no! No!

Go from this place.

There is evil here.

Return to your friends.

Search for the truth with a warm heart.

Do you know the truth?

You must find your own truth.

Go into the light. Return to your friends.

Wearing absolutely nothing, Number 57,

provides a truly stunning contrast to our collection.

The ultimate nude look for the 70s.

There, there, darling. I'll take care of your daughter.

Oh, Timothy?

Timothy and I will take care of everything.

Did you see how they all stared?

My dear, you really devastated them.

What a marvelous idea to arrive nude.

I didn't plan it. It just happened.

Well, it was the best thing to wear at such a tacky cocktail party.

Who was that big bitch manufacturing that crass noise?

- My mother. - Oh, but of course.

She's dead.

Oh, good. That's as it should be.

But the establishment, like death and taxes, remains,

and we must find a frock for you.

Granted, darling, you look absolutely delightful as you are.

But what if it started some sort of crazy fad?

What if all females decided to go around in the buff?

Yes, just think what would happen to the fashion industry.

Good grief, Timothy, I'd be back teasing hair,

and you'd still be clipping those ditzy poodles in Passaic.

- Exactly. - What a calamity!

So we must drape this child of nature with huzzahs.

What about polka dots?

No.

God, no.

Reminds me of early Bess Truman.

Something from the 40s. Fringe for a day.

Mad, but...

Ah. Perfectly precious.

A little conservative, but it does have class.

There. Divine, don't you think so, Go-Go?

Go-Go? What kind of a name is that?

Nickname for Gordon. Gordon the Magnificent.

You're not on stage, darling.

Oh, but I am. Every minute.

I want everyone to know me.

I want everyone to love me.

What I wouldn't give to make an entrance like yours tonight.

Down the staircase of life. Nude.

But I don't have any boobs, Timothy.

I don't have any tits.

That's all right, Go-Go. I love you just the same.

Show me, Timothy. Show me.

Show me.

It's unnatural.

Can you see him, Ruth? I can see the band from here.

Look, Mama, the parade's coming.

Yoo-hoo. Elsie?

Hello, Mildred.

Beautiful day for a parade, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

I wish I could be in the parade.

Oh, you'll be marching soon enough, Gordon. Soon enough.

Mama? Mama, after the parade,

can Gordon and I go for a ride on the merry-go-round?

Ruth, hold on to your brother's hand.

Please, Mama, I want to ride the flying horse with Ruth.

You know, Elsie, Ruth and Gordon seem to get along so well.

I mean, they're so affectionate toward each other.

Yes, they are, aren't they?

Well, I'm going to try to get another snapshot down by the armory.

Elsie, I'll speak to you tomorrow.

Bye.